RP:Ace's Nature Documentary

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Location: Frostmaw Tavern - Middle of Town

Summary: Leoxander, Loravelle and Lita make the long journey to Frostmaw Mountains to investigate the destruction caused by the primal, Xicotl. Upon entering the tavern for a moment to rest and recover, they come across the Silver Enigma in a room crowded with worried residents and survivors.

[ Part 1/5 ]

Frostmaw Tavern

Krice had spent the better part of the last month away from civilization, likely to recover from the wounds he sustained during the battle against the world-ending arboreal demi-god; he was known well enough in this city that some people noticed his absence–the faded, vertical scar from right temple to jawbone attested to that possibility. For the last week, he had been venturing into the destruction left by the Primordial to assist with rebuilding efforts and patrol the edges of the city to ensure that no dangerous elements capitalised on the chaos; a lot of structures were outright destroyed and in the process of reformation, while others sustained repairable damage. The tavern was a place that still stood to serve its stressed citizenry, damaged in places but already mostly patched up for the sake of the alcoholic needy. Dressed in black robes over his usual slacks and rolled-sleeve button-down, with a long white katana strapped to his back, Krice stood in the tavern not to drink, but to take in the comments of the patrons. With his back angled at the far wall, he listened to the recent history of Frostmaw's people from the mouths of the people themselves. Stoic as ever, a stalwart guardian and an attentive observer. The discussion seemed to center mostly around the rebuilding effort, with some talking about the power and size of the 'gargantuan tree-bastard' that had damaged their city with two earthquakes caused by its movement and magic. Some were in awe, most were angry, but everyone seemed go have accepted that their current lot in life was to focus on the restoration of their home.

Leoxander wasn’t overly dressed in the layers he insisted Lora wear, but he did wear a hooded jacket with the hood up and a black mask fit over the lower half of his face and throat to keep the frost out of his few days worth of a half-beard. His breath still fogged through the fabric during the climb and approach of Frostmaw city gates, the trek far more tedious than before with all the dangerous tears and crevices splitting through ice and stone. To the point he’d probably insist on holding the book keeper’s hand the majority of the way. Lita would probably refuse such an unnecessary offer, but he did keep shifting glances her way to check on her progress - hopefully the woman had opted to wear a damn pair of shoes, today. It was a scene worse than he imagined, particularly when they got closer to the city. Even over the gates he noticed some of the tall stone structures somehow… missing, far fewer torches lighting the perimeter, and a few wagons either emptied or stocked with materials for the exiles who were already at work trying to make repairs. The tavern had to be their stop - the trip had been a long one and the obstacle course of frozen mountain at the end had even the lycanthrope worn out. More importantly, he had to get his human fiance out of the cold for a bit. Pushing open the door to hold it and usher both women inside, he turned his head to observe a crowd larger than usual for the snow covered retreat, which had obviously seen better days with damage far worse than a broken door, but unsurprisingly surviving. Blue eyes were immediately drawn to Krice’s position and lingered there for a moment before he pulled the door closed and drew back his hood, once Lora and Lita were inside.

Loravelle tried not to be so slow and bumbling during the trek north, and kept herself as close to the rogue's side or Lita's side as she could reasonably do so without impeding not only their movements, but her own. Forcing down her worries about just what they might be venturing into with the silent mantra of 'just keep moving' helped, but the sight of all the destruction had the girl's steps slowing from time to time for shock and a jolt of fear to cause an involuntary shiver or two. Typically Lora wore several layers of robes already, but she added on a few more for protection against the cold, along scarves to cover her hair and some heavier boots she hadn't quite gotten used to wearing still. And gloves. She actually thought sensibly this time and brought gloves too, with one gloved hand gripping Leo's tightly every chance she could for some stability, physically and mentally. Her smaller frame (despite looking plump from all those layers) is swallowed up within the leather jacket Leo gifted her in that very tavern they finally reached so long ago as well. She produces a smile at the memory despite her teeth chattering, and hurries right on in to escape the frigid air. For a moment, she lingers near the doorway to knock some snow off of her boots with a few stomps, but mousy as she is she stops pretty quickly, thinking it might be too noisy even if there's already a commotion in the tavern. Her bright red nose crinkles, and she tries to hold in a sneeze. Gods, don't let me catch a cold, Lora thinks to herself.

Lita had opted for shoes only when the pirate had given her a look. Whether he was worried about her or just worried about Lita setting a bad example for Lora, amuses her. All the same, she's donned a pair of new-ish black work boots, a thing Xiem had insisted she wear after showing up at his work site barefoot. She was still wearing the usual black sundress, a suede green overcoat draped over her shoulders. She kept a few paces behind Leo and Lora as they made their way north, occasionally pausing in step to make sure Lora was alright and once Leo had her again, she'd continue on. Lita hasn't been to Frostmaw in a few years now and while she'd heard about the recent trouble and destruction, it was an entirely different thing to see in person. She combs her fingers through her hair as they step inside the tavern, brushing flakes of snow away. She butts the heel of one boot against the inside of her other to knock some of the snow off the bottom and then does the same with the other, lifting a hand to Lora's shoulder to keep her balance. "Think warm thoughts." She says to Lora with a grin.

Krice generally glanced at the door whenever it opened, mostly to see new people entering–he didn’t need to keep track of who exited. This time, he glanced before the door even swung open, to find himself locking eyes briefly with a vaguely familiar man who’s attention on him was no less than pointed. His attention drifted to the less familiar woman who arrived after him, and then the -very- familiar second woman who arrived after the first. A twitch of one brow was his imperceptible conveyance of surprise, otherwise he remained relatively neutral. Boots on those vampire feet, though. Wow. Loravelle’s image in particular was a stark contrast to his own, bundled up in layers of warmth while he wore thin robes to complement already inadequate attire for such a frigid climate; the people of Frostmaw were used to his ice-resistant weirdness by now; he no longer received perplexed glances from the masses. While the trio acclimated themselves to the comparative warmth of the tavern, Krice diverted his attention to watch the patrons at large. Whatever business Leo and his female companions had here, the warrior would stick to his own.

Leo turned his head a bit back and forth to peel the mask down around his throat, the expression on his face solemn for what they were encountering in that investigation of Xicotl’s attack. Thinking back on Quintessa’s words, he was very much hoping the hexblade knew what she was talking about - even if he wouldn’t live six thousand years to see another emerge, once was enough for what resulted in the attack. For once, Drargon didn’t bother with a glare in the rogue’s direction, should he actually be present to man the bar. But with the abundance of traffic in that hour, he might even have some unexpected help. A touch to Lita’s shoulder in passing and a look torn from Krice to notice Lora’s teeth chattering away, Leo pushed through or walked around the crowd to get to the bar with a murmured request. “Two double whiskey an’ some winter-berry tea with a hit of mint schnapps.” Digging into pocket, he actually seemed ready to pay for his drinks, astonishingly, then motioned to the fireplace hearth that had miraculously survived so Loravelle would stand closer to it and thaw out. He had an unspoken concern for her coming down with sickness, as well. Once those drinks were ready he just tossed his few shots worth back and brought the other whiskey to Lita, the old wooden mug to Lora, not bothering to clue her in on the touch of sweet liquor he had added in. Once again, the Silver Enigma had Leo’s attention, noticing the way he looked toward the vampire. “You know that one, Ace?”

Loravelle doesn't know what she'd do without Lita sometimes. That lady is something else and it's the most delightful thing ever. “Th-thank you,” she stammers, grateful for the assist with maintaining some balance. Warm thoughts. Spending time in Rynvale left her utterly spoiled when it came to heat and warmth. If she were fireproof she just might fling herself into the nearest fire to heat back up, but finding a place to sit near it would work just as well and be less catastrophic. It's unusual seeing Lita with boots on and she feels a pang of guilt even if she didn't tell her to put boots on. Something she'd learned in Rynvale quick was just how liberating walking around barefoot could be, especially with those marks on the undersides of hers long gone. That's a warm thought. Warm sand on the beach. “I miss sandy feet,” she whispers to Lita, feigning a whine. At Leo's motion, she beelines right for the hearth, squeezing past other patrons along the way. It's in that walk over that she notices Krice and his distinct lack of warmer-looking clothes, and for a moment she wonders if he might be something not entirely human like Leo or Lita. Normally, that thought alone would freeze her in terror, but the cold froze her enough and she just wanted to feel warm again. Clumsily and honestly a bit carelessly, she drops herself down on the floor with a thunk right by the hearth as close as she can manage to thaw out. Her chattering teeth stopped finally, just in time for Leo to deliver that mug of tea to her. She doesn't drink from it just yet, instead setting it on the floor beside her momentarily so she can tug off her gloves and pick the mug up once more, letting the heat emanating from it warm up her fingers. After that first drink of tea, she pulls a little face at that sudden burn in her throat and belly from the schnapps. Normally she might complain, but it's keeping her warm so she'll nurse at it and likely ask for more soon.

Lita notices Krice, of course. He's about as difficult to miss as pony sticker at the Jolly Roger these days. But he looks away before she can try to offer a smile or a wave in greeting and Leo is pointing them towards the hearth as he heads for the bar, so she follows Lora towards the fire, dragging a few empty chairs together for the trio. "I really don't think that trek would have been so bad barefoot." She grumbles to Lora while Leo is still getting drinks. The warmth of the fire is a welcomed reprieve from the cold though. Even if she can withstand the temperature with ease, she still prefers the warmer climates. The pirate makes his way towards them with drinks and she takes the whiskey from him with thanks, sipping it gingerly. "Yes." She answers Leo briefly. "And no. Used to? It's complicated." Or not anymore, but was. She takes another sip of whiskey and meets the rogue's eyes. "You're gonna make me go say hi, aren't you?"

Krice shifted his attention to a pair of Frost Giants who solemnly hunched over their mugs of ale, talking quietly to each other. One was depressed, grumbling about the damage to a home he had just finished building, while the other had suffered some personal injury as a result of Xicotl’s wrath; they tried to console each other in the most manly, hulking way manageable. A more human-sized patron passed by and smirked through his circumstantial distress. “ Whoah, Krice - you wearing robes? Cold finally got to ya?” The warrior spared him a glance and his answer was a lame, “ Sure.” The patron continued on to a booth where he sat to drink his two pints. As Loravelle theorized, this warrior was indeed not entirely human–or rather, more than. Lita knew it, and Leoxander’s lycanthropy would allow him to scent it out; pure, efficient blood, a strong, slow heartbeat reflecting high fitness, and one of the more obvious signs; no furs or leathers in crazy-cold conditions. The sound of Lita’s voice drew his gaze back to the trio and he listened, noting in their body language that their attention was likely turned to him. He glanced at Lora for a moment, an innocent woman trying to get warm. Leaning his right shoulder into the wall behind him, he regarded Lita across the room, through intermittent obstructions of passing patrons, and passed her a message under his breath that most if not all of the prior-present customers would not even register, “ I can hear you from here.” She didn’t have to ‘go’ anywhere to say ‘hi’. His expression remained neutral, unreadable, but not unpleasantly so. If the vampire got ‘leave me alone’ vibes from the enigma, it wasn’t intentional. Still, given Leoxander’s query afer her knowledge of him, Krice looked at the wolf as well; whoever bid more for his attention would likely get more of it.

Leoxander knew there was something familiar about the man in his dark robes. Had they ever actually interacted beyond a look? Hard to say, but the pirate wasn’t oblivious to the media and residents just moments ago. The compound bow on his shoulders was shrugged off and propped against the stone frame of the fireplace with his satchel dropped to the floorboards not far from where Lora sat and sipped her spiked tea. Standing back upright from the lean to do so, his steeled gaze fixed back on what keen vision saw to be crimson, even from a short distance away. “We heard you, too. An’ I’m damn sure I’ve seen you ‘round.” Maybe not in that particular slice of Lithrydel, but from what the lycan’s ears had picked up on, the warrior knew his way around that frozen, mountainous territory. Some of the crowd opted to give Leo some space when he finally stepped forward toward Krice, either knowing something of the criminal and his reputation, or just instinctively backing away from a man whose eyes occasionally flickered like a wolf in concentrated light. “Were you here for it?” No polite introduction right away; straight to the point like an arrow to a mark.

Loravelle should probably get up from her seat on the floor to sit in one of the chairs Lita drags over, but she doesn't just yet. The problem with wearing so many layers is that it made movement a little more difficult than she'd like to admit, and she wasn't about to embarrass herself further by asking for help. Hopefully Leo and Lita are distracted enough talking about that silver-haired man that they don't notice her awkwardly wiggling on the floor to pull herself up and into a chair. It's a graceless success, but she'll take it. Lora bends enough to grab her mug as well, and hopefully the end result has her looking just a little more dignified and warmer too while she continues drinking it. Conveniently, her chair is turned at an angle that sort of permits her to see a decent amount of the tavern, and she scoots it a little more so her back faces the hearth to warm it up too. Her considerably weaker human hearing didn't catch the warrior's words at all, so her attention focuses primarily on drinking more from her mug and listening to Lita and Leo. That is, until the wolf stepped away from the hearth. Brows raise with confusion. 'Heard what?' She mouths at Lita. Is something wrong, other than what resulted in the wreckage outside? Was that man Leo approached part of the problem? She's caught on by now that there's some sort of alcohol in her tea, so she takes another drink. Warm thoughts and calm nerves. That's what she needed now.

Lita grins at Krice's words. It's not as if she was trying to be rude. She'd known he'd be able to hear her. But she wasn't quite the make-introductions type, and she had no idea how the man would receive her, especially if he'd spoken with Lav recently. Or maybe that wouldn't matter. Regardless, despite their decision to remain friends and friendly, she'd rarely seen him in the years since Gualon. A lot had happened, a lot had changed. She doesn't have to say anything further, Leo has done his usual thing and made himself a part of the conversation, which is just fine with her. After nonchalantly watching Lora gracefully wriggle herself from the floor and into a proper chair, Lita scoots her chair closer to the woman, angling to lean closer to her but watching Leo and Krice. "Here we see two alpha males in the wild." She's talking softly between them, but knows both men will still likely hear. Oh well, she's narrating a nature show for Lora's benefit, here. "One, a silver-haired local, well established amongst his tribe, the other, sticking out like a sore thumb, having traveled far to either lend a hand or protect his own. We'll have to see how this plays out..."

Krice didn’t need an introduction to have a conversation, thus when Leoxander didn’t give one, he didn’t seek it. The wolf’s vision might also pick up on a warmer colour amongst that crimson, a mix of red and yellow hues to accentuate expressions both subtle and obvious. He’d certainly see it once he closed the distance between them, candlelight illuminating gold striae symmetrically splicing the dominant crimson. Though some patrons had given the wolf space as he moved, Krice remained at a comfortable lean against his chosen wall, hands in the pockets of his slacks, half-obscured by his robes. Assuming the wolf was asking about the destruction of Frostmaw, the warrior said, “ Many were.” He didn’t seem affected by the memories of the battle that were conjured by the start of this conversation, but such was the ability of a stoic; to hide one’s emotions, if he felt them at all. Lita's narration caused a belying of his natural neutrality when something in his eyes shifted. It was subtle, and Leoxander might notice it, but he wouldn't be able to identify it.

Leoxander cast a glance half way over his shoulder at Lita’s narrative remark, but he didn’t take his focus off Krice for more than that moment. ‘Funny, Ace.’ The brief expression on his profile seemed to say. Arms had folded across his chest with a slight crinkle of worn, matte leather in a natural stance, not one meant to be intimidating or display annoyance. “I’m gonna take a shot in the dark an’ guess it hit the heart of the city.” Leo hadn’t had a good look at the area, yet, but scents of blood and smoke and steel weren’t so easily carried away by the frigid wind when a large hole of destruction and crumbled buildings remained. The familiar knot between his brows etched in again; he wasn’t certain how Loravelle was going to feel about that rickety abandoned apartment being destroyed, but he had little hope that the bones of the neglected building had withstood the impact. It might hold memories but she had plenty of other homes away from home, now. That didn’t stop the wolf from looking her way in his pause of words for thoughts. Back to Krice, he kept his brogue in a low tone. “So what finally stopped it before it could wreck the whole bloody city?” He might have noticed the shift in the Enigma's eyes, but he gave no reaction or words to suggest as much.

Loravelle quickly leans in to hear what Lita has to say, and has to clap her free hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. She fails to stifle most of it, and eventually just gives up as Lita continues explaining, but she does try to keep it just a little quiet. Keyword is try. “S-so he's a wolf too...?” she asks, briefly glancing at Krice. The outer corners of her eyes are damp with tears from her laughter, but she doesn't care. While Lora attempted to be funny occasionally to lighten moods, Lita just had a gift for humor that she absolutely adored. It takes her a moment to compose herself enough to actually reply, somewhat softly because there's another wave of laughter coming on. She just knows it, especially with her now envisioning a silver-furred wolf-man and a golden-furred wolf-man duking it out in the snow just outside. Loyal as she is, of course her money would be on Leo if it actually came down to that, but now she's giggling at the thought. That schnapps must have been more than a hint because Lora just might be buzzed now, with that mug of tea finished off. “D-do you think...Who d'you think would win a snowball figh-” Lora can't even finish. She's giggling again, but she tries to stop when Leo looks their way. He heard that, didn't he. Though her mug is empty, she pretends to take a drink, using the mug tilted to her lips to help hide her reddening face. “...He's gonna kill me,” she murmurs to Lita.

Lita is watching the pair's body language more so than listening to their words. "See how the outsider approaches without his visible weapon? It's a show of good faith, perhaps that he means no harm. But the local male knows better. While he's amenable to the newcomer, he offers no greeting. And he answers the male's question but somehow manages to give zero information at the same time." She sips at her whiskey. Maybe this stuff was stronger up here. Maybe something to do with the altitude. Maybe the boots were making it hard to think straight. "Do you want another?" She asks, turning to Lora as she downs the whiskey in her glass. She snags the attention of a passing server and orders another round. Whiskey for herself and tea for Lora, sans spike, so they wouldn't have to cart home a sloshed Mouse. Though ohmigosh, a sloshed Mouse in snow would be so adorable. Snow angels and snowmen and making Leo build an igloo, probably. Maybe on another trip. Lora seems to hear her thoughts as she asks about who would win in a snowball fight and she doesn't have the heart to try and explain what Krice is exactly, if she'd even be able to. At Leo's glance, she loops an arm around the back of Lora's chair, offering an innocent looking shrug. The server returns with their fresh drinks and takes their empty cups, thankfully. "Leo is asking what finally stopped the destruction of the city. Wanna make a bet whether or not the local male takes the credit?" Lita only offers the bet playfully, since Lora doesn't know Krice. And Lora seems to like bets these days, which is even more fun!

Krice didn’t confirm or deny Leoxander’s ‘shot in the dark’, but any observer could assume it was accurate given the damage dealt to Frostmaw. The warrior glanced at Lita only when Leoxander did, noting without irritation the unfamiliar Loravelle’s amused engagement in conversation with the vampire, but steel crimson angled for wolfish blue as that blonde head began to turn. If he wondered why the other male was asking him specifically about the city’s recent story, he didn’t express as much. The enigmatic swordsman fell into the conversation easily, answering succinctly - without fluff. “ The Warrior’s Guild.” A beat. “ And some very devoted healers.”

Krice adds for Lita's observational sake that Krice, still leaning against the wall, appears as relaxed as he could possibly be.

Leo found it difficult to be so serious with the Mouse giggling behind him, and he was sure Lita was encouraging it. He managed not to roll his eyes… much, tried to block out the girls’ quiet conversation… failed. “Figured as much…” He’d fought a battle alongside the warriors and their commander, Lionel, a time or two before. For pay, of course, and maybe a gateway to a fragile alliance with the Silver Queen, at the time. He looked Drargon’s way with a motion that was clear enough to the aged and experienced frost giant that Leo was requesting another, as well, though he did finally reward the rogue with a bit of a suspicious, lingering stare, first. “You wanna drink? Think someone’s expectin’ a ‘hello’ from you.” It was no courteous offer to join their table as some might give, but Leo didn’t ever require those to take an empty seat. Why should this one? Having noticed that Lita had ordered Loravelle a second cup (...great.), he took a few steps toward the bar to collect his own, an easier path now that some of the other patrons had separated and settled from a collective crowd. He wasn’t about to get too comfortable in a city half demolished and still crumbling at the sinkhole’s pace, but he would eventually take a seat to give the ladies’ time to finish their second round. Lora might need it once they faced the devastation of the apartment building he predicted they would find.

Loravelle has to wipe tears from her eyes as Lita continues on, and at this point she's shaking from laughter that she's trying her hardest to keep quiet. Krice, who in her mind is now named Local Male, seems like his serious demeanor is either on par or more serious than Leo's demeanor could be. Leo is also known as The Outsider, now. “Yes please,” she quickly replies at the offer for more tea, schnapps spiked or otherwise. She's warmed up now, but more tea never hurt. The word bet immediately captures her attention and initially she thinks Lita wants to bet on who could win a snowball fight, Local Male or The Outsider. “I bet The Outsider. His arms look bigger than Local Male's so he might be able to throw bigger snowballs...” she blurts, then realizes that isn't at all what Lita wanted to bet on. ...Well now she looks even more ridiculous, but that little buzz is enough to keep her from getting too flustered over it. Now her gears are turning. Is Local Male the hero? Local Male sounded like a heroic title, she guessed. “I bet he will.” She doesn't know what she'll bet since she traveled up to Frostmaw without coin, but Lita was far more creative than she was and Lora bets to herself that the tattoo artist can come up with something that might even be better than gold to bet with. Squinting her eyes and leaning forward a little is how someone listens in on a conversation going on far away with other tavern-goers making noise nearby, right? She takes a drink from her new mug of tea. Squinting and leaning forward does not make one better at hearing, by the way, so she doesn't catch what Krice says and can't quite read his lips well enough to discern what might have been said, either. That's when a troublesome thought dawns on her. Poor Lita and Leo and presumably Krice, the silver-haired wolf, with their keener senses. Did they ever get any peace and quiet? “Do you get used to hearing everything or do you need ear muffs sometimes, Ace?” That question felt far too serious for their silly conversation, so Lora tries to pretend she didn't ask and takes a drink from her mug again. Way to kill the vibe, Lora.

It is Lita’s turn to bust out laughing when Lora interprets her question of a bet being over a snowball fight. She wipes the back of her hand across her eyes, shaking her head. Now she's imagining Krice and Leo in this snowball fight, ducking around buildings as they try to beam each other. Lora is just too pure sometimes. She's too distracted to come up with good terms for their bet and before she can decide, Krice is answering Leo. "Oh drats, he didn't take all the credit." She squeezes Lora into a brief hug with her arm still around the girl and slips at her whiskey as she asks that question about needing ear muffs. "It's easier to ignore things after a while actually. Like hearing it without processing it, I guess. It takes a lot of focus sometimes." Whiskey helps. Leo rejoins their table and she offers the pirate a soft smile. She'd have no qualms about Krice joining them. "Look at you makin' friends everywhere we go." She says to Leo, who's also managed himself a fresh drink. "Your girl is making awfully big demands about snowball fights." Lita is classy and an instigator.

Krice looked over at the women once Leoxander turned away, focusing on their conversation a little more - he figured since Lita knew that he could hear them, it wasn’t -strictly- eavesdropping. Before Leoxander moved too far away, he declined the offer of a drink. “ No thanks.” He wasn’t partial to alcohol; the taste was off-putting, and it had no effect on his fast metabolism. The ‘someone’ apparently expecting a ‘hello’ was assumed to be Lita, since he didn’t know Loravelle, and he spoke directly to her through the crowd. “ ‘Ace’, was it?” Not a name she’d ever given him to use. “ We can talk later if you want.” And if she didn't, that was fine, too. Pushing off the wall, the warrior spared one final glance at the other patrons, ensuring all was well, before he turned to exit. Despite his solid appearance, he moved lightly and with little sound, though it would be lost to less-sensitive hearing anyway.

Leoxander scratched at his bristling stubble on his jaw, grown a little uneven from a recent but healed burn, with a sidelong look toward Lita as he took a shot’s worth from his glass in a drink. Swallowing it, he muttered back in a flat monotone, “Sometimes I jus’ can’t help myself.” His glass set down, blue eyes moved to the bundled up woman at her side, enjoying tea that he hoped wasn’t as strong as the first, but knowing Drargon and his appreciation for making the rogue’s life more difficult, it might have just been stronger. By the time Krice was on the move toward the door with the wolf’s eyes following, he had snow and mud packed boot tread planted to the leg of the table in order to prop the chair back on the back two pegs as he had a habit of doing. “Leo.” He offered at just enough of a volume he was fairly certain the more-than-human warrior would catch it. In the past, he had always been reluctant and cautious to throw out even his shortened name to a stranger. But Krice wasn’t -entirely- a stranger. He seemed to know things, while he seemed equally skilled at not giving a lot of information away. Those were a couple traits that Leo could privately appreciate.

Loravelle's face lights up once Lita starts to laugh. She did it! She was actually funny, even if it was entirely by mistake. She'll take it, and for a moment she feels victorious. Forget the bet, even if she did like making bets, win or lose. Making someone laugh, especially a friend that bordered really close to basically family at this point in her mind, is the much bigger win. With her free arm, she hugs Lita back. It's reassuring to hear that Lita, and by extension she assumed Leo and Krice with their better hearing, didn't suffer as much from having better senses. Between being so close to Leo's blood the night before while tattooing him and this encounter with Krice, who she is still entirely convinced is a lycan like Leo, she's found her mind wandering toward what it might be like to be more than human frequently. Not that she'd ever ask for it, given she'd be the absolute worst werewolf or vampire, but it's strange to imagine. That thought fades away when Leo returns and it looks like the other lycan is headed out. She adds onto what Lita is instigating, and pouts. “So no snowball fight, then?” She takes another drink from her unspiked tea. Even though she's absolutely sure Leo can hear and that she'll get in trouble for this later, Lora leans in to whisper to Lita, grey eyes settling on the rogue mischievously. “I bet we could take both of 'em since they clearly both chickened out.”

Lita doesn't get the chance to try and explain that Leo has called her Ace since the day they'd met. A nickname Lora had adopted because of him and she didn't mind it, though she'd stopped using the name some years ago in Finn's absence. She offers Krice a smile and a brief wave. She still had gifts for him and Talyara from the Cenril bazaar, though she hadn't shipped them up yet, not wanting to with all the troubles going on recently. She lofts a brow at Leo when he props his chair back on two legs, more than a little tempted to lift a boot to the chair's front and push just enough to send the pirate off balance. But she'll be good. For now. "Agreed!" Lita says to Lora's conspiring. "Maybe sand castles would be a better activity though? No worry about freezing your fingers off an' all. We can have a contest or something at our bonfire and then let Leo knock 'em all down and pretend to be a dinosaur." She lifts her hands a mimics a raptor roaring playfully at the pirate.

Krice didn’t respond to Leoxander’s eventual introduction perhaps because, this time, he didn’t hear it. As he pulled open the door, Lita would notice something about the motion of his arm that was different to his other behaviour, and even then, only because she had known him once upon a time; subtle, a bit defensive, maybe. Not aggressive but certainly not positive. As the trio conversed happily about silly things, the enigma stepped toward Frostmaw’s chill, solid in the wind, and disappeared into the vast whiteness beyond.

Leoxander would have recovered well enough if Lita had tried. She wasn’t the first to consider that mischievous move. That balanced tilt back assisted him in finishing his whiskey off with another swallow before he landed four legs and a boot to the floorboards, setting the tumbler down. “Sorry t’ruin yer fun, ladies, but we’re goin’ in.” He glanced in Lora’s direction with a slight sign of a troubled knot above the bridge of his nose. Between Lita and himself, she would be protected well enough, but he still didn’t really enjoy the idea of making her face dangerous and frightening moments. It was an internal battle between that and his determination not to shelter her, as she had been all her life. “I didn’t hear much from that one,” A motion toward the door Krice had just walked through, “But I did catch a few murmurs. Damn thing ripped a hole in the city an’ a hole like that is never good in a range of bloody mountains with several decades worth the ice coatin’ the ground. If they don’t get some terramancers or some s**t out here soon I wouldn’t be surprised if it swallows this place off the maps.” He hated to be a buzz kill, but they had come there for a reason and he was in the same mind as the other two when it came to preferring sandy shorelines and sun. There wasn’t even likely somewhere for them to stay the night to recover unless Iinquotahae’s cabin had survived, and even then it was a risk on ticking off the vampire again.

Loravelle figures since Lita waved at Krice, she can too, so she lifts her hand to give a shy parting wave. But back to conspiring snowball fights. “I can't throw things very well, but maybe a slingshot...Actually,” she nods eagerly, agreeing entirely that sand castles sounded better and less chilly. “...Sand ball fights? Is that a thing?” But now she's picturing Leo with a big head and little arms, roaring and stomping down a tiny kingdom made of sand. She laughs so hard at this that she snorts, which only causes her to laugh more and try to hide her face behind a forearm from the embarrassment of the noise. But Leo's words are sobering, and she's brought back to the unpleasant reality that they were going to have to step back out into that frigid and snowy, broken city. “A hole?” she wants to insist on staying put inside the tavern, but she knows she has to be brave about this. Otherwise what was the point in walking all this way with him and Lita when she could have remained safe in Rynvale? Lora is pretty sure Leo isn't being literal about the entity out there swallowing Frostmaw, but she can't help envisioning some nightmarish beast with a terrifying maw, and it causes her to shudder. She finishes off what's left of her tea and finds her gloves to tug them back on so her hands won't freeze. Lora isn't ready, but... “Ready when you both are,” she murmurs. There's no confidence in that declaration, but she'll suck it up.

Lita doesn't really have any personal connection to the snowy city, not anymore anyway. "I can give you guys some time, if you want." It seems an important thing for them and she eyes Leo here, not wanting to intrude. She's not really surprised that he hadn't garnered much information from Krice but she keeps her opinions of it to herself.

Leoxander was quiet for Loravelle’s question to confirm, since he hadn’t actually seen it with his own eyes, but it’s Lita’s offer that causes his eyes to squint a bit. “We don’t need time, we need answers.” At least, he did. He stood up from the table and had a few pairs of eyes upon him as he did so, whether it was recognition from time spent in those lands during the tournament, or just the air he gave being in a crowded room. He looked back and forth between the two women, as he cared for both and was slightly more protective of one than the other, for obvious reasons. “If you two wanna stay here, I’ll go check it out and come back within a bell.” The timeframe given in case something went wrong, in case they had to come looking for him or find someone who would. Leo headed to his pack and bow all the same to strap them both to his shoulders and back.

Loravelle looked from Lita to Leo, uncertain if her tagging along might slow either of them down or not. But she wanted to see. The apartment she once squatted in at least – If it still stood, anyway. “I'm going.” She gets to her feet then to help confirm it and convince herself that she truly -was- going, unless either of them told her to stay. Who knew what was lurking out there. Admittedly, that worried her, but she tried to not look afraid of that. The thought of Leo going alone had her worried too. She had nothing to arm herself with, but maybe they wouldn't encounter anything too dangerous out there. Turning to Lita, she asks, “Are you coming too?” There's a little part of her beneath all of that anxiety and fear that wanted to show Lita how good she was at scaling buildings. If that rundown apartment was still standing, anyway.

Lita was okay with not having answers about Frostmaw, honestly. Even recognizing that that is a selfish thing, she'd had no problem putting a few cities between herself and whatever war was raging these days. She'd fought in enough wars and watched the city burn from a beach she now called home. But Lora decides she's going and Lita groans playfully as she follows the girl to her feet. "Well, someone has to help you if you go traipsing after Leo into some chasm or hell-hole." She's joking, probably. "So onward, Outsider!" She says to Leo.

[ Part 2/5: Journey to the Center of Frostmaw ]