Session 48 - The Rensa Little High Here

The Starfall has carried its crew and cargo to Cardia, and found things are not exactly as their native officer, Isaline Osler, left them. The Highwind Research Facility, run by Isa’s uncles, has been claimed by the Albarea family through underhanded means, with Nils Osler under close guard by Lara Albarea. Isa’s identity being kept secret let the Starfall leave without any issue, though Albarea made sure to flex as much power and control as she could on their way out.
From there, the airship made a detour to the Argentum Wildlife Refuge, one of Cardia’s only government-protected low-lying parks, to deliver into their possession a full cargo of couerl cats and kittens, save one Triscuit, who was last seen attempting to pounce Bast’s pompom from atop a shelf.
The Starfall continued north, into the winds of the winter that never loosens its grip on Cardia. The village of Uhja lies within Ondore land, and through conventional means it is only accessible via a three-day chocobo ride from the closest train station. The Starfall cuts that travel down to a fraction of the usual time, though that does have its own problems, as our party is about to discover…
**
“So I can drop you off,” Marina says from behind the controls of the massive airship, “but that’s as good as you’re going to get, because no one built a full aerodrome for this podunk village in the middle of nowhere, and I can’t find anywhere that I trust we’ll sit without sliding off into the side of another mountain. Ever rappelled before?”
"Intentionally, no, but isn't it mostly a matter of making sure your harness works, then grabbing the rope and missing?" Linnet abruptly stops being so carefree about gravity when she realizes why the team is in Uhja. "...I'm going to get myself splatted one of these days, and you all will be totally justified in laughing."
Marina shrugs the shrug of one who is justified in every action she takes, no matter what the captain or anyone else says.
Orrey thinks it over. “Kind of?”
"Do we have a rope ladder?" Linnet asks.
"Your quartermaster was running through the inventory after our third loop around the mountain. He'll know," Marina says, focusing on the shifting winds.
"Use the cargo lift," Isa says, entering the bridge late. She's been a bit broody since leaving Highwind, and hasn't been seen at all today until now. Sometime since last night, she accosted one of the crew for hair dye; her hair is now a warm brown, coiled and pinned into two tight buns at the nape of her neck. "Better a rough ride than a broken leg."
Marina quirks her chin to the side, and then nods. "Meracydia?"
"A5 on our list," the navigator replies from her station. "There should be enough room for the lift to reach the ground between the trees."
Beneath everyone's feet, the Starfall banks to port, returning to an earlier location.
Bast looks over at Orrey and Linnet, after yet another glnce at Isa's new look. "Cargo lift makes sense, yeah."
Linnet has taken up pacing in one corner and muttering to herself. "Damn it all, airhead, you get sucked into a book for an hour and you think you can fly again, complacent little breezebrain, you're going to lose your grip and splat like a bug and then who'll keep your friends' innards in the next time they fight a giant couerl thing..."
Celeste looks up to exchange a worried glance with Marina, or at least she would if Marina looked like she cared. She returns to her charts a moment later.
Yves is ready to exchange that glance with Celeste, if she needs a worried look trading partner.
Celeste would never forget Yves, and glances are exchanged and marked on the map of internal anxieties.
(Linnet may have forgotten the ship has a cargo lift. It's a big picture thing and the little picture is crowded enough today.)
“Will the lift work for getting back up to the ship as well?” Orrey asks, thinking ahead.
"It'd be weird if a cargo lift only worked in one direction, Orrey." Isa says completely seriously.
"And if it is that weird, there's always jumping," Yves suggests.
The Starfall hovers in place, Jasper and Shula taking up position to oversee the lift's operation, Bjrn and a team of moogles working the equipment to ready the lowering, Apoc's voice crackling through the loudspeaker to report on angles and winds, helpfully adding "there's a lot of snow so if things go completely off-script you'll have a soft landing."
“Too bad we don’t have a tiny airship we could land on more difficult spots like this.” Orrey shrugs, and steps to the edge of the lift to look down as they’re lowered.
Isa clips a small leather case to her belt before climbing onto the lift. "Remember," she says to Jasper, "Green flare means we're ready to go, red flare means we're going to need help getting out."
The ground is further away than is comfortable, really, what with the tops of very tall trees visible, dusted with snow.
"We'll have a ground team prepared, our finest warriors ready to run to your aid." Jasper pauses. "Mostly they'll deliver potions and distractions, to be perfectly honest."
"Fireball means probably don't come down there yet, lightning bolt means definitely don't come down there yet because Yves got busy," Linnet says.
Bast makes some last-minute adjustments to Isa's gauntlet and seems satisfied with the result, handing it back to her with a nod and strapping on his crossbow before climbing in.
Linnet shakes herself out of pacing and muttering and joins her friends in the lift, clinging to the side much harder than usual, staring at the distant snow and biting her lip almost through.
Isa nods her thanks to Bast, hanging the gauntlet at her hip before bracing against the lift's guide rope. "I have no idea where Ondore stands regarding my family," she informs the group. "They're unlikely to have a presence here anyway, but it is their land. Isa's a common enough name but it'd be better to keep my last name off our lips while we're here." She does not specify if "here" means "Uhja" or "Cardia"
“What last name should we use for you, then?” Orrey asks.
"How about we let you handle introducing yourself when we get there, so we give you maximum time to rehearse." Linnet winks at Jasper.
"Isa Snow, international woman of mystery?" Yves says hopefully.
"Hold on," Jasper says, and then signals to Bjrn.
The ship shudders as the wind whips through, the drag from the open cargo hold pushing the ship maybe three feet back, but three feet is a lot when one is holding onto a cargo lift designed for large and heavy boxes (of sometimes cats), and the cargo platform tilts a dozen degrees or so. Marina levels the ship back out, and the party resumes their descent through the bitterly cold open air to the snowy forest below.
"It's about an hour's walk west!" Jasper shouts over the wind as the metal creaks.
Orrey breathes in sharply and then grins as it levels out.
"Let's stick with Altermatt," Isa suggests. "If it comes up."
Bast breathes out slowly, watching mist form in the air in front of him and almost immediately get whipped away by the fierce wind.
Eight minutes that feel like twenty minutes later, the bottom of the cargo lift crunches into the snow, Bast's gesture up to the ship stopping the descent immediately. The party disembarks, and the lift begins retracting, leaving the party on the ground, looking at civilization prepare to leave them here.
Isa takes a few huge breaths of the forest air. And while "happy" is probably not a valid label to apply, you could probably stretch "pleased" around her expression if you tried. "Right. Let's get hiking."
Orrey checks his coat and hat and gloves to make sure everything is ready, and walks around, listening to the sound of his boots on the snow as he takes in the surroundings.
Linnet does not own hiking boots, and the pair she borrowed from Rahel are extremely heavy and clumsy. To top this off, she's never sunk into snow before. If looks could kill, most of the trees within sight would be keeling over.
Bast, dressed lighter than the rest of the party over his fur, bends down to scoop up a handful of snow - then throws it off to the side, watching how it scatters, before turning to Isa. "Lead on."
The Cardian wilderness is frozen and forbidding, full of bitter winds and ominous silences. The snow is fresh, bright under clear skies, and it is rare for the path to be level for more than a few steps. No wagons come through here.
“Isa, have you hunted in places like this before? Do Cardian nobles hunt?” Orrey asks, curious.
(Linnet is trudging along behind Bast with a scarf wrapped around her entire head, leaving only her eyes free and muting all attempts at conversation.)
Isa takes the lead, and...well, tromps. Big steps that leave a packed-down path behind her. Every so often she takes a detour from the straight path, seeing something under the snow that would be unwise to step in. "Some do. I'm not great with a bow, though. When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time at the chalet, and we had a lot of woods there."
Yves has found that big floppy black mage hat somewhere, and tucked his ears inside it for warmth.
“What’s a chalet?” Orrey asks, huffing a bit as the going is not easy through the snow.
A gray fox runs over the snow, stopping to peer through the trees at the party, then prancing away after they fail to provide the requisite amusement.
"Your mountain house. Bigger than your townhouse, about the same size as your manor. Smaller than your county seat."
“And you’re really good with a spear, don’t you hunt with a spear sometimes?” Orrey continues the interrogation.
"You hunt boar with the spear. They're down in the lower forests. More oak than pine." Isa's replies come in rhythm with her steps, some breathing pattern taught for endurance.
After a few minutes of watching his feet and occasionally shaking off snow, Bast seems to pick up the habit of stepping into the footprints left by Isa and Orrey ahead of him and has more attention to spare for the woods around them. The fox gets the same silent look as it gives to the party in return.
“Speaking of spears, I’m surprised you didn’t bring yours with you.” Orrey says as he feels a splat of snow falling from a branch overhead hit him on the top of his hat.
The stumbling is still a factor, but at least the scarf-wrapped head is turning to track particularly beautiful trees and snowdrifts. A muffled might be heard as the fox bounds away.
"Disguise, remember? Anyone who saw it would know who I was," Isa says. 
“Oh. I didn’t realize it was a special spear. Does it have a name?” Orrey asks, hoping it does.
The shadows lengthen overhead as the day advances, Isa making good time through the snow, especially accounting for assisting the others in her own way. Up ahead, a bit of smoke -- the friendly, welcoming kind of smoke, not the entirely-more-interesting dangerous smoke -- can be seen, marking the village's location.
"It does," Isa says, without elaboration. She then points out the smoke. "Uhja."
“Think they get a lot of strangers walking up to their village?” Orrey is easily distracted by the approach.
The snow dropping on Orrey's head gets a curious look that turns thoughtful. Bast pulls on a small branch in passing, watching how it dumps its cap of fresh snow - then makes a snowball and lobs it at another, to much the same effect.
A stone wall is coming into view now, capped with snow, two lanterns burning on either side of the entrance, thick wooden gates open, and from the snow built up on either side of the doors, they do not often close.
Orrey watches Bast and leans over to make his own snowball and tosses it gently in Yves’s general direction.
Yves attempts to catch the snowball, and ends up with damp hands. "...hm."
Linnet briefly contemplates casting Blizzard on the blizzard, for the sake of science, but refrains.
Isa turns at the sound of snowballs. "Alright, you boys have fun, we're going to go look for a hot drink."
"Wait! No! I want to be on Team Hot Drink!" Yves says.
“I wonder if the snow is sticky enough to make a snowperson.” Orrey tests another snowball. “More important things to do, though.” Orrey follows Isa, taking in the village as they approach.
A figure appears at the entrance of the village, tall and wrapped in a thick wool coat and scarf. They carry a spear, though from how it digs into the snow it might be more for support than for defense. "Travelers!" a woman's deep voice calls out. "Did you walk here?"
Bast surreptitiously drops the snowball he was preparing for Yves, and turns towards the questioner.
Linnet trips over her damn boots again and catches herself on the stone wall near the gate. The scarf is tight enough that her swearing is muffled, but she manages to wave awkwardly at the figure.
“We came most of the way on the ship, so we did see it. And ride in it.” Orrey says.
"Thought it'd be rude to land in town," Isa offers by way of explanation. "This is Uhja?"
“We’re here checking in on a friend of ours. Ryna Jidoor. She was in a bit of trouble when we last met her.” Orrey attempts to be as truthful as possible while leaving out the significant details.
Linnet untangles enough of the scarf from her head to reply, "Didn't plan for them, no. My goodness, this place is beautiful."
Isa looks at the others, "Do we want to go warm up at the inn and then send word?"
"Best-kept secret in the country," she says with a touch of bitterness. "Elma Fiorung. Middle, looking at the tree. Keep warm," she says, walking toward a small house that matches that description.
"Warm is good. Warm and out of these stupid boots would be even better." The scarf appears to have frozen to some of Linnet's braid, so her attempts to disentangle herself are not going smoothly.
Bast gives Isa an interrogative glance as Elma heads home.
Isa shrugs a bit. "Don't recognize the family. It's a veteran's spear though. Let's get a drink."
“Warm would definitely be good.” Orrey agrees.
"Sounds good to me," Bast says.
"As I said, I'm on team Hot Drinks," Yves reminded anyone who was listening.
The Ondore Family Heritage Inn, as the sign outside so helpfully established, is a beautiful building that is also very large, with floors of imported wood covered in lush imported rugs, deep green walls decorated with imported art, bannisters of shining imported copper, dangling pots of imported vine, and a very wide selection of imported wine.
The host, a human man with dark skin, tightly braided hair, and a thin jawline beard introduced himself as Varen Dreichels, born and raised here in Uhja, and bade all welcome to the Ondore Family Heritage Inn, the pride and joy of the Ondore Family, soon to be famous for its luxurious hot springs, rooms available for only 1150 gil a night should you wish to stay.
Varen beckoned for everyone to get in out of the bitter cold and set up around the fire in the most comfortable (imported) chairs, and personally delivered the drinks ten minutes later, jolting an unsuspected Linnet who did not hear him roll up in his wheelchair, balancing a tray of five drinks in one hand while managing both wheels with the other. He then slid back away, as silently as he approached, leaving the party to discuss things in relative privacy.
"Okay, seriously, someone help me with this stupid scarf? I can't even see where it's caught anymore," Linnet says.
Isa keeps her hands wrapped around a pottery cup full of hot spiced wine, and asks "So, does one of us go surprise Natron at his house, or do we look for a local scamp who wants to make a quick gil by carrying a message?"
Linnet has managed to wrench off Rahel's boots, but is still tangled in her scarf. She is very obviously not an ice sylph.
“I vote scamp. Scamps are delightful. And there is a good likelihood of snowball fights and snowpeople with scamps.” Orrey says.
"I'll go myself, as long as I can borrow someone else's shoes to do so," Linnet says.
“Though they may charge more than just one Gil, considering the price of the rooms here.” Orrey adds.
"I mean, I do feel like I should go myself, being the whole reason we're here. Anyone who wants to is welcome to come along. I just need a little bit of time to dry off," Linnet says. "And a brush. Or possibly several brushes."
Yves attempts to help Linnet with the scarf, now that he's freed his ears from the hat. "I'm surprised there are any scamps not yet frozen in weather like this."
Orrey says quietly, “I’ll go with if you’re dead set on it. I need to know that we managed to get them what they needed out of the book.”
"I didn't want us all to go barging into his parlor, just to let them know we're here." Isa points out.
"Exactly. How about just me, or me and Orrey, and then we'll get us all together back here in the warm," Linnet says. "Preferably with Ms. Jidoor, if she's around. Not sure why they assumed we're friends of Natron if hers is the name we gave, but we'll figure it out." 
"Because that's who she was coming here to save, and I assume he's the citizen, not her? Maybe she's been here for a while. Maybe they've gotten very close," Isa says. "Speaking of, did you reach your Astrologian friend?" Isa could well be asking about the weather.
"Maybe our reputation for being helpful, good people precedes us," Yves says, optimistically.
Bast smiles towards his mug, and seems perfectly content to stay here and warm his hands on it for a while.
"Sent her a message, anyway. Next bit is up to her. She's pretty good about that." Linnet scrounges in her back and digs up a pair of sturdy if not particularly snow-worthy flats. "Right. I'm heading out, anyone else is welcome to my drink. If I'm not back in four hours, assume I froze somewhere and send a scamp after me."
Bast smiles towards his mug, and seems perfectly content to stay here and warm his hands on it for a while.
"Sent her a message, anyway. Next bit is up to her. She's pretty good about that." Linnet scrounges in her back and digs up a pair of sturdy if not particularly snow-worthy flats. "Right. I'm heading out, anyone else is welcome to my drink. If I'm not back in four hours, assume I froze somewhere and send a scamp after me. Anyone else is welcome to come or to stay warm, just leave that scarf somewhere it won't eat you."
"Maybe your scarf will dry while you're out," Yves says, eyeing the garment in question dubiously.
Orrey pulls his hat on a little tighter and accompanies Linnet.
Linnet and Orrey head into the Great White North, carrying a message and good tidings to the Rensa household. Isa, Yves, and Bast enjoy the companionable silence and even more companionable hot drinks and crackling fire.
On the way to the Rensa household, Orrey and Linnet pass six saddled chocobos milling about near the tree, one having settled itself on a bench that absolutely does not support its weight.
“They’re not stampeding. No Liga around.” Orrey says.
On their way back from the Rensa household, the chocobos are very far from their thoughts.
The doors to the Ondore Family Heritage Inn open, with Linnet and Orrey coming through, three other people joining them.
The first is Ryna Jidoor, a familiar viera woman with light gray fur, black-tipped ears, and rimless spectacles. She removes a faded red winter coat lined with faux fur as soon as she enters, hanging it up on the coatrack by the door, and looks back as the others enter, still in a green and gray sweaterdress, black tights, and gray winter boots.
The second is a viera man with light gray fur, black tipped ears, and a jaunty pointed mustache and beard combination. He wears a deep purple jacket with the sharpest shoulders anyone’s ever seen, black pants, and black boots with colorful buckles. The sleeves of his jacket have knitting needles of various sizes slotted into place. The jacket is entirely too fine for him to remove it and spare everyone its brilliance.
The third is an earth sylph man with matte gray skin, dark brown eyes, and a weary smile. He is wearing a long green and white silk robe, a heron woven into the fabric. His head has been shaved. He walks with a cane, and the left side of his body responds slower than the right, the left arm noticeably larger than the right.
“Everyone, you remember Ryna. This is Barea,” Orrey waves at the purple coated fellow, “And Natron.” He nods toward the sylph.
Linnet's mostly trying to blend into the walls, which would work better if she was wearing any green at all.
Barea Jidoor bows low, and beams at the five of them in turn. "I am told I have you to thank for my fiance's life," he says, breathless, his eyes glistening. "I can scarcely believe it."
The wallpaper act gets more difficult as Linnet turns several shades of red.
Isa lifts her cup. "All I did was get coffee, but you're welcome."
"Linnet's work, mainly." Bast smiles, waving his mug in her general direction. "I'm glad to see it helped. Would you like to join us?"
Natron settles into a chair, an act that would have been casual and unnoticed had both Jidoors not raced to help him sit and push the chair closer to the fire and grab a blanket and generally make themselves into loving nuisances.
Orrey whispers to Yves, “They’ve got mothering down to a an art. Poor guy.”
Linnet unpeels herself from the wall. "I nearly ruined it by bidding a book out from under Ryna, then roped two of my friends into an all-nighter to copy out half the book on a wing-and-a-prayer gamble that it might work. ...but it worked out okay, I guess, so it was totally worth it."
Natron takes a sip of a coffee that appears in his hand via betrothed magic, and then sets it on a tray that appears via best friend anticipation. "I am incredibly grateful," he says in a voice like a distant avalanche. "The disease is being eradicated on the expected schedule."
Quietly, Linnet takes a seat on a dry patch of rug by the fire; there are plenty of open chairs, but this is warmer. "How long does that schedule stretch out?"
He moves his left arm for the coffee and a few cracks sounding from inside the robe. "Apologies," he says quietly, and moves his sleeve down. Bits of gravel matching the color of his skin pour out, and Barea sweeps them up without a hint of pity or disgust on his face. "For as if it never happened? Perhaps another three months, should the seal hold. Once I am well enough to ride, I believe we are going to Saine?" he asks, looking over at Barea.
"Once you have recovered and we have the gil for the trip and the lodgings," Barea says. "And don't think I cannot tell when you are pushing yourself for our sakes."
"Visitors, Barea," Natron admonishes him.
"Heroes, Natron," Barea replies.
"What's in Saine?" Bast asks, curious.
"Besides the university town I grew up in and the library my parents have basically never left," Linnet adds.
"The largest collection of knowledge in the entire world," Ryna says, tearing her attention away from the two of them to answer. "Suppressing the Job Crystal--" she stops, but Natron gestures with his good hand for her to continue.
"It's okay, I'm sort of on the same project. Director Thornwell sent me questing for books on the subject," Linnet says.
"Suppressing the Job Crystal has stopped the disease's spread, and sealing the Crystal has put the disease in remission. But we want to see if there is a way to let him have all of himself back," Ryna says quietly.
"I will trade livelihood for life every time," Natron says gently.
"What were you doing, before?" Linnet asks, very quietly, hugging her knees.
Yves is listening intently. His ears, by their nature, don't exactly perk up, but... the impression of such remains.
Unconsciously, Linnet begins to play with her anklets, one of which has her own Job Crystal set in it. (The other has as close to a matching stone as could be found.)
"Geomancy," Natron says. "Aiding the planet. Touching the elements. Exploring my heritage, the biological variety. A profession that became a passion, which then became a prison." He looks at his left arm and flexes the hand, struggling to turn it into a fist, the hard edges of his skin fighting instead of stretching. "And in exchange for that, I am alive. It is not as hollow as I feel it is in my worst moments, but I am fortunate to have friends who do not want me to experience those moments for a day, let alone a lifetime."
Still quietly: "...Mr. Rensa, I might have some more personal and painfully relevant questions. Would you prefer me to ask them at a later time, so we can enjoy a happy evening among friends?" Linnet asks.
"Certainly," he replies. "Nothing you ask will offend me, either."
"Thank you." When Linnet meets Natron's gaze, her small smile does not reach her clearly scared eyes. But a blink later, that's cleared away and replaced with her standard, if slightly tired, sunny smile. She does lean in and ask in a conspiratorial whisper, "So how does one go about knocking a bit off the tourist price of the rooms here?"
The smile that returns is full of bitterness. "If only."
"Feels like the inn isn't a beloved local institution," Isa notes over a swallow of wine.
"Hah! Fair. Well, we did just get paid, I guess." She leans back a little to open up the conversation. "So, there's got to be a cute story about how you met, right? Skiing vacation? Felt the earth move under your feet?" She winks to defuse a bit of the groaning at the awful pun.
"I was madly in love with him the moment I laid eyes on him," Barea says, which gets a weary yet emotional smile from Natron in return. "I had come here for work; looking for the fashions that represented the people of Cardia, not just those proud and proper ones up on the tiny ring, and I see the finest figure of a man at the tree, stripped to the waist..."
"It was a nice shirt," Natron protests mildly.
"Rescuing a kitten that had gotten trapped in its branches--"
"Awwwww!" Linnet chirps.
"My favorite sweater already had so many pulls in it from the claws," Natron says.
"For you, I will mend every frayed thread," Barea says passionately.
"Oh," Yves says faintly, "kittens."
"Oops, that reminds me, Favorite Sweater Day is cancelled for the foreseeable future," Linnet says.
"Well, shit," says Isa, disappointed that she does not get to show off her collection of humorous sweaters.
Natron sighs and shrugs one shoulder. "The knitting, honestly, for me. Everything I feel in the natural world, contained within the delicate and purposeful movements of two hands.. there is an awe and a beauty to it that defies description."
"The Inn is..." Ryna starts.
"Three years old," Natron answers. "Three years of the finest Ondore family heritage, passed down from generation to generation. Quickly."
"...and expensively. Where'd all the startup capital come from?" Linnet asks. "Isa, you're certainly allowed to wear your favorite sweaters, I'm just not going to saddle Eiri with fixing the entire crew's worth of sweaters at once after Triscuit has gotten to them."
"Ondore's a major House, Linnet. The money's in the name," Isa answers.
The doors to the Ondore Family Heritage Inn open with quite the commotion.
"So the whole 'my grandfather's inn' thing is what, entertainment value?" Bast asks.
Varen turns, smiling brightly and professionally.
Ryna makes a face and tries to put it back.
Isa shrugs. "Sounds good for the tourists."
Natron, his back to the door, gives his head the slightest of resigned shakes.
Six people step inside, a collection of impressive weapons and questionable fashions.
Three humans, a tonberry, a sylph, and a viera, ranging from nearly seven feet tall to a hair under four.
A main with brown hair, a tuft of hair at his chin, and a broad-bladed axe on his back, throws his arms out wide. "The conquering heroes return!"
"Oh great," Isa mutters into her cup. "Heroes."
"Varen!" he says, striding up to the counter. "Our rooms. Clear?"
"As ever," Varen says, calm and always smiling.
Bast's "ah" over his mug is unvoiced, but emphatic.
"Do they not teach the word please in conquering hero school?" Linnet mutters under her breath to Natron.
"Stellar work, stellar work. A testament to your station, Varen, I've always said that. Do see to our chocobos, would you? They're at the tree," the warrior says.
"Of course, sir," Varen replies.
“All I can think of right now is how awkward it felt having Kurt Heibel give us that recruiting speech.” Orrey shakes his head.
"Hey now, that might be the dream of a lifetime for some people," Bast says.
The axe-wielding man looks over, his eyes falling on the group. "Travelers! Varen, you didn't say!"
"You didn't ask," Varen says. "Shall I take care of your birds now, my lord?"
The man shrugs. "Where do you hail from?" he calls out to Linnet and the rest. "Drawn here by the famous Ondore Hot Springs, I assume?"
“All over!” Orrey says. “And how are the hot springs?” Orrey glances at Bast to see if his vagueness is sneaky enough.
("Imported?", Bast thinks to himself.)
"They'll put Uhja on the map!" the axeman says, thumping his chest proudly. "And of course, with such notoriety come all manner of people who wish to make life difficult, on locals and tourists alike! Fortunately for the Ondores, there's nothing I care about more than making sure these fine people get to reap the fruits of their labors!"
“Are you the manager?” Orrey asks, confused.
Isa looks at the locals sitting with her, to see if their lives are currently being made difficult.
From the facial expressions, the answer is yes, with "current" underlined a few times.
Bast wonders how much reaping knitting requires.
"Manager? No, that's Varen here, and you'll never find anyone better! But as for us and ours, I am Arenvald, the leader of Uhja's defense force, ensuring that no ill befalls anyone fortunate enough to live here." Arenvald taps the handle of his axe with two fingers.
"Are you thinking...pirates? I wouldn't have thought that would be an issue in Cardia," Bast says.
"If you're not on the map yet, what's there to conquer?" Linnet asks as blandly as possible, rising from the fire. "Varen, want a hand with those chocobos?" Without waiting for an answer, she shrugs on her coat and heads outside.
Isa drinks wine, instead of asking pointed and potentially identity-revealing questions about loyalty, oaths, and/or mercenary contracts.
"Let them have their way," Ryna says under her breath to Bast. "Not worth it."
"Is there some sort of snow equivalent of pirates?" Yves asks, not to any particular source.
“What’s the going rate for such...protection?” Orrey asks suspiciously.
"Captain..." Isa warns softly.
(Outside, a certain amount of squawking can be heard.)
"Your rooms are ready, Arenvald," Varen says, not rolling toward the door just yet.
"Ah come on, Orrey, I keep telling you that you dont need to buy protection here. This town already has some, see?"
Arenvald watches Orrey for a moment, appraising him. Then, after a haughty smirk that lasts for maybe half a second, turns to the others. "Let's go," he says, as they start to move toward him. "The Warriors of Light have earned their rest."
"Of course." can be heard faintly echoing in Isa's wine cup.
Yves makes a small sound into his own cup of mulled something.
The Warriors of Light leave, with plenty of muttering between them, a few testy glances, one chipper wave.
And a chorus of bemused squawking.
Orrey shakes his head and pulls out a sketch pad and some pencils of various colors.
"We should break for a little bit," Ryna says. "Doctor's orders."
Natron closes his eyes and nods. "And I know better than to argue with the doctor. We do not have room to host, but we can afford to pay for a dinner here. Could we invite you all to join us here in two hours?"
Linnet strolls back in, braid bedecked with feathers, shoes spotless. "Well, that was interesting. I don't know if they're in the right stalls or anything, but they're each in a box and all the random leather bits are off of them. And they have food in one box and water in another, and a blanket over them. I have no idea what happy chocobos sound like, but they seemed ok? I hope. Are they gone?" She looks around. "Oh thank the breeze they're gone."
She meets her party's bewildered gazes. "What? I kept songbirds. Chocobos are just really, really big birds."
“Whatever you say, dear.” Orrey says, straightfaced.
Isa makes full eye contact with Linnet, and simply says "Wark."
"What was the plan? Did we have a plan? I'm sorry, I couldn't stay and listen to Captain Bluster any longer, but I'm game with whatever you all were planning - " Then there is no more planning, as Linnet dissolves into helpless giggles. "Never heard a chocobo sing, but hey, if it works." Bast raises his mug to Linnet slightly, and looks into the fire.
End Session 48.