RP:Acquiring Help

Synopsis: Eirik finds bastion in a healers tent, that has been setup to provide aid to Larketians. He discusses his ideas for getting those in the Labor camps out. Bastion agrees to help, using the insight provided by his own abilities and believes Eirik to be truthful.

Acquiring Help

Eirik, for the better time of recent events, has found himself working within Larket, despite his own dislike of the current ongoings. The Monarchy, since Valraes spell, is not one he actually enjoys. The evidence of what he’s done still scars his mind, but a plan has been brewing and he just needed some help. The northman found himself meandering through Larket heading towards Artias home. It’s the last place that he had found Bastion. A fellow who spoke out at Valraes burning. One who had also been responsible for helping heal the injured here in Larket. This particular individual could be a lot of help to him. Booted feet clank against the ground as Eiriks armorless frame turns a corner and wanders down the street towards larkets northern exit. How is Artia, he wonders? She’s not been around in some time.

Bastion is doing what he was doing before the execution... offering therapeutic services, including physical healing to any who needed it. he'd taken sensible precautions... prepared escapes in case of violence, looked to the Church of Cyrus for aid in keeping the peace, and asylum if needed. He hadn't found a witch in a very long time, though he'd help them escape if he did, certainly. Guards took it upon themselves, sometimes, to keep close eyes on him, but he wasn't harassed. No matter most of their opinions on him saving witches, he'd saved too many of their brethren, too many of whom still went to him for issues ranging as broadly as back pain to ptsd, for them to allow each other to harass him. Despite the beatings he'd taken in Larket, he took all comers in search of healing, and always with the sweetest smile. He was now in a medical tent they'd left him for use after the crisis with Kahran had passed. People around here had just gotten used to it, preferred it to a tavern or a bathhouse.

Eirik does find the tent that Bastion usually worked in, being in Larket as often as he is, he does know to look there first. At least before making the long trek out to Artia’s ranch in hopes to find the man there. His broad shouldered frame steps into the tent and silver eyes scan through the place of work. Taking note of the supplies that Bastion has herein and wondering if the man would even like to hear his proposal. He waits patiently until he sees that he’s free and then steps towards him to begin conversation. Like hey, do you remember me? “Last time we talked, we discussed the words you spoke at Valraes execution.” What has the man been doing since then? “Do you still feel that they are true?” Does Bastion still dislike the direction of the current crown and Eiriks position with them? The northman truly had a plethora of questions for him, but decided to start here first as a simple way of directing the topic towards some plans that he has been creating.

Bastion was surprised to see Eirik in this capacity, asking these questions... but perhaps he shouldn't have been. Larket was a bubbling cauldron... sooner or later, the water was going to start spilling out the sides. "I meant every word I said. And most of it was easily proven, besides. Simply listening to traveling merchants would have had the elite of Larket informed of the state of the wider world, but they are blind, and deaf to all but their own truths. A far sicklier curse than any a witch could cast has hold of this city... and I find myself helpless to relieve even its most minor symptoms." He had a bit of a sad smile at that, but seemed strangely relaxed for someone fighting a losing war. It was as though nothing really got to him... grief, terror, guilt. None of these things truly registered for the boy, no trauma could pierce whatever went on in his head. The only people who generally displayed such talents were sociopaths, who utterly lacked the ability to empathize, yet Bastion was a veritable manifestation of empathy. He was a walking contradiction to the mortal condition. Moreover, he said these things fearlessly to Eirik, in spite of the man's position. Perhaps it was trust... or perhaps it was his vows to truth.

Eirik is clearly unbothered by Bastions words. Whether he cares for them or believes them to be correct is left unstated. For a minute or so he mulls them over in his head, visibly so and look of puzzlement stretches over his scarred features. Finally he breaks the silence that he has created. “I’ve been planning something.” He is hesitant to talk about it before everyone here and instead moves closer to the male who has been offering help in Larket. When he breaks the silence again his voice is much lower, keeping the conversation just between the two of them. “Whether I agree with the current monarch now or not won’t be stated. Not until I’ve finished my work here.” His eyes flick around the room in an effort to ascertain who is watching them. Once satisfied that none are curious, he continues. “I’ve been working on a plan to get the few in the labor camps out and free. I don’t need warriors, but I do need some help getting them out.” Those silver hues flick to Bastion with a bit of a warning. “It might become dangerous, but I know you care for the people. I thought you might want in on this.” He falls to silence finally waiting to see what the man has to say.

Bastion listened to Eirik very carefully. Larket was something he took with the same care as he would petting a dinosaur... one sudden move could be the difference between life and death. He gauged as best he could the truth of Eirik, with all the might of his mystical capabilities granted by his vow. If he allowed himself to walk into a trap over this, he'd have little chance of survival. In the end, he decided to trust Eirik, in spite of trust being the... valuable commodity that it was. "Eirik. Josleen has proven unwilling to take the most basic precautions against liars in her midst. She is willfully ignorance... she deludes herself into believing what she wishes, and her son will be the greatest victim of that ignorance. You have seen the fruits of such decision making. If you agree with the current monarchy... then you will yourself to be blind, and deaf to basic truths as well. If that is your truth, then you should take great pains to reflect on what this means for you. About you. Most importantly, what that will mean for everyone you love, as you drag them to the depths of the abyss with you, unless you flee Larket and never look back." He would not watch Lana go down with Eirik for that. Nor Artia, nor Ava. "Ignorance is not a poisen... it is a disease. If it is to kill you, it is unlikely to stop with just you." Bastion never glanced around them at the people that might be watching, or listening... because he scoped the place carefully, and constantly, with eyes no spy could hide from, nor scrying spell. "I will help, however I can. I do not leave innocents to suffer when there is anything I could do about it. But I need to know you will not betray me, that you will not betray those that care for you, for some misguided sense of loyalty. Tell me I can trust you, Eirik." Bastion was serious... his face was filled with determination, his muscles more tense than usual, but relaxed more by far than those of a normal man in his position.

Eirik doesn't give in just yet to the whole ordeal of what Larket is or is not. Mainly because he can't fathom such things right now. He knows he isn't the one to bring about change here. His heart belongs to Venturil, not Larket and the moment he can free the witches here, he will be gone from Larkets borders for time immemorial. That is assuming that war does not break out between Frostmaw and Larket. If that were to happen, he would unquestionably back Queen Hildegarde. “Larket is Larket Bastion. Those who remain are either brainwashed or do not have the ability to flee from its grasp. I chose to stay as a snake, so that my access would not be denied. I promised Umeko.” His eyes shift around the tent again to look over the faces that have gathered. “I want no more larketian blood on my hands. I’ve soured of this place, and wish to be done with it the moment this task is complete. I’m far from ignorant, but I cannot jeopardize what I seek to complete.” He isn’t the hero of Larket, nor would he ever be. “So I can count on you?” He asks once more to confirm Bastions words.

Bastion listens well to his words, seeking the truth in him... and hears no lie. After a long moment, he dips his head in a nod. "Very well. When you need me, I will be there." He didn't know who Umeko was, but he believed Eirik to be a man of honor, given to honoring such promises. "What is your plan?"

Eirik mulls Bastions words over and thinks further about his response. “Basically we will use a distraction to gather the guards attention elsewhere. During this distraction, we will use the cover of darkness to take the witches out through a hole in the wall that was created during Kahrans attack. Once they are free from the camp itself, the Eyrie, will meet us in the woods to collect them and provide transport to Frostmaw. From there, they will each have their own choice to go wherever they please. I’m also sure that medical attention will be available to them as well.” His eyes once again move around the tent to scrutinize the faces gathered for moments. “I’ve already been speaking with the witches still in the camp. A woman named Sharna, who lives in the camp, has been preparing the witches within for an escape. They know it’s coming soon.” He’s quite serious. “However, I’m trying to gather a few more people for the mission to insure it goes off smoothly.” If Bastion knows anyone else, now is the time to speak up.

Bastoin mulls over his words, thinking of anyone else who'd be up for the brutal mission. There was so much that could so easily go wrong... He could think of no one he'd be comfortable throwing into harms way. "I can only bring myself, I'm afraid. But I can perform emergency healing services, to keep the victims stable before they get on transport, so that they will survive the long journey until medical service can be rendered." Gods knew, throwing a person at death's door onto a griffon was basically a death sentence without magical healing involved. But with just a few needles, Bastion could ensure they survived long enough to get away, at the least. Long enough for a chance at real care.

Eirik had not thought about medical attention before they chose to take off. He just knows that whatever Bastion plans to do for them, must be quick. The guards won't take kindly to their camp being emptied. However, he’s thankful that Bastion has brought up such a valid point. He visibly sighs, “Thank you Bastion.” His voice filled with a grateful tone. “I’ll send a letter when we expect to meet. Until then, stay safe and may your ancestors watch over you.” The northman offers a hand to shake the medics own before turning to take his leave. There is much left to gather still, and perhaps that supply maker would be up for the same? Like his entrance, his broad shouldered frame slips out of the tent and on to business as usual.