Flipout6

Alright, since apparently there's been another exception to what I'm being told regarding computer time, let me try to make it a bit clearer just so that I don't start having a cry-wolf effect and am constantly calling "Oh drama drama! I won't be on for-" xx days. So, given that some trouble's come up with school, my time on the comp's more restricted until things improve (yes, it's my fault.) but if a day goes well enough and homework is done and done well, I may be allowed on. As time wears on and homework starts piling up, I'll likely be on less during the week. But for now, there's a bit of a grace period, and I may find myself on during the evenings on Mondays and Tuesdays, possibly Fridays, and a 90% chance of getting on during the weekends. But I'm still unavailable Wednesday and Thursday because of extra-curriculars, and I AM still away most of this upcoming weekend from Friday at 6ish to around Sunday at 5ish. Things aren't turning out quite like I thought they would beforehand-yet, at least- and what I thought before was what I told Auri would happen. But I'm trying to explain it a little better so I don't become the new drama king of the RP forums XD I can be relied upon to make a few posts a week at most, but won't be on as much as I was before, and that time may very well vary. ....Oh, and if I post fast enough y'all may get your first encounter with Elaril Del'Ferrill soon enough :devil: P.S: Auri, I'm sorry for hassling you so much XD

That was just the calm before the storm.... ...Literally :devil:

The Greys looked around, alarmed, trying to find any sign of Sana. "Where'd she go?!?!" Arland asked. "I don't remember this trick..." Weyland mumbled to himself. "Keep your guard up. Don't leave your backs exposed." Sybille advised. "Amendale! Make sure she doesn't sneak up on you! Audri, same thing!" Amendale nodded. As it turns out,Sybille's fears were unfounded, which she found out when multiple identical copies of Sana appeared. Even though several simultaneous Sanas would make it difficult to discern which was which, it was better than taking a pair of scimitars to the back. "Smack 'em till ya find the right one!" Sybille shouted, before charging. Guessing that Sana would be the one farther away from them, she rushed right through most of them, running right through one image with a shoulder-check and swinging her hammer on any other subsequent ones. Arland shoved both of his blades through one of them and shattered it. It was ultimately Weyland who found the right Sana, after he made to sever her front legs from her body and nearly took ten claws to the face when she reared up to defend herself. "Over here!" He shouted, barely defending himself against tremendously powerful blows that would buckle or shatter regular steel shields if they blocked the armor-piercing blades at all. "You can roll over and die anytime now!" Arland growled to Sana as he jumped onto her back and made to sever her head before she elbowed him and nearly sent him to the ground. He grabbed on to her hair and resisted falling off, and managed to cleave a huge hunk of skin out of her back before she sheathed a blade, grabbed Weyland by the shield, and threw him backwards into a tree. After doing so, she fell onto her side and rolled over, knocking over and crushing both Arland and Sybille. They lay there, gasping, as Sana began casting a spell that Amendale failed to counter. "You're...mine." Sana grinned wickedly, as she cast the spell. Weyland stood up and drew his blade. Arland struggled to his feet and helped Sybille to hers, her having been crushed twice. "Attack." Sana told Weyland, and pointed at Amendale. The warrior charged....right at Amendale, knocking him over with his shield and shoving his blade right through Amendale's stomach. The Moon elf felt cold pain fill him, and then stars filled his eyes as the electrical enchantment on the blade coursed through every fiber of his being before the blade was withdrawn. Confused, he stared through blurry eyes at Weyland as his friend raised his blade again. "WEYLAND! WHAT IN THE HELLS ARE YOU DOING?!?!" Sybille shouted, alarmed. "She has control of his mind!" "He was always mine." Sybille ran towards Weyland, tackling him to the ground as he was about to finish Amendale off. "You, me and Audri, scow." Arland's eyes narrowed and he easily dodged Sana's pained counterattack as the wound he inflicted began to affect her. "Weyland! Weyland! Come back into your senses!" Sybille wrestled with her brother on the ground, and it wasn't long before she'd disarmed him and locked him in a choke-hold. He reached for his sword, intending to spear his sister on it, before he suddenly stopped. "Urk...!" He breathed. "Can't...breathe! Sybille!" She let him go. She'd had to do that to Marie before, mind-dominated people didn't address people by names. "Get Amendale to his feet. He's still alive." "I saw myself stab him..." Weyland helped Amendale to his feet, feeling shell-shocked. Sybille rushed back into battle to assist Arland, who wouldn't let up his own assault. Sana wasn't given an opportunity to cast the spell again. "Amendale. Amendale!" Weyland shook his friend. "Heal yourself, friend. That's not enough to fell you. Here, here's your components, you taught me. Remember the words?" Because I sure as hells don't know what you have to say. "Yes....yes." Amendale sighed, his head lolling. He was lucky that Weyland had missed the liver or he may already be dead. Bringing his mind back into focus despite the pain and disorientation, he cast the spell and covered the wound with his hand. The pain increased threefold for a second until everything had been patched up and healed. "I'm okay. Go!" "Weyland's back in his own head again!" Sybille declared to Arland. "Took him long enough!" Arland somersaulted over the ground, avoiding a powerful downward strike that he had no doubt would have blown through his armor, mithral or no, and came out of the roll swinging. One of Sana's tendons was severed, and she nearly fell over right there and then. Shrieking, she kicked at Arland with her hind legs and kept him back. Relying on intense concentration, she barely managed to let loose another spell, this time a Dominate spell aimed at Dri. This was followed by her focusing an attack on Sybille, and two blows slipped by. One glanced off of her shoulder-plate harmlessly while another one hit her hard enough in the rips that two of them cracked, and a sizable bruise would be left. Unable to charge at Amendale, she watched in horror as the Moon Elf took advantage of Dri's destroying her remaining mirror images to summon a cone of fire downwards from the very sky itself before she could cast anything to counter him, and with the mirrors gone, he knew exactly where she was. All three Greys backed up and watched as the flame seared Sana inside and out, and yet somehow she stayed standing. "HOW IN THE HELLS IS SHE STILL ALIVE?!?!" Arland asked incredulously. "Who cares, let's fix that!" Weyland shouted. Taking advantage of her momentary opening, he sliced her stomach wide open, forcing her to hold in her own innards as he brought his blade down and completely severed one of her front paws from her body. By now she was regaining her senses, despite the pain, and she managed to stay standing with only two good legs and continue to fight at the same time. How, Weyland didn't know. But she hit him with a Forceful Hand, and he was dragged to the edge of the woods before it moved to Arland and dragged him backwards as well. Already off-balance as is, Sana took a Tanglefoot Bag to her two rear legs and tripped onto her stomach when it hardened. Sybille, sensing victory, brought her maul into the air, shouted, and slammed it into Sana's back, splitting the Lamia's spine in two. Sana, defeated, fell over. "This is for my brother, creature." Sybille growled she raised her weapon to crush Sana's skull into the dirt. "Wait!" Weyland shouted, limping towards her. The Forceful hand had sprained his ankle and it pained him to put weight on it. "Let me." Sybille stepped backwards. "As you wish, brother. You have more a right than any of us to it." "Let me watch." Arland demanded as he stumbled out of the wheat field. Weyland kicked Sana's scimitars well out of her reach and placed a foot on her stomach, laying pressure on it. Sana gasped as the pressure extended all the way to her back, and burning pain engulfed her. He let up on the pressure, leaving her coherent enough to understand his final words to her. "You deserve far worse than you're getting, Sana." He told her. There was no anger in his voice. If anything, he sounded exhausted. "You've done so much to people who didn't deserve it. I'm only doing a small justice to all the others you killed and enslaved and tortured. I can't help them anymore, I can only avenge them... and myself. May they find peace....and may Kelemvor toss your soul into the Wall of the Faithless, never to return." And with that, he slid his blade through her heart.

Quick random thing, changed Weyland's alignment from "Chaotic Good" to "Neutral Good" because it fits more. Auri agrees. So feh!

"Yeah, I think I'll be fine. Arland looks a little shaken u- DUCK!" He shoved Dri backwards as hard as he could and barely had his blade out of its sheath in time to barely parry one of the massive golden blades that parted the air as it screamed at him. A jet of searing red-hot flames flared to life on Arland's twin swords when he drew them almost instantly and he rushed the Lamia, striking with a complex series of strikes that took advantage of every opening, every pause. Sana didn't take a scratch, but he bought enough time for Sybille to haul her maul out of its holster and Weyland to shrug his shield off of his back. Amendale's hands flared with magic as he cast Greater Magic Weapon on Weyland's blade and he retreated approximately twenty feet away, where he cast a Prayer. "Weyland, keep her occupied!" Sybille shouted authoritatively as she circled around to Sana's right. "Arland, flank her! Hit her left!" "I'm a little busy doing his job!" Arland replied, before a vicious kick to the stomach threw him three feet backwards and he landed on his back. Sana lunged for a kill, both blades raised, only to meet Weyland's mithral shield as he placed himself beneath them, kneeling down onto one knee. The force of the blow pained his arm even from behind the shield and armor, but he kicked himself upwards, blowing an opening in Sana's defenses as her scimitars were thrown upwards, and he shoved his sword forwards towards her stomach. Arland rolled out of the way and slashed at Sana's hind legs as Sybille brought her hammer upwards and brought it down towards the Lamia's back, hoping to break her spine, before one of the cursed golden blades halted the blow in mid-air and Sybille too was kicked backwards. She slid through the dirt on her feet, but didn't fall. "That won't work on me, creature!" She snarled. She saw Amendale's owl familiar take to the skies high above them, soaring to fifty feet in the air before swooping down and conferring a Protection From Evil spell to Audri and returned to Amendale's shoulder, before taking flight again. "THIS IS WHY I HATE CATS!" Weyland shouted randomly. "AND SLAVERS!" He parried every ruthlessly powerful blow Sana threw at him, but was left few opportunities to make his own attack, even with his siblings by now attacking Sana from two different sides. As the owl made contact with Weyland, barely avoiding being annihilated, he instantly felt himself become far more formidable. Amendale had given him the endurance of a bear. Sybille was quickly gifted with the strength of a bull. "So SHE'S the reason you disappeared?!?!" Sybille asked. "YES! JUST KILL HER ALREADY!" A vicious strike from two angles at the end of a long chain of blows left him wide open for an attack, and Sana's scimitar cleaved a path across the front of his chest that, provided his armor had failed to protect him from it, would have created a scar nearly identical to the one that still marked Sana's chest, from her belly to her upper-left shoulder that he'd given her during their previous encounter. Instead, it scraped across the surface, knocked the wind out of Weyland, and sent sparks flying everywhere. "Ack!" Arland felt his neck tear wide open as Sana swiped him with her claws, slipping by both his helmet and his armor and barely missing the jugular vein. It was a wound severe enough to knock him off-balance, and Arland fell into the dirt, gasping. Shouting, Weyland and Sybille redoubled their attacks as the owl took flight to deliver a healing spell to Arland, again barely avoiding death to bring the youngest Grey back into the fight. Amendale already felt sweat on his brow. It hadn't yet been thirty seconds and already one of them had nearly been killed. This was going to be a tough fight, even with superior numbers on their side.

Sybille went around to personally introduce herself to everybody in the group. Weyland, not quite sure about what else he could do, went upstairs and grabbed his own armor and put it on. Despite only having the fancy-looking skin of mithral a week or so at most, Weyland already felt comfortable in it. He figured the previous owner must have been a similar size. Once he managed to fit on all of the pieces and fit his helmet into his backpack, he re-clipped his sword-belt to himself, casually held his shield on his arm, and began walking back downstairs. Suddenly he found Amendale at his side. "Arva and Ianthe are back with us." The Moon Elf stated casually. "Really? Great! Remind me to welcome 'em back." "Make sure to welcome 'em back." Amendale reminded him helpfully. "Amendale....Go hang." Weyland grinned and jabbed him on the shoulder. "The hells are you wearing, brother?" Sybille asked Weyland when she saw him. "That armor looks like it was made for royalty, not a sword-swinger like yourself." "Yeah, I think it used to belong to a Paladin." He explained. "Whoever it was, they weren't wearing it when I found it. Either way, I found it in a dragon's hoard, you're not going to find anything basic in a dragon's hoard." "Speaking of which..." Arland approached her with the gifts he'd finally managed to haul out of Hexol's bag. "Pretty sure these are enchanted to the hells. Try 'em." He offered the suit of armor and the maul to his sister. "Looks like I ought to head upstairs to get changed then." "Use my room. Fourth door to your right up the stairs." Amendale suggested. "Alright, I will. Thanks." When she came back down a few minutes later with, she was grinning broadly and wearing a very heavy-looking set of Darksteel full-plate, that glimmered faintly purple, and hefted a massive cold-iron maul that was even bigger than her previous weapon. "Well, Arland, you were right. I can feel the enchantments on this. Thanks, brother." She crushed him with a one-armed hug. "Hells of a homecoming gift. Means I can pull even more of my weight than I could before. Now, I've introduced myself to everybody in this group here, it's about time we go get Arland's list off the wanted charts." "Sounds good to me." Arland agreed. Sybille quickly informed Rhaine that they'd be out for a while, told her where they were going, and then brought them all outside. Amendale decided to tag along, while Weyland politely greeted Arva and Ianthe on the way out. "Hey, you two. Good to see ya again! We'll have to catch up sometime, but I got business to get to before that happens. Let's talk later, over dinner perhaps. Something tells me we all got stories to share." He smiled warmly at them before following his siblings outside. "Again, make sure to welcome 'em back." Amendale thumped Weyland on the shoulder and smirked cheekily at him. "So, Sybille, these people aren't going to try to shove my head on a spike when I walk in the door, right...?" Arland asked. "The guards or the Ordains?" Sybille questioned. "Both." "Nah, not with me around." "That's....reassuring?" "Don't worry, if you tried to get away the two of us would hunt you down anyway." Weyland stated matter-of-factly. "Somehow that doesn't help." "I wouldn't." Amendale stated. "I know you wouldn't, I stabbed your bounty-hunter friend in the gut." Arland snarked. "Is there anybody in the Realms who you HAVEN'T irked?" Sybille asked him, frowning sternly. "I dunno." That began a long lecture for Arland from all three of the others that lasted until they reached one of the many guard offices located around Westgate, and Arland handed several gold pieces to the guard with a cold glare, about six words total, and a hasty departure. Without further ado, Sybille led them to where the old farm had used to be, and then Arland took them across the old wheat field across the road, and across the left side to where the very same well that Weyland had disappeared fetching water from still stood and was used by the locals. By now they were a mile or two outside of Westgate itself, and there were only farmhouses around, though the Ordains' old manor stood on top of a hill another mile away. Amendale approached the spot warily, feeling that he was treading on sacred ground upon which he didn't feel he belonged. Weyland insisted he stay, however. "Here we are." Arland pointed out. About ten feet to the side of the old well sat two relatively small gravestones, about two feet high and three feet wide, and they sat a mere foot and a half apart. In years past a ring of flowers had surrounded the two square feet around the old gravestone, but now that halo of colors had been extended to encompass the stone on the right. These flowers had seemingly not been tread on and had been lovingly kept. Weyland frowned as he approached the memorial site, and the other three hung back. WEYLAND GREY 1354-1364 Nothing can replace you, our dearly-loved child. The words marked the grave, and little more, but it was all Weyland really cared about. Hells, he wasn't expecting anything glamorous after he was gone, a stick or a stone behind one of Kelemvor's churches would've been enough for him, let alone something given this much time and care. It touched him deeply. "You all...you all did this?" He asked, gesturing to the marker. "Yup. Mom mostly got the flowers while we scraped letters into the actual rock, mind you." Arland answered. "It... uh, it means a lot. To me." Weyland told the two of them. "Wish I'd been able to see this when Amendale and I came through. But my own superstitious fear kept me from coming back here." "You might've been a troublemaking little bastard, but you're still our brother." Sybille answered, before she stepped forwards and looked at Ethel's grave. Ethel Grey 1356-1376 Your gentle soul deserved far better than we could ever give you. Sybille knelt down on one knee in front of her sister's grave, bowed her head, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands together. She murmured a prayer to Kelemvor, some private personal words to her sister, and stood up. Arland was next up, and tried the same thing, but unlike Sybille, the other could hear a faint I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... Arland stepped back from the grave holding back tears.

:devil:

Quick! Someone play some axe-murderer music!

The Greys were just finishing up their own breakfast when Dri came downstairs, actually clothed this time. When she asked what they were doing, Arland was the first one to answer. "I gotta grab Sybille's new armor and hammer from the Inn. It was Hexol's bag, I think. Oh, you two are coming with me, by the way." He gestured to his siblings. "After than, I dunno." "I'll probably swing by the Ordains' place." Sybille answered casually. "Gotta talk with Marie." "What, alone? In Westgate?" Weyland asked her, concerned. "Brother, you're underestimating me." She grinned. "Oh right, I've got to introduce you and the Ordain sisters to the rest of them." Weyland recalled. "We can do that." Arland shrugged. "Wasn't talkin' to you. But yes, we can and will." "Guess your mother and I'll hold down the fort here." Dunsam added, more to himself than anything. Given the possible inclinations of pursuing such a conversation, no Grey bothered to respond. "Then after that..." Arland thought to himself for a second. "Say, Weyland, y'know down by the old well? Yes, that well." Weyland gave him a LOOK. "Yeah, we made you a bit of a memorial. I could show it to you." "If you...like, sure. I don't like the idea too much." Weyland looked uneasy. "Not going without me." Sybille interrupted. "Ethel's got a similar thing right beside yours. I'm going to pay my respects. Haven't had the chance to in a while." "I wonder if- Nah, she has enough on her mind." Weyland considered. "What?" "Nevermind. Let's head over to the Inn. I ought to grab my own armor and shield before someone stabs me in the back out in the streets. Let's go, then! Dri, you can stay here if you like or come along, your choice." Weyland declared, before barging out the front door without an answer. Arland and Sybille looked at each other and followed him. Westgate wasn't much better during the day than it was after nightfall. There were still shifty-looking characters, many of them obviously armed and trying to hide it. The city guards traveled in packs of two or three at least, and never strayed far from one-another. Some of them stared hard at Arland, faintly recognizing him from wanted posters, and he glared right back. They thankfully ran into no trouble with the Law, however, mostly due to it being years since Arland had faded from the minds of the people of Westgate. Weyland suggested they pick the Ordains up first, but Sybille shrugged and said that traveling with Arland and Marie at the same time was simply asking for trouble and that she'd bring them along later. "That reminds me, I gotta pay my bounty off." Arland muttered. "Sybille, when we're done here, we need to drop by the nearest city office." "Yup." When they reached it, Weyland shouldered the door open and Arland declared to nobody in particular that he was going to take the armor and maul he'd taken from Ivythariatryx's horde. Weyland, meanwhile, spoke aloud to the group. "Everyone, we've got someone new coming along with us. Meet my younger sister, Sybille Grey." "I can introduce myself, headcase." She punched him 'lightly' on the shoulder and almost sent him out a window. "Lad- uh, Rhaine gave me the offer to come along last night. And I must say,this looks and sounds like a lively bunch. I like it!"

"Mornin', Tak'We." Weyland greeted his friend as he came downstairs. "I know, right?" Arland responded to Tak'we casually as he complained about complicated speech. "We're not all geniuses." Weyland and Sybille once again glanced at Arland like he was completely crazy. After a minute, things seemed to return to normal. Arland didn't burst into the sudden use of several-syllable words and breakfast was just about ready. Both Weyland and Sybille wondered if they'd hallucinated Arland's sudden change in vocabulary, but then figured that if the other heard it, then clearly it actually happened. They began to relax, figuring it wouldn't get much more unusual than Arland speaking intelligently. It didn't, but things weren't quite back to normal yet. After all, when a groggy changeling walks downstairs in her underclothes, lectures Arland about drinking, piles a plate high with food, and then goes back to her room, it's a rather unexpected event. All three Greys looked at her like she was suddenly more insane than Arland was, looked at one-another to confirm that they were all seeing the same thing and Dri'd forgotten to dress herself, and then repeated the process two or three more times. "Uh....Audri?" Sybille asked. "You need me to buy you a nightgown next time I'm in the market?" "Well you two can complain all you like." Arland spoke up casually, before Weyland kicked him in the face and he flew backwards out of his chair. Then he turned to Sybille and explained, "She only seems to do that when there's bacon on. Can't resist the lure and damn the consequences, I guess." "Neither can the rest of us." Sybille countered with a grin. "Tak'We can't either." Weyland jerked a thumb towards the Thri'kreen. "Ow." Was Arland's thankfully non-intelligent response. When breakfast finished, gave himself a bowl of porridge and a generous serving of bacon (much to Arland's chagrin, though it was hard to take him seriously when a foot-shaped red mark covered his entire face.) and sat himself down beside Tak'We. Sybille elbowed Weyland. "I'm gonna have a little talk with you later." She smiled. "They were dead when I got there, I swear." Weyland said wittily. "Oh, it's nothing funny. Well, maybe it is. We'll find out." "Something tells me I'm not going to like this discussion..." Weyland sighed. Suddenly, Dunsam appeared at the bottom of the staircase, beard and hair messy. "So, what'd I miss?" "Nothing." All three Grey children said simultaneously.

Sweet, whole gang's back together now XD

Amendale left the house with Rhaine and walked quietly with her back to the Inn. When he got there, he couldn't help but gawk at the scene unfolding before him. He recognized Arva, but decided that now would not be a good time to disturb him and instead rented a room and went upstairs to bed, happy not to be sleeping in a hammock aboard a ship. Back at the Greys' household, Arland, now drunk, shambled off to bed. After stripping down to his underclothes, he slipped under the blankets the same bed he'd slept in before circumstance had forced the Greys from Westgate. How it survived the farm being burned down and years of neglect he didn't know, and he definitely didn't care. It felt to him like nothing bad had ever happened, and he fell asleep with a small smile on his face. Weyland, meanwhile, looking for somewhere to rest, took a spare blanket and pillow and set up shop on the huge couch in the family room. It was made to fit Dunsam and two others, so he had no problem finding enough space to sleep, even if it smelled faintly of bacon and beer. It took him about an hour, but he fell asleep. A scuffle from outside his room disturbed Amendale. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and donned his shirt and pants before looking outside the door. "What's going on?" He asked. When he saw Arva and Ianthe, as well as the same tiger-woman from last night, he raised an eyebrow. "Well, you two, long time no see!" He greeted Arva and Ianthe. "Where've you two been?" He looked up and, seeing the tiger-woman's bewildered expression, he shrugged and asked, "You know these two? They used to travel with my friends and I." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Weyland woke up before anybody else in the Grey household, yawned, and rubbed his neck. He stretched languidly and stood up, decided that he was hungry, and raided the pantry for food. In minutes, he had porridge and bacon on the go, and the spell began wafting throughout the house. This smell awoke Arland, who shambled downstairs, still with his mug in his hand, and sat down at the table. "Hurry up and cook it before the bacon fiends flock to this domicile and assault us with unparalleled bacon-lusty depravity." He said, still drunk from last night. His suddenly extensive use of semi-sophisticated vocabulary caught Weyland off-guard, and he nearly spilled the whole pot of porridge on himself. "Remember that you grabbed Sybiille some gear as a gift. Give that to her today." Weyland reminded him. "I will. Thanks." Just like that, the intelligent Arland was gone and replaced with the stupid one. Weyland sighed with relief. Everything was back to normal. "What was that about armor? And I smell bacon." Sybille declared as she came down the stairs wearing brown pants and a white short-sleeved shirt. "I got you some stuff from a dragon's hoard left over from this scow of a dragon that Tannin and Amendale took out." "Who's Tannin?" She asked, puzzled. "The resident chatterbox." Weyland answered. "I'll give it to you later." Arland told her. Sybille grinned. "You're sweeter than you let on sometimes." "While the sincere intentions of your compliment do fill my being with warmth and gratitude, I must regretfully inform you that such noble intentions are exclusive merely to those particularly close to myself metaphorically speaking." Arland replied casually, and both Weyland and Sybille looked at each other like the world was ending. "What?!?!" They both asked, incredulous. "Idunno. Must be something in the beer this mug gives me." Arland replied casually. "Don't worry, I'm not that smart."

"Yes. I'll come along." Annette answered Rhaine instantly before Marie could even process the question. "What? No! We can't run off on mother!" Marie vehemently denied. "Mother has friends, she won't be alone." Annette responded calmly. "And we're the only family she has in Westgate!" Marie continued. "I want to go and help." Annette looked her sister dead in the eye, showing that there would be no convincing her otherwise. Sybille looked at her approvingly. Marie stared hardly at Annette for almost a full minute, before sighing and caving in. "If Annette, goes, so do I. I have to help keep her safe. It's my responsibility. Even if I think it's not a wise decision on her part." "You sure you want to do this, Annette?" Sybille asked Annette, more for the sake of asking than actually needing to know the answer. "Yes." "Then it's settled. I'll talk with Gertrude in the morning. Don't worry, I think she'll be fine with it." On that note, the dinner began winding down. Dunsam talked animatedly with Tak'We about weapon preferences and his own liking axes over scythes while Annabelle supplied dessert and drinks, but soon it was getting quite late. Soon, when everybody was feeling full and tired, Dri brought up the question of staying overnight. "Yeah, we're staying." Weyland and Arland answered simultaneously. "Yeah, they're staying." Dunsam and Annabelle said simultaneously in response to Weyland and Arland's responding simultaneously. "I guess I'll meet the rest of the group tomorrow, eh Rhaine?" Sybille said to the Doomguide. "I still think Weyland took my mug." Arland pouted to himself. "Ma, we got a guest bed?" Weyland asked Annabelle. "Yep. We have a bed for Arland, too, just for when he came back. Upstairs, first door on the left." "Looks like I'm sleeping in the inn after all." Amendale shrugged. "Alright. Dri, guest bed's yours." "But then you've got nowhere to sleep." Dunsam noted. "I'll make do." Weyland answered simply. He caught Sybille shooting him a knowing, cheeky look from across the table and pointedly ignored her.

"You sure 'bout that?" Arland asked suspiciously. "I'm not." Weyland added. "I didn't see him do anything." Dunsam shrugged. "That's the point. You don't SEE him do anything. You just find a mountain of stuff in his pockets later." Arland countered. "Nah, nothing in there." Sybille agreed. "See for yourself." "That's not the point! Someone took my mug." Arland snatched the mug back up and made sure nobody touched it. "Who cares." Weyland yawned. "Who cares? I CARE! This magically refills itsel- Schtlarn, shouldn't have said that." "Really? Where can I get one?" Weyland asked. "Next time we run into a dragon's hoard." Arland remarked casually, and stood up. Faint shouting was heard from outside, and Sybille sighed. "Excuse me. I'll have to go talk with those two." She rubbed her hands over her face and left the house. "Looks like your being here's causing trouble." Weyland told Arland, and then added teasingly, "As per the usual." The Ordain sisters were a few feet from the front door, and a flustered and confused Annette was trying to calm a furious Marie, but didn't have any idea of what to say. "He doesn't have any right to be walking around free just because- because he throws a few coins at the guards!" The elder sister seethed. "Cool it, Marie." Sybille ordered firmly. "How am I supposed to cool it?" She demanded. "You know how it happened." "Yes, I do." Sybille responded coolly. "And I've forgiven Arland for acting brashly and getting Ethel killed. The whole Grey clan has. You need to forgive him for doing what he thought he had to do and murdering Ilen." There was no beating around the bush here. She was straight and to the point. "The whole Grey clan. Right. How are we even supposed to know that the new one- Weyland - isn't just as bad as Arland was?" "Stop asking stupid questions, Marie." Sybille frowned. "Just in case it isn't blatantly obvious that he's more like me- or, rather, I'm more like him - than he is even his own parents, does he look like he gives a damn that you're an Ordain or not? Come on, I can read him like an open book, you know how I am. Come back inside, enjoy a nice dinner, maybe make some friends." She shrugged. "The others that came in with 'em don't seem like such a bad lot, really. Hells, they seem like just our kind of people. They aren't a bad sort." Marie took a few moments to consider this. After several seconds, she pointed a finger at Sybille. "You'd better keep him in line." "I may not have to. He's terrified of his big brother and me. And when the Chosen walked in he almost fell backwards out of his seat." Sybille laughed. "Come on, Marie! Lighten up! This is a joyous occasion!" Marie didn't smile, but her face softened a little. "Fine. But only because it's you asking, Sybille." Sybille opened the door and gestured the two of them inside. Marie walked calmly back to the table and took her seat, apologizing again for her losing her temper. Sybille took Annette by the shoulder and said lowly in her ear, "I want you to make a friend or two tonight, Annie. If you come out of tonight with a new friend I'll buy you twice the alchemical supplies for a month." She smiled. Annette shot her a smile right back and sat beside her sister, glancing at everybody around the table. She felt a little intimidated, but an encouraging nod from Sybille made her feel more at home, and she started thinking to herself that Dri and Amendale seemed to be the kind of people she'd get along with. Sybille, meanwhile casually began to speak with Rhaine. "Sorry about the interruption there. To answer your question, I'm- ironically enough- a bounty hunter by trade. I work with those two-" She gestured to the Ordain sisters. "-and we usually manage to bring them in peacefully. Do some miscellaneous merc work on the side, mind you. Basic things like scare a few kobolds off, the works. Every now and again- not too often- officials from your church'll send us to clear out a few zombies or skeletons, but nothing major. Mostly bounty work, we make a good living bringing in ne'er-do-wells into the guard, sometimes makin' 'em change their ways. That doesn't mean we can't fight, though. Marie's a better shot than you might think, Annette's got some natural magical talent and is a great alchemist, and I'm essentially the muscle, but I try to talk things through when I can." "Sounds a bit like Amendale and I. A lot, actually. Merc work, bounty-hunting, me being the muscle while he was casting from behind." Weyland commented. "I'd say he's the voice of reason, though, not me." Amendale smirked. Annette, feeling a little more comfortable knowing that she wasn't the only sorcerer at the table, looked sideways at Amendale, who returned her gaze curiously. "Fellow magic-user, are you?" He asked her, and she nodded a little shyly. "What kind of magic?" "Transmutation." She responded quietly. "Useful stuff." Weyland interjected, before letting Amendale continue. "Been practicing it long?" Amendale asked. "Only a few years. I don't know too much." "Well, maybe I could teach you a few spells." He offered casually. "Might help you next time you're out on the job." "Couldn't hurt." Annette shrugged, and Sybille shot her a small sideways grin. "Just make sure you don't blow up the house." Annabelle butted in, before scanning the table. "Looks like we're going to need more dead birds to roast. Be right back." She vanished into the storage cupboard and came out with an armful of turkeys that she lumped into the oven to cook. Without even being asked, Amendale casually set them ablaze from the inside out and cooked them. Annabelle looked at him thankfully and put the four additional turkeys on the table. Dunsam whistled. "Now we're talkin'! Dig in, everyone!" He himself cut half of a turkey for himself using his massive battleaxe like it was the most casual thing in the world and began eating. "Well, now I see where you two get it." Amendale said to Weyland and Arland. "Snoring's all Ma, though." Arland stated casually, before glimpsing the enchanted(!!!) spoon and sinking down a little in his seat. Annabelle, instead of getting offended, laughed and said, "Yes, I'm rather obnoxious in my sleep. Your father can sleep right through it, though." Dunsam shrugged and replied, "Comes with experience." Before he turned to Tak'We and tried striking up a conversation. "So, Thri'Kreen-" "His name's Tak'We." Amendale corrected. "-Yeah, sorry, Tak'We. Where're ya from? Haven't seen much of your kind before, but anyone who lugs around a double-bladed scythe and befriends my sons can't be that bad." Annabelle, meanwhile, turned to Arland. "You've been well-behaved while you were away, haven't you?" "No." Arland answered sheepishly. "I'm still wanted in Shadowdale...and Iriaebor... and Hillsfar....and Highmoon..." Annabelle scowled. "You need to learn when to leave well enough alone. You've already landed yourself in enough trouble." "Hey! The were all situations like ours was!" He protested. "They can stay like that a little longer if it means I don't lose another child." Annabelle huffed.

MY TIGER IS BETTER Well that depends on perspective. She sounds like fun, though XD PS: Epic personality.

This isn't a fully-fledged character, but at the request of Stew I have made a character sheet for Elaril's animal companion, a Dire Tiger. Read if you wish XD Name: Kotarak GENERAL INFORMATION: Gender: Female Race: Dire Tiger Age: 10 Class: Animal Companion Alignment: True Neutral Deity: N/A, Elaril's the closest thing to a deity the tiger has. APPEARANCE: Height: Kotarak is massive, standing at 4'6" tall while on all fours, and twelve feet long. Weight: 5 500 pounds Hair: Her 'hair', or rather fur, is a dark burnt orange and specked with long black stripes that give her natural camouflage, which she puts to great effect. Her underbelly is white, but this is rarely seen. Eyes: Kotarak's eyes are orange and reflect light in a prism of colors. While completely in the dark, if some light is shown on them, they appear to glow an ominous yellow, but this merely an illusion. They do not glow on their own. Skin: Not visible beneath her fur. Handedness: Uh....Quadridextrous? Scars/Tattoos: Kotarak is covered in scars from previous engagements with both other tigers and from hunters. A vicious sword stroke at one point cleaved her left eye in half, but this was healed by Elaril Del'Ferrill's intervention and while the eye itself still bears the scar, Kotarak has learned to adapt and use her damaged eyesight. Three of what used to be arrow holes punctured her side and left pink circular scar tissue where they hit. Her flank has six claw scars total, one on the small of her back and one on the right side of her flank, behind her hip, from attempts via males to commit infanticide on her young and her own defending them. General physical description: A massive specimen for a female tiger, Kotarak is incredibly strong, tough, and fast, being a tiger and all. Being a Dire Tiger, she has sharp bone-like spikes jutting out of her back at a rearwards angle, looking like blades of grass while camouflaged. Whiel walking or running, like many big cats, her muscles are clearly visible at work, adding to an intimidating appearance. When combined with her massive two fron teeth, which protrude from her mouth and reach her chin, her appearance alone is enough to strike fear into the hearts of those not of a fighting inclination, and most that are. Voice: She can growl, roar, and yowl, but otherwise she doesn't tend to be very vocal. Disabilities: Nothing physical. Hates bows and crossbows, metallic weapons to a lesser extend, but Elaril's commands overwhelm her murderous desire upon seeing such weapons. As she never leaves Elaril's side, this is never a problem. EQUIPMENT: Clothing/Armor: Nothing. She has fur. Weapons: Her claws, teeth, and muscles. Other magical equipment: None PERSONALITY: General personality traits: Being a creature, Kotarak doesn't have a personality in the same sense as a person might. But she is intelligent enough to recognize friends from enemies and can even reognize Elaril if she is in a form besides her natural one, even if she's disguised as prey. She also, ironically, has some traits similar to a housecat, like her enjoyment of milk and being stroked. She is a wild animal at her heart, though, and will still attack if threatened, hunt what it perceived to be prey, and not give a damn about good or evil. However, past experiences with hunters have led her to naturally wish to attack anyone with a metallic weapon, armor, or a bow, and only if stopped by Elaril will she fail to do so. Likes: Cat stuff. Food, warm spots in the sun, resting, hunting, milk, and being petted (but only by Elaril.) Dislikes: Bows, crossbows, metallic weapons, infanticide. Fears: Bows, crossbows, metallic weapons. Attitude towards friends/strangers: If you're not Elaril, another druid, or another tiger, you're probably food or not worth her time. Opinion on the world: N/A, animalistic instincts. HISTORY: Birthplace: The Shaar Family/Relationships: One surviving male cub, four cubs (deceased) Friends: Elaril Del'Ferrill Enemies: Her prey, hunters, most civilized beings. Background: Being an ordinary Dire Tiger, Kotarak was born and raised like any other Dire Tiger was. She had cubs when she was about four years old, and when they were 6 months old, Kotarak took down a pair of travelers on the road in order to meet the demands of her increasingly-ravenous cubs. This provoked an act of revenge from a nearby village, and hunters pursued her and her young deep into the Duskwood using fire and loud noises to make themselves appear much mighter than they were. Eventually she and her cubs were cornered and Kotarak was forced to fight back. She single-handedly eliminated five out of the eight of them, but was severely wounded and her strength flagging by that point. Elaril, who had been invetigating the noises and tracking the hunters, intervened and slaughtered the remaining three without mercy. By the end of the encounter, four out of five cubs had been killed, and Elaril had to heal Kotarak to prevent her eventual death from the multiple wounds she received. Normally Elaril's belief in the idea of 'survival of the fittest' would have her leave the beast to die, something about the situation softened her heart, and she made sure to keep hunters away from Kotarak and her sole remaining cub until the cub had matured and moved away from its mother, occasionally interacting with the great tiger herself, and eventually forming an unshakeable mutual bond. Kotarak hasn't abandoned Elaril- even to breed- ever since. OTHER INFORMATION: Languages spoken: She can understand Sylvan. Otherwise she speaks tiger. It's a language now. Pets/Animal companions: Elaril's the closest she has. Given how feral Elaril is in the first place, she's not too far off from an animal.

Arland sighed and looked at Rhaine. "Actually...I think those were both of his daughters. Whatever, I'll talk to them tomorrow, pay off the bounty too. Least I can do." Sybille looked at Rhaine and shrugged. "Simply 'Rhaine' it is, then." She agreed. Once she finished listening to Rhaine's warnings about the evil they would face, she grinned and said, "I can handle that. Not many baddies can take a hit from this." She patted her maul, which was resting up against a wall. "And if they can? Well, I hit them again. If that doesn't work, there's always aid from friends." Arland went to take a drink from his mug, only to grasp thin air. "Alright, hold up, where's my mug?" "Dunno." Weyland answered simply, and Arland stared at him accusingly. "What? I don't know where it went." "Right." Arland got up and heavily scrutinized Weyland's entire section of the table, before finding said mug beneath his seat. "You DID steal it!" He made to punch Weyland's nose in, before he tripped over his own boots and fell on his face. Weyland, moving to move his head out of the way, tripped sideways, slammed his face into the wall, and then landed hard on the stone floor. "Ow!" He shouted. "What just happened?" Arland asked. "Someone untied our laces." Weyland answered. "Nah you just can't tie to save your life." "They were double-knotted! Of course somebody untied them!" Weyland protested, throwing his own accusing looks at everyone on the table. Rhaine wouldn't, Annabelle and Dunsam wouldn't, the Ordain girls had left....wait, Hexol was here? "Hexol! Did you do this? You little bugger, you totally did!" "Should punt ya into the river!" Arland growled. "He's a child!" Sybille protested. "No he's not. He's a Kender." Weyland stated matter-of-factly, and Sybille's expression turned to one of sheer horror. "Oh, don't worry. He knows that if anything 'falls' into his pockets then he's going for a swim." Weyland reassured her. All the while, they were totally unaware that Dri was the true culprit.

When the giant sack of coins thumped on the table in front of Arland's face, he looked at Rhaine and studied her carefully. This entire offer caught him completely off-guard, and he sat there in silence for several second. "Wait, you're serious?" He asked her incredulously. "...even with Ilen's child sitting right here?" He nodded his head towards Marie, whose face openly displayed her viewing this as a personal affront, though her common sense told her not to blame Rhaine. "....She is, Arland." Sybille told him, and Weyland came to the same conclusion and nodded. "Well, uh..." He was at a loss for words. "...Thanks. Really, I mean it. I'll combine this with what little coin I collected from that dragon's horde and pay it off. Then I guess....well, I don't know what to do afterwards." Marie, without a word, stood up and stormed out of the house, while Annette sat there, wondering whether to go after her. She looked questioningly at Sybille, who gave a subtle dip of her head, and she left as well. "Well, I know I'm sticking around with her." Weyland stated casually. "Wouldn't forgive myself if they went into some hole in the Shaar and got themselves killed. And they just might do that without me there to piss 'em off and draw the baddies' fire onto me." He grinned, before looking at Dunsam and Annabelle and saying apologetically, "Hey, I'm still happy as the hells to be here. But they're out doing good, figure I might as well do so too." "That's fine." Annabelle shrugged. "Do what you love to do. You always were gonna move out eventually." She looked as if the entire statement didn't bother her at all, as did Dunsam, who pointed at her and nodded. As Hexol began nagging at her again and again, she repressed hitting what she thought was a child with the spoon, and instead humoured him. "Practice on these two miscreants is how I got so good." She smiled and pointed at Weyland and Arland. "'Specially Arland. No need to pull out that fork, though. Unless you wanna eat something." "This's got me interested." Sybille declared. "I'll have to check out this big band of people you got going, I might sign myself up. If Marie and Annette agree to come along too, anyway. Say, Lady Rhaine? I figure that's an appropriate manner with which to address Kelemvor's Chosen. Would you like to stay for dinner? Least we can do to thank you for hauling Arland's behind out of that mess with the bounty." "Yeah, stay a while!" Weyland cheered. Arland looked at her with a rare sincere look, and said, "Yeah, you're welcome to. Can sit beside me, if you like."

As the conversations and laughter began to roar back up again and everybody began digging into the food in earnest, Sybille and Annabelle heard knocking on the door. Motioning to her mother to not bother, Sybille went and answered the door herself. She found someone at the door she'd never seen before. Now normally when strangers appeared at the door and the 6'3", fully-armoured Sybille answered the door, they tended to be a little intimidated. But this stranger wasn't the type, and it was immediately obvious. Normally, black armor, matching wings and a nasty-looking blade would have Sybille expecting trouble, but again, this one was an exception. The symbol of Kelemvor on her amulet reassures her some as well. "Hey there." She began. "Can I help ya?" Arland's mood took a turn for the worse, even more so than it already was. "By Tempus, speak of a devil and one shall appear..." "Rhaine!" Weyland greeted her. "Didn't think I'd see you coming out to the family gathering! Come on in!" "Neither could I." Arland mumbled. "Know her, do ya?" Sybille shot Weyland a questioning look. He nodded, and she moved aside and saw Rhaine in. "Well, welcome to the Grey household. I'm Sybille Grey, that's my father Dunsam, and my mother, Annabelle. Seems you're familiar with Arland and Weyland already." She shot Rhaine a toothy grin. "We just sat down to dinner if you'd like to join us." "If you're here with the town guard tell 'em to shove off." Arland said wearily. "If not, make yourself at home. Think you'll get along with her just fine." He jerked a thumb towards Marie, who glared at him. He glared right back. "Probably with Sybbie here too." Weyland added helpfully, cuffing Arland upside the head as Sybille shot him a threatening look.

Expanded on my second post there. Just a whole bunch of dinner conversation, mostly there for flavor more'n'anything XD but still, hopefully it makes it a bit more interesting to read.

"Sounds great." Weyland grinned eagerly. Once Tak'We and Dri introduced themselves, he nodded his head towards them. "Don't mind the voices in your head,- Arland, I'm looking at you- Audri can't talk, so she has to use this trinket Amendale found. And Tak'We's a Thri'kreen, so don't let the hissing startle ya." "Good thing I got us some bread this morning." Sybille said absentmindedly. "We're back." Came a female voice, fairly deep but young. "Captain of the Guard said that he should have some more work later in the week." "Whaddaya mean the Captain of the bloody Guard?!?!" Arland asked, alarmed. "Who in the hells is that?" Sybille looked over her shoulder at the voice's source. There were two young women that had just walked in the door, both of them with nut-brown skin and bright hazel eyes, quite short and light. The eldest of the two was the one who'd spoken, and wore a set of light armor and had a bow, arrows, and a pair of forearm-length curved knives visible on her. She walked with a visible limp, and one of her legs had very obviously been broken and hadn't healed properly. The youngest wore simple brown leather pants, a loose long-sleeved shirt, and a hooded cloak. "Who's that?" "Marie, Annette!" Sybille greeted them quietly, and turned to face them. "We've had a few surprise friends pop in." She reported to the two of them, with a tinge of nervousness in her voice. "What's wrong?" Marie asked, placing her hand on her bow. "Who're you talking to?" Arland asked suspiciously, standing up and pushing by Sybille before she could explain things. "Who're you two? Wait, wait, wait a second...." Marie snapped her bow off of her shoulder, nocked an arrow, and pointed it at Arland's face before he could get his swords halfway out of their sheathes. Arland was already in the process of moving to dodge where the arrow would come flying at him if it flew, but Sybille pulled him into a headlock to restrain him just as Weyland came flying through the air and tackled Marie to the ground, sending her bow skittering across the floor. "You shoot him and we have a problem." Weyland told Marie calmly as she glared daggers at him. "Let go of my sister." Annette ordered with as much authority as she could muster. Weyland saw her hands flare with magic before Amendale's Hold Person spell hit her square in the chest and she froze rigidly in place. "Please don't hurt my friend." Amendale asked her amicably. "That's enough, Arland." Sybille commanded sternly, easily overpowering his attempts to worm his way out of the headlock. "She pointed the bow at me!" He exclaimed. "You see this scar on my face? That little brat gave it to me!" Marie looked Weyland straight in the eye and said, "He beheaded my father, broke my leg and hit my mother. You want to keep defending him?" Suddenly, a wooden spoon hit the wall at hypersonic speeds, actually chipping a fist-sized chunk of brick out of the wall. Both Grey brothers cried out with panic and tried to dive for cover. Everybody else froze. "CUT IT OUT!" Annabelle shrieked, and the spoon flew back into her hand. "Oh gods, Weyland, it's enchanted now! It's enchanted!" Arland breathed. "Damn right it is." Annabelle declared. "Everybody sit down at the dinner table. Now." Without a word, Weyland released Marie, Sybille released Arland, and Amendale dispelled the Hold Person spell on Annette, having never left his chair. Dunsam grinned as Annabelle got a fire going in the stove and shoved in two entire turkeys. Then she put the bread and a knife on the table and a brick of butter. "Arland, there's a few things that've changed since you left." Sybille began speaking, earning unspoken permission to do so from her mother. "Marie, Annette and their mother are our friends now. They're nice people. Ilen wasn't." Arland's eye twitched. "I have an idea." Weyland declared loudly, interrupting everybody else. "How about we enjoy a nice dinner? As a reunited family with friends?" When Arland tried to protest, both Weyland and Sybille simultaneously glared at him and cracked their knuckles threateningly, before looking bemusedly at each other. Marie and Annette sat down. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Grey." Marie apologized. "Shouldn't have acted rashly, I hope you can forgive me." "It's fine, dear." Annabelle answered. "Arland has his big brother and sister to stop him from doing anything stupid." "Damn straight." Weyland and Sybille replied at exactly the same time, before they looked at each other and grinned. Arland groaned. "Man, when I said you two were alike, I wasn't wrong..." He took a swig from his tankard before he thumped his head down onto the table. Amendale looked at the loaf of bread on the table, and then considered the number of people it would be feeding. He stood up, mostly for show rather than an actual need to do so. "While we wait on the turkey..." He looked at Annabelle questioningly. "I'd imagine there are rules against casting spells at the dinner table...?" He asked. He'd grown up with such rules in place, his parents being picky about manners as they were. "Er... No." Weyland answered. "Nah, don't worry about it." Was Sybille's response. "Go ahead, no problem." Annabelle answered. Arland mumbled something unintelligible into the table. A quick movement and a few words and suddenly a variety of basic fruits and vegetables appeared on the tabletop, enough to tide everybody over until the meat was cooked. The simple pewter cups that Annabelle had placed on the table earlier filled with clear water. Annette looked at Amendale oddly and smiled a little bit. "Go nuts." Amendale grinned and sat down. "Automatic appetizers! I like this elf!" Dunsam declared, before grabbing some grapes. Weyland sat down beside Tak'We. "So, did I tell ya these were your kind of people or what?" He asked, grinning broadly. "Except the scuffle a second ago, anyway." Sybille, meanwhile, sat herself beside Marie and Annette, keeping an eye on Arland. "They were here when I got back." She shrugged. "Guess it was a surprise visit blessed by Lathander himself." "I wouldn't call Arland Grey a blessing from Lathander." Marie retorted, as she glared at Arland and he glared right back. "The....other one, though. He seems nice enough." "He's a lot like you." Annette chimed in, a bit timidly. "You two are practically twins." "You know I can hear you three, right?" Weyland inquired with raised eyebrows. "It's Weyland, by the way. Not 'The Other One', catchy as that may be. First-born out of us fo-" He caught himself, before nonchalantly continuing. "-us three. Makes me Sybbie's big brother." He grinned at his sister. "Big in a metaphorical sense." Amendale interjected. "She looks like she could toss you around like a doll." "I like your friend here, Weyland." Sybille echoed the disposition of her father. "So, Arland-" Dunsam began. "Where'd you find him?" "Shadowdale." Arland answered. "Saved by hide from some drow scow I pissed off. She's dead now, mind you. Dracolich roasted her alive. Took out one of Rhaine's friends with the same blast, too." "Who's Rhaine?" Dunsam asked quizzically. "Oh. We're all here as part of a larger group. This doesn't even account for half of us. She's the leader." "And a damn fine one at that!" Weyland interjected, before going back to talking animatedly with everybody at the table, even the Ordains. "...And she's aloof as the hells. Thinks her moral compass is the only moral compass that matters. Long story short, she saw fit to force me to stay with the group or else she'd turn me in to the authorities to be executed just because she's not too big on vigilantism." Dunsam frowned, but nodded and kept on eating. "Well, ya brought Weyland back, so good on ya." "Even though it was us saving you, and not the other way around." Amendale sniped as he secretly roasted turkeys faster with magic. In the space of a minute, the smell of well-cooked bird wafted through the entire house. Annabelle clued in immediately, and called Amendale out for his cheekiness in front of the entire table, much to his embarrassed dismay. However, the turkey was quickly served, letting the meal begin in earnest.

Right then, this doesn't mark a triumphant return on my part or anything, but I was on for the night XD don't let the long post dissuade anyone from going along with Weyland, Arland, and Amendale to meet the rest of the Greys, though, you're all welcome to participate there, of course. I just made a huge post just to cover several posts' worth in a single one just in case I'm not on for another while yet. I'll try to keep caught up here, and if I'm lucky I can slip in a post or two, but it'll be slow-going from me for a while. P.S: Sorry if that post length melted your brains :laugh: P.S.S: I think this song'll suit this situation just fine.

Weyland went absolutely ballistic the instant he spotted Westgate miles upon miles off into the distance, cheering until he was raw in the throat and then watching it with wide eyes as it grew steadily closer. Arland eventually joined him, already well on his way to getting drunk with the help of Dagny's everfull mug. "Ha! We're almost home!" Weyland cheered. "Yup!" Arland agreed happily. "I kinda....'member where they live too. I can lead...you. There." He wasn't drunk yet, but he was close. The instant he could get his feet on the dock, Weyland vaulted off the boat and only resisted tearing down the pier at top speeds to wait for Arland, who shakily got off the boat and wobbled on his legs, drunkenness combined with adapting to the rocking of the ship doing absolutely nothing at all to help his usually-stellar coordination. "Hold on...hold up!" Arland hiccuped. "I'm near-drunk, y'see. Can't walk right." "Hurry. The hells. Up." Weyland ordered. "Say, anyone wanna come meet the rest of the Greys?" He asked loudly. "Tak'We? They're all your type of people, you'll like them just fine. Amendale, I'm not giving you a choice, you're coming along. Dri? How 'bout you?" "Oh her..." Arland stumbled. "She'll like Ethel. Just like her." He yelped as he fell into the water, where Weyland fished him out. He clutched the everfull mug in a death grip. "Rhaine, I think you'll get along with Sybille just fine." Weyland offered, hauling Arland to his feet. "Either way, offer stands for all of ya!" Weyland declared. "Yes, Hexol, even you. Anything 'falls into your pockets', though, and I'm giving you a dunk in the ocean." Amendale smirked and quietly followed along, mentioning to Rhaine that he was going with them in case they got into trouble. And with that, Arland led his brother deep into Westgate. Despite his by-now drunken state and years since he'd last visited, Arland still knew Westgate like the back of his hand. It came back slowly to Weyland, and he was still uncertain about where they were until they stepped into the markets where they used to buy food from as children, back when their mother had some colour in her hair. "Oh hey, now I know where we are!" Weyland announced with a grin. "We live where the Sings used to." Arland stated. "Moved out before I did, though." "Sings... Sings..." Weyland ran through as many faces and names as he knew. "We used to play war with them as kids, dummy." Arland hiccuped again. "Oh right, them!" "Yep. We live there now." Arland looked at Weyland, grinned, and walked up to the door. He rapped on it three times with excitement. Weyland, suddenly feeling butterflies in his stomach, stood off to the side behind Arland. Amendale stood beside him. Silence. Then, immediately, heavy footsteps grew louder and louder until at least two or three latches were unlocked from inside and the door opened. Within the doorframe stood a giant bear of a man almost seven and a half feet tall, with a long black beard streaked with grey and white running down to the top of his stomach. His face was knarled and wrinkly, his eyes the same ordinary green as Arland's. He was very muscular and obviously incredibly strong, but he had a pot belly to match. He held a double-edged battleaxe just as big as he was like a walking stick. "Yeah, what?" He asked, his voice more of a thunderous rumble than anything human. He squinted a little, Arland's face unclear in the darkness of night. "Why're you armed?" He added threateningly. "Pa, it's Westgate. Why would I not be armed?" His mashed-potato of a face brightened up. "Arland!" He boomed. "How ya been!" "Shuddup!" Arland snapped in a whispered tone. "I dunno if they're still after my head around here." "Let 'em come." Dunsam Grey waved off Arland's concerns. "They wouldn't dare. ANNABELLE!" He barked. "C'mere! Someone at the door for us!" Arland and Weyland both subconciously tensed up. "Who would POSSIBLY be up and about at this time of night?" She fussed as she poked her head out from behind Dunsam, who moved aside. "Hi ma!" Arland greeted her cheerfully while Weyland shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Arland, dear!" She smiled from ear to ear and hugged him tightly, nearly breaking his spine. "Brought guests!" He wheezed. "So I see." Dunsam rumbled. "Welp, who are you two?" Arland grinned like a devil. "Well, the Moon Elf's name is Amendale. He's the one that keeps us patched up, even if he's a bit too soft-hearted for me." He grabbed Weyland by the lapels of his shirt and dragged him into what little light there was, revealing some of his face. "Guess who!" 'Given that Weyland and Arland were very nearly identical, with only subtle differences like different-coloured eyes, hair, and Arland's stubble, it only took the two of them a second or two to figure it out. Weyland nearly knocked Arland senseless, but Annabelle's exclamation of joy reddened his cheeks and she gave him an even tighter hug than she'd given Arland, and Weyland almost saw his life flash before his eyes. Dunsam smiled surprisingly warmly and clapped him on the shoulder so hard he almost knocked Weyland out. "Ack! Mum, too...tight!" He managed to squeeze out. Arland smiled so widely he looked like a different person, and even Amendale couldn't resist a broad grin. "Weyland Grey!" Arland announced belatedly. "Y'know, the first one mum squeezed out." He got a whap upside the head that knocked him on his rump from the combined might of Annabelle, Weyland, and even Amendale. Dunsam laughed and clapped Amendale on the back, knocking the wind out of him. "I like this elf already!" Dunsam laughed. "Come inside, all of ya!" Without much of a choice, he took them inside and sat them down at the dinner table. It was a surprisingly spacious house, though it was likely so to accomodate Dunsam's size more than anything. But Weyland and Arland noticed something that bothered them: It was mostly empty. Not of furnishings, but of people. "Hey, where're Ethel'n'Sybille at?" Arland asked. "Sybille's out with Marie and Annette." Annabelle said matter-of-factly. "Ethel's.....Well, Ethel's not with us anymore." Weyland recoiled in his seat. "What? She moved out, or...?" "Plague took her on the way to Waterdeep." Ethel explained sadly. The brothers sat there in shock, identical expressionless faces staring at the table in front of them. Amendale looked troubled, and patted Weyland on the shoulder reassuringly, for what it was worth. "B-b-but-" Arland stammered, suddenly stone-cold sober. "I murdered Ilen to keep you all safe...!" He slammed a fist into the table. "DAMMIT! This wasn't how it was supposed to play out!" The younger brother's eyes glistened with tears. Weyland heard him curse the Ordains' name under his breath as he covered his face with his hands. "I guess there's...well, there's nothing any of us can do about it now." Weyland stated huskily. "We can mourn later." "Listen to your brother, Arland, he's got a brain between those ears." Annabelle instructed. Arland sighed and ran his hands down his face before setting them back on the table. "Yeah." He took a long swig of the everfull tankard. Dunsam sat down in the massive chair occupying the far end of the table that neither Grey brother dared touched. "So, Weyland, where've you been all this time?" He asked, rapidly changing the topic with a twitch of his beard." "All over the place. But I'd prefer not to get into it." The eldest answered swiftly. "You said Sybille's still around?" "Yep." Dunsam answered. "Got a lot of friends around the city. She looks a lot like you, actually. Keeps the company of those Ordain girls, but they're alright by me." Arland, oblivious to the mention of the Ordains, continued drinking. "When will she be back?" Weyland asked, before he smiled smally. "I'd imagine I'll be a bit of a surprise." "Depends on if she's taking a bounty job or not." Annabelle answered in Dunsam's stead. "The three of them work together. Usually hunting some bandit or another, hauling them in alive so the guard can slap 'em in irons. Could be back in a few minutes or not until tomorrow." Weyland, beginning to cheer up, smiled a bit more widely. "I guess we're all alike." "No surprises there, my boy." Annabelle responded. "She filled in your shoes when you were gone. A real big sister, alright." Arland, who had suddenly come back to his senses, agreed. "She's a lot like you, now that I think about it. Kinda funny, she used to kick our asses senseless, remember?" Weyland guffawed. "Yeah, I remember. Keeping you in line's my job these days." "Of course I play a hand in that." Amendale smirked. "What about you, elf?" Dunsam asked. "He's my best friend." Weyland answered. "Known him longer'n'anyone else in the group we came in with. Hauled me out of hot spots aplenty, known each other for years now." "I've got a good two hundred years on him, mind you." Amendale interjected with a sly grin. "Old fart." Weyland snarked back. "You make these two look young." He pointed to his parents. That was when the wooden spoon of death suddenly appeared in Annabelle's hands. "What was that, boy?" She asked. "Nothing." Weyland answered quickly, wishing he'd thought to bring his shield. But then again, he wasn't sure enchanted mithral would be able to withstand the force with which his mother could throw that spoon. "Good." Annabelle grinned cheekily and put the spoon down. Weyland cursed that the dreaded spoon had survived all these years of what he was sure was heavy use. Suddenly, the front door boomed open and slammed against the wall. Weyland jumped and reached for his blade, while Arland casually took another drink of whatever alcohol was in his tankard at the time. Very heavy footsteps clanked on the stone floor. "Home, mother!" Sybille Grey declared, walking through the kitchen door. Even at first glance, Sybille was massive compared to most women. Standing at over six feet tall and obviously in fantastic shape, she wore extremely heavy-looking platemail armor overtop a thick suit of chainmail and moved around in it with ease, and she had a huge maul casually leaned onto her shoulder about six feet long in length. She didn't wear a helmet, and with light brown hair and striking blue eyes, the resemblance between her and Weyland was quite obvious. "Other two'll be back in a minu-" She was suddenly aware that they had guests. "Hey, I didn't know we were having guests tonight!" She looked at Annabelle, puzzled. "Hey, Sybbie." Weyland teased, grinning. "What he said." Arland pointed at Weyland. "Hello." Amendale greeted simply. Sybille took a moment, looking at Weyland and Arland, before she placed her warhammer against the wall and crushed them with bear hugs. "Hey, you two! Been a little while!" "Just a bit." Weyland breathed. "What he said." Arland wheezed, before Sybille released them and they plopped back into their chairs. "This is Amendale." Weyland introduced quickly. "Nice to meet ya." Sybille smiled warmly at him. "Sorry I'm still in this armor-probably still got blood on it somewhere- but I wasn't expecting to walk in to either of you. Especially you, Weyland!" She stared with mock accusement at him. Weyland grinned at her. "Where you BEEN since you were ten?" "Calim desert, Waterdeep, the Anauroch, Neverwinter, Impiltur, and every bar between 'em." He grinned. "Sounds like we got some catching up to do." Sybille stated. "How 'bout we get some food on the go? We're all starvin', I'd imagine."

Weyland tried- and utterly failed- to catch Dri as she fell, but missed by a second and nearly sent himself flying overboard. Cursing, and hoping nobody witnessed the complete and total lack of grace and control that nearly sent him swimming, (Proverbially. He wasn't a very good swimmer.) he helped her to her feet. "You alright?" He asked, mildly concerned, though he didn't expect a head bump to cause that much damage. She began speaking, and while they weren't in the thick of combat and Weyland could read her lips just fine, he still motioned for her to pause once she finished a sentence. "Hey, that reminds me... Hold on a sec, wouldja?" He asked, and ran down into the ship before she could answer. He remembered that earlier on the voyage Amendale had sat down and inspected several pieces of jewelry that he'd taken from Ivy's treasure horde. Then, very late last night, he'd told Weyland that one of them was an Amulet of Telepathy and that he ought to give it to Dri so she could communicate more effectively. When he reached Amendale's room, Weyland shoulder it open loudly and then asked with an equally loud volume, "Hey, Amendale, where's that amulet from last night?" Amendale, shaken from a light sleep, scowled at Weyland's sudden intrusion but pointed to a sack on a bolted-down table. "Silvery amulet, sapphire in the middle." "Right, thanks." Weyland rummaged through the bag, pulled out the amulet Amendale had described, and then tied the bag back shut and rushed back upstairs. Amendale grinned cheekily, wondering what all the rush was about, before nodding back off. Climbing up the stairs back out to the outer deck, Weyland walked back up to Dri and thrust the amulet at her. "Here, put this on. Amendale found it. It's an amulet of telepathy, it'll let you talk to people with your mind or something. Better than all this lip-reading." Dri, seemingly puzzled, took it and put it on. Once she figured out how to operate it, she telepathically sent Weyland the long story about how she'd discovered her true form, how she considered her human form to be her true form, and what the mirror did. He 'listened' intently, shaking his head when she asked him if he was angry. "Nah, I ain't angry. Why would I be?" He shrugged. "I don't let looks bother me. Don't see why you should, either." He grinned hugely. "Hells, Dri, I come from a long line of ugly mugs. Us Greys? We ain't pretty people! I mean you got Arland for a sample, but you haven't seen our father yet. Face like it was mashed by an ogre, I'm tellin' ya." He laughed and sarcastically added, "Obviously I'm the exception. The shining example of chiseled jawlines and perfect hair amongst a family of hobgoblins. Along with being the toughest and by far the smartest. But I'm sure that much is obvious already." He looked at her cheekily. "In all seriousness, though. I don't mind. And considering that we travel with the likes of Arland and Xallistine, I don't think anyone else'll care if you turn grey either." Arland, meanwhile, took a giant swig from Dagny's mug of ale and finished it off, cringing ever-so-slightly at the burning sensation. He slammed it back down on the table... ...just in time to see it fill up again. To any spectators, even blind ones, it was obvious that Arland had just made the discovery of his life. His pupils grew until there was little visible green left in his eyes, which went wide as saucepans, and he gasped. Then he cheered, downed it, and watched it fill up yet again. "AHA! I like this! Where'd you get it?!?! Where can I get one?!?! Can I keep this?!?!" He threw barrage after unhealthily-excited barrage of questions relating to the mug to Dagny. The noise actually woke Amendale- who was a floor below them and on the far side of the ship- for a second time, and he considered showing Arland a piece of his mind before deciding that the hammock was just too comfortable and falling back asleep again.

The six days on the ship didn't fit too well with the food-loving Grey brothers, who had between the two of them not been on a ship before the previous voyage. They managed to hold everything down well enough to digest it (which on its own was much better than Dagny was doing.) but spent most of their time above-deck just in case. While Arland was up there just so he wouldn't have to clean it up if he hurled, Weyland was simply anxious. He knew that they wouldn't even so much as see land for several more days, but he paced back and forth on the deck, out of his armor for once, and anxiously awaited the very instant Westgate would appear on the horizon. Occasionally he'd help the crew do some of the less-specialized tasks like heavy lifting and securing items to the deck, but when he wasn't needed, he was pacing restlessly on the outer deck, rolling his sleeves up to withstand the heat. Oftentimes he'd talk with whoever happened to be up there with him, which was usually Dri, as she spent more time above deck than he did. This was one of those cases. "How in the hells do you get used to this so quickly? Every halfway-big wave we hit makes my insides churn. Less time we spend on boats on this damned quest, the better." He asked absentmindedly, not really expecting an answer. After a few moments of silence (what with Dri being mute and all.) he spoke again, in a quieter tone. "So uh...you turn grey every time you wake up, or is this specific Grey just special?" He grinned devilishly, hoping to throw her for a loop. Arland was below deck sitting at the same table as Dagny and drinking some sort of alcoholic beverage. When he finished, he put it down and asked her, "That mug of yours have anything in it? 'Cause I'll finish it off. Better'n'getting my own." He pointed to her everfull tankard, having no idea what it was. Amendale, meanwhile, simply laid in a hammock, asleep.