RP:Rubies in the Frost

Rubies in the Frost

(A Compass treasure hunt)

Crisien was sat beside Ballen, the old, grey-haired bard, who silently nursed his drink. The dragon, meanwhile, nattered in his ear. When Emilia placed the barrel of cider on the bar down from her, the girl's head lifted and a broad, broad smile took to her lips. "Emi," she trilled, ushering the other girl over, "Wanna sit?" That leather-bound journal was open on the bar, and Cris was wearing that excited, anticipating smile that accompanied her lust for treasure.

Emilia placed the barrel down with a smile as she received coin in exchange from Mesthak. The sound of a familiar voice caught her attention, quickly. Emi moved across the space between herself and the other to take a seat. Of course, that seat was on Cris’s lap, though the ghostly woman hardly weighted a thing. “What has that smile so bright this day?”

Rinn slipped through the tavern doors quietly, seeking warmth. Booted feet carried the slender necromancer to Mesthak crossing Emlilia's path though the stranger would only receive a passing glance. Rinn would peruse the menu before ordering an ale then glance about the room for any familiars. Pale blue pools would linger on Crisien followed by a nod in greeting.

Naeaftas was in a more... animalian state, having transformed while inside the tavern and taking a snooze beneath one of the booths. As cats will often do, the paladin had an ear tuned to the hustle and bustle of the establishment in his slumber, and that pointed gray ear twitched when it caught the less-than-refined (yet still pleasant to behold) voice of Crisien, the dragon whom the old catfolk had sparred on Isle Rynvale. Green eyes snapped open at the sound of her voice, and the fluffy warrior rose from his rest, sauntering toward her with his tail waving jauntily in the air. There was another familiar voice, that of Emi, though her scent was... untraceably different from their last encounter. Upon approach, Naeaftas stood on his hind legs, placing his front paws on Crisien's leg and looking up at her, the medallion of the Cat Lord flashing from its place on the feline's blue-tinted collar.

Crisien wasn’t expecting Emilia to sit atop her lap, and her distaste for being touched might well have momentarily flickered across her expression. However, this was not the first time she’d endured such from the genasi and, as history was wont to repeat itself, it’d probably not be the last. The farm-girl was regarded with a smirk eventually. “What d’ya think’s makin’ me smile?” she asked, eyebrows wiggling as she fully expected her friend to anticipate the source of her excitement. Rinn was shot a smile, too, accompanied by a flicker of her fingertips, “Rinn,” she breathed, “Perfect. C’mon over ‘ere; you’ll want t’hear this, too.” Crisien’s first alert to Naeaftas was the claw she received courtesy of the black cat that’d apparently decided to follow her around, but it was soon quelled with an impatient rub of its head. “Relax,” she told the straggly creature, “I know this’n. Well… I recognise that medal… thing-y.” Why wouldn’t she? It was treasure. “You wanna come too, catfolk?” she asked, directly. Oh! An elaboration would be good. “I reckon I know where we can find a sizeable collection of gems and jewels,” she said, voice likely only audible to those in her immediate proximity.

Emilia was one to take seat in a lap over a chair anyday, but that is in part falt of the bard she’d not seen in some time. Those wiggling brows and bright smile upon her friend’s face was enough to send a smile across those pale blue frosted lips of the genasi in return. “Well, I’d say you’ve gotten lucky last night, but I know better to say that I bet there is adventure brewing.” The white feline that was looking up at Cris was noted, but Emi had no recognition of the feline, nor this Rinn that was called over in their direction too. Shifting the white haired woman seemed a little nervous with such a crowd forming, not a people person. “I suppose a collection of anything to be found is worth exploring for.”

Rinn coiled her fingers about her glass quickly to snatch up her brew before making her way to the dragoness. Each step stirred the contents of her full mug threatening to spill free of the container. Rinn took a swig from her ale before taking a seat with the others, What have you found this time? She asked curiously before scanning over the other company. She stopped at the cat with a snicker, New pet? She inquired flicking her attention back to Crisien.

Naeaftas :: At Crisien's question, Naeaftas gave a feline affirmative, a meow with a slight trill, before lowering himself to pace around the legs of the redhead who had just joined them. When she asked about the dragon's new pet, the fluffy paladin placed his front paws on the newcomer's leg, just as he had with Crisien. Were one to suspect his sentience, the gesture would clearly say "Not necessarily", but to the inexperienced eye, perhaps he was just seeking some attention. A second meow was uttered as the transformed catfolk got a good look at Emi. My, had she changed! Last he had seen, her hair had been blonde, not white! And... blue lips were bad, right? Were she to look over to Naeaftas, she'd find herself seeing one of his green eyes closing in what might appear to be a wink. He'd give it a minute or so for her to recognize him; Emi hadn't seen him in cat form, after all, so the medallion and fur color might not have been enough of a memory jolt.

Crisien offered an eye-roll at Emi’s comment, but said nothing. Then, she glanced about - muddy brown gaze flitted from friend to friend; from would-be colleague to would-be colleague. There would be time for introductions later. “I don’t know yet, Rinn, but I’ve found somethin’ all right,” she said, nudging Ballen with an idle elbow, “I think I solved another clue in m’ledger.” The tiny, leather-bound book was held aloft momentarily, before being shoved back into her satchel. Expectantly, she looked across to Ballen and instructed, silently, for him to detail the clue. Obliging the unspoken order, the awkward, ageing old man got to his feet and cleared his throat. As ever, as soon as he started to sing, the man became… confident; his shoulders fell, his smile appeared, and the words that left his lips were sung with a sweet, careful melody that made Crisien’s foot tap against the floor. “Deep in the earth, hidden from view,” he sang, “You’ll find a trove; a ruby or two!” A wizened hand took to the bar, where it beat the rhythm, “Where ghostly, long-dead souls roam the plains,” cue glance to Crisien, who smiled encouragingly, “And they’re remembered by plight, but not by name…” he paused, dark, grey eyes watching the other treasure hunters, “Dig, my friends, with shovels and spades!” His tone fell; his words were hushed, likely only audible to those gathered around him, “And your efforts will rewarded, if you’re not waylaid.” When he’d finished, he returned to his seat and began, once again, to nurse his drink. “Frostmaw,” Crisien breathed, “To the west. Don’t the ghosts of soldiers roam?”

Emilia stared idly into those green eyes of the white feline for a time, trying to recall where she’d seen them before. Perhaps she’d never seen them before, she couldn’t recall. Her thoughts were jolted away from the white cat-man when old man started his tune of words lingering together in hinted telling of hidden treasure. While he spoke the ice woman snuggled into the lap of the dragon that she’d already stolen. One day she’d get Cris used to cuddles with her. The question posed by Cris after the man had finished was met with a nod. “Yes, there is a place out west in Frostmaw past the city in the deep depths of the snow where the ghost shall roam, wandering soldiers that never found peace after death in the war. It is a rather dangerous and frowned upon place to visit by the locals. It has driven a few mad.”

Rinn kicked out leg her as the feline clawed her and bent forward to give him a quick swat, Knocked it off. She'd muttered under her breath before straightening back up and crossing her legs comfortably. Rinn then turned her attention to Ballen as he rose serenading the riddle at hand offering him a cheering jester with her ale when he finished. Crisien's question was quickly answered by Emilia which gave her relief, she hadn't really explored those parts to much. You lead I'll follow. She offered with slight rise and fall of her shoulders accompanied with a smirk. Calen exited to the south.

Naeaftas recoiled from the kick and the swat, not terribly pleased with the reaction. He hadn't even twitched his claws, let alone dug them into anything! "You don't have to be so rude," he said, his voice heavily accented, though it would be unmistakable as the voice of the Hammer of the Cat Lord. "It's not as though I'd been trying to scratch or bite you, you know!" This was said only after the old bard had finished his song, a performance to which the fluffy warrior gave an improvised round of applause by tapping his claws against the hardwood floor. Returning to Crisien's side, the ancient catfolk sat on his haunches and looked up at the pyromancer. "So," he said quietly. "It's a treasure hunt up to the frozen north, then? By the Cat Lord's tail, I could swear that place will not let go of me; this'll be my third time up there!"

Crisien beamed when Emilia confirmed her suspicions. Her warning didn’t go unnoticed, and the girl’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she contemplated. “I’m willin’ t’risk it,” she revealed after a few, silent seconds, “Th’ journal says nothin’ about the treasure belongin’ to anyone dead, so…” a pause; a shrug, “…I’m not expectin’ it t’be cursed or anythin’.” Not that it’d stop her if it was, mind you. This was just meant to be a simple in-and-out job – get in, get the treasure, get out. Hoard. Rinse, repeat. Rinn was regarded with a smile, while those muddy brown eyes searched her person for a hipflask that might provide some warming comfort on their no-doubt frost travels, though she said nothing. Not yet, anyway. Naeaftas’ interaction with Rinn went mostly unnoticed, considering the girl’s anticipation for the hunt, but his words about Frostmaw didn’t. “Y’can show us where t’go, then,” she grinned at him, offering a scratch of his head if he’d let her – her tag-along, straggly black cat seemed to like such, so she assumed the catfolk would. “C’mon, then,” she urged, sliding Emi off her lap and getting to her feet while bidding Ballen a silent farewell (oh, and dropping Mesthak come coins for the ageing bard’s drinks). He wouldn’t be accompanying them – he never did. Without another word, the dragon headed southwards, where she’d tread the familiar roads to Frostmaw.

Emilia gave a small nod as she was slipped off the lap of the dragoness. The worries about traveling into the uncharted area of Frostmaw was a bit nerve wrecking. Satoshi had warned against going there alone, but hey she wasn’t alone! She was with Crisien and company. Reaching the snowy land she found herself more at home than anywhere else in the land anymore. Whereas most in the group would be wearing furs for warmth the white haired woman wore her simple farm girl attire minus the boots, those harmed the snow. She walked barefoot with the group, almost floating more than walking as she moved across the snow. Emi ventured here too often, partly as she had a greenhouse to the North of where the group was now. “Here leads to the frozen war-zone. Beyond this is the hunting ground and beyond that the fall ruins where the souls roam free.” Rinn was a bit taken back by the feline response and replied with a simple Oh. She then rose to her feet and accompanied the group up the mountain to the western gates. The adrenaline and previous boozes helped fight off the cold while they congregated to further discuss the game plan. Though her warmth would slowly fade with time forcing her fingers to busy at the buttons of her duster quietly awaiting further direction.

Naeaftas gave the redhead a sidelong glance at her response. "Oh?" was all he said before deciding that he would speak with her more thoroughly later. At Crisien's side, the old cat accepted the head scratch humbly, purring with contentment before hearing the dragon's order to move out. Figuring that traveling might be faster on two legs (and with a good bit of height), the fluffy knight shifted into his original form as he exited the tavern with the three ladies. Having done so in mid-motion, anyone looking would see a large domestic cat right itself while growing armor, all taking place within seconds. On the way up the mountain, the aged paladin gave Crisien a nudge. "Two things," he announced brightly. "First, I should clarify that by 'that place', I was referring to Frostmaw, in general. Though I have had a look at the ruins, I'm not much one to go poking my nose into haunted places." The last bit was said with a purring chuckle; it must seem strange that a cat tended toward staying out of trouble, rather than seeking it. "Second... how's the hand, my dear? Does everything work as it should?"

Crisien dug about in her satchel as the travelled, pulling out furs that’d serve to keep her from freezing to death during their travels. By the time they’d reached the Western Frostmaw Gates and Emilia was directing them, she was fully wrapped up in the warmest clothes she owned. Well, the warmest ones that’d been provided for her by Tristram’s staff when she’d asked for them. She was still oblivious to Emi’s condition, whatever it was, and the woman’d receive a few, wary glances as the cold winds whipped at her own, exposed face. She did –not- fancy her chances if she returned an ice-cube of a wife to Xersom, following their hunt. An idle glance was shot Rinn’s way too, her inward musings about the necromancer relating purely to the presence of that hipflask she carried. Would it be produced, soon? Crisien didn’t have too much time to dwell on it though, because she was soon flicking a thumb to reveal a small, delicate flame. To Naeaftas, she beamed, “It’d seem so. It’d definitely not be workin’ properly if y’hadn’t helped me out, though.” The revelation was spoken with an uncharacteristic seriousness, testament to how dire her situation would’ve been without the catfolk. The fact he wasn’t entirely sure about the exact location of the treasure didn’t bother the dragon, considering the fact Emi seemed to know. The girl had her outposts all over the realm, after all, and was maybe even better-travelled than Calen. That was saying something, too. “Careful,” she warned, stepping westwards and extinguishing the flame, “There are some nasty things around these parts.” A beat. “An’ those souls of war probably won’t like us snoopin’ around uninvited, either. Best stay clear of ‘em completely, if we can.”

Emilia would question Crisien later about this ordeal of her hand being injuried as it seemed was being suggested by Naeaftas. Where did he come from? Too busy in her own head the genasi didn’t notice the white feline change into the male. As the group however stood there at the gates that lead to the hunting grounds Emi listened to the world around them. She could hear the snow talking, telling tales of what lay ahead and behind them. “For now, it seems the snow is in agree with you Crisien, but it also says that the road ahead is clear of them if we follow the path. Stray from it and we could find trouble.” As if on cue the winter ground ahead of the cleared as if by magic with the next floating step the farmer took. Rough uneven mounds of snow all the way further into the ruins smoothed out in a very nice walkable path that the group could travel without being caught by a frozen undead soul. It would change here and there on a sudden whim to keep the company safe.

Rinn 's iced fingers would bury in her jackets pockets attempting to regain some feeling while pale blues looked over the transformed male briefly. Naeaftus was the second cat person she had ever encountered, the first not being pleasant, which controlled her distant reaction. All the talk of caution forced the necromantic spellblades leather duster back open allowing easy access to the hilts of her twin daggers. The sound of the snow crunching under her boots tug up the corners of her lush lips as they continued to their destination. For her things seemed still and lifeless almost like death which put her at ease. What exactly are we looking for, now? She asked in a soft tone breaking her day dream while reaching for her liquid warmth, she'd offer the flask to Crisien first before she'd take her pull, as usual.

Naeaftas gave Crisien the warmest smile he could muster as they continued into the ruins, along Emi's strange snow-path. "Much as I could start a trail about what would and wouldn't have been necessary, I'll say that I'm glad you're doing well," he said, gazing at the perfectly-rapaired hand and resisting the urge to grasp it; to check his work. No, he needn't worry about the fidelity of his restoration. She could conjure fire, and that was proof enough. Approaching the woman who had so suddenly swatted him aside, he said, "My intention was not one of offense. I would like to apologize for making you feel uncomfortable, if I have done so." It was not the first (and certainly not the last) time the paladin had taken the heat for a bad situation; he was always much more interested in peace than he was in trying to win any argument or confrontation. Hopefully, this woman would see his placating nature, and be receptive to it.

Crisien instinctively trusted Emilia when it came to ice-related things, given her new body temperature, hair-colour and general appearance. Hollow was a strange place, that much was well-documented, but… she had a particular, vested interest in the genasi; one that centred around friendship. It was a conversation for another time, though. “Yeah,” she said tentatively, watching the snowy paths clear as they moved. Occasionally she swore she sensed –something-, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was. Instead, she chose to ignore it. The extended flask was accepted gratefully, and Cris took a swig before she replied. When she spoke, it was being held out to be returned to its owner. “A tunnel,” she said, lips beginning to chap as she spoke through the blizzards, “The book had the word ‘tunnel’ in it. I only know of one, around here…” When they arrived, those muddy brown eyes started glancing around, as if searching for something. A click of her fingers later, and a flame was conjured – a stronger one than previously, this time – to provide light for her companions. “See,” she said to Naeaftas, “Perfect. Thank you.” After a moment, she kicked at the floor with a booted heel, listening; when a decidedly hollower noise was achieved, she beamed. “Here!” she announced, “Guys; here! Let’s dig!” Several trowels were produced from her satchel – always prepared, was Crisien – and she handed them out.

Emilia laughed at Crisien when she said it was time to dig. The ground here was frozen and she’d offered them trowels to break through frozen ground for treasure. A soft giggle that sounded like falling snow left the genasi. Bending down she whispered softly to the ice and snow beneath their feet. As if it was alive the show and ice cleared way to the ground beneath, a ground that the company could easily dig into without the ice making it more troublesome.

Rinn nodded along with the catfolks words as she too apologized for their first encounter before she took a shovel from Crisien. Her knees would hold the tool first while her hands twisted her scarlet mane out of her face and into a knot. She was use to digging in her line of work therefore she was fast. She placed the spade to the earth and forcefully kicked it into the earth disrupting the settled soil only to cast it over her shoulder, repetitively. Her only pauses were for sips of her flask and wiping of her red arched brows.

(to be continued…)