The Severed Hand

"No, I shouldn't. For many more reasons than the one you are likely referring to. But here I am. So, what's a beautiful dragon like yourself doing flying around a strange ruin like this?"

Vincent gives an oddly warm and genuine smile that stands out given his demeanor. He really is thankful to be alive.

"Being alive hasn't done anything for your hearing, or attention span." Aeri throws up her hands. "You know. Hunting a black-hearted scoundrel. Checking on this mess." She gestures at the still-smoldering ruins.

"Well, I for one am thankful you were here."

Looking between Ras and Aeri.

"Does the little guy know?"

Aeri shrugs. "It's hard to say what goes on in that adorably bald head of his." She sighs, then walks over to the lone gnome. With her back to the group, no one sees her face soften as she bends down to plant a gentle kiss on the top of Ras' head. "I'm sorry about your uncle. If I had only arrived sooner... I'm sorry."

Aeri casts Death Ward on Ras.

She returns to the table and takes her seat. "No use letting this fine food go to waste. I've got a flight ahead of me."

.

Zenithral idly begins to unwrap the sending stone. As he does so, he looks around to see if anyone present reacts.

As Zenithral looks about, Erevain catches his eye and gives the barest shake of his head. Whatever the elf's involvement, he does not seem to want it discussed openly at the moment.

"Sorry, Alalla, yes, I still have the sending stone," He passes it to her with mage hand, then stands, finally finished with his meal. "I'm going to assess the damages to the ship's hull. Erevain, will you accompany me?"

Erevain excuses himself from the table and joins Zenithral.

Ras is vaguely aware of the conversations going on around him, just as he is vaguely aware of Aeri kissing the top of his head. When someone offers him food, he eats a few bites, but he is careful to keep his mind blank. He tries to wear the cloak, but it is too big. He wears it anyway. The turnip goes in his pocket. While the others are discussing what to do next, Ras begins wandering through the ship, assessing the damage.

Outside the ship, Zenithral walks around with Erevain looking at some of the torn up planks. "Well?" he asks without turning, giving no indication of whether he's inquiring about the damages or the sending stone.

Erevain sighs. "We still have not found it." He rubs a hand over his face. "In spite of our best efforts, Alalla is no closer to being free of Gruumsh."

Planning on making a deal with a devil, were you? I suppose I shouldn't jump to conclusions...'As an archer, information is strength and safety,' Arannis always said...or...something like that...

Zenithral draws a knife and taps around some of the shattered planks, listening for where the ship's frame lies. "Found what? A 'cure'? Precisely what were you trying to achieve with the stone?" His tone is purely inquisitive, not chastising.

"Of all the people we have talked to, Poquelin is the only one who has claimed that he can help her." The elf shakes his head. "All I have asked him for are the terms."

"And what are those terms? Both his and yours?" he asks, moving on to another damaged section of the hull.

Alalla grips the stone tightly. They need all the information they can get. She shoves the stone into her pocket and stands.

"I need to go hit something," Al grumbles. Everyone would probably believe that. That's all she does, usually.

Al leaves the table and climbs down the rope latter and into the snow. She summons her glaive to herself when she reaches the bottom, then goes in search of a solitary spot. When she's sure she's out of sight and earshot, she pulls the stone from her pocket.

She realizes sheepishly that she doesn't know how the thing works.

"Uh, Revered Brother Poquelin?" Al asks over the stone.

Erevain straightens. "With all the respect and friendship you deserve, Zenithral, this is a matter between myself and Alalla. You can rest assured that I would never do anything to harm the party. But my priority in this group has been and always will be to protect my wife."

He turns to Erevain. "I understand and believe that, but sometimes we're prone to overlook small details that hurt those around us, even when we have the best of intentions," he says, seeming to speak from experience. "I want to know for myself there's nothing to worry about. And with devils, I've been led to believe there's always something to worry about. I can't let my experience blind me the opposite direction, so I won't stop you if I believe there to be fault. I would, however, like to inform you of possible consequences if I'm able to discern any."

"I both appreciate your concern and value your judgment, Zenithral. But this matter I must keep confidential. I would also ask you to avoid speaking of this to Alalla. She is acting as the group's leader and tending to its needs as a whole. Handling this task is my responsibility." Erevain spreads his hands. "I do not want to worry or distract her from the other important matters at hand."