Thanks to Srenna
Anarinuell: Palace District -- The Great Marble Arch of the Temple Grounds
Sarina is making her way from the Ticanee district towards the temples. She's looking a bit less battered-to-hell than she did before -- definitely on the mend -- but still not back to her old self. For a change from her usual armor-clad state, she's instead wearing a suede dress and boots, though her everpresent necklace is visible once more around her neck.
Bashar's apparent station in life is much improved since the Fort Zayes escapees last saw each other. He is not in armor, either, though his tunic has been considerably touched up, bearing little if any signs of its hard usage. There is a wedding necklace around his neck, and a single ring on one finger...though it might be noted that he still has a tight grip on the javelin he made such use of during the escape. And he is not walking on his own; instead, he rides in the seat of a hand cart, pushed by a large man in Didoron family colors. Another man walks with him, apparently there so the two can alternate their efforts. For his own part, Bashar looks a bit uncomfortable at being waited on in such a fashion. However, he also looks to be in considerably less pain than he has been in some time, for all that he is far from healed. "Sarina!" he calls to the Ticanee woman as he sees her, and puts up a hand in greeting. *Firan*
Sarina glances over, and offers a smile. "Bashar," she replies, moving over towards the cart and attendants. Her ear is still bandaged where it was nearly gashed off during the escape, so she carefully places herself to position her good, uncovered ear closer to her fellow escapee. "You're looking better. Good." *Firan*
"Yeah," Bashar acknowledges. "Feeling a lot better. Seeing home, getting a bath...helps a lot. I sent a message to Wylma; hope she gets around to dealing with my leg, because I don't really feel like being laid up until I'm thirty." He gestures to his two somewhat bored looking assistants. "Lady Yvette hired me these guys straight away. Nice not to have to walk." He looks up from about three feet off the ground. It is clear the system still has something left to work out, as Bashar sprawls more than a little out of the belly of the wheelbarrow, but he certainly seems more cheerful. "You look a lot better yerself. Like half a dozen times I didn't think any of us were gonna make it out alive..."
Sarina looks away for a moment, her gaze distant. "Yeah. It was a closer thing than I would have liked. And still..." She trails off, haunted by the bodies they left behind without a funeral, the faces of those who they couldn't save. "Well, it was a near thing. If Parosh hadn't woken up, we might not have made it." *Firan*
Bashar gives a little wry chuckle, though there is a hint of bitterness as his own thoughts brush past those they couldn't save. "Yeah, you and me? We woulda had to try and fly a griffon on our own. And let the real rankers up on the griffon with a real pilot." He shakes his head. "Prob'ly woulda died. But...he did, we didn't, thank the gods." *Firan*
Sarina nods once, glancing over at the sacred path. "That's what I was just about to do. They must have been watching over us, to see us out safely." *Firan*
"Yeah, I'd say," Bashar agrees with a wry smile and slightly hooded eyes. "I was going to pay a visit to Srenna's temple...I'm an Eeshan, myself, but I definitely felt Srenna's hand in our escape." Pretty unsubtly, too. "I dunno how they feel about men in wheelbarrows in the temple; probably have to work something out for a bit." He jerks his head in the direction of the path. "You wanna head down?"
Sarina nods once to Bashar. "I was going to the Srennian temple myself," she offers, as if the blatantly Srennian-themed dress wasn't an obvious enough statement of her faith. She turns to regard the marble arch for a moment, and then nods once. "Her hand... yes. I agree." *Firan*
Bashar gives a wry smile. "Thought maybe you were," he replies, taking refuge in light, dry humor; it seems to provide him a certain refuge against the sense of unreality of being out, being free, seeing the sun. "Anyway. Good part of being a polytheist is that nobody ever says you can't give thanks where you think it's due." He looks up at the guy pushing him, and he picks up the handles and starts Bashar moving again. *Firan*
Anarinuell: Palace District -- Temple of Srenna
Sarina makes her way into the Srennian temple with the air of long familiarity. A former ward of the temple, given into the care of one priestess, and later raised by another... this is, in many ways, a second home to her. And so she moves almost habitually to the sacred flame, making her devotions and then bowing her head in silent prayer, one hand clasping the pendant of the necklace she always wears.
Bashar gets pushed to the edge of the temple, then has his assistants pick him up by the arms. "One stay, one pray," Bashar informs them, leaving one by the cart while he uses the shoulders of the others to lean on. He brings with him not the javelin from his escape, but the spear that Sarina surely saw him use many times before, including at war; somehow, this one item seems to have escaped. He hobbles his way forward to the flame and makes his own devotions, bowing his head in much a mirror of Sarina's. *Firan*
Sarina looks at the spear, and smiles slightly. "I wish I'd gotten back my sword," she murmurs. "But things can be replaced." *Firan*
Bashar looks up as Sarina notices his spear and smiles wryly. "Heh. Yeah. I mean, my armor would be more valuable, but this spear and I have logged a lot of fights together. I loaned it to Lord Udettos when he came back from Shamibelian prison; I had this and one of Republic issue, which I figured I shouldn't go loaning out. So..." He hitches his free shoulder. "When I got back, I asked him for it back." *Firan*
Sarina smiles. "Fortunate, then." She turns back to the eternal flame, watching the dance and play of the flames by the altar. One hand is held out, as if to soak up the heat... the warmth. Seeking comfort. "We were luckier than we could have been." *Firan*
"Yeah," Bashar agrees, his eyes turning to the fire as well. He, however, does not actually reach towards it; his present distance seems perfectly acceptable. "Coulda fallen apart easily. And...there were three we couldn't get." His voice is grim at this, his eyebrows narrowing and pulling together.
Sarina grimaces. "Nadira. Ioanna. Tehya," she agrees. "Their names won't be forgotten. Especially Tehya... she was my friend, and one of my sentries. I'll be going back for her as soon as I can... I won't leave her there indefinitely." *Firan*
Marsalos has arrived.
Marsalos enters followed by 4 clan guards.
Bashar looks around at Sarina at that. "It's not easy to raid for a particular person," he cautions her. "They aren't likely to let Tehya outside the city walls of Ellish for some time. And going to get her out from inside..." He grimaces and gives his head a little shake. "It's hardly hopeless...but it ain't easy." *Firan*
Bashar is standing near Sarina before the eternal flame. He has a bodyguard/assistant in Didoron family colors who is providing him with a shoulder to lean on; another man with Didoron livery is just outside the temple with a hand cart. Bashar and Sarina both look beat up, but a lot better than the last time the captives were together as a group.
Marsalos finally makes his way to the temple distract, although it clearly took some doing. He walks in with the help of one of four guards, however he got this far. He nods to the other two.
Sarina glances over at Marsalos, and offers the Iberik lordling a polite nod. "We just made our prayers, milord." Now that they're back in the city, it seems, he gets the title again. Sarina may be a Ticanee, with her people's typical disregard for 'social differences,' but she can't expect the nobles to always see things the same way. "It's good to see you up and about again." *Firan*
Marsalos looks Sarina and Bashar over, and returns her greeting with a mild, "As it is good to see you two both up. You look better -- clean, at least." He smirks slightly, but doesn't say anything further on that. "I will offer my own prayers, then. I have prayed to Zin already." *Firan*
Marsalos might be all prayed-out, but he tries anyway! So there.
Bashar looks around as Sarina does and spots Marsalos. "M'lord," he says, dipping his head. Then he smiles wryly. "A battered bunch we make. Good thing war season is well over, because I wouldn't be returning to duty any time soon." *Firan*
Sarina smirks back. "Yes, we Ticanee are a very clean people, milord," she replies lightly. "If you want to walk around wearing nothing but blue paint, it's always good to be clean before you put the paint on." *Firan*
Marsalos prays, and then opens his eyes to Sarina. He snorts softly. "No doubt. Dirt does not help it stick?" *Firan*
Bashar gives Sarina an appraising look up and down, one eyebrow raised. "Just let me know when you're planning to next so I can plan my schedule accordingly," he says cheerfully. *Firan*
Sarina smirks. "No, actually. Makes it flake off... and that's just not stylish at all." She turns to Bashar with an arched eyebrow. "What, you didn't see enough of me in the cell?" *Firan*
"Neither is blue paint." Marsalos holds up a finger. "Unless it is navy blue. Perhaps, then." He grimaces at cell talk.
"Well, yes, but you were bloody, dirty, bruised and beaten all to hell. I couldn't really separate out your, ah, natural glory from our hole in the ground," Bashar explains. His cranes his head slightly to look around at Sarina and Bashar's hand squeezes on his shoulder, plenty hard enough to get his attention. The guard/assistant looks away quickly.
Sarina smiles, but puts aside the joking about unclad Ticanee and glances over at Marsalos by the altar. She takes in the nobleman's nicely coordinated outfit. And the resulting lack of blue suede sandals. She doesn't actually remark on this, but her facial expressions are obvious enough that she doesn't really need to.
Marsalos laughs, once, and softly. "Glorious though it might have been." As Sarina looks over his attire, he simply raises his eyebrow at her, inviting comment. *Firan*
Bashar decides not to press the naked Ticanee theme, instead turning a bit away from the flame and the altar, given that his devotions are complete, and his eyes swivel around the room.
Sarina looks back at the flame for a long moment. "I'm not sure how much glory there was in any of that." After a brief pause, she grins and adds, "Though it had its moments..." Punching out that Shamibelian guard a second time when he got up was /very/ satisfying. *Firan*
Bashar stares off distantly at the statue of Srenna, Zayes and Agarn for a minute, then seems to sort of snap back to himself. "Hm? Oh." And he has to grin at that. "Knocking that big brute down was a kick," he has to note. "That's the bastard who gave me a kick in the, uh, family jewels as soon as I was in the cell, too. Nice to score one back for the home team." *Firan*
Marsalos makes a small noise of acknowledgement as Sarina takes a light comment pulls it darker. Agreement rides faintly over the nod and scowl that settles on his features. "I prefer fighting to advance rather than fighting to flee. And that we couldn't take everyone--." He breaks off, shoulders hunching inward crankily. *Firan*
Sarina has been in a darker mood, no doubt because one of those she left behind was a friend -- and worse, a sentry assigned under her. She nods to Bashar's comment, and then turns to Marsalos. Now it's her turn to try and add a little more humor back into things, by commenting, "Remind me never to take directions from a Firanosian again." *Firan*
"Oh holy feck no," blurts Bashar at Sarina's comment, a little sag going out of him. "Do you seriously think they even once heard me say 'hey, this fecking guard who left the door unlocked said main gate, griffons, alone?'" He rolls his eyes up to the sky and murmurs at the flame under his breath, "Uh, sorry, no disrepect intended..."
Disgust colors Marsalos's gaze. "Too much meditation, too little thinking."
Sarina shakes her head, regarding the statue herself for a moment. Perhaps thinking that people like Zayes and Agarn would've been listening to. "I /said/ we should go to the main gate," she replies with a shrug. "But I'm just a commoner centurion, right? And a Ticanee to boot. Clearly not important enough for the high-and-mighty touched-by-the-gods serving-a-prophecy Firanosian to listen to." Or Nazeera, for that matter. "So we followed the experienced leaders." After a moment, she sighs and shakes her head in frustration. "Oh, maybe it was meant to be that way. At least now we know where they were keeping Lord Lotuk's body, which may be helpful. Since I hear they're mounting a raid to try and get the body back." *Firan*
Bashar is rolling his eyes right along with Sarina...or at least with Sarina's tone. "I swear, that's the only thing that makes me wanna move up the chain of command. That and maybe the pay scale. But not having to grit your teeth at orders in battle..." He gives his head a sad shake; it is notable, however, that they all followed their orders when given. Then he tilts his head to the side. "They're gonna raid Fort Zayes's privy for Lord Lotuk's body? Uh...good luck to 'em, I guess. I ain't gonna be fit any time soon." *Firan*
Marsalos, being neither commoner nor Ticanee, but an /Iberik/, damnit, does not so quickly shrug off his frustration. "I suppose Commander Nazeera will be writing any report, too. Nngh." He shifts, glaring at the ground as if he would like to kick it -- but with only one good leg, such a thing is really a bad, bad idea. "A good point about the body, though, Sarina. Have you told anyone?" *Firan*
Sarina nods. "I spoke to Lady Melani last night," she replies. "I suspect Lady Taleena will be upset that we did not bring the body back, or try to burn it there, since we had two Unotians and a Firanosian." *Firan*
Sarina adds grimly, "I may volunteer, if I can heal quickly enough." *Firan*
"And," Bashar abruptly blurts out, "what in Srenna's holy name," a nice, wholesome curse for a deity's temple, "was that idiot doing engaging that brute from the back of his griffon and putting one of our two upright pilots in harm's way?" Frustration bubbles out again, Bashar unable to stop it, though he attempts to wave it away. "Sorry, sorry. Was just freaking out by that point. You'd have smarter commanders, right, for this mission? And you'd know your objective...suppose it's unlikely the prisoners'd still be there."
Marsalos counts on his fingers: two for Unot, one for Firanos, and then he adds two more points with a slight smirk at Sarina, and a glance at his toes. His hand folds to form a fist which he clenches. He laughs sharply again as Bashar's words break forth. "He is clearly an optimist. I am not. I -- I should get back. I just wanted to add my prayers to yours. I wish the others luck, but I don't think I will be well enough to add more than my well wishes to their endeavors. I will no doubt see you both. Good day." *Firan*
Nakia has arrived.
Nakia is looking extra happy about life as she enters the temple. Stopping right inside the door, however, she remembers her new skill and digs some items out of her backpack.
Sarina nods to Marsalos. "I should get back and rest," she admits. "Before Aunt Alexa has a cat over my being up and about." Ah, the joys of having a protective, mothering relative who outranks you and can actually ORDER you to rest. "I'm sure we'll see more of each other." A brief glance at Marsalos' feet and then an arched eyebrow implies that Sarina's still curious about something. *Firan*
Marsalos and his feet leave.
Marsalos has left.
Bashar dips his head to Marsalos, and his silent (bored) guard/support does the same. "Thank you, m'lord. It is...good to see you, out and about, whole and...healing." Healthy would probably be an overstatement. Bashar, Sarina and Marsalos are clustered near the eternal flame, evidently having recently finished devotions, and Marsalos and Bashar are each inclined to lean on a guard. Bashar gets a curious little wry smile at Marsalos's look. "Gods bless." *Firan*
Nakia says her prayers, gives a shy smile to Marsalos as he walks by and doesn't even look too crushed when he doesn't even notice she's alive. Prayers said, she's on her way to the next temple.
Nakia has left.
Bashar gives his neck a little crick to one side and then a wry smile to Sarina. "I got enough overprotective women worryin' over me, too," he must acknowledge. "Srenna stay with you, Centurion. I need to stop by Eesha's temple, as well." *Firan*
Sarina smiles slightly. "I'm certain she will," she murmurs, one hand on her necklace for just a moment. And then with a nod, she turns to depart. *Firan*
OOC commentary on this one: it was really nice to get with Marsalos and Sarina, who were big RP partners of mine the whole 10 days or so Bashar was captured and RP a little of the aftermath. I think Bashar definitely feels a bonding with at least these two based on what they went through, though not so much with Nicolos and Nazeera, as might be guessed from how much he was bitching about them. ;)
It was nice to RP without death hanging over us, a little bit of the tightly wound spring releasing gradually all its tension. Complaining about Nicolos and Nazeera was definitely part of that for Bashar, and he feels better having done it. And I, as a player, am happy to get the let down too. This life and death mission/TP stuff is a lot of fun, but I signed on as Bashar because I like his every day life. If I didn't, I don't think I could RP him consistently.
Bashar, as he unwinds, finds himself a little bit giddy, but also conflicted. There is a sense of unreality, of being spared from all but certain death (though it was really all but certain slavery.) So try as he might, he doesn't feel as bad as he thinks he ought to that they didn't get out Tehya, Ioanna and Nadira; he never expected to. He was pretty certain that those girls were Hralib's distraction for the men, and Bashar was not going to make their horror invalid by messing up his escape attempt, even if it meant leaving them. He also feels guilty about not feeling as bad as he should over Lady Lilana's death; he just can't process all the emotions at once when his own relief at being alive and free is still so fresh and great. So he's probably going to overcompensate by doing everything he can for Zerasmus. (That doesn't figure to be much if I can't catch him online, but Bashar will at least be on the look out for gestures to make.)
Anyway. Fun scene! I don't know if these three are likely to assemble again for any similar purpose in the future, but Bashar is never going to forget flicking pebbles at a rat skeleton with Marsalos or sitting next to Sarina constantly in his cell. (There are others he will remember too, but they were the ones in this scene. ;)
Sarina is making her way from the Ticanee district towards the temples. She's looking a bit less battered-to-hell than she did before -- definitely on the mend -- but still not back to her old self. For a change from her usual armor-clad state, she's instead wearing a suede dress and boots, though her everpresent necklace is visible once more around her neck.
Bashar's apparent station in life is much improved since the Fort Zayes escapees last saw each other. He is not in armor, either, though his tunic has been considerably touched up, bearing little if any signs of its hard usage. There is a wedding necklace around his neck, and a single ring on one finger...though it might be noted that he still has a tight grip on the javelin he made such use of during the escape. And he is not walking on his own; instead, he rides in the seat of a hand cart, pushed by a large man in Didoron family colors. Another man walks with him, apparently there so the two can alternate their efforts. For his own part, Bashar looks a bit uncomfortable at being waited on in such a fashion. However, he also looks to be in considerably less pain than he has been in some time, for all that he is far from healed. "Sarina!" he calls to the Ticanee woman as he sees her, and puts up a hand in greeting. *Firan*
Sarina glances over, and offers a smile. "Bashar," she replies, moving over towards the cart and attendants. Her ear is still bandaged where it was nearly gashed off during the escape, so she carefully places herself to position her good, uncovered ear closer to her fellow escapee. "You're looking better. Good." *Firan*
"Yeah," Bashar acknowledges. "Feeling a lot better. Seeing home, getting a bath...helps a lot. I sent a message to Wylma; hope she gets around to dealing with my leg, because I don't really feel like being laid up until I'm thirty." He gestures to his two somewhat bored looking assistants. "Lady Yvette hired me these guys straight away. Nice not to have to walk." He looks up from about three feet off the ground. It is clear the system still has something left to work out, as Bashar sprawls more than a little out of the belly of the wheelbarrow, but he certainly seems more cheerful. "You look a lot better yerself. Like half a dozen times I didn't think any of us were gonna make it out alive..."
Sarina looks away for a moment, her gaze distant. "Yeah. It was a closer thing than I would have liked. And still..." She trails off, haunted by the bodies they left behind without a funeral, the faces of those who they couldn't save. "Well, it was a near thing. If Parosh hadn't woken up, we might not have made it." *Firan*
Bashar gives a little wry chuckle, though there is a hint of bitterness as his own thoughts brush past those they couldn't save. "Yeah, you and me? We woulda had to try and fly a griffon on our own. And let the real rankers up on the griffon with a real pilot." He shakes his head. "Prob'ly woulda died. But...he did, we didn't, thank the gods." *Firan*
Sarina nods once, glancing over at the sacred path. "That's what I was just about to do. They must have been watching over us, to see us out safely." *Firan*
"Yeah, I'd say," Bashar agrees with a wry smile and slightly hooded eyes. "I was going to pay a visit to Srenna's temple...I'm an Eeshan, myself, but I definitely felt Srenna's hand in our escape." Pretty unsubtly, too. "I dunno how they feel about men in wheelbarrows in the temple; probably have to work something out for a bit." He jerks his head in the direction of the path. "You wanna head down?"
Sarina nods once to Bashar. "I was going to the Srennian temple myself," she offers, as if the blatantly Srennian-themed dress wasn't an obvious enough statement of her faith. She turns to regard the marble arch for a moment, and then nods once. "Her hand... yes. I agree." *Firan*
Bashar gives a wry smile. "Thought maybe you were," he replies, taking refuge in light, dry humor; it seems to provide him a certain refuge against the sense of unreality of being out, being free, seeing the sun. "Anyway. Good part of being a polytheist is that nobody ever says you can't give thanks where you think it's due." He looks up at the guy pushing him, and he picks up the handles and starts Bashar moving again. *Firan*
Anarinuell: Palace District -- Temple of Srenna
Sarina makes her way into the Srennian temple with the air of long familiarity. A former ward of the temple, given into the care of one priestess, and later raised by another... this is, in many ways, a second home to her. And so she moves almost habitually to the sacred flame, making her devotions and then bowing her head in silent prayer, one hand clasping the pendant of the necklace she always wears.
Bashar gets pushed to the edge of the temple, then has his assistants pick him up by the arms. "One stay, one pray," Bashar informs them, leaving one by the cart while he uses the shoulders of the others to lean on. He brings with him not the javelin from his escape, but the spear that Sarina surely saw him use many times before, including at war; somehow, this one item seems to have escaped. He hobbles his way forward to the flame and makes his own devotions, bowing his head in much a mirror of Sarina's. *Firan*
Sarina looks at the spear, and smiles slightly. "I wish I'd gotten back my sword," she murmurs. "But things can be replaced." *Firan*
Bashar looks up as Sarina notices his spear and smiles wryly. "Heh. Yeah. I mean, my armor would be more valuable, but this spear and I have logged a lot of fights together. I loaned it to Lord Udettos when he came back from Shamibelian prison; I had this and one of Republic issue, which I figured I shouldn't go loaning out. So..." He hitches his free shoulder. "When I got back, I asked him for it back." *Firan*
Sarina smiles. "Fortunate, then." She turns back to the eternal flame, watching the dance and play of the flames by the altar. One hand is held out, as if to soak up the heat... the warmth. Seeking comfort. "We were luckier than we could have been." *Firan*
"Yeah," Bashar agrees, his eyes turning to the fire as well. He, however, does not actually reach towards it; his present distance seems perfectly acceptable. "Coulda fallen apart easily. And...there were three we couldn't get." His voice is grim at this, his eyebrows narrowing and pulling together.
Sarina grimaces. "Nadira. Ioanna. Tehya," she agrees. "Their names won't be forgotten. Especially Tehya... she was my friend, and one of my sentries. I'll be going back for her as soon as I can... I won't leave her there indefinitely." *Firan*
Marsalos has arrived.
Marsalos enters followed by 4 clan guards.
Bashar looks around at Sarina at that. "It's not easy to raid for a particular person," he cautions her. "They aren't likely to let Tehya outside the city walls of Ellish for some time. And going to get her out from inside..." He grimaces and gives his head a little shake. "It's hardly hopeless...but it ain't easy." *Firan*
Bashar is standing near Sarina before the eternal flame. He has a bodyguard/assistant in Didoron family colors who is providing him with a shoulder to lean on; another man with Didoron livery is just outside the temple with a hand cart. Bashar and Sarina both look beat up, but a lot better than the last time the captives were together as a group.
Marsalos finally makes his way to the temple distract, although it clearly took some doing. He walks in with the help of one of four guards, however he got this far. He nods to the other two.
Sarina glances over at Marsalos, and offers the Iberik lordling a polite nod. "We just made our prayers, milord." Now that they're back in the city, it seems, he gets the title again. Sarina may be a Ticanee, with her people's typical disregard for 'social differences,' but she can't expect the nobles to always see things the same way. "It's good to see you up and about again." *Firan*
Marsalos looks Sarina and Bashar over, and returns her greeting with a mild, "As it is good to see you two both up. You look better -- clean, at least." He smirks slightly, but doesn't say anything further on that. "I will offer my own prayers, then. I have prayed to Zin already." *Firan*
Marsalos might be all prayed-out, but he tries anyway! So there.
Bashar looks around as Sarina does and spots Marsalos. "M'lord," he says, dipping his head. Then he smiles wryly. "A battered bunch we make. Good thing war season is well over, because I wouldn't be returning to duty any time soon." *Firan*
Sarina smirks back. "Yes, we Ticanee are a very clean people, milord," she replies lightly. "If you want to walk around wearing nothing but blue paint, it's always good to be clean before you put the paint on." *Firan*
Marsalos prays, and then opens his eyes to Sarina. He snorts softly. "No doubt. Dirt does not help it stick?" *Firan*
Bashar gives Sarina an appraising look up and down, one eyebrow raised. "Just let me know when you're planning to next so I can plan my schedule accordingly," he says cheerfully. *Firan*
Sarina smirks. "No, actually. Makes it flake off... and that's just not stylish at all." She turns to Bashar with an arched eyebrow. "What, you didn't see enough of me in the cell?" *Firan*
"Neither is blue paint." Marsalos holds up a finger. "Unless it is navy blue. Perhaps, then." He grimaces at cell talk.
"Well, yes, but you were bloody, dirty, bruised and beaten all to hell. I couldn't really separate out your, ah, natural glory from our hole in the ground," Bashar explains. His cranes his head slightly to look around at Sarina and Bashar's hand squeezes on his shoulder, plenty hard enough to get his attention. The guard/assistant looks away quickly.
Sarina smiles, but puts aside the joking about unclad Ticanee and glances over at Marsalos by the altar. She takes in the nobleman's nicely coordinated outfit. And the resulting lack of blue suede sandals. She doesn't actually remark on this, but her facial expressions are obvious enough that she doesn't really need to.
Marsalos laughs, once, and softly. "Glorious though it might have been." As Sarina looks over his attire, he simply raises his eyebrow at her, inviting comment. *Firan*
Bashar decides not to press the naked Ticanee theme, instead turning a bit away from the flame and the altar, given that his devotions are complete, and his eyes swivel around the room.
Sarina looks back at the flame for a long moment. "I'm not sure how much glory there was in any of that." After a brief pause, she grins and adds, "Though it had its moments..." Punching out that Shamibelian guard a second time when he got up was /very/ satisfying. *Firan*
Bashar stares off distantly at the statue of Srenna, Zayes and Agarn for a minute, then seems to sort of snap back to himself. "Hm? Oh." And he has to grin at that. "Knocking that big brute down was a kick," he has to note. "That's the bastard who gave me a kick in the, uh, family jewels as soon as I was in the cell, too. Nice to score one back for the home team." *Firan*
Marsalos makes a small noise of acknowledgement as Sarina takes a light comment pulls it darker. Agreement rides faintly over the nod and scowl that settles on his features. "I prefer fighting to advance rather than fighting to flee. And that we couldn't take everyone--." He breaks off, shoulders hunching inward crankily. *Firan*
Sarina has been in a darker mood, no doubt because one of those she left behind was a friend -- and worse, a sentry assigned under her. She nods to Bashar's comment, and then turns to Marsalos. Now it's her turn to try and add a little more humor back into things, by commenting, "Remind me never to take directions from a Firanosian again." *Firan*
"Oh holy feck no," blurts Bashar at Sarina's comment, a little sag going out of him. "Do you seriously think they even once heard me say 'hey, this fecking guard who left the door unlocked said main gate, griffons, alone?'" He rolls his eyes up to the sky and murmurs at the flame under his breath, "Uh, sorry, no disrepect intended..."
Disgust colors Marsalos's gaze. "Too much meditation, too little thinking."
Sarina shakes her head, regarding the statue herself for a moment. Perhaps thinking that people like Zayes and Agarn would've been listening to. "I /said/ we should go to the main gate," she replies with a shrug. "But I'm just a commoner centurion, right? And a Ticanee to boot. Clearly not important enough for the high-and-mighty touched-by-the-gods serving-a-prophecy Firanosian to listen to." Or Nazeera, for that matter. "So we followed the experienced leaders." After a moment, she sighs and shakes her head in frustration. "Oh, maybe it was meant to be that way. At least now we know where they were keeping Lord Lotuk's body, which may be helpful. Since I hear they're mounting a raid to try and get the body back." *Firan*
Bashar is rolling his eyes right along with Sarina...or at least with Sarina's tone. "I swear, that's the only thing that makes me wanna move up the chain of command. That and maybe the pay scale. But not having to grit your teeth at orders in battle..." He gives his head a sad shake; it is notable, however, that they all followed their orders when given. Then he tilts his head to the side. "They're gonna raid Fort Zayes's privy for Lord Lotuk's body? Uh...good luck to 'em, I guess. I ain't gonna be fit any time soon." *Firan*
Marsalos, being neither commoner nor Ticanee, but an /Iberik/, damnit, does not so quickly shrug off his frustration. "I suppose Commander Nazeera will be writing any report, too. Nngh." He shifts, glaring at the ground as if he would like to kick it -- but with only one good leg, such a thing is really a bad, bad idea. "A good point about the body, though, Sarina. Have you told anyone?" *Firan*
Sarina nods. "I spoke to Lady Melani last night," she replies. "I suspect Lady Taleena will be upset that we did not bring the body back, or try to burn it there, since we had two Unotians and a Firanosian." *Firan*
Sarina adds grimly, "I may volunteer, if I can heal quickly enough." *Firan*
"And," Bashar abruptly blurts out, "what in Srenna's holy name," a nice, wholesome curse for a deity's temple, "was that idiot doing engaging that brute from the back of his griffon and putting one of our two upright pilots in harm's way?" Frustration bubbles out again, Bashar unable to stop it, though he attempts to wave it away. "Sorry, sorry. Was just freaking out by that point. You'd have smarter commanders, right, for this mission? And you'd know your objective...suppose it's unlikely the prisoners'd still be there."
Marsalos counts on his fingers: two for Unot, one for Firanos, and then he adds two more points with a slight smirk at Sarina, and a glance at his toes. His hand folds to form a fist which he clenches. He laughs sharply again as Bashar's words break forth. "He is clearly an optimist. I am not. I -- I should get back. I just wanted to add my prayers to yours. I wish the others luck, but I don't think I will be well enough to add more than my well wishes to their endeavors. I will no doubt see you both. Good day." *Firan*
Nakia has arrived.
Nakia is looking extra happy about life as she enters the temple. Stopping right inside the door, however, she remembers her new skill and digs some items out of her backpack.
Sarina nods to Marsalos. "I should get back and rest," she admits. "Before Aunt Alexa has a cat over my being up and about." Ah, the joys of having a protective, mothering relative who outranks you and can actually ORDER you to rest. "I'm sure we'll see more of each other." A brief glance at Marsalos' feet and then an arched eyebrow implies that Sarina's still curious about something. *Firan*
Marsalos and his feet leave.
Marsalos has left.
Bashar dips his head to Marsalos, and his silent (bored) guard/support does the same. "Thank you, m'lord. It is...good to see you, out and about, whole and...healing." Healthy would probably be an overstatement. Bashar, Sarina and Marsalos are clustered near the eternal flame, evidently having recently finished devotions, and Marsalos and Bashar are each inclined to lean on a guard. Bashar gets a curious little wry smile at Marsalos's look. "Gods bless." *Firan*
Nakia says her prayers, gives a shy smile to Marsalos as he walks by and doesn't even look too crushed when he doesn't even notice she's alive. Prayers said, she's on her way to the next temple.
Nakia has left.
Bashar gives his neck a little crick to one side and then a wry smile to Sarina. "I got enough overprotective women worryin' over me, too," he must acknowledge. "Srenna stay with you, Centurion. I need to stop by Eesha's temple, as well." *Firan*
Sarina smiles slightly. "I'm certain she will," she murmurs, one hand on her necklace for just a moment. And then with a nod, she turns to depart. *Firan*
OOC commentary on this one: it was really nice to get with Marsalos and Sarina, who were big RP partners of mine the whole 10 days or so Bashar was captured and RP a little of the aftermath. I think Bashar definitely feels a bonding with at least these two based on what they went through, though not so much with Nicolos and Nazeera, as might be guessed from how much he was bitching about them. ;)
It was nice to RP without death hanging over us, a little bit of the tightly wound spring releasing gradually all its tension. Complaining about Nicolos and Nazeera was definitely part of that for Bashar, and he feels better having done it. And I, as a player, am happy to get the let down too. This life and death mission/TP stuff is a lot of fun, but I signed on as Bashar because I like his every day life. If I didn't, I don't think I could RP him consistently.
Bashar, as he unwinds, finds himself a little bit giddy, but also conflicted. There is a sense of unreality, of being spared from all but certain death (though it was really all but certain slavery.) So try as he might, he doesn't feel as bad as he thinks he ought to that they didn't get out Tehya, Ioanna and Nadira; he never expected to. He was pretty certain that those girls were Hralib's distraction for the men, and Bashar was not going to make their horror invalid by messing up his escape attempt, even if it meant leaving them. He also feels guilty about not feeling as bad as he should over Lady Lilana's death; he just can't process all the emotions at once when his own relief at being alive and free is still so fresh and great. So he's probably going to overcompensate by doing everything he can for Zerasmus. (That doesn't figure to be much if I can't catch him online, but Bashar will at least be on the look out for gestures to make.)
Anyway. Fun scene! I don't know if these three are likely to assemble again for any similar purpose in the future, but Bashar is never going to forget flicking pebbles at a rat skeleton with Marsalos or sitting next to Sarina constantly in his cell. (There are others he will remember too, but they were the ones in this scene. ;)