Story I: The Rift

Pyrrah starts to turn away as if to leave, but then stops herself, thinking quickly. She turns back to face Neph's father. "Sir, there is one more thing I wish to ask of you before we rest. It's a personal matter. "

Pyrrah watches the others leave and then looks back at the pixie leader. "I was hoping maybe you could be of some help to me. It may not be obvious, seeing as so many in my group are human, but I'm at a severe disadvantage down here in the darkness. My eyes... They just weren't made for this and it shows. The others can see in the dark, so it places me in a... difficult.... situation. I know of a spell that might be able to help, but in order for the ritual to be successful I need to find a few things. I hate to ask for anything from a people who have just experienced suffering, but I don't see us returning to the surface for a resupply run anytime soon. If you could help me find any of these ingredients, I'd be most grateful. "

Pyrrah carefully swings off her pack and sets it down. From the bottom, wrapped in rough navy cloth she pulls out a leather-bound book marked only by the silver clasp and leather band that bind it closed. She quickly undoes the binding and opens it to a page halfway in. Before setting it down carefully in front of Eahldun. The text is written in careful dwarven print, but even so that wouldn't be enough to translate it. On the next page lies a small piece of parchment with the translation into common written in Pyrrah's own hand: a list of spell components that she had penned not even two months previous.

As Ameera was heading that way to sit by the chasm before the barrier tunnel, she stops to see what the pixies are excited about.

Upon the Ramp...

As Ameera (and perhaps others) descend the ramp to see what the pixies are going on about, the sounds intensify somewhat. A few of the pixies appear distraught, and some of them begin to call to Ameera as she approaches, gesturing for her to hurry to them. As Ameera nears, the pixies back away from a form in the middle of their gathering.

On the ground lies a Half-Elf, girded in chainmail. He appears to be a travelling warrior of sorts, with a halberd and backpack, as well as a few other trinkets and supplies on his person. A thick coat of dirt, grime and dried blood make his skin a few shades darker than it is naturally.

Neph, who had followed Ameera out of her father's hovel, gasps and begins communicating with the others. Her side of the conversation can be understood, and she is clearly asking what has happened, and who the Elf is. After some discussion, she turns to those of the party that have assembled here, and says, "The two that went down to stand guard. They found him, unconscious, in the tunnel."

Pyrrah nods her head deeply and carefully picks back up her book, stowing it away like it had been previously in its protective covers. "Thank you, Headman Eahldun. Your kindness does not fall on an ungrateful heart. I will return later. Please let us know if there is anything more that your people need from us. I'm sure that we'd be glad to help however we could. "

With that, Pyrrah backs out of the room and steps back outside looking for the others. Hearing sounds of what she thinks may be distress, she quickly pulls her bow and an arrow and runs towards the sound, convinced that another assault has begun, if not in earnest.

"What's happening, are they coming back?" She calls as she nears, seeing her party members, her bow half raised and the arrow knocked to fire.

Lost in thought, observing the stone, watching its age and structures, Baric ignores Devanis then notices the moving crowd just in time to slide in to the back of it, lost in structural calculations to aid the pixies.

the load bearing wall could be readjusted to accommodate faster—no, that wouldn't work because the barrier is broken and that's how the shadow kin probably— Baric is ripped from his thoughts, hearing these developments for the first time. It makes a lot of sense, these pixies would need to have some magic keeping them safe and in one place all this time. Dropping the problem of the repairs on the hovels, he sets himself to the problems of the barrier, missing much of the following conversation.

Ambling back toward his hovel, realizing his desperate need for sleep when the call of a breach sounds.

Yna's Offspring, I'm too tired to make more legends now.

While he looks like an elf at a quick glance, a closer look would bring up a few inconsistencies. his build looked a bit stockier then one might expect from an elf, shoulders a bit wider and less streamlined then would be considered normal for a full elf. The same would be true for his face. He has the pointed ears and high cheekbones that would typically indicate elvish heritage, but his face seems a bit wider, the jaw a bit wider, hinting at some human heritage thrown in as well.

Despite the grime, there are fairly substantial bags under his eyes, indicating a quite pronounced lack of sleep. His skin has a somewhat gaunt appearance. It looks like there has been a distinct lack of food and drink to go with the missed or disturbed sleep.

Hearing raised voices, Evendur, with as much effort as he can, manages to get his eyes open. Upon seeing a person, his eyebrows furrow as if confused. A few seconds later once his head processes what he is seeing, his eyes go wide, and he tries to sit himself up, only for his arms to give out and land him back on the ground with a grunt of pain.

After giving a couple of dry coughs after hitting the ground, he asks in a rasp that would indicate an extremely dry throat, "Do you know a way out from here?"

Evendur flinches after speaking as if the dryness in his throat has caused pain or discomfort, and asks a bit quieter, "Do you have anything to drink or eat? I haven't had much since I was tossed down here."

"Who, how, who are you?" Ameera stammers as she brings forth her water skin. She holds the strangers head up slightly and trickles water into his mouth. "Where did you come from?"

After a few mouthfuls of water, Evendur coughs again, and when he speaks, his voice sounds less rasping, but still a bit hoarse. "Name's Evendur. Got ambushed on my way to Bracklewhyte. Got shot, killed 2 of them, but the other 3 wore me down, took my gold, and tossed me into a pit." Evendur scowls, shakes his head slightly, and then adds, "Woke up washed up on the edge of a small underground stream. I patched myself up, and have been trying to find a way back to the surface."

Evendur takes a few deep breaths, and takes a moment to get his arms out of his backpack. After his arms are free, he sets his face with a look of focus, and attempts to push himself into a sitting position. This time, despite the occasional tremble and twitch of his arms, he is able to get himself sitting up. Evendur is by no means sitting steadily, and almost appears to be dizzy or light headed, as instead of sitting still, he is wobbling slightly as though he may still fall over.

"Well, you seem the lucky sort to have survived, you may have touched Yna's tail. I can tell you the way back, right up into the center of that less than exciting town. You will need to regain some strength first, there is a dangling rope to climb and some horrors to avoid....it would be two or three days. Anyway, here eat a bit." Ameera offers a bit of rations. Telepathically and verbally, she says to Neph Would it be possible to get some real food? This one needs some desperately, and the rest of us could use a break from this. Ameera holds up a bit of dried meat and dense fruit-bread.

"We've seen your kind before; round-ears and others yet," Neph says, eyeing Evendur carefully, "Always corpses. They wash up in a stream deep into the cave down there, or sometimes make it a bit further. Sometimes, we only find bones, among a beast's waste. None have survived the trip this one seems to have made." Neph looks concerned, until Ameera's request draws her out of it.

She nods her head and says, "Of course. I'll get some things." She hurries off. Though her wing is still crippled, she appears to be able to work past her limp, and is able to jog at a well-enough pace.

After some time, she returns with a small package of roots, vegetables and mushrooms. She also has a leather skin, full of clean water. She hands them - one at a time, as requested - to Evendur.

Pyrrah rushes up to where she sees Ameera standing. When she sees the near-collapsed Evendur and nothing else, she skids to a stop a few feet away and stands with her bow not locked to fire, but definitely held threateningly. Her eyes dart from building to building, over the wall outcroppings. "We aren't under attack then?" She apparently confirms her own hypothesis and looks down at the fallen half-elf with cold calculation and assessment, quickly sizing the man up and making mental notes of all of his injuries and utilities. She doesn't release her stiff posture or lower her bow to her side. "What are you doing down here, half-elf? Why are you so near Winter Court territory?"

Evendur eats slowly, not wanting to reek havoc on his stomach which hasn't had food in it for days. When a women comes skidding up with a bow in hand, he'll stop eating, but not really react other wise.

When asked questions, Evendur turns to directly face her from where he sits. "I got ambushed and tossed down into a pit."
Evendur looks the woman with the bow up and down, before speaking up again. "One could also ask you why a human would get so near to Winter Court territory, as they have a disgusting habit of taking slaves." Despite a slightly hoarse voice, the distaste when talking about slaves still bleeds through quite clearly in his voice. "If you must know, the Explorer's guild that I was near at the time told me they were going to be doing some work in Bracklewhyte a few months ago. So I headed that way."

Evendur reflexively moves his hand to his stomach, where an arrow wound had previously been in his gut. There is probably still some dried blood on the chain mail where his hand settles. Shaking his head and getting his focus back, he adds, "Probably would have made it there and not been shot if the kind people of Valkaria hadn't relieved me of my horse." There is no hiding the irritation that comes across when he mentions his horse being taken, and a light scowl crosses his face for a few seconds. Another, though lighter cough or two escapes Evendur, and the scowl fades as he takes another few mouthfuls of water. After not having water for a while, it can't be understated how nice being able to get a drink was.

Pyrrah just can't help it. It comes at the most inopportune moment, a time that reeks of seriousness and one that contains some vital information that she should probably be focusing on instead. But she just can't help it.

Probably for the first time since she got to Bracklewhyte - hell, probably the first time in months - Pyrrah laughs. It's not fake. It isn't playing some angle. She just laughs. Hard. For many in the party who have never even seen her crack a smile, it's probably even slightly disturbing.

"The, the damn Valks took your horse? And left you to walk, left you to walk all the way here? What, just carrying your saddlebags?" She says it through bits and bursts of laughter. There doesn't even really seem to be anything funny going on from the outside perspective, but to Pyrrah the whole situation has a dark, twisted sense of humor to it that she just can't help but acknowledge.

Her laughter calms down, but she's still smiling darkly. Though her eyes are alight, the curve of her mouth holds a twist of malice, and it isn't being directed at Evendur or anyone in the party. "That is just rich. Simply beautiful. I've honestly never heard of a more Valkarian thing to do in my life. Anyway, it would seen you've actually hit a spot of luck. We're the party that the guild sent out; we didn't know that anyone else was coming."

Perhaps caught up in her darkly elated mood, Pyrrah squats down next to Evendur and sets her bow down next to her, her muscles falling back into relaxation. "Best give you the same treatment as everyone else. Since I don't quite know you yet, even though I like you already, you can call me Flare. Welcome to the Underdark."

Ameera stands and steps back from Pyrrah and Evendur several paces. Her hand brushes quickly up past her shoulder and makes a slight indication towards the pair. After a few seconds, Ameera scowls and says "Do we have a problem?" her glare flicking to the half elf, but mainly focused on her female companion.

Neph looks between the two women with a hint of confusion and worry on her face.

Pyrrah's expression flickers over to Ameera. "Personally? Not particularly. What did you really expect though? I'm Sevarran. My family fought in the succession as a part of Blackheart's freedom fighters, maybe not in the elites but we were still there. Generally speaking, Valkaria and Sevarra aren't on the best of terms. You on the other hand? You forget at one time I was considered Valkarian myself. I have no issues with the common people, just the government and the extremists like the Valkyries and the Absolvers. "

"Expect? I didn't expect you to be a separatist, not that it matters to me. I never have cared for the politics of any of the governments. The Exhumed can take all the leaders and we would be better for it. Your the one that seems to be labeling all Valks as horse thieves. You've made me question my trust in you twice today and, you...it ..... hurts."