FH: A Canine Greeting

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 5 AM – The Godcarvers]

> 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.

Soon afterwards, Abbot Kenobi, now dressed in Mithi’s gleaming white
robe to match the other travellers, stepped out of his tent, and a
moment later, a similarly clad High Priestess Laurelin joined the
assembly. The Wind Walking Away Team was now complete. Keeping with the
overall theme of not letting any time waste, after a final check to see
if there were any last minute questions or concerns, Ben drew forth his
Lightning Bolt holy sigil he routinely wore around his neck, and began
to chant in liturgical Quenya. As he chanted, he moved his Lightning
Bolt through the air where it left a tracery of blue sparks with red
highlights that hovered in the air, mixed in with the occasional motes
of both yellow and violet. Still chanting, he walked from traveller to
traveller, tapping each one lightly on the forehead, the light gesture
covering the recipient in a momentary and colourful spark shower. All
except Cat Priestess Jeyshann, who was performing a similar ceremony,
but only for herself.

By now, most if not all of the Away Team were experienced Wind Walkers,
and it did not take anyone terribly long to “think insubstantial
thoughts” and will themselves into becoming cloudy, their wispy forms
starting to float upwards from the ground. Lomi pointed them towards a
particular bearing, and then looked back over her shoulder to see if the
elven priestess had any suggestions or corrections. But a wispy Laurelin
merely returned an encouraging smile, and soon afterwards, the Wind
Walking team took flight, following the insubstantial figure of Lomi as
the scout led the way.

At the speeds possible in a Wind Walk, it did not take the travellers
long at all to reach the prison camp enclave of the Foreman and his
dissident kobolds. But sailing – or Wind Walking – right in was very
much NOT in today’s plan. Not now that they all understood that this was
a prison camp designed to keep the Foreman and his dissidents inside.
Not that the jailers were apparently having much luck with THAT effort,
according to Pilinde’s report from the previous night. But the Away Team
had been tasked with arriving discreetly, outside of the camp, there to
await one of the Foreman’s kobolds. And hopefully NOT alert the camp
guards while they were at it.

Fortunately, avoiding creating an alarm among the guards appeared
simpler than a pessimist might have feared. While still at a
considerable altitude and lost among the natural clouds, elven eyes
could easily see what the guards were about. And they were indeed busy.
VERY busy. Whether constructively busy, however, was rather a matter of
opinion.

A large portion of the guards were busy erecting the beginnings of a new
log palisade just beyond the perimeter of the existing fence. While an
equally large portion of the guards were demolishing the just erected
palisade, and carrying the logs over to a different part of the camp’s
exterior. There, presumably, to begin the cycle all over again. A
smaller contingent of guards were dutifully sweeping the forecourt
outside of the camp’s gate, lengthwise, while a matching contingent were
sweeping the same area crosswise, effectively nullifying each other’s
labours. While yet a third contingent were carefully whitewashing each
and every rock.

From the lofty perch high up in the clouds, Finfin had to chuckle. “I
have seen this sort of activity,” he chortled. “But never to THIS
extent. Any enlisted soldier knows how to look busy, even if doing
something entirely meaningless. Particularly if a disrespected superior
needs to be impressed with how vital the soldiers’ activity is, and how
important it is that they be left alone. There was never a breakdown in
leadership this awful in the Dorian Service, but I can perhaps see what
is going on. These kobold jailers hate their superiors, and do not want
to be dragged into whatever schemes their leaders have, and are trying
to appear to be too busy to be redeployed.”

Jeyshann sniffed disdainfully. “Like having to hunt after US, or at
least whoever it was the survivors of our Raid last night think kicked
over the ants nest.”

A wispy Tramma gave a sad sigh. “If kobolds are anything like people,
though, just because they hate their Bosses doesn’t mean they’re OUR
friends.”

“So let us follow this Foreman’s instructions,” Jeyshann suggested
dryly, “and land unseen in the distance, and allow our Scout to make
contact at the rendez-vous.”

Lomi, meanwhile, had been taking a sightline bearing, and was pointing
down towards a particularly thick bit of vegetation off away from a
designated corner of the prison camp. “Down there, I’d say.” And behind
her, a wispy Laurelin agreed, and together the two scouts led a path
downwards. Not a straight descent, in case by some chance they had been
observed, but a swooping, descending spiral, merging with the various
natural bits of cloud cover all the way down.

And soon after, they were safely on the ground. Now, the white robes
that were so handy to merge with the clouds were an active handicap, not
matching at all the natural foliage. But the scouts had planned for
that, and the dense undergrowth they had selected provided all of the
natural cover needed for everyone to peel out of the robes, replacing
the white garments with whatever outerwear they preferred. All while
Finfin took charge of his apprentice’s discarded robes, storing them
safely away in the chainmail lined haversack that could usually be found
around one shoulder.

“I’ll take it from here,” Lomi suggested, and then looked questioningly
over at Laurelin. “Unless, Galdis, you’d rather?” But a serene smile was
Lomi’s answer. Taking out Pilinde’s well used shirt, Lomi vanished into
the undergrowth, slowly working her way towards the designated meetup
point. Finfin was impressed; he’d seen better scouts – but not many. The
long legged scout would have to be VERY unlucky to be spotted.

But that didn’t mean that there wasn’t a tense few minutes until Lomi
emerged back in the thicket containing the rest of the away team. Only
now, she was not alone. One hand was still holding Pilinde’s very used
undershirt, while the other was giving a happily tail wagging wolf a
scritch behind its ears. And with both scout and wolf was a kobold who
by all appearances seemed to be expecting the visitors.

“Tall folk made good time,” the scaly creature grated in its own
language, the translation springing to mind for those with Arcane or
Divine Tongues spells running. “Tall folk follow us to tunnel.”

“We should be fine,” Lomi added, “as long as we follow this specific
trail. It’ll keep us out of sight of the area guards who… hey!” she
exclaimed, interrupting herself. The cause was only too apparent. The
wolf, sensing the scout’s attention had drifted away from the canine,
had snatched away Pilinde’s shirt in its jaws, and had leapt away, its
forefeet low, while its hind legs remained erect.

“I don’t have time to play now!” Lomi quietly protested. “And that’s my
Pack Leader’s shirt. I think she’ll want it back.”

For a reply, the wolf hopped away another few feet, still in its “play
bow”. However, seeing that Lomi was not willing to chase it, the wolf
then dropped the shirt on the ground. Only to start to vigorously roll
itself against the garment a moment later.

Both Lomi and Tramma had to stifle giggles. “We have GOT to tell
Wolfgirl all about THIS!” the silver haired bard chuckled.

“Hopefully it’ll encourage her to take baths more often,” Lomi mused.
“Or not. Just as our wolf friend here likes HER scent, she’ll probably
appreciate HIS, and she’ll NEVER launder that shirt again.”

A quick solution, fortunately, was readily to hand. The wolf did not
object in the slightest when Lomi carefully approached, and even allowed
itself to accept a bellyrub in payment for the shirt’s return.

The wolf’s ears flattened, however, and it began to snarl at a couple of
the Away Team members. That the wolf had an inherent distrust of the Cat
Priestess was, in hindsight, not at all surprising. That it seemed to
have an equally profound dislike of Finfin, however, was rather
startling. Until Lomi pointed out the likely cause.

“You were sharing the night with a weretigress, Cap’n,” Lomi observed.

“Ah,” the elven officer replied. “Indeed.”

Laquendi blinked at this news. The apprentice wizard Mithralia was a
weretigress? That was certainly news. Or… had the elven officer been
with one of the Pussycats last night? If so, young Mithralia had been
far calmer about the matter this morning than the dusky elf would have
expected. In fact, last seen the apprentice wizard and the Pussycats
had been downright friendly.

Or… had he been with Mithralia AND a Pussycat? At the same time? Which
one? Or… *ones*? There were so many permutations in these sorts of
arrangements that had for decade upon decade been beneath Laquendi’s
notice. But now, courtesy of her reawakened hormones as a side effect of
her miraculous Healing, these sorts of questions and thoughts were
intruding with increasing – and annoying – frequency. Or, as she vaguely
recalled a recent Spirit Guide warning her, she was in danger of
becoming a “hormonally challenged goth girl with Fireballs at her
fingertips”, while having to for the second time in her life contest
with the challenges of puberty.

But she had risen to this challenge before, and would do so again.
Without the gratuitous use of Fireballs; that much she had already
proved to herself. Instead, she would simply add this to the list of
topics to ponder. And, if there was sufficient curiosity, research further.

Next to the dark elf, Tramma whispered, “Feel free to come talk to me
later. I’ll fill you in… if you’d like.”

Recalling Vowsister Neysa’s suggestion to “go with the flow” – and a
surfacing memory of a recent Dream Vision encouraging seeking Tramma’s
advice – Laquendi simply nodded.

Meanwhile, Lomi had a simple suggestion to deal with the immediate
situation. “Jeyshann, ma’am? Captain? How about the two of you keep
everyone else, and especially ME, between yourselves and my canine
friend here?”

Jeyshann looked annoyed at the suggestion, but the elven officer simply
nodded. “I believe that would be for the best,” he agreed.

“If tall folks are QUITE finished?” the kobold asked scathingly. And
then led the way, with Lomi and the wolf following closely, and the
others behind. With both the Cat Priestess and the elven officer having
to take Tail End Charlie.