Bastila

[lysoke]

Bastila

At the Northern part of The Ride, a day and a half's ride from its patron city of Ilnivur, Bastila sat as a hub of common civilization in the otherwise fairly wild strip of land inhabited by frontiersmen and migrating communities of barbarians. Where barely half an hour from the city, one might starve or dehydrate to death, Bastila had a healthy, if small, community centered on entertainment, luxury, and some trade. Patrolled only by the city's militia, Bastila's crime was healthy so long as one was smart enough about it, and nowhere was that more true than the outskirts markets that largely traded with the barbarians, travelers, and those making the journey from the only other towns in The Ride: Whitbell and Springmeadow. It was roughly 1000 feet from the edges of these markets that Chris's Gate spell dropped the displaced group of humans and animals into the chilly meadows of the land. To the North were more grasslands, to the East: the Galena mountains could be seen in the far distance, and the West held a similar, if smaller sight. The South, meanwhile, bore the haze of Thar's swamps. They could easily and truly call themselves in the middle of nowhere, were it not for the nearly out of place jut of Bastila's buildings.

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Comments

[compellingstatement]

Chris practically crying over bread has the same tenor as what Jon imagines it might be like were he to return back to his own world and be reunited with the Admiral. And Georgie... Maybe. Mostly, the Admiral. Leaving the Captain and other cats back in Duplicity had been hard enough, even if that had absolutely been in their best interest. If they'd gone through those other portals, the dogs, Little Thunder, and Poppet would almost certainly be dead absorbed by the entity ruling the place. Horrifying. Jon tries not to shudder at the thought and focus on Chris tearing up and trying to hide it in a very charming way. Jon chooses not to draw attention to it for now. He can needle Chris about it later when the cleric's being annoying.

He give an approving tilt of his head to Wolfe, instead, listening closely as Amelia offers them another piece of vocabulary that Jon knows he would have stumbled over, as well.

"Remember that no one's using magic. It levels the playing field, and you were doing just fine with the zombies coming after us. You only actually needed to use any when you weren't close enough to stab them. Thank you again for that.

"Making decent coffee's as easy as Chris conjuring filters like we had at the house into the temple, honestly. Or if we really want to go native, I imagine you have cheesecloth, yes? It's the same principle, really. You're just going to want to collect the liquid instead of the solids. Churning butter shouldn't be hard for anyone, either. I expect certain persons might even have experience with the motions." That last part is said utterly deadpan as he looks between Wolfe and Chris.

[chrisisofaith]

He finishes his bun without actually shedding any ridiculous tears and no one says anything aside from Wolfe’s bump against his knee…so he tactfully ignores the lump in his throat until he successfully swallows it down.

And nearly choked on it for his surprised laugh at Jon’s comment.

“It’s…it’s not the same. I mean…I’ve got experience with such wide poles, of course, but there is a subtlety in the process I’m sure I don’t have knowledge of…just as I wouldn’t expect they who churn to know all ways of using their hands.”

Onto his bagel, then!

“But, yes, we can make an attempt and I’ll conjure filters for the coffee when we get it…and you’ll do fine in the arena, Wolfe, I’ll be there with you.”

[wolfehawke]

Chris makes puns while Wolfe simply raises a cocky eyebrow and gestures to his still rather formidable biceps. "That may be true, but certain muscles are good for whatever sort of churning is necessary."

He takes another drink of his coffee, flexing subtly. He may not be in top shape but he hasn't lost any mass, at least. He already knows he can keep a body up for a good churn, he thinks as he glances at Amelia.

"You're right, its not that difficult. I think you might even be better at it this way than the electric one," Wolfe smiles encouragingly, still believing that Amelia's ability to cook isn't absent, its simply locked away in her being convinced she can't.

"As for the arena," he continues, saying the word in local Common now that he knows it. "I appreciate your confidence in my abilities. I will point out, though, that zombies are far less difficult than thinking opponents in that they don't use any tactics or exploit weaknesses. That says, you're right I'm not so far gone that Chris will have to carry the entire match so... I guess we'll just have to see."

Its not that he lacks confidence, he's just trying to temper expectations. Yes he has nerves about it given he's still recovering from several weeks of his only heavy activity being marathon sex, but that's not nothing in terms of getting his heartrate up. And with a look at everyone at the table, he can say with certainty that he's not going to let anyone down even if he isn't perfect. Its not a matter of life and death here, its just coin. It will make their lives much easier, certainly, but its not necessary to survive, and...

And he's not going to lose them if he's not the most perfect version of himself.

The thought is a weird one, something he never would have thought before in the shadow of his parents and his companions and all their expectations, either real or presumed. Each person here at the table has proved over and over that they value him just because he is himself. Not the best of men, the best of mages. Not the best of anything. Not because he's the Champion, or even Hawke. Just Wolfe.

And in that thought, he feels more himself than he has in a very long time.

"We could also be more powerful than any other duo the arena has ever seen so we'll just have to chance it," he finishes with a note of entirely unearned bravado, nudging Chris' elbow and grinning wide.

[rogueinladysclothing]

Amelia rolls her eyes at all the churning talk, not pointing out that she also has very strong and practiced hands for certain activities that lend themselves to keeping her arms and wrists strong. If Jon hasn't realized that or is avoiding thinking about it, she has no intention of putting the idea into his mind.

"You'll make a pleasant spectacle for me either way," she notes, a playful little smirk on her lips. "I'll do my best to offer the same in return." As if she would manage any less when she finally has a chance to let loose and show off. Dreams, it's going to be wonderful to take on opponents who won't hold back and who will thank her for shoving their face into the dirt before she's done with them. Hopefully the proprietors will allow her some amount of gloating between bouts for it.

"It sounds like we'll have everything we could want for a while before we take our rest tonight. This was a wonderful suggestion before we make our way to our next destination." She turns a warm smile to Chris in thanks. "Is there anything that isn't books or clothes we should look for? I'd like more needles and thread for future alterations, but anything else I can think of can wait." A new ring for Wolfe will wait until closer to their actual wedding day, for example.