Forearmed is Forwarned Part 2

Schara says, “There are many bad things that can happen, but I will do my best not to worry about them, since you both are as well." Schara answers, patting Aelwyn and Warrick on the shoulder, before settling back down into the carriage.

Down the road the carriage continued, the road growing significantly rougher with less use. The green in the distance turning to row upon row of aged trees, the green the numerous buds of spring growth quickly appearing.

Off on one side of the road after some time passed was a large hand cart, filled to the brim with mulch. A relatively tall(for their kind) elf was shoveling it around one of the many trees, with light brown hair and skin darkened from working outdoors. The elf adjusted their hat before the cart was too close, and their hand twitched slightly to the quiver of arrows on one of their hip. "Not expecting any deliveries today and this is private property, unless you have reason to be here or you're in real need, I'd like to ask you kindly to leave." They call over. <Sildanyari>”

GAME: Warrick rolls linguistics: (17)+5: 22

Warrick shrugs towards Schara, turning his attention out the window once more as he was ready to get moving, save for the helmet tucked under his arm. Seeing as they were slowing, he spies the sun tanned outdoorsman none too far off the main road. "Peace. I don't speak Sildanyar, apologies," Warrick manages to rotely say, as if it was practiced from a book as he holds his hands up in the window, showing they were empty. <sildanyari>

He leans out some, squinting against the falling sun. "Speak trade? We're looking for uh..." he glances back to Schara. Then back to the man. "... sorry, I don't know the family name. But we're friends of Schara. Looking for their mother and father."

Aelwyn spent his time staring at the landscape, before the wagon started to slow down. Curious, he leans to look at the other man. The twitch near the quiver is noted, and he slowly lowers his glaive out of sight.

"This one speaks not thine tongue," The draconian warns Schara. "Anything we should know?"

"Eh? Must've come far out if you aren't speaking sildanyari." The man responds, tipping their hat and looking a bit suspiciously at the travelers. A suspicion which is quickly broken when the guard mentions being friends with Schara, and the break out into a broad grin. "Ah, sorry for the icy welcome! Any friends of Schara are welcome here. Sorry, my tradespeak isn't the best, I haven't practiced it much in the last ninety years. They should both be in for the evening, now."

What answer Schara was about to give Aelwyn was cut off abruptly, as the artificer jerks up from the back of the carriage, peeking out the back, but not risking leaping out of the moving vehicle. "Tylas it is so wonderful to see you and see that you're alright!" They rattle off quickly in sildanyari, almost leaning completely out the back. "Mom and Dad are back home? Can we go see them now? I would ask if you need help with the mulch but we have more pressing matters at the moment."

"Mmm, again, sorry, we just- ah, no worries then, I don't fare much better any in any others myself," Warrick smiles back before, having to hold himself against the frame, the artificer's weight making the vehicle bounce around.

He reflexively grabs the back of Schara's armor to help keep them in. "I only caught a quarter of that, but uh, yeah. We should get going if you want to hop in, seein' how its gettin' late and all."

Aelwyn bows his head towards the man, and then reaches out as well to grab Schara. It makes him lean also towards the exit of the carriage. "It is good to be excited to see family, is it not?" He rumbles in amusement, and clicks his teeth. "... at least this one hopes that is what are the words being spoken."

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to upset the cart or anything doing that." Schara apologizes, managing to lean back and take a seat in the cart. The elf near the road grunts and tosses the shovel they were using into the barrow that was nearby, and they jogged over to the cart, jumping in the back and immediately grabbing the artificer into a hug that would likely crush someone not wearing armor. "Good to see you too, Schara! It's been much too long since you've been out here. Is that the Prosthesis you've been working on? No surprises you got it figure out there, proud of ya, sis." The elf responded, finally setting the artificer back done. "Sorry about that. Course you're welcome here, all of you folks. You're one of those sith-makar folks right? Name's Tylas, pleasure to meet you all."

Warrick chuckles, nodding towards Aelwyn. "You got the gist of it, and yeah, it is."

Releasing Schara so that she could get crushed, he signals to the driver to keep going. "Pleasure to meet you, Tylas. Warrick Retzner," he offers a hand after peeling his gauntlet off. "Your sister is one hell of an artificer."

Aelwyn leans back and watches as the reunions are made, leaning forward and resting his chin upon his hand with a curious look. Eventually, when addressed, the Dragoon straighten and flashes his sharp teeth in a macabre grin at the man.

"This one is of kin, yes." He confirms, and then bows his head, ribbons flopping over. "Aelwyn, a Dragoon. This one is grateful for the welcome." And looking over Schara for a moment, he nods again. "Brass is indeed," He agrees with Warrick.

"I don't have any association with the lower planes, but I'm fairly certain that in the context they are saying that I've been learning well." Schara corrects, while Tylas reaches to shake Warrick's hand, and flash a smile back at the makari. "Not surprised in the slightest, and yeah, they're saying you're great. That armor is something else! Everyone else is gonna love it." Tylas adds. "Visiting with an actual dragon huh? You've met some interesting folks out in Alexandria." The elf leans against the front bench of the cart, and sighs. "I figure you got the letter right? don't worry about mom, she's healing up well. I'm sure seeing you again will put her in even better spirits."

Warrick gives the hand a firm shake before pulling away and rumbling a chuckle at Schara's usual antics. There is a visible wince that goes across his face at the mention of Schara's mother. If she's healing, then that only confirms she's been injured. "Sooner the better then," Warrick notes, putting a hand on the law book once more. "And, lend aid."

Aelwyn puffs out his chest just so much more when he is called a dragon, even if he moves to correct the man, "A Dragoon, not a dragon. This one cannot claim wings of such creatures of legend."

But then the reason why they were there in the first place is mentioned, and his attention snaps onto Schara. "Let us not waste time, then." He picks up his glaive and leans it against his shoulder.

"A dragoon, not dragon. Like one of the mounted cavalry people, which I thought was odd for Aelwyn to call himself since I've never actually seen him ride anything, but I believe he's working on that." Schara adds, but the artificer grows quiet. "I'm glad she's okay, what happened? And, what letter are you talking about, brother? I am certain that you or anyone would not send such a package to Alexandria for no reason."

There's a look of confusion on Tylas' face as the cart rounds another bend in the path through the countless fruit trees they passed. A large home looms in the distance, a rough hewn, two story building with a fenced porch covering the entire front. Stranger was the massive oak tree that was growing out of the right side, the structure built into and around it, supporting a third room with several branches sticking through it.

Warrick quirks a brow at that. No letter? Intercepted perhaps, and the contents replaced. He scratches at his growing beard. The once-guard files that away for later, opting to peer out at the approaching home. "Oh, wow," he comments. "That siding is great. With a tree room too? My daughter would have a field day."

Aelwyn looks towards the brother, tilting his head, then looks back at Schara. He twists his lips, but decides to leave the conversation for now - plenty of answers undoubtedly would be soon found. "Let us make certain those who need to be fine are fine." He suggests to the pair.

Then the tree becomes visible - and Aelwyn is found staring. Then tilting his head, then staring. He cannot resist but to ask, "... why build the house around a tree?"

"Really not sure what you're talking about, but we'll figure things out. Best to talk with her about that." Tylas responds, still looking confused. Schara tilts her head, and nods to the group.

"I'm glad you like it, I always liked it too." She answers, sounding a bit wistful as the cart came to a stop. "You need to understand Aelwyn, that our family has been tending to these orchards for generations. Elven generations, which last for significantly longer periods of time. My great great great great grandfather planted that tree, and built this home, and generations on built it further while the tree was still growing. No one wanted to tear down the house or the tree, and it's a great pride that it's maintained in such health to my parents still."

With the cart coming to a stop, Schara quickly leapt off the cart and jogged to the door, partly to see, and partly to get free of the cart and horses. "Thanks for coming here with her." Tylas mentions off-handedly, having lingered in the cart for some time. "Not entirely sure what's been going on, but I'm surprised you managed to get her in a cart here. When she left, she walked all the way to Alexandria to avoid that."

Warrick glances to Schara, sharing a look with them and nodding once. "Yeah, trees are very sacred here, Aelwyn. You'll probably find some trees here that are older than Llyranost itself."

He leans back to make for the blur of metal and artifice to head towards the door. "... all the way? By Serriel," he shakes his head. "I think her concern for your mother outweighs that of her fears. Plus, having friends here helps." He hops off the cart with a grunt, metal armor clanking as he does and hefting his crossbow strap tighter. "It's... concerning. And best saved once all are collected and pleasantries are done."

Aelwyn leans back and clicks his tongue again, and concedes, "Tch, this one supposes it makes sense." For one who has spent his time on the road, a concept of a permanent residence was still very alien. Then he turns towards Tylas. "Ah, even if she did wish to do so, this one has no desire to gain a caravaner's foot." Hopping off the caravan neatly, he pulls the glaive against his shoulder.

The Dragoon jerks his head at Warrick, gesturing towards the house. "This one has many questions - but perhaps we should not let her lose us in the house before we get to ask them." He says and then starts striding after Schara.

Schara knocked once on the door, a second time, before she opened the door and stepped inside, not waiting for the others for the time being.

Inside was warm and welcoming, various crytals set into alcoves providing a warm light to ward off the night that was quickly falling. Inside the artificer hadn't gotten far, as she was hugging yet another person, this time, a woman who looked quite a lot like schara did, though her features were a bit sharper, with brown hair that went down almost to her waist. The unknown elf waved and smiled to the newcomers, before returning to talking animatedly with Schara in sil.

Warrick nods once, adjusting his helmet under his arm. "As do I," he grunts, walking behind Aelwyn and ducking inside. His brows raise as the crystals, looking about somewhat impressed, and perhaps taking mental notes.

His attention shifts to the waving, him giving a two finger wave from the strap he was holding. Somewhat awkwardly, he stands off to the side before muttering quietly in a growling tongue to Aelwyn, "The vibes are off here. Everyone is happy." <Draconic>

GAME: Aelwyn rolls sense motive: (12)+5: 17

Aelwyn bows his head at the woman inside, tilting his head at the other person. He doesn't move to interrupt the agitated conversation, instead opting to lean against his glaive.

The draconian looks towards Warrick when he speaks, then after a moment of thought, nods his head. Continuing to speak in Draconic to Warrick, he replies, "When are vibes not off around Brass?" He counters with a flash of his teeth, before a more serious expression falls on his face. "It is strange, but this one cannot see nothing but happiness."

The unknown elf talking to Schara stops, and pats the armored artificer on the head before curtsying to Warrick and Aelwyn. "It is good to meet you both, I hope travelling out this far has not been too taxing. My name is Thalia, Schara's sister" They greet. "It won't be too long to dinner, so you're welcome to join us after washing up. Mom and dad are resting in the sitting room for the moment." She adds with a glance to the artificer in particular, who was currently looking confused at Warrick who seemed to be growling quietly.

"That's the problem. The situation isn't happy. Yet-" <Draconic> Warrick ceases his side conversation with Aelwyn before clearing his throat and bowing slighting from the waist. "Thalia, pleasure. Warrick Retzner." He glances about before shifting his weight. "Might there be a place I can put my things? I was not anticipating dinner, and I fear I am... not well dressed."

One does not wear armor and weapons to dinner.

"Perhaps it'd be best if Schara checks on your parents first, yes? We came all this way, I'd feel rude to not say hello." And that'd answer more questions sooner, he doesn't say aloud.

Aelwyn turns and bows his head towards Thalia. "Aelwyn, a Dragoon." He introduces himself, and then nudges the well-armored man. "One should always dress for a dinner - one can never know." He flickers his tongue.

Turning towards Schara and Thalia, he considers for a moment, then nods. "This one agrees. Though this one can accompany?" He offers to Schara. The ruddy stih-makar was still holding onto his glaive. As one does.

"Sure thing, I'll show you to the washroom afterwards. It's just down the hall here." Tylas offers to Warrick.

"Yes, please, I would very much like to see them as soon as I can." Schara agrees, trying to hide the concern and happiness in their voice and failing utterly as only the artificer could so regularly. "Follow me, please." She says before taking off down one of the halls, leaving her siblings to follow not far behind. The house was only two floors tall outside of the extra room, but it was quite sprawling inside, and well lived in. Most of doors inside were reinforced with metal plattes around the bottoms that the artificer shoves with one foot to move past.

Inside one of the rooms is a well furnished living room, with numerous bookshelves lining the walls and many leather chairs and other surfaces. In one such chair was an older looking elf with a short beard, black hair flecked with gray to the point it was threatening to overtake the original hue, and another who was lying down on one of the couches. One sleeve of their coat was folded back at the elbow, and both sat up as the artificer arrived.

Warrick tuts at Aelwyn. "I dress like this so I can make it to dinner," he offers sagely, if a bit grim. He gives his thanks to Tylas, noting that for later as he follows after the artificer. His gaze lingers about the walls and doorways he goes, trying to grasp the literal millennias the estate has stood. The additions to the doors isn't missed, even has he holds them open for the others to pass.

Stepping into the sitting room, his gaze jumps from the man- the father- and the woman- the mother. It settles on the folded sleeve. That solves one mystery. But still, something wasn't adding up.

He bows once again at the waist. "Good evening. You all have a lovely place."

"Tch, but one never knows when the next dinner comes and whether it is the last." The Dragoon tells Warrick in draconic, as not to offender their hosts. There are words to be said to be speaking of such ill omens as welcomed guests.

There is not much Aelwyn says as he moves after Schara and the siblings - but when they arrive at the room, he simply grins and bows once more. "This one was particularly taken by the tree." Then he gestures towards Schara. "And Brass - they are quite the artificer."

Schara's sister excuses herself to continue back the way they came, while her brother enters the room, taking a spot near one of the windows, looking deep in thought.

"That has to be you right Schara? That looks like the armor you wrote so much in your letters about." The mother speaks up, smiling gently. "Lira, and this is my husband Corym. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She greets. The older elf nods, closing their book and setting it aside. "Well, please, make yourself at home. You're always welcome back any time you know, Schara." They offer, chuckling loudly. " This is Warrick, I take it? And Aelwyn, was it?"

-To be Continued-