RP w/ the group - We're Going to Riverpuddle!

At some point after getting mauled by wargs, but before reaching the city of RiverPuddle--during a time when the caravan is stopped for an evening’s rest, Swindle waits for an opportune moment when the team is all together. He casually drapes himself over whatever suitable sitting surface is available to him--in a manner akin to a cat that has transitioned into its half-liquid state...perhaps somewhat more dramatically than he intended.
Casting a half-lidded gaze to scan over everyone and read the room, Swindle sighs. “Mmmm, is this pace of life new to anyone other than me? Is this side of the mountains usually so fraught with...general awfulness?” His eyes settle upon Maxwell. “If I weren’t trying to chase down a dear friend of mine, none of this would be a problem for me, and I wouldn’t be here to trouble any of you, but alas.”

Amity is sitting on the ground with a small cloth spread out in front of her, an array of crystals and tools arrayed upon it. She picks up one of them and turns it around, watching the light strike it’s facets.
 
“Everything’s sorta dangerous... no reason to worry about it. That’s why the menagerie has guards right? Course we went looking for a lot of the trouble you’re talking about...” She looks at Max too, and says to him , “But we can’t just leave people in danger, right?”
 
Rhogkun doesn't look up from his charcoal doodling as he assertively answers Amity. "No, we can't. If we can help, we should. If we can't, we should still try." He sighs, however, finally setting his implement down, how brow furrowed, his voice softening. "The frequency of these things, they do cause me worry though. But I too am not accustomed to this life. Aside from hunting jaunts, I rarely left my village before this."

"I'm finding it quite invigorating!" Variel chimes in, laying in one the last sunbeams of the dwindling daylight, eyes closed, aimlessly strumming her lute. "No idea as to the normallicy of it all, but it's been rather fun! Saving people... fighting nefarious beings of all sorts..." She stops strumming for a moment to find the bottle of wine she's been nursing, and raises it with mock triumph "Heroic deeds!" She lowers the bottle and carefully negotiates it so as to take a swig without spilling any OR needing to sit up. A motion she is evidently well practiced at.
 
She ponders for a moment before adding "Though... if I'm being honest, I really didn't expect to be bleeding out quite this often... I didn't expect the material plane to present as many legitimate dangers as it has... I fear I may need some better armour." She tuts and - mostly to herself - mutters "I should've brought one of my good sets instead of the basic options..."

Rhogkun turns to Amity. "You've traveled this way before, right Amity? Are there often occurances like this? Zombies and worm demons?"

Amity shrugs. “I mean.... if you only count the bad things that happened on the road, it’s only two. That’s not that bad. Three if you count Peony, I guess. And I mean sure, there’s always caravans that go out and never come back and no one knows why... not all the time, but you hear about em. It could be anything! That’s why you gotta be prepared!” She points one finger at Rhogkun, mock-shooting him.

Rhogkun mock deflects the shot dismissively. "I still find it worrying. Do you think Riverpuddle will be without problems? Could we get that lucky?" Rhogkun gives a wry grin, as if to say "fat chance".

Amity grins back. “Oh you can get into as much trouble as you want in Riverpuddle. The possibilities are endless.”

Variel leans backwards and looks upside down at the rest of the group. "Good trouble? Fun trouble? Do you have any reccomendations?"
 
“Mmm.... Well there’s all the markets, and tea shops with cushions, and of course there’s always parties somewhere. I’m sure they’ll let you in anywhere Variel, since you’re adjacent to royalty.”

Rhogkun makes a face at most of this, but mutters under his breath, "Mm, tea shop..."

Variel hops up, and holds the lute out in her left hand, the wine out in her right, in a grand celebration. "Then it's decided! We find the most grandiouse party we can and ensure our attendance!"
"I'm sure rich people have problems, same as all the poor folk we've been helping for free, we might be able to experience a touch of class and find some paying do-goodery work as well!"
She ponders for a moment "Truth be told, I do wonder what passes for classy in this realm... You mentioned hats were important, Amity?"

"Of course hats. And boats. Really rich people have like... six boats."
 
"Boats?" She frowns and recoils slightly "Aren't... aren't those fisherman's tools or commerce vessels? That sounds very working class..."

Rhogkun looks visibly uncomfortable. "I am not very good with water. I don't know if I like the idea of boats."
 
"Well you must avoid becoming rich, then!"
"It sounds as if it is important here..."

Amity looks back and forth between the two, "No. They're... they're..." she holds out her hands, as if gesturing will somehow show them what she's trying to say, "They're fancy boats. For having parties, on the bay. Or for sending expensive stuff really far sometimes, I guess."
She looks at Rhogkun, "And there's little boats for getting everywhere in the city!"

Variel squints and leans in "Fascinating...

Rhogkun looks anxious, and looks about the party. "Well, I hope the little boats can hold a lot of weight..."

"Can you not swim, Rhogkun? I'm sure there's no need to fear, I'm certain they accomodate all kinds of sized peoples!"
She tilts her head slightly, confused as to the unfamiliar sign of weakness from the giant

"I can swim!" Rhogkun exclaims maybe a little too quickly and too loudly. "I just do not feel comfortable in water. It doesn't feel... right to me."

Variel squints, smiles wryly, and leans in further "Fascinating..."

Rhogkun gives a small harumph.

Variel lets out a small, stifled giggle, then leans back to her seat and returns her attention to her instrument. "What prompts the curiosity, Swindle? Not feeling out of your depth, are you?"

Swindle lets out a soft snort, “I’ve been saying that I’m out of my depth since the winter wolf.” He casts a surprisingly warm(??) glance to Rhogkun, on some other train of thought, before deciding to stick to the current topic. “Honestly, I had expected to come across a few more...large cities than we have been thus far. What I am looking for will not likely be found in the countryside, ho ho ho.” He taps his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Amity, you mentioned rich people...Does RiverPuddle actually sport an upper class? By the name of it, I had assumed it was some backwater town like the ones we’ve passed through so far.”

Surprised by the lack of Variel / Swindle banter, Amity says, “Huh? Oh yeah. It’s a big merchant town. There’s lots of every kinda people. What are you looking for...?”

Perking up somewhat at the query, Swindle replies, “A big merchant town...mmm? Well...we’ll see, I suppose. I’m looking for the love of my life, dear Amity.” He puts on a wide grin. “Really though, he is the man who made me who I am now. And--about three years ago, I lost track of him. Which is unfortunate, really--because I have something that belongs to him. He’s a veritable robinhood, if you will… A steal from the rich to give to the poor sort, so you can understand why I’d expect him to stick to the cities, hmm~. Ah, I would stop at nothing to find him again.”

“Three years....? Did he just disappear like Rhogkun’s people did?”
 
Swindle says, "ah, no... nothing of that sort. We simply got separated by a stroke of poor luck and even worse communication. I have no doubts that he is looking for me, as well..!"

Variel: "Separated... Via the continent? I thought you never left your... Den?... Grove?" she clears her throat and slows down, in an attempt to keep any snark from her voice on a potentially sensitive subject... "How is it they got so far away if they knew where you'd be? Are you... certain they want to be found?" she makes the most sincere face she can manage while still looking at swindle. (26 deception for sincerity! If beaten - it's not that she's insincere, more she's trying to PROJECT that she's sincere, given all the prior piss taking, and doesn't want to be misunderstood. Guess something about a lost mentor/love/friend/something hits home for her!)

Swindle: "Oh, ho ho ho no, no. I left the tangle wood some time before meeting Alveres. That is...a whole other story! No, he found me naive and vulnerable, took me under his wing and showed me how to navigate society outside of forest-dwelling life, hn hn~!" Swindle lightly tilts his head from side to side thoughtfully, "Actually, Maxwell's cleric friend somewhat reminded me if him... I mean, completely different disposition, but he too was a cleric...following the word of an entity he called "The Traveller". Perhaps that had something to do with his penchant for wanderlust, as well, hmm..." casting a knowing eye to Variel, Swindle responds, "I am certain he's not...say...avoiding me. I would even like to believe he is searching for me, too... but perhaps not, after all this time. After all, it was I who strayed away from him, and not the other way around. A mistake I deeply regret, I have caused myself a great deal of trouble with it, ho, ho~"

(Sean says Maxwell is here and wanted to respond to Amity and Rhogkun's "we gotta help people" sentiment with much enthisiasm and agreement. And--he is trying to carve in wood--with his carpentry tools--the symbol on the door of maggot devil's crypt (aka "astral maggot cave")...to the uh...best of his memory lmao)

Variel softens at the confirmation, almost nodding, and as if her facial expression were punctuating a fresh scene, she immediately returned to a slightly wry smile and a perpetually mild level of sass. Back in character, so to speak.
 
"Ahh I see, I see. Hmmm... A Naive Swindle? I can't say I believe such a thing ever existed! This" Traveller" must be a powerful entity to turn you into... This... Merely by proxy... "she winks and continues playing, a bit more melodic now the story involves wanderlust and adventure.
 
"is there a story to be told about the circumstances of your meeting? Your adventures? separation? I can put it to music for the appropriate gravitas if you'd like..." her smile turns into a more playful one.
 
Maxwell's eyes narrow, "The Traveller? It is not a member of the sovergn host..."
(Tbf, I dont even know if Swindle would know much about the traveller either altho he SHOULD and could probably roll with adv, but I will wait for Jay's verdict on that before I assume annnything haha)

 
 
Swindle: "You can't imagine a naïve Swindle, because a naïve Swindle never existed, ho ho ho! I had a different name, then. Firbolg...our names our dependent on the company we keep and the roles we preform, and we never choose our own names. Ah--Alveres delighted in how happy the wealthy elite were to be swindled of their coin while I was present to assure them of their choices. And so, well...my name. Back then, I hadn't thought it to be such a terrible thing. After all, I grew up in a society where resources were evenly distributed amongst everyone, mmm. It only made sense that to me that the rich would be eager to part with their excess to the benefit of those without..!" He sighs, "Genuinely, greed is a relatively new concept to me, truly, it is! Alveres and I lived an...hmmm...shall we say 'modest' lifestyle...he greatly preferred the down to earth lifestyle of the working class and lower. But, in order to bring some wealth and resource down to them, we also had to dress and act the part of the ambitious aristocrat, and so we did!"

Variel: "I'm afraid I'm beginning to sound like a single song minstrel, but... That is most fascinating... How did you determine you were due for a re-naming? Are there requirements? Or merely if intentions align?"
 
She pauses for a moment, registering the rest of his story. A disapproving frown crosses her face as she tries to process it. "So you... were the innocent party in large scale scamming? To lend it legitimacy? Amazing... this must have been a fair while ago... I suppose Greed is mostly just selfishness applied to resources, and if you've never known resources to be anything other than equal, that WOULD make sense..." She looks back to him with an aside "I'm only saying, because honestly you CAN be rather selfish, so greed being so intrinsically linked yet alien to you is a LITTLE hard to believe at first..." then returns to her pondering "But... No that makes sense."
 
She frowns more before further pursuing the point "Were the rich that you stole from... bad? Why weren't they helping the poor? Were the poor unhappy, or were they just greedy themselves, lusting after what the rich had - I'm assuming - earned?"

Swindle: "We have no say in our names nor when they are due. It's...you could call it an organic process. A name that sticks will simply do just that. Otherwise, it is hardly a name at all, mmm?"
 
Swindle swats her concern about the alignment of an entire social class out of the air with a lazy wave of his hand, "Oh goodness, no. The...lawfulness of Alveres' schemes were dubious at best, ho ho ho. It was ah, something about a charity... and the folks who donated to it always seemed to have a bounce to their step, which I now understand to be the wafting joy of moral superiority that they have explicitly, literally bought into. Alveres always explained it as such, but it took me some time to understand just...what he meant. The wealthy elite, aristocracy in this realm, dear Variel, are an exceptionally lazy sort, most having been born into their money and priviledge, rather than having worked for it... Paying a pittance of coin for the chance to feel like they have contributed to something meaningful is...well...quite literally the least they could do, ho ho ho." He holds up a finger. "Ah, but!! The rich--being quite removed from the reality of the common folk--having never walked in those shoes--tend to hold this belief among themselves that the poor are poor solely because they are lazy or apathetic...the rich don't find it very fashionable to give explicitly to the poor...based on this unfortunate misconception, hmmm..."
 
Turning up his palms, Swindle concludes, "at least, this was Alveres' justification for setting up somewhat...deceptively named charities...specially designed to appeal to the upper class's very conditional generousity. They don't miss the money, it is hardly a blip in their books...but for the working class, it apparently meant a great deal to them, ho ho ho." He thinks about it for a moment and shrugs. "It's all a bit too elaborate of a set-up for my tastes. But, I wouldn't doubt Alveres' intentions for a second. He is, what I would describe as being, a pretty decent person, ho ho! Interpret that as you will, I suppose." With a glint in his eye, he adds, "as I said, it's been three years since I last saw him, and we'd travelled together for longer than that. I guess you can say that I have changed a bit since then, yes."

She leans closer still "so... Is it a Firbolg thing? A tribal thing? If we traveled together long enough and decided to call you... I don't know... Stoner... Healbag? Would that simply BE your name? What magics decide it as your true name verses a nickname?" she thinks for a moment about her own rediculous identifiers"... Or a title, even?"
 
She is clearly not convinced,and leans back, shaking her head, lips pursed. "This will require investigation upon our arrival to River Puddle... I do not approve of these... Methods... of wealth redistribution your friend concocted, but if the rich are not taking care of their workers then they must be set right! It is the duty of those with power to look after those with none!... to a reasonable extent. That's why they receive the title of nobility! Because they must be noble!" she pauses, realising how obvious and naive this must sound to the natives of the plane and sits back down, slouching over her lute with as much pride as can be mustered, muttering to herself sulkily -" my lady would never allow such things in the realm of summer..."

Swindle frowns. "I don't have to like a name for a name to become my name. Such is the case for Swindle, these days. I admit I love the way it rolls of the tongue, but the assumptions it inspires in complete strangers is more than a little discouraging, ho, ho." He casts a hard stare over at Rhogkun before continuing to answer Variel's queries. "Hn, hn, maybe firbolg culture and the culture of your court have more in common than we both expected..! Here, a nobel title is commonly passed down through generations. While the first recipiant of the nobility may have been all and truly a 'salt of the earth' philanthropist, their children are rarely ever so. Growing up in the lap of luxury tends to cause spoiling, it seems. I mean, just look at Piony. Nobility or not she is, at the very least, an inheritor. We all got an good eyeful of how graciously she employed her power to eh...'distribute the wealth', mmm?" And, due to a sheer scrap of curiousity, Swindle asks, "What would your lady do with someone like that?"

"Fascina- Huhm. Most interesting. I had no idea the power of a name ran so deeply within your culture. I will of course - joking aside - be most careful not to invoke something by accident." She nods respectfully. More respect given to the fact that it is the way of things rather than to Swindle himself, but still. It's something.
 
"But surely these people TRAIN their children? Or their wards? Even we of born nobility in the courts must prove ourselves exceptional before we are allowed any modicum of power or... respect is the wrong word... dedication? Allegiance? I proved myself in... certain areas, not dreaming to ever reach as high as I did, but my closest and truest friend happened to be deemed worthy of the next leadership role, and appointed me her second because I excel in areas opposite to her. Those who show no interest or aptitude are left to their inheritance certainly, but they are not trusted with leadership until they prove themselves worthy. And in the fey court there are more intangible currencies worth FAR more than gold."
 
At the mention of what The Lady of Summer would do with Piony, Variel scoffs heartily, almost choking. "Why she'd never have to deal with someone as mundane as Piony Oakweed... If all went well, the situation would not arise for her to be a problem. She would not be deemed worthy of a great deal of power, and thus would not be allowed to exert it over anyone. She'd be left mostly to her own devices, but she'd never be allowed to own people, or charge money for access to a holy site... Indeed, maintaining it would likely be her ONLY duty!" she looks quite prideful in herself and her Lady's political system. "It's a tenuous balance, and one we constantly must strive to upkeep, but the power dynamic in the Summer court rewards people based on merit. The working class are often favoured guests among the highest nobility - for they do the manual labour, produce the goods, etcetera. We keep them safe and happy. Those who do not wish to contribute are accepted, but never... revered..." She pauses, and considers for a moment, briefly homesick. "And sad to say, her punishment if she HAD managed would likely have been less... Probably apprenticed to someone, or time in the army or something..." She waves her hand dismissively and is most definitely elsewhere for a moment.

Swindle places his chin into the palms of his hands while he listens to Variel get lost in memories of him, a smile across his face that might be difficult to read as anything other than smug or snide...because it's Swindle. But none of that potential for snide smugness makes its way into his tone of voice when he speaks. "I think our cultures almost mirror one another. Yours sounds like a splendidly luxurious world held aloft by the wealth provided by the realm itself. How very fortunate that the laws of its land fairly rule..! On the other hand, my folk are, strive to be, and will always remain as a culture of work, taking only what is needed and maintaining the very dirt from which our sustenance grows. I think, though--that difference may solely be a product of our respective environments. The feywilds sounds like a veritable wonderland, an environment more rich than the creatures that inhabit it. Here, it is quite the opposite, ho, ho, ho. And so, in the mortal realm, money can buy most anything...Even titles, favors, accolades, and pardons for the most grievous of crimes. It is simple how things are. Because wealth and riches can be hard come by for those who were not born into it. The land itself does not produce it...not quickly enough for the mmm ambitious nature of man."
Chin still in his hands, his eyes narrow like that of a pleased cat. "Your lady, your best friend... You two grew up together? Er...do Eladrin 'grow up'? She must miss you as tremendously as you miss her, surely?"

She returns, not bothering to hide her daydream from the group. "Mmm... Mirror, perhaps. I wonder if it isn't all part of the same symbiotic circle? The Feywild is a reflection of what occurs in the material plane... your folks maintain the natural energy... we thrive... as a result of our not necessARILY deific nature, borderline at least, we produce power which can be manipulated by those so attuned back in the Material plane... We could very well unwittingly be a part of the same ecosystem!"
 
She returns to her matter of fact kind of expositioning. "Of course that's just how Summer works right now, under My Lady. Previous seasons haven't worked the same, and the other seasons don't NECESSARILY share our way of thinking. We're relied on for passion, and my lady believed that we could step away from the more... hmm... aggressive? Forms? Truly, in previous seasons, we could be most domineering and war focused. Or so the historians say... I personally prefer our new methods, and that is why... things are as they are."
"Mmm, we grow up. Some of us more than once. Time is variable back home, and generally suits our need. We are born useless babies, as are most things, and grow to adulthood, but adulthood for some is staying physically 100 forever, while some can appear..." She pauses and looks at Rhogkun, trying to gauge linear age progression at a glance "Uhh... Middle aged? I don't know the terminology, apologies. Either way, I am but ten years My Lady's junior, but she appears as youthful and radiant as the moment she came of age... Not once has she wavered. While due to the nature of my... life I have lived all the way through to my elder years, and back again times beyond counting." She finishes boasting about her friend, and once again grows a tad melancholy. "I would say "I hope she does" but I would not wish any such ill upon her. I chose exile to this realm as punishment partially because I believed it would be far less time for her than it would me, so she needn't... I mean I shouldn't be so vain as to assume she'd SUFFER without me, but... you know. This way she can continue doing good, and as far as she's concerned I will be back in but a few weeks or months." She looks as though she's about to play something, but as soon as her fingers touch the fretboard, she retracts them, and smiles to herself, shaking her head.
 
Swindle: "Hmm...so say you found a suitable gift to make amends with... Such as, say... An exotic spice-producing plant, ho, ho, ho! How long would it take to find your way back to the fey wilds?"
 
Variel: "mmm well... either I - as part of the exile - manage to secure passage back of my own accord? I'd only need be here a year? Five years? If I can't find a suitable way back myself, it will depend on the perceived appropriateness of the gifts I secure. I am paying for a taken life, so could be a couple of centuries if they really stretch things out..."

Swindle: "Hm... Not to poke a wound, but--your lady, did she at all try to stop you? Life and time in the feywilds sounds a little bendy, the guy who perished, will he not just be reborn again? Or is this not how that works? The idea of death being a somewhat...impermanent thing is intriguing to me. I was once told that, when you die--you take nothing with you. The only thing that can truly remain yours is, more or less, the legacy you imprint upon the living via your deeds and meaningful relationship, and so forth. But, as you've said, you've been through countless lives, and through them all, you've held onto enough things that you and your lady were able to remain friends through it all."

She gets quite heated at the initial questioning, as if it were quite rediculous "I wouldn't have had it if she did, and neither would her other advisors! It was my job, and pleasure - anything to ensure she remains in power." she nods most definitively. "but no, she objected emotionally, of course to my taking the whole punishment, but she understood why it must happen. The fellow we- I killed... I cannot say! It was not a controlled transition, and he was not in his home plane... He may have been lucky enough to rejoin his own internal cycle, perhaps even with memories intact... Or he could have been reincarnated somewhere else, as someone or something else... or he may simply be energy in the cycle, for now." she looks to Swindle" our physical forms are tied to the soul, and its purpose, so age in the feywild can be variable. But if uncontrolled... " she shrugs" who knows? "

Swindle's brow furrows slightly and his gaze drifts towards some lower corner of the room. "Interesting concept..." He clasps his hands together with an accommodating grin. "Say, if I were still around when it's time to find home again, perhaps I could lend a hand..! After all, I've got a finger in the feywilds, myself and my entire, mmm...field of study revolves around getting more and more of a foot into that door, so to speak, ho ho ho. Perhaps by then, between the two of us, it'll be a simple walk in the park." He offers a knowing wink that nothing can ever be so cut and dry, but one can certainly dream heh
 
She snorts briefly, entirely too proud of herself. "Yes, I'm sure your fingering could prove most useful in the long run." She looks around briefly for acknowledgement, but realises it might not be the right crowd, and instead clears her throat. "But yes, I do appreciate the offer. My thanks." She nods. "And of course until such a time as I require such help, I am happy to assist you..." she looks around and gestures to the rest of the group "... ALL of you, in whatever noble quests you might deem worthy of our attention." She bows slightly, unable to NOT add some small flourish to the moment.

(SWINDLE BITES BACK THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE RETORT EVER AND AS HE DOES, THERE IS A MICROSECOND OF PHSYCAL PAIN IN HIS EXPRESSION. Coughs.)