pullmeoutalive | RO > call me out; a forever open RP post, version 2

[ In answer, Fedora licks his chops, chuffing in the affirmative. Jacob merely watches the exchange before asking, ] What does that word mean?

Little spirit.

[ He holds out a piece for Fedora to take, and he smiles a little. ]

Though he is hardly little.

[ Fedora gingerly takes it from him, and it's gone in a single bite ]

It's not so bad, until he decides he wants to sleep on the bed too.

[ He breathes out a laugh, inclining his head. ]

It would be more his bed at that point, one assumes.

[ What's left of his dinner, he offers to Fedora. ]

You and your friend will need to make arrangements among yourselves, however. You ought to rest as much as possible; you may not feel it entirely now, but the strain of the day's ride will catch up to you come morning.

[ Fedora is happy to take the leftovers. He doesn’t need to eat, being made of magic and all, but he likes to. ]

I feel a bit like it’s catching up to me now, but it’s not as bad as it could be.

[ Jacob stands and stretches. He feels a bit stiff and sore, but it’s nothing he can’t ignore.

Wolf and wizard share a glance for a moment, and have one of those conversations that they have without actually speaking. When the moment passes, Jacob gives a nod. ] Fedora will keep an eye out, just in case. That way we both can get some rest.

[ He offers Fedora a small, grateful nod. He had intended to keep watch tonight, or at least spend some time setting wards and offerings for any wild creatures that came their way, but this works just as well. ]

Thank you.

[ Solas stands, then heads to the tent he set up for himself. ]

Rest, Detective. We should arrive in the Emerald Graves come tomorrow afternoon.

Good night, Solas.

[ He has a feeling that tomorrow isn't going to be easy.

Jacob moves to retire for the night, while Fedora pads off to keep watch. Jacob can only hope that Andrew is okay, because despite what Solas said, Jacob would never forgive himself if something were to happen. ]

[ The night passes uneventfully, and Solas rises early to break down camp and feed and water the horses. Breakfast is merely trail rations -- bread and jerky -- and when the sun is high enough in the sky to provide ample light, they return to their journey.

The pace Solas sets is just as swift and relentless as the previous day, taking breaks as necessary. He understands the detective's urgency, after all. What's more, while the wizard may be exhausted and sore from yesterday's ride, Solas has the feeling that Jacob wouldn't appreciate if he slackened their pace in deference to his condition.

They make good time, reaching the Emerald Graves not too long after the sun crests in the sky. Only then does Solas slow his horse to a trot. ]

How are you faring, Detective?

I'm all right.

[ Still sore, still stiff, and altogether anxious, but he's had worse and he's definitely got other concerns right now. ]

Do you know where to go from here?

Unfortunately, the spirit had little in the way of concrete information. As helpful as they can be, spirits tend to be confused by our world, how immutable it is.

Also, they're quite poor with directions.

I suppose a vague location is better than none at all.

Let's see if we can find any leads. [ ever the cop, Jacob ]

[ He nods. ] From our visits here, we know there are Venatori encampments scattered throughout the area. They may have taken up residence in some of the abandoned villas to the south.

[ ~~so like that one multiplayer map~~ ]

That seems like a good place to start, at least. And if we run across any of their fellows on the way, they might be persuaded to tell us for sure.

[ He nods, nudging his horse in the proper direction. ]

We can sure of one thing, at least -- they will have kept your friend alive, if they think him capable of the same level of destruction as Charlie.

It's a small consolation.

[ He directs his horse to follow along ] By destruction, I assume you mean Charlie's Last Resort.

I believe that's what he named it, yes. I never witnessed it personally, but I heard reports.

I've only seen it once, myself. It's... something.

[ It's extremely terrifying, is what it is ]

Uncommon in your world, then. That is some comfort, at least. It had been turned on a number of Inquisition forces before Charlie was recovered.

So I heard. [ Jacob's mouth draws into a thin line. Charlie might not have been himself when it happened, but he still feels responsible. ]

From the way I understand it, Charlie drafted that spell himself. There's not another like it in existence.

The Venatori will be disappointed by that bit of news. All the more reason to find your friend before they discover this truth.

Should the worst come to pass, does he have any abilities of which I should be made aware?

You mean like Charlie's Last Resort? No, nothing like that- I don't think the kid has an offensive spell in his arsenal. Andrew is training to become a Spiritualist. It's essentially the opposite of a Necromancer- they commune with the dead and strive to put restless spirits at ease.

Apparently that works somewhat differently here, but he might well attract the attention of your version of spirits as well.

It seems he already has; your magic has no connection with the Fade, yet he happened to gain the assistance of a spirit of Compassion. Perhaps they are holding him in a place where the Veil is thin, and such thoughts are transferred easily. I have yet to receive any further messages from any other spirits, though perhaps that is only a matter of time.

Talking to spirits is one of Andrew's strong suits. I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

How fortunate for all of us that his magic seems to translate so well to this world.

[ The journey south is uneventful, for a time; the woods are thick and lush, with little in the way of roads. There are pathways worn into the dirt from years of travel, though they extend only so far; the rest of their trip is spent by carefully picking out paths safe for their mounts.

Luckily, they do not encounter any bears.

Still, the peace is short-lived, and Solas pulls against the reins of his horse, silently signalling for the detective to do the same. Ahead of them, still ignorant of the mage and the wizard, is an encampment of men in ornate robes of black and gold and complicated-looking armor. Other men wear little in the way of protection, though they still strike formidable figures -- Solas expects these are slaves, forced into the service of their lords to fight.

He dismounts silently, pulling his staff from its harness at his back. He whispers to the detective, ]

One of these men may know something about your friend, I assume. How persuasive do you think you can be?

By that, do you mean diplomacy or brute force?

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