RP:Bear Cares

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Location: Abandoned House, Kelay

Summary: After the Vailkrin Blood Bowl duel between Lita and Mahri, Leoxander leaves Ace in her new friend’s care and ushers Mahri and Loravelle to a nearby ‘safehouse’ to rest. Leo is visited later that night by a new friend of his own.

Leo had one in every city. Some building or loft or a shared, now demolished apartment to escape to when returning. And that house had been there forever and he’d never seen a light on or any activity in passing was one of them. He had resigned to the loft for shelter a time or two in the past when he was younger, homeless, broke and alone. It didn’t take much but a firm plant of the sole of his shoe to knock the rickety door open, the scent of blood and rot long since gone from the corpse he’d found murdered in the center of the bedroom long ago, but there was a bit of a musky smell for it’s abandoned status. Still, between Vailkrin’s tournament and their appointments with the sage healer regarding Loravelle’s health, it was convenient enough that it would provide a place for the three to rest until they were fit to travel back to their island. The satchel he’d retrieved earlier that day was there waiting for him - he must have prepared and shaken at least some of the dust off the couch and bedding, though he hadn’t anticipated bringing Mahri back a bloody mess. She would be lowered carefully while Lora closed the door behind them as best she could, but obviously the book keeper was under the weather and ready to collapse and crash and try to break her fever. “They got some twisted minds runnin’ this. That girl makin’ the announcements had her damned heart pulled out of her chest less than a season ago. Guess they want everyone to bloody suffer.”

Mahri 's wounds were already starting to close, though slowly. The ones caused by the silver and dragon blood infused glass were healing slower than her shoulder though. Laid on the couch, the wolf rolled away from the mirror stuck through her back, though it had been pushed deeper since Lita had rolled her over at the end of that fight. Beads of sweat dotted the alpha's forehead. She's coherent enough though. Mahri had a few choice words about that but will settle for, "Sucks to be her."

Leoxander picked up his duffel to take a seat on the edge of the couch near Mahri’s waist, or stomach if she rolled to her side. Her shirt was already ruined, so she might not object when he drew his hunting blade from its sheath to cut upward from the hem to mid-back, starting the search there for any glass shrapnel remaining in her skin. Of course, he wasn’t so cruel as to not also dig in that pack for a flask of whiskey that he opened and handed her way. “Glad to get knocked out when I did.” An inward shudder for the frequent, repetitive appearance of arachnids in almost every fight thus far. Once he found the first shard still buried like a tick in wolf fur, he used the tip of his blade if he had to in order to pinch the edge and remove what he could. Not likely to be a pleasant feeling on her end, but better out than in as to not keep poisoning her with silver.

Mahri accepted the flask and took a good long drink from it, nearly choking when Leo dug that knife in. She wasn't really one to yell, but from behind clenched teeth she'd issue a few choice words and invented a few. Once that shard is out though, the wound bleeds freely and adding to the stains left in the house. "I'm happy for Lita but I don't envy her," she replied once she could catch a breath and the tension left her body. Mahri'll keep that flask, and if Leo chose to bandage her back, will roll to her back again and nod towards what she presumed was the bedroom. "Go take care of Mouse. She doesn't heal like us. I fully expect to know what the hells you've all been up to."

Leo had some marginal medical supplies in his pack, gauze and bandaging never in short supply for his line of work. Mopping up the sideways trail of blood from near mid back to her side, he pressed it against the wound and held it there for a moment as blue met silver again. “I’m half ready to catch Miss Castle Blackwell in a dark alley as is, but we’ll see what happens.” He would in fact secure that bandage while she shoo’d him off, making no move to take that flask from her - she needed it far more than he did. “I’ll check on you once she’s asleep.” He’d be back and forth, checking on both of them, maybe even make a quick trip down the road in the morning to bring them a meal to aid their strength in recovery. A moment more of hesitance before the rogue stood, leaving his pack near Mahri’s claimed spot since Loravelle’s medicine was in his pocket, and he headed for the direction Loravelle had wandered in to collapse. Mahri might hear a few soft, low murmurs from Leo to coax the woman back to sleep, but otherwise the house would be as quiet as a Mouse.

Later that Night

Leo was in the company of two women that evening, but not in the way some men might have dreamed of. One was a bloody and half bandaged mess on the couch stained with some fresh sanguine color due to Mahri’s wounds, the other was fighting a fever bundled in layers and whatever Leo could find to try to help her break fever between doses of Talyara’s potent elderberry syrup, now and then. Needless to say, he wasn’t getting much sleep for the second night in a row since the Frostmaw expedition. Rather than the usual leather and weaponized attire, he was in a pair of baggy cotton sweatpants that had been borrowed, and beside the chain around his neck and the tattoos that marked a good majority of his body, not much else. The shoes had been too small, the shirt itchy and unnecessary, and from a recent transformation and the dire situation they left the mountain with, he was still running hot, so to speak. There was no lock for the rickety front door but he didn’t need one. And at that particular moment he was trying to quietly snap pieces of half rotted furniture into pieces to build a fire in the ash and dust covered hearth only large enough for a spit and pot. For their sake, not his.

Nortengaal had been in attendance of the evening’s bloody entertainment, partially to support both of the two fighters, partially to get himself used to the arena that he’ll soon be the entertainment in, and well, partially to enjoy watching a good fight. And quite the fight it was, leaving both of the combatants worse for the wear. Though he’s been keeping to himself at these events, Nort has been at least passingly aware of the other folks watching the spectacle, and it was quite a surprise to see Lora and Leo in the state they were in, especially Lora all bundled up and coughing or sneezing with every move it seemed. After the fight, he had followed the trio of Leo, Lora, and Mahri to an unassuming house in the Kelay area, uncharacteristically timid in approaching them, instead trailing behind them far enough to not draw attention to his lurking. Now though, that some time has passed and they seem to be settled into where they are currently, he cautiously approached the front door and gave it a solid knock before poking his head in around the edge of the door as it swings open of it’s own accord. “Er, hello there. I hope i’m not intruding too much, but i was worried about y’all and wanted to check in, figured this was the least intrusive way to do that.”

Leoxander might not have been entirely oblivious to the idea of being followed, but Nortengaal was pretty skilled at it, and the rogue didn’t have too much reason to worry. Not that a ‘were-bear’ he hardly knew couldn’t suddenly flip the switch and take one of them out for reasons, but he judged the man to seem like a reasonable type, based on sixth sense vibes. The knock might startle Mahri awake while Loravelle continued to sleep, aided by the elderberry medicine, but he touched his wolf-sister’s shoulder to calm her because he was already catching the scent of the therianthrope on the other side of that door. Which opened on its own to reveal the rogue approaching him, catching distant street lights in the reflective lens of his eyes so that they shined gold and green on his silhouette from the fire that was started mere moments before. “Keep yer tone down, mate…” The two were in recovery, after all, but Leo made room for Nortengaal to step inside if he wanted. Leo glanced passed the man to check their surroundings while he made that decision.

Nortengaal winces sheepishly and nods, stepping past Leo and into the building. As Leo presumably closes the door behind the bearman, he looks around and takes stock of the room. It’s a pleasant enough locale, cozy in an abandoned sort of way. The newly arisen fire adds a nice touch of homeyness, throwing flickering light over the sleeping forms of the two women in the room. Nort frowns at the sight of them; they may not be particularly close but he doesn't like seeing them like this. He turns to Leo and gestures towards the two of them, speaking low. “I know what happened with Mahri, but is Lora ok?”

Leoxander glanced toward the open double doors of the adjoining bedroom Lora was fast asleep in, but the position of the cooking pit did in fact illuminate her form resting in that bed. Mahri was right there, and he would have guessed she was feigning sleep if she hadn’t emptied his flask after a long day of brawling, weak from the silver glass he’d eventually plucked from her wounds like shrapnel from an explosion. Fortunately, he had a couple emergency flasks filled thanks to Loravelle’s smarts, and after a pull from one he offered it Nortengaal’s way to share a drink of that cold-weather whiskey. “She’ll pull through.” He had to keep telling himself that. “You missed a helluva night in the north mountains. I heard rumors but they didn’t do the site justice…” He didn’t press on with two much information unless the man seemed interested or asked.

Nortengaal takes the offered flask and takes a pull from it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before handing it back to the lycan. Casting another gaze at Lora’s sleeping form he nods. “She’s tougher than she looks. Comes with the territory, hanging around the folks she does.” He smiles, hopefully reassuringly. Leo’s clearly worried, and it only makes sense he would be - that’s his fiance in there. “I would offer my admittedly limited healing services, but i’m not sure they’d be any real help, to either of them. Lora’s stuff seems more internal than i can really manage, and i’m honestly not sure if what i do would work on silver injuries.” Broad shoulders lift in a slight shrug. “Silver doesn't seem to affect me the way it does you wolven folks, and I've never met another were like myself to know if I’m just lucky or what.” Another shrug. “So what happened up north? I’ve heard the tavern talk myself but I haven't made the trip up that way yet.”

Leo couldn’t help the faint smirk that Nortengaal’s comment summoned, despite that two women he cared very much for were on the mend. He had said those exact same words regarding Lorevelle in her more fragile human status to others, recently in fact. Lycanthrope eyes meet therianthrope eyes and it’s about then he decides for certain this Were is authentic enough to trust, to some degree. “Mahri’ll pull through it, too. She’s had worse than this.” Even when it came to silver, if Nortengaal had ever noticed the scars of chains on her body. “Lora pro’lly needs a break.” From them, those ‘folks’ as Nort’ had put it. “I kinda threw her into the lion’s den… expected too much too soon. But I’m not gonna see her die.” A vaguely cryptic remark that brought him back to a memory of when he was human and sick in similar ways. It remained seen if he would resort to bringing that same fate upon her that he had no choice in to survive. Moving to his pack, Leo took another drink from the flask before he drew a case of hemp rolled, herb-laced smokes from the bag and stood to offer Nortengaal one in turn. It was no bourbon dipped cigar but it was a habit that helped him mellow and level his thoughts. “We went to check out Frostmaw.” Murmured with the smoke between his lips as he lifted a thinner piece of wood on fire with his left hand to light it. There were some embers that should be sizzling his palm, but he didn’t seem affected by it. A drag taken and he tossed the branch back into the pit to exhale with a few more words. “D’know if you heard all that about the primal, Xicotl or whatever the (censored) it’s called, bustin’ outta hell. Rumors don’t prepare you for what we found.”

Nortengaal accepts the offered smoke readily enough, even though it’s not a habit he partakes of often. Mirroring Leo’s actions, Nort takes a small bit of burning wood from the fire to light his smoke, exhalation followed by a couple coughs. “Been a while.” he murmurs, before taking another, deeper drag almost to spite himself. “She’s definitely a tough one too, saw that firsthand myself today.” he says, indicating Mahri. That was some beating she’d taken, and given just as good as she got. The smiley face was a nice touch, definitely going to be a better looking scar than the one’s she’d gotten covered that night in Lita’s tattoo shop. “An’ Lora probably wouldnt’ve had it any other way, i doubt she’d do things differently if she could.” Nort may not know the small woman very well, and is perhaps speaking more confidently than he strictly should be, but he likes to think he’s got a good sense for people. Like Leo; theres no doubt that the lycan would do anything for the people he cares for, so his somewhat cryptic statement of not seeing Lora die is accepted at face value. Another drag is taken from the smoke, the taste mixing nicely with the lingering whiskey aftertaste. “I’d heard something along those lines, though ive been taking such things with a grain of salt, considering my sources. I’m a little surprised to hear that they werent all hot air. What’d y’all see up there?”

Leo chuffed a laugh that carried no humor at the man’s cough and admitted words, but only because his mind was stressed from the last couple days. “Yeah…” Another drag in the pause after he agreed with the statements regarding the duel. “Fig’ered they’d come up about even. But Ace’s been itchin’ for a fight, I think.” A bit of casual conversation with the other male was kind of a relief. Leo still wasn’t the accepted social aristocrat that many strived to be, but he was working on his ‘not-being-hated’ skills at his own pace. Speaking of whiskey, Leo snapped out of a long stare at the burning fire to take one more drink and pass it back, apparently working on those sharing skills, too. He let the man have his fill of it as he moved to sit caddy corner between Mahri’s prone position and the hearth at the edge of the flame’s flickering light. “Some panic, but Frostmaw’s a pretty hardened lot. There’s a bloody hole in the center streets the size of damn dragon nest an’ it’s still fallin’ apart, gettin’ wider. Lora’ had an upstairs place there.” Nevermind that it was an old abandoned apartment on a second floor. “S’been swallowed up. Thought that’d be our excitement for the night till we headed out to check down the west road…” Clearly that wasn’t the end of the story, but he answered Nortengaal’s question and gave some room for a few moments of quiet only disrupted by the crackle of sap in the fire until Nort or Leo spoke again.

Nortengaal took a long drink from the flask, making a mental note to find out what Leo’s favored drink of choice is. The past few times they’ve had occasion to spend time together, Nort has had an ample amount of the lycan’s booze, and it’s only fair that he return the favor. Passing it back, he moves to sit on the floor across from Leo, lowering himself carefully so as to not make too much noise. “Well, she definitely got one, that’s for sure.” He pauses a moment, considering that should he win his own upcoming bout, he’d be fighting her next. One thing at a time though, cant get too ahead of himself. Taking a drag off the smoke, he holds it for a second before exhaling. “Gods alive, that’s intense. I’m sorry Lora lost a place, that’s never a pleasant experience.” Nort lets the quiet sit between them for a few moments before prompting the other man to speak, clearly interested in the tale. “What was down the west road?”

Leo didn’t mention that the place had sentimental value for him, too. He couldn’t afford to admit those sorts of emotions, but his gaze did linger on the fire for several seconds as he took another hit from the handrolled cigarette held between his thumb and forefinger. An exhale of sweet scented smoke, not as pungent as raw tobacco, and he finished it up with one more to toss what little remained into the fire. A brief look to check on Mahri’s steady breathing was given before he looked toward Nortengaal. “We were meant to search out a known cabin, see if it was suitable to hole up for the night.” That was all the detail he’d give regarding that location. “Sp-... Gorehilt, you remember ‘em? He showed up on his horse with liquor an’ good intentions.” The rogue looked back toward the fire with a slight jump in his chest like a soundless ‘huh’. “Not no normal horse, mind you. This one’s literally on bloody fire. He had the right idea wantin’ to head back to town but half the tavern wrecked, half the streets crumblin’... you can understand my reason for hesitatin’ on that.” The flask he was once again in possession of was drank from before he twisted the lid back into place. “Long story short, Mouse an’ Ace spook the damn thing on it’s back, it goes runnin’ off back toward town…” Motions gestured as if Nort’ might follow those weird movements to figure out it was a while before they caught up to that moment where Lora was in one piece asleep on the bed.

Nortengaal listens to the story, quietly finishing his own smoke and tossing the ends into the fire along with Leo’s. As the other man finishes up with a number of gestures that somehow manage to wordlessly convey the last bit of the story, Nort nods. “That’s the half orc fellow yeah? On a flaming horse no less.” a chuckle follows. “I’ve certainly had my fair share of nights that started with liquor and good intentions. Sounds like y’all had quite a time up there, i can see how Lora ended up getting sick. She was walkin around today though, that’s a good sign.” There’s a few moments of quiet as the bearman regards the other man for a moment before he speaks again. “How about you? Youre usually more…clothed than this, how are you holding up?”

Leoxander slouched forward on the chair he sat on the edge of, arms bracing weight over the tops of his legs and his hands eventually together, thumb rubbing the heel of his opposite palm. A nod along with Nort’s comments was given and he continued to study the fire until that question came, bringing the wolf’s eyes his way, glinting in the dim lighting like copper coins with rusted centers. “Had to leave my stuff on the mountain to get the Mouse down quicker. Only caught up with Ace today.” As a fellow shapeshifter of the wild, he hoped Nortengaal might pick up on the clues that indicated that he had taken his were-form to get Loravelle to safety. But what he wasn’t saying was perhaps also hinted in his eyes. He was pretty worn out by that point, and couldn’t give into rest with two of the most important people in his life sick and injured nearby. Nonetheless, he’d been through longer nights. A change of subject was in order. “You’re gonna be in those pits pretty soon yerself, yeah? They seem to have a g’damn fondness for spiders in Vailkrin.”

Nortengaal recognized the fatigue in the rogue’s features, a very particular sort of tired that comes from the changing of forms. Perhaps Lora was sicker than Nort thought, or perhaps it was Leo’s protectiveness towards her that spurned him to that particular action. Perhaps a bit of both. In any case, Lora is safely snoozing away, Leo is here to keep her safe, and Nortengaal is glad everyone is alive and well. Despite his gregarious nature, the bearman doesnt really have a lot of friends, and he’s come to regard the folks here fondly. Moving along with the change in the direction of the conversation, he chuckles and shrugs slightly. “ They sure do. Kinda surprising honestly, I always figured that area for more the undead types. I don't mind spiders in general, but I’d be lying if i said that i wanted to get up close and personal with the monstrosities they've conjured up for the tourney.” Talking about the tourney sets the butterflies going in Norts stomach, but it was an excited sort of thing. Watching the fights has gotten him pretty fired up to take his turn in the ring, and win or lose he’s looking forward to getting down and dirty.

Leoxander once more nodded in agreement with the bear-man’s words. “Don’t think there’s much limit to what they throw together from the dead bins with that lot.” He knew first hand, even if he wouldn’t say, having been employed by the Headmistress of the city and what it stood for a decade before. More than employed, but the rogue was working on that lesson of not dwelling on the past. No matter that there was a faded tattoo of evidence on his left inner wrist. “So when’s the big day?” Leo sat upright and stood again, unable to stay still for too long, pacing barefoot to the frame of those open double doors where he watched Lora cough softly in her sleep. A hand delving into the pocket of those cotton pants to curl his calloused fingers around the bottle of elderberry medicine she was about due for. He’d have to make a brief escape in the next few hours to retrieve some breakfast broth for his fiance and his wolf-sister, unless… Well, first he’d look at Nortengaal to let him answer, if he knew the answer regarding information on his bout. But it was fairly obvious Leo had something else to ask him by the look in his eyes.

Nortengaal laughs, shaking his head. “So I’m learning. Gotta be some twisted minds behind the scenes over there.” Nort clambers to his feet, not wanting to remain sitting while the other man paces. He shrugs, looking a bit sheepish at the question. “I’m not actually sure, soon i think though. I need to contact a folk or two to find that out.” Lora’s cough catches his attention and he looks towards her from where he’s standing, hoping he hasnt somehow woken her. After a heartbeat or three of her not rousing, he looks to Leo again, catching something in his gaze. He tilts his head a bit to the side questioningly, acknowledging the look but not putting words to it.

Leoxander said to Nortengaal, "When you fig’er it out, you let us know, mate.” The fire was even starting to die down by that point, but since they were leaving the safehouse come daybreak, he didn’t bother to feed it more furniture. “You think you might do me a favor? I’ll owe you one.” Nort’ might not even have the chance to nod before Leo returned to his pack and rifled through it, continuing. “If you could cross the way to the tavern an’ ask for Nancy, jus’ have her prepare some bone and vegetable broth so I can pick it up quick in a bell or two.” Some gold counted out from his stash, one or two extra for tip and the therianthrope’s troubles, he approached to try to place the coin into Nortengaal’s hand. He wasn’t trying to kick the man out but he did need a little help. “It’d mean a lot to me."

Nortengaal nods “I’ll be sure to do so, it’d be nice to have some folks rooting for me on game day.” Before Nort can reply to the request the lycan has gone and retrieved some coin for it, and is back pressing it into his hand. The therian smiles and nods “Of course, it’d be no trouble at all.” He contemplates passing the coin back, as by his reckoning he owes the man for booze, but he figures that’s better suited for another time, and pockets the coins. Dusting himself off of the bits of debris from sitting on the floor he turns to head out, pausing on the way to throw out a line before exiting. “Let em know I stopped by to see how yall were doin, and that I wish them both speedy recoveries.”