84.1 - Paladin 101
The Starfall, somewhere over the central sea, the night before session 83.
It's late, and only the skeleton crew is up and about on the ship. There is a knock at the door of Linnet's cabin, and Isa's voice calls "Linnet?" with enough volume to be heard but not enough to be rude.
The doorknob rattles, hitches, and finally opens with a muted squeaking noise. Triscuit tumbles into a triumphant heap at Isa's feet. Linnet claps, flips him a piece of jerky, and waves Isa into the room.
"That may have been a poor idea in the long run, but it was worth it. What's up?" "Wanted to talk," Isa says. She holds up a silver flask, a glimpse of the Osler keys etched into the metal. "Brought drinks." "Well, don't stand on ceremony." Linnet pats the open half of her (rumpled, but still made) bed. "What's on your mind?" (Triscuit starts trying to steal Isa's socks through her boots. It doesn't work.) Isa tucks a knee under herself as she sits, leaving one boot on the floor for Triscuit to attack futilely. She takes the cap off the flask, and un-nests two small cups from it. "I've been thinking about the last few fights we've been in. Your brother's gang, and then down in the hold this afternoon." She wedges the empty cups between the fingers of her right hand, and uses her left to unscrew the flask one-handed. It's obviously practiced. "We've been unnecessarily busy, it's true. You've carried us through, as always." Linnet salutes with two fingers at her brow and accepts one of the small cups, wincing slightly at the smell of the contents.
"...and if this is about how I need to choose my friends more carefully, that is also very true." The liquor in the cups is dark brown and pungent, with mint and anise and a dozen other more subtle herbs buried in it. Good for the sinuses. Isa tosses hers back in a gulp, refills. "Not just me. I realized that you and I have the same job from different ends - keep everyone else standing. Problem is, if you go down there's a good chance our line folds. We don't have a lot of redundancy." "So you're looking to pick up a little White Magic as an oh-shit backup." Linnet nods. "Easy enough. There's nothing all that complex to what I do, and I promise not to faff about with all that elemental-voices crap. We'll just give you the practicals."
"It would probably have helped if we roped Hawk in on this conversation, but he's (a) asleep and (b) less than straightforward. Besides, he's probably buried most of his paladin training under several years of bardic nonsense." Isa nods. "Right. Think of it as emergency field medicine. There's no way I can keep up with you, but I can be there to pick you up." "It's going to get a little mystical woo, because this is emergency field medicine essentially drawing from your own aetheric reserves. But minimally woo," Linnet promises. "The protection spell part should be pretty darn easy for you; we just have to find a way to make the healing more natural. Bringing someone back from KO, we won't worry about yet; I only just got there myself, and frankly, if I'm at that point, you're all probably more screwed than I am. But you should be able to tease out a bit of a boost, and I promise it doesn't have to smell like baking spices. That's just a me thing."
Linnet talks in circles for a bit trying to explain spellcasting to someone who (as far as she knows) has never cast a spell before, but it essentially boils down to meditation, channeling your thoughts in an anti-exploding sort of direction, and sort of...plastering a bit of your aether over theirs? "Like a field bandage out of light" may not mean much to Isa, but that's the direction in which Linnet is shaping her casting gestures.
Making a wall of your aether turns out to be much easier than doling it out in small pieces to repair someone else's.
Eventually, they work around to starting with the visual of a shield - if just a buckler - and removing bits of the edge as healing spells. It's half magic, half headology. Isa listens with an unusual attentiveness; for a moment Linnet gets a glimpse of what she must have been like in school. Not as quick on the uptake as the top of the class, but stubbornly determined to get it. "Now, this isn't going to immediately wipe out all trace of injury; it'll knit you back together for the rest of the battle, but if you get smacked around pretty hard like Bast did in the hold, you're still going to need to sleep it off. But it'll hold the party pretty well while something's still coming at our heads. Ready to try it out?" Linnet fishes out her sword from under the bed. Isa tosses back her current cup. "Bring it on."
It's late, and only the skeleton crew is up and about on the ship. There is a knock at the door of Linnet's cabin, and Isa's voice calls "Linnet?" with enough volume to be heard but not enough to be rude.
The doorknob rattles, hitches, and finally opens with a muted squeaking noise. Triscuit tumbles into a triumphant heap at Isa's feet. Linnet claps, flips him a piece of jerky, and waves Isa into the room.
"That may have been a poor idea in the long run, but it was worth it. What's up?" "Wanted to talk," Isa says. She holds up a silver flask, a glimpse of the Osler keys etched into the metal. "Brought drinks." "Well, don't stand on ceremony." Linnet pats the open half of her (rumpled, but still made) bed. "What's on your mind?" (Triscuit starts trying to steal Isa's socks through her boots. It doesn't work.) Isa tucks a knee under herself as she sits, leaving one boot on the floor for Triscuit to attack futilely. She takes the cap off the flask, and un-nests two small cups from it. "I've been thinking about the last few fights we've been in. Your brother's gang, and then down in the hold this afternoon." She wedges the empty cups between the fingers of her right hand, and uses her left to unscrew the flask one-handed. It's obviously practiced. "We've been unnecessarily busy, it's true. You've carried us through, as always." Linnet salutes with two fingers at her brow and accepts one of the small cups, wincing slightly at the smell of the contents.
"...and if this is about how I need to choose my friends more carefully, that is also very true." The liquor in the cups is dark brown and pungent, with mint and anise and a dozen other more subtle herbs buried in it. Good for the sinuses. Isa tosses hers back in a gulp, refills. "Not just me. I realized that you and I have the same job from different ends - keep everyone else standing. Problem is, if you go down there's a good chance our line folds. We don't have a lot of redundancy." "So you're looking to pick up a little White Magic as an oh-shit backup." Linnet nods. "Easy enough. There's nothing all that complex to what I do, and I promise not to faff about with all that elemental-voices crap. We'll just give you the practicals."
"It would probably have helped if we roped Hawk in on this conversation, but he's (a) asleep and (b) less than straightforward. Besides, he's probably buried most of his paladin training under several years of bardic nonsense." Isa nods. "Right. Think of it as emergency field medicine. There's no way I can keep up with you, but I can be there to pick you up." "It's going to get a little mystical woo, because this is emergency field medicine essentially drawing from your own aetheric reserves. But minimally woo," Linnet promises. "The protection spell part should be pretty darn easy for you; we just have to find a way to make the healing more natural. Bringing someone back from KO, we won't worry about yet; I only just got there myself, and frankly, if I'm at that point, you're all probably more screwed than I am. But you should be able to tease out a bit of a boost, and I promise it doesn't have to smell like baking spices. That's just a me thing."
Linnet talks in circles for a bit trying to explain spellcasting to someone who (as far as she knows) has never cast a spell before, but it essentially boils down to meditation, channeling your thoughts in an anti-exploding sort of direction, and sort of...plastering a bit of your aether over theirs? "Like a field bandage out of light" may not mean much to Isa, but that's the direction in which Linnet is shaping her casting gestures.
Making a wall of your aether turns out to be much easier than doling it out in small pieces to repair someone else's.
Eventually, they work around to starting with the visual of a shield - if just a buckler - and removing bits of the edge as healing spells. It's half magic, half headology. Isa listens with an unusual attentiveness; for a moment Linnet gets a glimpse of what she must have been like in school. Not as quick on the uptake as the top of the class, but stubbornly determined to get it. "Now, this isn't going to immediately wipe out all trace of injury; it'll knit you back together for the rest of the battle, but if you get smacked around pretty hard like Bast did in the hold, you're still going to need to sleep it off. But it'll hold the party pretty well while something's still coming at our heads. Ready to try it out?" Linnet fishes out her sword from under the bed. Isa tosses back her current cup. "Bring it on."
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