bakerstreet | Love on an Adventure

Love on an Adventure

LOVE ON AN ADVENTURE meme

Lucky you. For a while, you get to eschew a normal life and see life past your door; you're going on a quest! It could be for personal reasons, for fun, for profit, or to save the world as you know it. In all likelihood, it's the latter, given the natural order of things, but hopefully it's not. Whatever the case may be, you won't be going it alone, however. Whether it's just you and a partner or a true fellowship, you've got people to back you up. You may not all start out as the best of friends, that's true - still, the fires of potential life or death scenarios or the threat of losing your booty draw you closer together, and a friendship forms.

With one member of your party, more than friendship grows between you.

But wait, you have to defeat the dark lord, find the oldest wand, fight evil by moonlight, create a giant robot, or any other number of tasks. There's no time for this sort of nonsense! Actually, you may push them away because of the mission or due to past wounds that tie into said mission. Maybe, though, you can steal moments to get closer, let a romance blossom...or more.

HOW to PLAY

Comment with your character, preferences, and any other info - ie, keep it PG, etc.
Even though I used a fantasy picture, don't feel constrained! In Harry Potter, they have to find a wand, in Supernatural, the Colt, in Avatar, they have to fight the Fire Lord, etc.
Feel free to AU your character or include information about them.
Reply to others.

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"Or wing it?" He suggests, heading for the steps again. Once he's near the bottom, he Shouts. "Dur Neh Viir!"

There's a sudden rush of what looks like purple flames (the same shade as a charged soul gem) from the snowy ground on up, and when they die down a dragon is left standing there. It's a rather sickly-looking one, almost nothing to it but skin and bone, and the leathery wings are so tattered it doesn't seem like the thing should be able to fly at all.

But it flaps its wings, quite clearly intending to take off before Vanyel calls out to it. "Just a moment, Durnehviir. I need a favor from you before you fly off."

It eyes him for a moment, then asks in a wet, rasping voice, "What sort of favor, Qahnariin?"

Garyn sees exactly where Vanyel is going with this. It's not that he doesn't agree. He'd just rather he asked instead.

Whereas Vanyel figures it's safer if he does the asking. Durnehviir does reason to hold off attacking him, at least - though he doesn't flatter himself that they'll be enough to stay the dragon's hand if he gets offended enough to attack. Even then, he already knows he can take Durnehviir in a fight.

And Durnehviir knows it too - so though he's visibly agitated by the request for a ride and a growl rumbles up from his chest, he makes no move to attack. "Rax wah ruus! I am no donth key to be saddled and ridden at your whim!"

"I know. Krosis. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent," Vanyel replies, laying a hand on the dragon's neck. "But time is of the essence, and I can't think of any faster way to travel than on dragon's wings."

Durnehviir grumbles, and continues to look very unhappy about it, but the compliment mollifies him enough that he lowers his neck - a clear invitation for them to climb on. Vanyel waves Garyn over before going ahead and doing so.

Edited 2016-01-02 20:57 (UTC)

Better to have it done by someone who speaks the language anyway. Carefully, climbs aboard.

Since Vanyel has the beast's ear already, he trusts that he can explain the destination and nature of their mission. That he would have heard of Miraak seems likely.

He can and does - and bringing Miraak's name into it causes an immediate change in Durnehviir's demeanor. Suddenly he's much more willing to help, even if that means letting them ride him.

"It is said Miraak's thu'um could bend the will of even the strongest of dov," the dragon mutters darkly. Or as close as a creature so large can get to 'muttering,' anyway. "Taazokaan ill needs such a one back."

His wings flap just once in warning before he launches himself into the sky. Clearly, as far as he's concerned the two mortals better just hold on tight.

Garyn was already gripping rather tightly to begin with. He only hopes his corprus-granted grip strength isn't causing the dragon any serious discomfort.

The flight is, in any event, as swift as the flight from the village itself was, traversing several miles in a matter of minutes. Fortunately for his passengers, he descends to the Wind Stone gently before landing.

It doesn't seem to be - not so surprising, perhaps, given the changes wrought by the Ideal Masters and his lengthy stay in the Soul Cairn. He's closer to undead creature than living dragon, now.

Vanyel climbs off as soon as he's able. "Thank you, Durnheviir. Vah su'um ven."

"Vah su'um ven, Qahnahriin. May your hunt be successful." Once rid of his passengers, Durnheviir takes to the skies again. Unsurprisingly, the enthralled villagers take no notice of him or any part of the exchange.

Vanyel takes a breath, then steps toward the Wind Stone. "Gol!" There's no light show to accompany the Shout, but the effect is immediately obvious. The Skaal rouse as if from a long sleep, looking around in confusion and discarding their tools.

"How did you do that?" An older man standing near Vanyel asks, but before he can answer, cracks begin to appear in the arches and columns that have been built up around the Stone.

"Get away from here!" Vanyel calls, herding as many of them as he can away before the newer structures fall. "Go back to your village!"

All that Miraak made them build comes crashing down, and a creature emerges from the wreckage that bears a striking resemblance to the statues in the heart of Miraak's temple. It gives a hissing, gurgling cry and looks as if it lighthouse the fleeing villagers - before Vanyel grabs its attention with a fireball to the head.

In a moment, Trueflame is drawn, raking the hulking Daedroth across the lower back, then slashing again across the back of the knee. Not for the first time, it occurs to Garyn how odd it is that a mer as tall as he is seems to constantly have to fight with his shield angled upwards.

The creature whips around (for a given value of the phrase), spitting what appears to be acid - a few drops hit the ground and eat into the soft earth with a sizzling noise.

While its back is turned Vanyel hurls another fireball at it, hitting the wound on its back - which seems to leave the thing torn as to which of them it should deal with first.

A glob of acid brushes against Garyn's face. Refexively, he turns his head away as his cheekbone sizzles.

The lurker now turns its attention to Garyn, coiling its long limbs for a crushing blow.

And Vanyel switches tacks, since the fire didn't seem to be having much effect - he casts a lightning spell at the thing, once more hitting the wound Garyn's sword left. It shrieks and visibly staggers, so Vanyel does it again, taking a few steps closer.

Seeing the effect that Vanyel's spells were having, Garyn steps backward and sheathes his sword in favor of his bow. He's quite well practiced at doing it quickly, and has an arrow notched by the time Vanyel's next bolt strikes if it proves necessary.

The next bolt drives the thing to what passes for its knees with another shrieking cry. But it won't stay there for long, and it's going to take Vanyel a moment to ready another bolt - so if they want to end this now, their best bet is likely for Garyn to put an arrow through its eye.

He's happy to oblige - and at exactly the spot narration helpfully indicated. The lurker shudders, stiffens, and falls.

As its remains quickly dissolve, Garyn grunts and begins to rummage for something to treat the alarming and still painful wound on his face.

Vanyel closes the distance between them, laying a hand over the wound and casting Healing Hands. It only takes a few moment for the spell to do its work, and once it has Vanyel lets his hand fall away and steps back again.

With Garyn healed, and -thank the Eight- no Skaal injured in the confrontation, he focuses on the business at hand. "We should probably head back to the Skaal village and see if Storn can tell us any more about how to find and defeat Miraak."

Garyn freezes, looking Vanyel in the eye for a moment before tearing his gaze toward the horizon. Gods.

"Yes, I should think that's obvious," he says.

Then, more confidently: "We should see if they've a hearth open for us as well. We'll be seeing a lot more of Solstheim for a while, and we did save them, after all. I suspect that won't be the last of the All-Maker Stones you'll need to clear, either."

It had been a purely reflexive gesture, after all the time he's spent these last few years patching up his traveling companions after battles, but it occurs to him now that it might well be the first time he's touched Garyn at all since they've met.

But he pushes those thoughts aside; they've bigger things to worry about now.

"I suspect you're right," he agrees, turning toward a rise, over which the smoke from the Skaal village's fires is just visible. "If nothing else, breaking his control over the Stones ought to at least slow him down."

There's also the matter of the Black Book to consider; he's not eager to try opening it again and seeing if it gets the same result, but as of now it's the only means they have to reach Miraak. If it no longer works...

Garyn shakes the thoughts from his own mind. This is no time for it. They cross the remaining ground quickly.

Storn is waiting for them. He hasn't moved from where he was kneeling before, but he has now risen to his feet to watch the Skaal trickle back to their homes. He bows his head in greeting.

"The air is different," he says. "We are safe, which means you have succeeded."

He bows his head in return, and then asks. "What do we do now?"

"If you have broken the hold on the Wind Stone and released my people, perhaps you can do the same for the rest of Solstheim. I doubt it will fully stop whatever Miraak is doing, but it may slow his progress."

Vanyel's thoughts had run along similar lines, but just slowing Miraak down isn't a solution. "Then what do we need to do to stop him?"

"I cannot help with that; none here can. You will need the knowledge Miraak himself learned."

"The Black Book."

Carefully, Garyn pulls the book from his pack.

"Miraak ha this? This does not look like something of the Dragon Cult."

The old man's brow furrows.

"It is a dark thing, unnatural. I would have nothing to do with it. But the Dark Elf wizard, Neloth...he came to us some time ago, asking about Black Books. I believe he knows a great deal about them. Perhaps too much."

Him again. Garyn is just able to swallow the most intense grimace imaginable.

"Seek his home on the south coast."

So it's not an artifact of the dragon cult - somehow, he can't find it in himself to be surprised by that, given how it felt in his hands.

He's drawn out of his thoughts when Storn turns his attention from Garyn to Vanyel himself. "Be cautious, Dragonborn. There is something else at work here."

Well, it's a damn sight better than being told he may or may doom them all.

Vanyel nods his thanks, then glances over at Garyn. "The stones first, I think - then we can use whatever time that buys us to find more information on these Black Books." And he does remember how Garyn reacted to Neloth before.

"Agreed," Garyn says.

He turns to Storn.

"Would we be welcome to eat and rest among the Skaal? We've traveled far today."

The shaman gives his permission, and it isn't long before they're settled near a blazing fire, bowls of stew in hand, and left in peace to eat and rest. Vanyel can't bring himself to be anything but grateful for that; it's been a very, very long day.

Still, he's not so tired that he won't take the chance to satisfy at least some of his curiosity when the opportunity is practically handed to him.

His eyes are drawn to Garyn periodically, though he does his best not to stare outright, and once he's put away enough stew to silence his grumbling stomach, he finally breaks the silence. "So, what brought you to Solstheim in the first place?"

Edited 2016-09-25 03:48 (UTC)

Like his companion, Garyn eats in silence, his focus interrupted by brief and furtive glances.

When the question comes, he's expecting it.

"That's a little hard for me to answer," he says. "To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure myself. Work, I suppose."

It's true enough, anyway.

Well, consider his interest piqued.

"Oh? What sort of work?" And then, belatedly, "Ah- I suppose I should apologize for pulling you away from it regardless..."

Garyn may have freely offered his aid earlier, but he was hardly obligated to stick around now - especially since they'd gotten a taste of how dangerous things could get.

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Curse my own ambiguous wording - Vanyel was who I meant.

Whoops >.>

Well, it was kind of my fault.

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After an eternity of really nasty RL horseshit - mind picking this thread up again?

Not at all! And I hope the outlook is better from here on out.

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Okay, this time I just lost the notif.

Yeah, that happens. I know gmail was tossing mine in spam for no reason for a little while >.>

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Thought I replied to this back in August but apparently DW ate the tag?! Still up for continuing?

Sorry for the delay - had to get a new computer, things were up in the air. Definitely would.

No worries; computer trouble is what kept me from checking on it any sooner myself. >.>