RP:S1, E6 Grandpa Knows Best

Summary: Lanara is in the forest, distraught over the loss of her cat, Lucky. A green-skinned half-elf happens upon her, as she's burying her cat, and fends of a meddlesome boar. Largakh takes a tusk to his leg, and as Lana offers to mend his wound, the two strike up a brief conversation, in which the woman pours out her heart over the loss of her feline, and her lover. Largakh dumbs down his mentality and offers advice, when some ranger's come and assault the man. The witch defends him, realizes that he was 'pretending' to be a simpleton and accused him of being one of Eirik's henchmen, or perhaps a pursuer of her shark-horse, Puddles. The crazy tale takes another turn, when the half-elf heads home and his grandfather makes an accusation about Lana, which sends her running off in tears. All in all, the elders know what's best, and grandpa is happy to be rid of the little witch.

Lanara sits atop the freshly dug earth, tears streaming over her lightly tanned cheeks, as she places a lily atop the burial mound. The outskirts of Sage Forest had seemed the best place to bury Lucky, the little kitten that she had rescued only weeks before, and so she had made the trek from Venturil to this very place. Grass stains are evident on her tan leggings, and her hunter-green corset has a few spots of dirt, though they manage to enhance the fact that she was a forest-dweller. Sniffling, she tucks her long chestnut hair behind her tapered ears, and she stares at the lily, unsure of what to say. Funny, how the witch was notorious for her bouts of rambling, though now she looks almost lost. She made broken look beautiful that was for sure, as she lifts her chocolate brown eyes to the sky, and purses her lush lips. She speaks to her Goddess in silence, though it remains uncertain if she’s asking why Lucky had to perish, or if she’s asking for his safe passage to the Rainbow Bridge. The minutes tick by, and as a faint breeze causes the ruffling of leaves, Lana snaps out of her reverie, and pushes herself to her feet. Dusting the debris from her torso and legs, she relaces one boot that had come undone, and feels the sinking suspicion that she’s being watched. Suddenly alert, she continues to thread her laces, though her eyes remain glued on the trees to her right.

Largakh was carrying something one of his grandparents needed and he didn't want them leaving their home too much because of the plague going around so he went out for them. Lately he's been showing his face around Sage again since he left as soon as he secured a job in Gualon so his grandparents could get in good with the community again. They are elderly in his mind and sort of babies them, they wish he'd stop worrying. No chance. Being half elf and half orc he was adept at hearing and came across a woman sniffling over a small grave, but she is also an elf and probably hates orcs so he didn't linger or offer condolences like he wished he could. When he went to continue on his way and leave her be he read her body language and also heard something stirring in the trees so he hesitated… Lucky he did because not a second that he dropped the package he was holding there was a raging wild boar about half the height as the elf. He knows he should not intervene and she seems she could handle herself, but in the off chance she's not prepared and may actually thank him for once he was in it to help. Tell like an orc but sort of wiry like he was built like an elf and he moved silently on top of his speed. Nearly in the blink of an eye he was on the boar after tackling it and wrestling it to the ground. Not without getting penetrated by a tusk in the leg and eventually he got it on it’s side before sitting on it, strong hands holding it by the tusks. His blood wasn't right, it was a darker red and almost sticky seeming. He wasn't about to kill the wild boar in front of her and hopes to just let it go running another direction, but he needs her to run. “Run!” His sharp angular features thrown off by the yellow eyes, dark green skin and harsh orcish voice.

Lanara pushes her palms to the ground, as she readies herself in a crouched position, alert and prepared for whatever aimed to crash through the trees and strike. However, she’s not prepared for the wild boar and the male that pounces upon his wiry-haired back. Standing up to her full height of a mere five foot, five inches, she wears a bemused smirk upon her tear-stained face, at least until the tusk of the boar delves into the leg of the green-skinned elf. As he warns her to ‘run’ she does anything but, as she narrows her dark hues, and holds her ground, her heels firmly planted on the newly dug soil. Stubborn to a fault, she quirks a brow, merely watching the battle between the beast and the orcish elf. As his blood begins to seep through his pants, she decides to step in, and perhaps it’s this moment that Larg would find that this unassuming elf is much more than she appears to be. Patting her right thigh, she focuses her sights on the ill-mannered pig, and it seems as though she telepathically gave him a message, for he uses his strength to break free of the green male, and trots over to sit at her feet. “There’s a good boy…” She coo’s, bending at the waist to pat him atop the head, as her gaze lifts to the man who sits amongst the leaves. “He wouldn’t have harmed me, I assure you that, but you have my thanks…. Mister?” Her voice trails off, as she doesn’t know this would-be hero in the slightest, though she finds herself leaving the boar’s side, to approach the man and assess his injury. Meanwhile, the boar snorts in response to the pair, before he runs into the brush and leaves them to their own devices. The elf doesn’t offer her name, nor does she offer any explanation about the boar’s sudden change of heart, she merely kneels on the ground and reaches out to grasp Largakh’s leg. Should he allow the contact, she would tear through the fabric, and fully inspect the wound, with gentle fingertips, and the eyes of a healer. “I can cleanse the wound and it will require stitching. There’s a large clearing up ahead. I have a backpack there, with some supplies.”

Largakh watches in slight surprise and assumes it must be one of her pets. He feels a bit of a fool now, but halfheartedly inspects his new wound - definitely not the first if his face is any indication. When she comes over to help with it, no he had no issue, but he gently grabs her wrists so she doesn't touch it, “no you touch blood.” Trying to dumb himself down - everyone expects it. “Poison,” he takes his soft leather jacket off and then his shirt, revealing a slender and toned torso. More distractingly was probably his skin condition, dark green and sort of thick skin dappled in contrasting blue. This half orc must have had it rough growing up! I can hear the name calling now. It becomes evident why he took his shirt off as he rips it as if it were paper and wraps his wound up which creates a nice barrier for to soak up the blood. After he stands right up while putting his jacket on, thanks to the orc half for the high pain threshold. “Larz…” He answers, tuscan yellow eyes glancing to her while fastening his jacket shut- no one wants to see that. Walking without issue to pick up his package off the road he mentions nonchalantly, “will heal fine.” He mostly didn't want her to get hurt in the process. Then he walks over to the grave she was at and simply asks while nodding to it, “who?”

Lanara flinches as her wrists are grabbed, as though she feared his intention was to strike. Instantly, she backs off and lowers her hands, her eyes wide as saucers. However, he didn’t mean to cause her harm, and it’s apparent as he hulk-shreds his shirt, and reveals a multi-colored, yet toned, torso. The hybrid had a nice figure and her dark hues trail over his physique, as he introduces himself, and she replies with a faint smile. “Large…. Lard. Lard. Nice to meet you… I’m Lana.” She epically fails at saying Larz, and although she is highly intelligent, she has trouble mouthing his name for some reason. That or the brief contact of his fingertips and undressing had thrown her for a loop. So, she rises to her feet, and allows him to staunch his own bleeding, while she trails after him as he walks to the gravesite of her beloved feline. The inquiry is noted, and she waits a beat, before offering a reply. Now, the reason she finds it hard to form the words is because her voice is riddled with emotion. “Um… His name was Lucky. I rescued him in Venturil. He had a bad eye infection and was underfed… My um…. My… He….” She pauses, unsure how to refer to the man she had left a few days ago, unsure how she’d find the strength to mention the broken engagement. The male was a stranger, but she finds some unknown force urging her to be honest. “Eirik. He named him Lucky. Because I gave him a second chance at life, and we believed he’d make it.” Much like their love, but that too, had failed. Lana looks away, her big brown eyes filling with tears, once more. The witch had a rough week. First she lost her love, and now her pet.

Largakh doesn’t seem bothered by how she says his nickname. Not much bothers him. He was quiet a moment, much like she was when she said her own goodbye and after a moment he offers, “docile animals… Don’t like Larz.” He motions to his injured thigh, “animal smell evil.” Yes soooo evil. He opened the package and pulled free a fruit before kneeling down on a knee before the grave and resting it where she put the marker as an offering. This might be viewed as strange for an orc, orc’s don’t care about things like this and this gesture is a very old elvish custom. While down on a knee he hung his head and rested his elbow on his knee - seems he was offering his own kind departure of the dead. He stands back up to his six seven height, but sort of slouched to make himself shorter. This was just a habit he’s used to like how his jaw shifts then tenses to hide his underbite, “Larz sorry for Lana and Eirik.” He was giving his condolences to both parties involved - assuming they were still ‘my um… my’ type thing. Larz doesn’t think up much of an opinion on Lanara’s looks simply because all his life females don’t really think much on this awkward lanky half-orc thing. A bow of his head, “Larz let Lana grieve now.” He would start toward the path, but could always be stopped.

Lanara sniffles, her eyes narrowing as the male drops to one knee, and places some type of offering on the little grave. Her mind conjures up the image of the little orange and white kitten, and she blinks back her tears, as she mistakes the orange on the grave for a resurrected feline. No. It’s a piece of fruit. Lucky hasn’t returned from the dead. Her heart races inside her chest, and she’s holding it together, albeit barely, when his next words catch her off guard. He was sorry for the break-up of the witch and the lycan. This moment of random kindness from a sheer stranger is all it takes for her composure to snap like a twig, and she collapses on the ground. Hugging her knees to her chest, she sobs, uncontrollably. It had been so long since the woman allowed herself to ‘feel’ and it seems that she was so overcome with grief, that there was no stopping the tears that fell in a continuous rhythm. In losing Eirik and Lucky, she was also losing herself, and as she sits broken beside the grave she had dug by hand, she lifts those heartbroken hues and looks at the green-skinned male, as he aims to depart. “Wa-Wait…. I’m sorry.” Between her tears, gulps for air, and sniffling, she manages to speak, though her voice is somewhat shaky. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually this sensitive. It’s just been a really rough week.” A pause, as she sniffles, and tries to dry her tears with dirt-stained fingertips. “First my cat died. Then I broke up with my fiancé. And now I’m sort of at this scary crossroads of life, and I can’t figure it out on my own… Y-You don’t know me… But maybe you can offer some unbiased advice?” Lana tilts her head, looking up at him with pleading eyes. The elf needed a good dose of tough love, or perhaps a friend, and clearly, she had no one that was willing to be there for her at this time. Had he met the woman on any other given day, he’d find that she was rarely vulnerable, and often had a smile on her fair face, despite what she was feeling inside.

Largakh thought her crying was entirely normal for losing a pet, but he’d never felt it - as he explained, typical animals flee from him. He did stop easily at her words, didn’t even get one step and glanced around… Crap, someone is going to think he made this girl cry. Against better judgement he stays, puts the package down and sits next to her. She would find he smelled of old leather and a hint of a warm campfire, as if he spends most of his time in a forest, “Lana no sorry.” As if to say ‘don’t apologize!’ A small shrug of a wide shoulder, “it okay to not be… okay.” Again trying to not sound too wise or intelligent. Believe it or not, it sometimes works! He had meant he was sorry to the pair for their loss, stupidly, but he doesn’t take his gesture back. A raised brow given to Lanara now when she asks for advice, “Larz can try… Lana regret asking dumb orc.” For good nincompoop composure he gives his skull a knock. Least he can do is offer this grieving lady advice so he caves, sitting next to her and her dead cat, “ask Larz.” His jaw seems to shift and tense, making those angular features seem more severe, but then he gave a reassuring closed mouthed grin while trying to hide his underbite. His long lanky legs were out before him and bent at the knee so he could drape his arms over them - giving off a very casual look even in the back of his mind he’s totally expecting an ambush or something.

Lanara looks pitiful, and she inches nearer to the male, assuming he’s harmless as he already wrestled a boar to provide her protection, and he also didn’t seem to be all that educated. As she tries to make sense of his words, she gives a curt nod, and nips her lower lip. All at once, words pour from her mouth, and she gazes into his tuscan yellow eyes. “Okay. So. I’m a witch. And I was engaged to a man that used to torture and kill my kind. Except he stopped doing that, due to a curse. So we fell in love. And everything was amazing for a few months… But then he stopped noticing me. There weren’t any more dates, the intimacy vanished, and he cared more about protecting strangers in the city than his fiancée. I… I helped him one day, when we were at war. And I was badly hurt. But instead of getting a healer, or helping me… He just left me in the battlefield. So… I waited. And a few weeks later, I planned this fun, romantic night…. But he never showed up.” A pause, as she swats at a rogue tear. “So… I called off the engagement and moved out of our home. I left Eirik. And I don’t think he’s even noticed my absence. But… I feel this pain whenever I imagine his face. And I can’t stop thinking about the good times we shared, before he forgot that he loved me” She’s afraid that the tears will fall again, so she blinks them back, and shrugs her slender shoulders. “I believe I did the right thing, even if it brings me pain. But, how do I cure a broken heart?”

Largakh was quiet, his eyes deceive his dumb demeanor because there's things he's registering and watching her facial expressions change. There was a dry scrap of his refashioned shirt dangling off his leg and he rips off the square to give to Lanara so she could use it as a impromptu kerchief. “Man not know good thing till it be gone,” a cliche. “Give time. Man maybe come back,” then she is speaking of things he really knows nothing about. He’s never even been in a relationship because he’s too scrawny for his orc kind, but too orcish for elves and anything in between. “Larz don’t know that love,” which means that whatever he might say could be total bogus, but he watched his grandparents enough to know of it. “Good to remember good time… Learn from bad time... No cure, but time. Love self first,” if she can understand his fake dumb speak - the gist of it is to think fondly of the good times and learn from the mistakes. No there is no cure to a broken heart besides time and she should love herself first before trying to love someone else. “Only Lana can fix,” never expect someone else to mend a broken heart - that’s a lot to ask of someone. It was then their heart to heart gained some unwanted attention as a Sage elf approaches, “damnit -orc-!” He spat the race name, “how many times do we need to tell you we don’t like your kind here and look what you are doing!” The man points at Lanara, “making one of our kind cry because you won’t leave her be! Are you -that- stupid!” Larz understands the insults, but his patience is strong so he simply stands up without a word and goes to grab the box he’d been carrying. The elf clears his throat, “I’m sorry orc. This is the second time you’ve disturbed us in a week.” Once Larz saw the guards appear with rope he didn’t resist, turned, fell to his knees and put his hands behind his back. This wasn’t enough for them and they started to make him submit with unnecessary force while shouting at him to stop resisting even though he wasn’t, but this wasn’t the first time this happened in Sage with him by far… It’s fine, his grandparents will just have to pick him up… Again.

Lanara accepts the scrap of his shirt, and dabs at her face, as the flow of her tears slows nearly to a halt, upon hearing his words. She’s immune to the fact that he’s playing ‘dumb’ as she finds his words thought provoking and wise. “Thank you…” Lana seems to absorb his meanings, and she gives a nod. Yes, she was done with giving her heart fully to another, at least for a long time. Although she had only been with Eirik for four months, and their relationship was intense and always in fast forward, the feelings were real, and she loved him with all her heart. It would take time, a –long- time, should she ever fully be over the lycan. As she blows her nose, the sound alerts some of the rangers that patrol the area, and three elves stand over the form of the weeping witch. Lana looks up at them, wordlessly, and only when she sees Larz’s reaction, does she speak up. “N-No! STOP! What are you doing?!” The taller of the trio, and a high-elf at that, gives a haughty sneer in Lana’s direction, pausing just for a moment, before he lifts a large branch and aims to break it over the innocent bystanders head. “I said NO!” Without warning, the wind picks up and the high elf has been thrown back about ten feet, before his back smashes against a tree, and he falls to the ground, unconscious. “Lard. Get up.” Now standing, Lana places herself between the green-skinned boy, and the other two ranger’s, who look at each other and shrug, before running off. They may have had their bows equipped, and easily could have taken her in hand-to-hand combat, but no one wanted to be put up against the magic of the woodland witch. The power of the witch sister’s had been heard in most of Lithrydel, though only a scant few could recognize Talyara or Lanara by appearance, as their stories of magic, fame, and infamy, had spread to lands that they’ve never dared to venture or even heard of! A sigh escapes Lana’s lips, as she extends a hand to the male, offering him assistance in rising. “Are you alright? That seemed so… Racist. I mean, I know that high elves generally are snooty, but he had blood in his eyes.” Her hues shift to the unconscious male. “And now there’s blood on his head and neck.” Without a semblance of sympathy, she looks back to Larz. The woman often stuck up for the underdog, and in this case, she knew she did the right thing. “What’s in that box you’re carrying? And… Where are you headed? I better walk with you, just in case the other two come back, or bring reinforcements.”

Largakh watched from his side on the ground in slight surprise and eventually sat up, “Lana, don’t.” Dammit… Too late and that time he probably sounded a bit smarter than intended. Easily breaking free from the ropes due to his orcish strength and standing to try and stop her from doing anything else. His hand easily wrapping around her bicep, “wait.” He saw the look on the attacker’s faces and watched them run off, so he quickly dropped his touch from her - inappropriate, touching strangers (no one should want that from his kind.) There was supposed to be an offering ceremony to nature and his grandparents needed these fruits for that purpose. They have also become outcasts to the community and he thought if he moved away it would help, “fruit.” She was standing closer to the box now and she might see within the box was a tiny list of the types of fruit he needed - so he can read! Furthermore the words were written in beautiful cursive elvish - so he understands elvish!? He would easily step around the woman and pick up the box with a mention, “Larz no fight elves.” He wonders how much longer he can keep this dumb act up, people usually leave him alone by now. Long strides start to take him back along the path, away from the village, and if she followed he was concerned with how he was going to explain Lana to his grandparents. So… He starts to try to devise a plan to drive her away, but it’s failing him for now.

Lanara feels his hand on her bicep, and for a split second the fire in her eyes turns to the half-orc, her opposite arm clenched into a fist, as though she were going to lash out. Clearly, she didn’t like being man-handled in the slightest. Though seeing the look on his face, her expression softens, and she takes a step back. The fact that he rose to protect the two elves. He said her name and called her off of his attackers, without sounding entirely incompetent. And that writing on the box was in Sylvan. So he spoke the language of elves? Not only did he speak Sylvan, but he could read and write, as well? Why did he feel the need to lie to her, a highly intelligent woman? Narrowing her eyes on Larz, she follows him along the path, her footfalls eerily silent. It looked as though she were going to his grandparent’s house, as well, unless he turned around to object. Arms crossed over her chest, she blows a strand of hair from her face, and clears her throat. She disliked being ignored. “So… Eirik sent you, huh? It all makes sense. You’re part of his little warrior group from the wild west? I mean… It all fits so perfectly. You played dumb. You knew that I was distraught over losing Lucky. You even mentioned that Eirik may come back to me. Coincidence?”

Largakh doesn’t know her or this guy she talks about and it takes him a moment to answer simply because he was listening for other people around. There are none, so he can finally drop the act, speaking common in that harsh orc tone, “I have no idea who that is. I’m sorry about back there, but I don’t get into conflict with the elves of Sage, anymore. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt for simply being near me,” he was very matter of fact, those tuscan eyes set on the path ahead of them. “If you find my original disposition untrustworthy I will completely understand if you don’t wish to follow me anymore.” He could explain that playing dumb is a defense mechanism to weed out people who cannot get past his odd mix and aim to ridicule him, but he waits to see her next move before talking more.

Lanara continues on the path, stalking after the half-orc, her eyes glued to the back of his head. “So you can speak common, and fluent. Cute when someone drops the act, huh?” She didn’t entirely believe that he wasn’t one of Eirik’s henchmen, and the fact that he was telling her to ‘get lost’ only amplified her suspicions. He had been founded, and rather than own up to his discretions, he was running scared. “So. If you haven’t been sent to spy on me for Eirik Vergessen… Than who? Informant, please stop. I mean you no harm. I merely want answers.” As if to emphasize her point, she tugs a gold coin from her pocket, and places a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “A coin for your tongue. Tell me. Is this in regard to Puddles?” She quirks a brow, to tell him that though she was relatively harmless, she wasn’t up to any games. Lana had just buried her cat, and if her beloved shark-horse, Puddles, was in trouble, she deserved the truth.

Largakh was running late! He doesn't stop, “Puddles?” He looks at the ground, no puddles there. “I don't need coin, but I am late,” the path become less familiar and less worn, but anyone who is tied to Sage know an elderly couple that has been shunned by the community lives here. The husband being a knowledgeable healer and the wife a well known priestess, but secrecy shrouds why they were outcasted eighty years ago. Did he have something to do with it? “The dumb act. It’s what people expect from an orc and it’s become more of a defense tactic,” no one cares to get too close to some simpleton orc. If she was still following she would start to see a modest elven home with a small farm and an elf of about a thousand standing on the porch watching them with confusion. Larz keeps going and once in view the old healer paints on a forces smile, “Larz, my boy… Who is this?” Larz steps up on the porch and sets the box down, “Lana.” It may be evident now the orc is half elf - explains his wiry build. Out of politeness he introduces, “this is Theoduin.” The old healer still looks at Larz expectantly, “Larz…”

Lanara sighs, and though she’s uncertain about the man, she didn’t think he was continuing to play stupid. Still, she follows him, and as they come up to a house, she surprises herself by smiling at the man standing on the porch. He was an elder elf, and she had never come across this section of the forest, so the humble abode is inspected through those impossibly dark eyes. Theoduin seemed to be rather cordial, and the witch leaves Larz’ side, and marches up the front steps, her smile warm and inviting. “Hi! Pleasure you meet you. You must be Lard’s... Grandpa?” She pauses, as a dainty hand it extended, and she flicks her gaze to the half-elf. “Lard didn’t tell me you were so young and handsome! And living in Sage Forest! I lived in the area for a while too, after my homeland was destroyed.” At this, the smile fades from her features, and she tucks her long chestnut locks behind her tapered ears. Oddly, the witch found it easier to bond with Largakh’s grandfather than the male, himself. Likely, because he didn’t feign being an idiot, and because they both were forest elves.

Largakh watched as Theoduin sets his eyes on Lanara with severe scrutiny while Larz still looks calm and rather unaffected. “Larz, thank you again for running our errands. We wish you’d stop fussing,” the elder’s eyes didn’t leave Lana’s face as he was still assessing the woman. “Seldanna wants to bless the fruit for the offering, will you bring that inside.” Larz smiles in a crooked way to his grandfather while picking the box up again after mentioning, “I can’t have you two out there with this plague business.” After he disappears into the home Theoduin takes one step into Lana, “young lady. I don’t know what they are paying you, but please leave Larz alone. He’s a good one and doesn’t wish anyone harm… Here,” he pulls out a coin pouch, “whatever they are offering, I’ll double. Just leave out family alone…” He was almost pleading, judging by his demeanor, Larz’s old scars, the treatment she just witnessed - this family must have been through so much,

Lanara can’t help but grin as Larz speaks to his grandfather, and she could almost feel his love for the elders, as he was protecting them from the plague, while risking his own life. As he disappears into the house, she considers following him, though her attention is drawn once more to Theoduin. As the old man advances on her, she looks up at him, somewhat bewildered at the pleading look in his eyes. And when the coin is offered to her, she blinks, confused at first, and then her eyes well with tears. “I… I’m not a prostitute. Th-That one time I danced naughty was for a bachelor party… I admit, I’m a dance instructor, and a firm believer in karma, but I have no intentions of hurting Lard or anyone…” Her voice trails off, as a single tear trickles down her cheek. “I was burying my kitten. And Lard came along. I thought –he- was a spy! I just broke off my engagement to a pretty powerful man. And now –I- am being accused of being…A…A…” Lana clenches her jaw, as more tears slip onto her skin. She hadn’t come for gold. She came for answers. And she had them, along with a handful of insults, and a family that had suspicions of her behavior. That Larz was an odd one. She almost felt sorry for his Grandpa, and whatever they’d been through, but one thing was for certain. She didn’t belong here. “I don’t want your coin. I’ll go…” And with that, she turns on her heel and runs down the porch steps.

Largakh had come back out, but heard the tail end and he certainly didn’t think that was going to happen. Immediately the grandpa tried to clarify, “no prostitute. We’ve been baited before-” but it was too late. She was running off and Larz easily clears the porch steps by leaping off them, “Lana,” but she’s too far now. A shrug, maybe they will run into each other again and he can explain his pop didn’t mean anything by it because he’s just paranoid. Larz looks up at his pop and grins his crooked way again, “every time?” His grandpa shrugs, “someone has to look out for you too.”