RP:Yearning to Aid

Part of the The Prophet of Vakmatharas Arc

Synopsis: Zahrani crosses paths in Frostmaw with a veteran ranger named Linken, who once served in an official position in Larket. Upon hearing what has happened to the city in recent times, he offers to aid her in any upcoming endeavors for the people there.

Frostmaw Tavern

Zahrani || The snow falls heavily outside as the harsh Frostmaw winter sets in. The frost giants that call this place home are unfazed. Alas, the paladin Zahrani is not a frost giant. The woman sits by the massive fireplace in her more humanoid form, her elven ears tipped with black for, a black tail wrapped around her athletic form where she sits. A mug of warm tea sits next to her. Her cyan eyes, contrasting sharply with dark skin, gaze into the flames as she thaws out from her journey.

Linken :: The fire pit suddenly roars to life, stirred by the strong, howling wind that barrels though the entranceway, a funnel of cold and snow whirling around the figure that now stood in the door. Only a moment or two of observation was given before the chamber door closed behind him, his back pressing the cold wood as a sigh escaped beneath his shadowy hood in the form of a steamy cloud. Collecting himself, the elf lifted his gaze, cerulean hues briefly scanning the few patrons of the establishment within range of his height; She was not here, either. A shame, but it was to be expected. Another sigh escaped him, before finally he carried himself forward into the establishment proper, the collected snow slipping and falling from the shoulders and crown of his emerald cloak as he drew nearer and nearer the fire pit, ‘til the warm light illuminated his features. He was a pale skinned, handsome elf, seemingly young and obviously out of place. Could he possibly be another refugee from the forest?

Zahrani pulls her cloak around her when the wind rushes in, chill air carrying with it the faint scent of a wood elf. Her back turned to him, she listens carefully for Linken's approach towards the fireplace. From her seated position, she looks up at him with a warm smile, speaking in a smooth mid-tenor with a characteristic feline accent to it, "It would seem I am not the only one far from home today." The panther's duties bring her all over Lithrydel, but the Isran Collective, a feline colony in Cenril, is where she spent much of her early childhood. She takes a sip of her tea as she maintains her gaze upon the elf. Beneath her partially opened cloak is a set of simple garb; a sleeveless shirt, a utility belt, and winter leggings and boots. Rani pulls out a seat next to her, an unspoken invitation for the man to join her by the fire.

Linken , as he stared into the burning embers, had nearly fallen victim to his own thoughts when the feline addressed him, a soft blink swiftly bringing him back to reality as his gaze set upon her, her warm smile returned with one of his own. “...Yes, it would seem.” He watched as Zahrani drew forth a seat for him, the widening of his smile showing his appreciation of the gesture. Slowly, he made his way around the fire pit before coming to a halt at her side. “You are too kind.” However, some adjustments would need to be made before the elf could get comfortable. A pair of gloved hands slipped through and parted his cloak, revealing the wardrobe beneath as he lifted them both to slip the hood back from his crown, and what a wardrobe it was: His armor, some sort of mixture between leather and heavy steel plating, arranged in a fashion to allow mobility while still protecting all of his vitals, as well as an arsenal of knives and other assorted tools tucked into every crevasse available, and yet somehow the elf carried himself without making so much as an audible ‘clank’ or ‘chink.’ And yet, no part of his garment seemed suitable for such frigid weather. His features, however, showed no sign of him being affected by the cold, his cheeks and ears neither flushed nor numb. Long, pale golden locks of approximate waist-length pooled in the back of his hood, the occasional few strands escaping and cascading down his breastplate, which reflected the warm light as a dark orange against the blackened steel. Then, with a quick gyration of his shoulder, a broadsword slipped from beneath the backside of his cloak, swiftly caught with a single hand before it could fall past his waist. Slowly and tiredly, the elf finally began to lower himself onto the cushion, his legs folding into a cross pattern as his shoulders begin to slink, a sign of relaxation. The broadsword is placed upon the floor in front of him, the bright light of the fire giving way to the blades intricacy. It was clearly very old, almost archaic, but modifications have been made to it over years of wear and tear to ensure its durability. What an interesting tool, indeed...

Zahrani looks visibly impressed with the elf's gear and his ability to manage it. His visage is certainly nothing to scoff at either. ~That is a pretty man,~ she thinks to herself. The cat idly brushes a dreadlock of her hair behind one of her pointed ears. Watching him settle into the chair, the paladin introduces herself, "My name is Zahrani. I am a paladin of Cyris. What is your name?"

Linken 's hands had come to rest flat upon the table-that-isn't-a-floor when his host addressed him with an introduction, a handful of hair slipping free and falling into his lap as his head turned towards her with a bright smile. "A paladin? Truly a noble profession. Some of the best men and women I've come to know were paladins, and I am honored to now know another." As he spoke his hands lifted, the right one tugging at the gloved fingertips of the left before removing it entirely, reaching across with his bare hand offered in greeting. "Zahrani, it's truly a pleasure. I am Linken, former Commander of the Rangers of Larket."

Zahrani extends her own hand to shake Linken's. Her grip is strong, but warm. To the spiritually sensitive, one lot notice faint lines of amber light playing across her dark skin in fractal patterns. A very unusual cat, but not necessarily an unusual paladin. "A pleasure to meet you and well, Linken. I am sad to say that a shadow has fallen over Larket of late, as well as the rest of the land. The city is ruled by an angry despot, and there are witch hunts and inquisitions. People are afraid, and they cope with superstition and scapegoats."

Linken shook her hand firmly in return, though as he did something about her skin caught his attention; Prior to the last few years he may not have noticed, but due to his recent deep connection to Arkhen, the elf's eyes did catch traces of the unusual light flickering faintly across Zahrani's skin. ~How peculiar,~ he thought to himself, though no verbal or physical inquiry was given beyond the slight furrowing of his brow. "...Yes, it would seem," was his response to the state of Larket's political mess, ire clear in the tone of his voice as his bare hand retracted to scratch at the side of his temple, the other one falling into his lap. "'Tis partly the reason I chose to resign my post, though I must admit it was before things have fallen into such dismay... I've considered myself separated from them for so long that I am not too familiar with the current ruling body." His fingers begin to rise and fall rapping against the table's wooden surface in a light gallop as his gaze falls intently upon the blade before him. "...Regardless, I've always seemed to accomplish more good on my own than with the backing of a governing body, or military... Too many people unnecessarily put into harms way, if you ask me."

Zahrani listens intently to Linken's assessment of when he left Larket. There's a look of empathy in her cyan eyes, her face neutral as she glances the man's restless fingers, then back to him with a warm smile. "I think you and I might get along just fine, Linken." Ideologically, many in the order of Cyris were low-key anarchists. They were generally skeptical of any form of extreme hierarchy. They labored in cooperation and in service to those who are most marginalized in society. On that note, the paladin adds, "There is a Guild of Paladins that has can building up for a few months now; in case you were looking for allies or ways to help on your own."

Linken returned her smile with a lighthearted chuckle, offering a jestful response as he lifted an open hand to the air, breaking eye contact only to flag down one of the many servers passing by. "Considering neither of us have spontaneously stabbed or mauled the other, I'd say were already off to a fine start." As the giantess approached, leaning down to the elf to receive his order, his voice dropped to a whisper, as not to interrupt his new friend while she spoke, listening intently to her offer all the while. "Hmm..." As he considered the proposal, both hands fell to grip his left shin, lifting the appendage up and resting it flat across his thigh before both arms interwove across his chest. "...Given my situation, I'm not quite sure one such as I would qualify to be welcomed into a fold of Paladins." The elf chuckled at his words, the only one to know their true context, his posture seeming to straighten as the server neared their table with his beverage. "However, if your intentions are pure, and the will of the people is what you aim to up hold, and the innocent you protect, then I'd be honored to help in any way I could." A deep, content breath drew in the sweet scent of herbs and peach, followed by a grateful smile, and the exchanging of coin between hands. A polite "Thank you," was offered to the waitress, who went on her merry way before turning his attention back to the feline. "What sort of assistance is needed? Is there anything specific needing to be taken care of?"

Zahrani smiles up at the giantess who takes Linken's order, taking in the same aroma as she ponders his questions. "Well, I spoke to a dragon recently who offered to help rebuild homes and public places once things settle down. You could help with that. If you're in the mood for subterfuge or distractions, I'm looking at ways to evacuate people who wish to leave Larket. A cult of Vakmatharas has gained a foothold there, with the king's blessing. There are some who quietly wish for freedom elsewhere, but are unsure of how the king will react to a sudden exodus of citizens." Her guess: he probably wouldn't take such a thing very well, especially since he's tried to outlaw the worship of Cyris.

Linken pinched the handle of his teacup between two fingers, his offhand cupping the bottom as he raised it to his lips, though they did not touch; Zahrani's mention of rebuilding homes had caught his attention, and in the second-long pause before his sip, the elf sifted through a lifetime of memories in the back of his mind, hearkening back to the time of his youth, long past but never forgotten... When Linken was a carpenter. "...Rebuilding homes, you say?" Gently placing the teacup upon the table, his hands fell flat once more, and keen eyes would take note of his own hues, bouncing ever so slightly back and forth between his hands, and the blade before him. His hands... They were always meant to create, never to destroy. Oh, how things had taken such a drastic turn for him... It was then that the fingers of his right hand twitched, prompting a confused reaction from the elf on his features, though not one he would elaborate on at the exact moment, choosing to ball his fist, drawing it close to cup in his left hand. "...I would love nothing more than to help with their restoration. It would seem, though, that there are more immediate problems our attention could be drawn to. If there is any way I could assist in the evacuation of refugees, you needn't ask, only point me in the right direction."

Zahrani nods in understanding, watching the man's every move. He seems to have been through a lot on his life, though what exactly that was, she has no way of knowing. She takes a sip of her own tea, a combination of jasmine and green. "I still have some logistics to plan out. I still need an accurate headcount of who exactly wants to leave and how exactly we're going to get them out." The paladin wants to trust this elven male with every fiber of her being, but she knows he's a complete stranger, and Macon is not the type of King to just ignore perceived threats. "I'll be sure to let you know, but I feel I should: where do you see yourself being most helpful in an evaluation?"

Linken 's eyes fall shut, an understanding smile stretching to each corner of his face as he nods slowly in agreement. Her caution was well understood by the elf, his fingers interlocking as he rested his forearms upon the table, lurching forward ever slightly. Of all the things Linken would have expected upon entering this Tavern, an interview was quite low on the list. "...Due to previous...endeavors i have pursued thoughout my life, I am well versed in the arts of stealth, reconnaissance and espionage. I bring myself fully equipped for any and all situations I may find myself in," if his wardrobe was not already a dead giveaway, "and should things go awry, I am an excellent at quick decision making, and capable of readjusting to suit any situation and seizing opportunities as they present themselves. I am well versed with many types of weaponry, though I consider myself to be an expert in archery and swordplay." It was then that his eyes reopened, his lifted gaze full of honesty and determination. "...However, if you are asking me where I believe I could be most helpful, put me on the ground, with the evacuees. Should anything or anyone pose a threat to them, I will make sure that I stand between them and whatever aims to cause them harm, if nothing else, and they will not get past me. Should any harm come to an innocent however, I am capable of-" Linken stops himself briefly, taking caution with choosing his next words after clearing his throat. "...*ahem*.. I am capable of emergency medical attention, though not extensively." Not if he intended to remain of use, anyways.

Zahrani carefully listens to the man's self-evaluation of his capabilities. She could put two and two together quite well. Like most rangers, he's at peak performance when unnoticed, plus versatility when situations change. That would be useful, especially in an ambush or any reprisals brought down upon them by the King or the rising death cult in Larket. "I'm putting an escort team together with some people I trust. I think you'd work well with them, and you'd have flexibility in picking where you would be best suited during an evacuation. Some take point at the head of the group; others stay in the shadows or scout ahead." The main reason she doesn't go into detail is because there's no telling what this exodus would look like. It could be a small, unnoticeable trickle of families leaving over the course of days, or depending on how desperate things become, it could be one massive departure. She's hoping more for the former; more manageable and less risky.

Linken listened intently to her words, and though he had many questions, he knew most would have to wait, taking a backseat to higher priorities. "This is well and good, but before anything is set in stone, I must become well acquainted with your companions, especially those accompanying us. I recognize and appreciate the caution you've shown during this chance meeting, a caution that I share. I need to know I can trust all of you, as well as showing you can trust me. I'm sure you and I can both agree that while risks are a given, no unnecessary risks need be taken. I do not wish your blood, or the blood of your friends, on my hands due to a poor call." It was clear that caution was the primary concern of the elf, the rising tension in his posture leaving it apparent that preventing bloodshed, if possible, was at the forefront of his concerns. "...I've enough of that on my hands for a lifetime. When would you say is the soonest we could be introduced?"

Zahrani finishes her tea as she hears Linken's desire to meet with those he would likely accompany on an escort mission. "Of course. I will do my best to get us together before Yule's Eve. In the meantime, I must return to Larket and assess things." She had been away for quite some time. As she speaks, an aged human man with salt-and-pepper hair and a short trimmed beard walks up to her. His demeanor is warm, and his appearance is that of another paladin, clad in half-plate and half leather, a symbol of Cyris on his breastplate. Placing a hand on the feline's shoulder, he speaks in a low baritone, "Lass, I think it best if I go to Larket instead. You stand out, and the King knows your face." Closing her eyes and smiling sheepishly, Zahrani responds, "Just be careful, Baba." Turning to the elf, the aged man extends a hand, a twinkle of kindness and strength in his eyes, "Falion, paladin of Cyris. A pleasure, Linken." Linken 's hand had already quietly slipped to one of the daggers at his side, resting on its pommel the moment he heard the approaching footsteps with his twitching ears. As soon as he saw how the two addressed each other, however, he was quick to relax, having already risen to his feet to present himself proper before Falion's hand had even extended. "The pleasure is mine, sir." Linken met his hand with a firm shake and a bright smile. "I'd introduce myself, but it seems you've a keen ear yourself." The elf chuckled, his comment in regards to the Paladin having discerned his name from overhearing their conversation, with the rest of his statement directed to both of them. "That is good. Having trustworthy, observant friends watching your back is one of the few things I truly miss from serving with others." Zahrani grins at the interaction between Falion and Linken. The feline is the first to respond, "~Always keep a lookout~ is a lesson we learn from a young age in Cenril. I passed that lesson onto my foster father here." The old man glances at her with a wry grin, "We've been teaching and taking care of each other for about 21 years now. Speaking of which, your birthday's coming up soon." The dark-skinned woman rolls her eyes, "Well, if you wanna surprise me with something, that's up to you. You know I don't ask for gifts." Falion shrugs, before jabbing back playfully, "I'm sure the Collective will want to throw you a party. Matriarch Roahin only helped raise you from birth. No doubt, she'll want to spend the day with you." The old man then turns to Linken and bids him farewell, "Stay safe, new friend. The nights in Frostmaw are merciless." Rani and Falion had rented rooms at the Inn while they were here.

Linken dipped his head as Zahrani's companion bid his farewell, two fingers lifting to his brow as to send him off with a friendly salute. "You as well friend, though the cold doesn't seem to have much of an effect on me." A quiet laugh followed his words, though the others would soon enough come to find that it was no jest. "He seems like a good man," the elf continued as he lowered himself back into his seat with a quick grunt, though it would soon show that the change in their discussions atmosphere, as welcomed as it was, did little to alleviate Linken's concerns. "I must admit though, in regards to what we've been discussing, much of what you've told me disturbs me greatly.." The elf begins to sink back into his seat, both hands folding into his lap to conceal the minor tremble that seems to have set in his arm. "...I've been in seclusion for so long, I'd no idea the situation in Larket had become so....so..." He seemed almost at a loss for words, his discomfort causing him to readjust again, lurching forward with both elbows set on the table, and both hands pressed to his head. "...so abysmal. I cant help but feel if I held my office but a bit longer, perhaps I could have done something to..."He sighs, "I just don't know. How did this all even come to pass?"

Zahrani watches the man agonize over what he might have been able to do if he hadn't left Larket. The panther gently reaches out to wrap her hand around Linken's own, squeezing gently and going, "Dwelling on such things does no one any good. You are not a god; you can't be everywhere you are needed. What's important is; you are here...now." The panther inhales and exhales slowly, "This is a long story, but the best way I can summarize these witch hunts: a massive earthquake hit Larket awhile back. Mysteriously, many structures that had been owned by witches remained intact. The people and the king grew suspicious. Anti-witch sentiment and witch hunts have picked up. Many have already fled Larket and moved to other areas. But that's not all: because of a dark being known as Kahran, many in each of Hollow's cities are cursed. In Larket's case, children are cursed with rapid aging, including the king's son. In his desperation, he turned to an acolyte of Vakmatharas, who suggested turning the people to their cult in exchange for stopping the curse's effect. And, as far as we can tell, it works. But for many families in the hard city, shackling themselves to the God of Death doesn't sit well with them, and they're worried about what this cult will do next. So they've turned to us at the Chapel of Cyris, and while we can provide protection from this curse, King Macon has become ever more absolute in his monarchy." She pauses, waiting to see if the elf had any questions. A lot has happened, and she'd have trouble doing it all justice in one sitting.

Linken listened carefully to Zahrani's summary of events that have come to pass, his expression more and more overcome with dread and disgust with each word spoken, though it did not take long for him to put two and two together. "Vakmatharas..." The word tasted bitter when spoken, leaving a distasteful grimace on his features. "It is a name I've not heard before, but it would seem to be a new name for an old evil." To think these acolytes could commit such atrocities on people, -his- people. The ones he used to walk amongst, protect, rejoice and mourn with. They did not deserve this, and the cult's tactics seem far too familiar for him not to recognize. Though her comforting touch did not go unnoticed, his fist was withdrawn and landed on the table with a thud, though not one loud enough to draw attention or disturb the other patrons: Linken was doing his best to remain respectful in the presence of his new comrade. It was then his true age began to show through his visage, war-torn and tired, though not filled with anger, or despair, but a warning, and one that comes from experience. "...Zahrani, I have been subject to much darkness throughout my years. I've seen empires rise before my eyes, only to see them come crumbling down. Kings, their armies, the banners they fly, the causes they wage their wars for, they are all subject to change..." The elf began to lurch forward, hoping that his counsel, though their friendship new, would be taken to heart. "...but the tactics with which they wage their wars never change. And in what you have described to me of this cult, its undeniable to me that I see the underhanded use of a two-step process to complete domination of a region that has been used countless times throughout the ages." His balled fist rises from the table, held aloft next to his head before a single digit is extended. "Step one is to create a resource that the entire populace is dependent on," followed by his second finger, "and the second step is to ensure -you- are the only one in control of said resource. Now, the most prominent resource used in this tactic in the past was the creation of money, but the strategy can be applied to anything." The elf turns his fingers downward, tapping them firmly against the table's surface to add as much emphasis to every spoken word as he could. "But, in this instance, it would make perfect sense for them to use this 'cure' of theirs as the source of their manipulation. There can be no other source behind all of these disasters other than this cult; It makes perfect sense. They could have very well been the cause of these tremors, and the curses, using the widespread witch hunt to deflect all blame from them while they step in with the 'cure' to save everyone from certain doom, only at the cost of these people very souls by forcing their indoctrination. And when they have enough victims to fuel their army, that-" Linken slammed his hand flat against the table's surface, unintentionally starting a few other patrons seated nearby. "..is when they'll make their move. Mark my words, the monarch may be your biggest problem now, but I can assure you once this cult has forcibly indoctrinated enough people into their fold, the king will soon take a back seat to their wrath. Because whether or not you want to fight, if your very soul is on the line... you -will- fight."

Zahrani thinks on his words, taking in how passionate he is about what he's been through. "There is truth in what you say. In my experience, if I were to pin down the most likely source of Lithrydel's current woes, it would be Kahran. But I sense that other opportunists have...ridden upon his coattails, so to speak. Everyone on every side believes they are doing what they think is best. The situation has become complicated and messy as it has dragged on." She pauses for a moment, seeing the man's weariness at the revelation that history appears to be repeating itself. "Vakmatharas himself cares little. He is a God of Death, and whether someone dies a or a century from now means nothing to his immortal mind. It's the acolytes and opportunists that claim his favor that are the most immediate concern for Larket. We at the Chapel of Cyris value freedom and independence. If someone should choose to follow one God or another, that should be there choice to make, not under threat of death or loss of loved ones. Many in Larket see it as a hostage situation, and they refuse to be hostages." The cat pauses, looking at the time before saying, "But the hour is growing late tonight, and I must rest for tomorrow." The woman stands, gesturing to her door, "If you have need of a place to rest, you are welcome to shelter with me for the night."

Linken drew a deep breath, hoping that a moment of calm collection would bring his tension back down, but all this talk of the oppression his people have endured in his absence had stirred a fire in his gut that couldn't be smothered. Everything he had fought, bled and killed for was for nothing, and he would not stand for it. He will not let it end this way. He will do whatever it takes to fix this. The elf, eager to get things underway, rose to his feet, scooping his teacup up with him and downing the remainder of the beverage with a few short gulps before setting it back on the table and swiping his glove and broadsword with the same hand. "I will take you up on that. We have much to accomplish, and if my fears turn reality, we have much less time to do so than any of us realize." As he rounded the fire pit, his free hand flicked upward sharply, a single gold coin soaring over the blazing embers and landing in the cup with a sharp 'tink!' just as he pulled the entrance way open, the whirling wind and snow whipping his hair around his person like tendrils of light reaching out from the darkness, Staring his new friend in the eye with a look of pure, unwavering determination, bore from the love of his family and friends, and his need to protect them. "After you. We have much to do. And Zahrani..." As she would pass, his hand would catch her shoulder, offering as much reassurance to her as he could, is the same fashion she had for him. "We -will- free them."

Zahrani smiles warmly at Linken's gesture of reassurance, before saying, "Of course." She then waves as the elf goes out for air, before returning to her room.

The Next Morning:

Zahrani slowly begins to wake up from her position on the bed, the panther covered in warm furs to keep out the draft. Her cloak hangs on a hook by the door, and next to the bedside table is all of her gear: a simple set of hooded platemail armor, a well-crafted mace and crossbow, and a satchel of survival gear. The paladin inhales and exhales, taking in the scent of the room, the furs, her belongings, and a waft of stale drink that comes with the territory of sleeping in a tavern.

Linken had been awake for several hours at this point, and would be found seated in one of the rooms wooden chairs, which had been dragged to the far corner of the room near the window. This was to take advantage of better lighting, as he sat cross-legged, open journal upon his lap and quill in his hand, the only movements made being the occasional reaching to his side, wetting the tip of his quill every now and again in the inkwell that sat upon the windowsill, and even fewer still the gentle lifting of the notebook to his lips, followed by a few puffs of breath to quicken the setting of the ink. In regards to his personal belongings, everything he had brought on his journey remained on his person as it was the night before, leaving one to question whether or not he even bothered to change out of his armor to sleep at all; In all honesty, remaining fully garbed in the presence of others was more for the sake of his company's stomach that his own privacy. As Zahrani began to stir, however, his eyes briefly lifted from the page to check on her, but only for a moment, quickly returning to his silent scribbling and allowing her to fully wake before disturbing her slumber.

Zahrani 's eyes open, peaking over the furs at her company as the elf writes in his journal. Slowly rising to a sitting position, she stretches her arms, her curving slightly before her arms wrap around her chest to stretch her back muscles. A few of the scars on her torso could be seen through holes in her sleeping shirt. To Linken, the woman asks sleepily, "Did you sleep at all?"

Linken continued to scribble away, his eyes never leaving the page, though a wry grin began to creep across his angular features after her remark. "You know, in the past I have managed to push myself to an entire fortnight without any rest whatsoever, before hallucinations began to manifest..." Upon reaching over to drop the quill into the inkwell, the elf lifted the page to his face once more, this time drawing a deep breath, and blowing as much air across the wet page as his lungs could muster before gently folding the journal shut with both hands, placing it upon his lap with an amused smile. "...Though, to answer your question, yes, I'd say I slept fairly well." He didn't. One leg swung over the other, and with both feet now firmly planted the elf rose from his seat. turning to face the window and placing the journal upon the window sill before picking up the small piece of cork, intent on sealing the ink jar before they prepared to set off. "I trust you are well rested? We do have quite a trek ahe- oh." His words were interrupted by the gentle smack of leather binding against the wooden floorboards. It would seem his half-placement of his journal could have been a bit better, which now lies open flat upon the floor, leaving nothing to the imagination as to what his scribbles amounted to: a surprisingly detailed drawing, depicting the min hall of this grand, wintry Tavern, from the ornate chain-wrapped skull above to the raging fire below, tough if one were to inspect closer, they'd be surprised at the sheer amount of minute, yet accurate detail included, all the way down to Zahrani's presence, seated at her table with a cup of tea before her. A complete, accurate photographic depiction of the tavern and it's goings-on, as seen through Linken's eyes the first moment he stepped inside. Though, unless one were to discern such detail in a matter of seconds, artistic appreciation would have to wait, the silence broken by a flat, "Whoops," before the elf knelt down to retrieve the book.

Zahrani maintains quite the poker face in response to his affirmation that he had slept. As she brings herself to a standing position, bending to stretch her legs with impressive flexibility, she turns at the sound of leather bound writing hitting the floor. Her cyan eyes spot a bit of the detailed drawing the elf had created in his journal, before the man picks it up once more. Rising to her full height of 5'11", she offers a wry grin before sarcastically responding, "I've heard of sleepwalking and talking in one's sleep, but that's an impressive thing to do unconsciously." Her eyes briefly meet the ranger's before she turns her back to him and changes out of her sleeping garments. In the brief moment that her torso is fully exposed, Linken would see a myriad of scars across the paladin's toned back. Some look like they had been borne from whip or blade, another looks as though a large multijawed creature had tried, unsuccessfully, to take a bite out of her. The feline quickly slips the armor's underclothes on, pulling her hood up to get he dreadlocks out of the way and efficiently putting on the subsequent plating.

Linken withdrew a small, stained rag from his satchel, using it to wipe the small bit of ink from the tip of his quill, glancing over his shoulder at the feline with a hearty chuckle in response to her sarcastic remark. "This? In my sleep? Hah, no, no, I started on it only about an hour ago..." As she began to disrobe, however, he was quick to turn his back to her, offering the same amount of respect anyone deserved while they changed, though in the reflection of the window the elf would catch sight of her many scars, and his heart briefly sank to his stomach in empathy; Linken had no trouble imagining the pain and suffering Zahrani may have endured, both physically and psychologically, his own flesh existing in a similar state, albeit for much different reasons. However, in order to break the silence, and prevent it from becoming awkward, he continued to speak on the subject of his art while she prepared herself. "...I've always had an artistic flair, though it is not a talent I've had the pleasure of expressing in recent years. My children, however, have taken more of an interest in my travels as they grow, and while it's usually too dangerous to bring them along on all of my journeys.." He would pause, lifting the notebook over his shoulder with one hand and gently waving it to and fro. "...I've taken to bringing my journeys home to them to share, if you will." Children? The elf appeared no older than his early twenties. How old could he actually be?

Zahrani finishes getting ready, the feline holstering her mace at her utility belt and slinging her crossbow over her back. She turns to Linken as he explains his art and why he does it, smiling warmly at the thought of sharing stories with young ones. It reminds her of when the children of her colony would ask for stories. It doesn't faze her, the prospect of such a young-looking man having children of his own. He's an elf, after all. She thinks back to the times she had helped Gilwen cleanse an artifact that was important to the elves of Sage, and the fact that much of the corruption left by Tiphareth had still yet to be removed. Her smile fades slightly at the task that had not yet been finished, before turning to Linken and asking, "When was the last time you saw your children?"

Linken had just finished sorting whatever odds and ends he'd left sitting out back into his satchel, having just picked up his sword from its resting place against the wall when his new friend inquired after his family. "Oh, it has only been a few days. Do not worry, though," he continued as he slung his blade up and over his left shoulder, offering her a reassured smile, "They are well looked after. Actually, I was going to ask you..." He'd pause briefly, taking a few steps closer before continuing, a single brow lofting as he posed his question. "You would not mind if we stopped by my home so I may check on them, would you? I've made my home in Sage, so it is not far out of the way of our destination."

Zahrani approaches the door, opening it and responding, "Of course I would not mind. Lead on, friend." The grabs her cloak and steps out, prepared to take on the cold.

Linken smiled gratefully, giving the room one last look-over to ensure nothing was left behind before their departure. "Then let us be on our way. My steed is stabled nearby, so the journey should not be too difficult."

This is a Devout's Guild RP.