Chapter 3: Rhenwald the Ranger

First thing they heard from the inside was muffled, yet intimidating barking. The dog definitely had some bite behind that bark, too. After some time, a grumpy, gruff, husky voice could be heard from behind the door:
"Calm down Lissie! I swear to gods if it's one of them sods from the Argents again, I'll whack'em with a fucking pole..."
The barking stopped. Moments later, the same voice called out:
"Who the hell are you? I already told Kilmander I'm not a full-time fletcher for his boot-fucked rookies! If it's not the orcs attacking Jalanthar, then get lost!"

"What, the Crowing Cockatrice ran out of mead?" the voice replied. "The elders finally agreed on something? Netherese castles flew back into the sky? Get to the point already, and tell me your name before I come up with something more fitting!"

On there way there Nadra had been somewhat restless in Imarra's arms, but when the barking comes from within she slips from her owners grasp and rushes off into the underbrush. "No, no. Don't..." are the only things Imarra can get out before loosing her out of sight. Sighing the wizard apologetically informs the others "I have to go after her, she might be tough, but neigher of us knows these woods well." and hurries off after her cat, calling out "Nadra, come back here.".

The man didn't respond. Those outside with keen ear could hear him mutter something incomprehensible and clear his throat. The dog barked a couple more times.
"Calm down, Lissie, calm down. Be a good girl for me".

A distinct sound of a big wooden door bolt could be heard. Then, the door opened, and before the adventurers' eyes appeared a tall, burly man with brown hair and thick moustache, eyes squinting and blood-shot from a rough night, his face grim, strained and unwelcoming. Beside him stood a large black dog with pricked up ears, glaring intently on the outsiders. The man gazed at the gathering before him, then locked his eyes on Amra.

"Well I'll be damned", he said, clearing his throat again, "The reverend Amra Braegen herself. And with a posse of cutthroats and pack-mules, no less. So you already know Jarvin's missing?" His tone shifted to a serious one.

Lissie:

"Aye, you tell me", the ranger nodded. "I've been trying to muster a rescue party for days now. Tough luck though. All the other rangers are out there, and the Argents can't afford to take their men off patrols for just one missing genasi. They're spread too thin. Not to mention half of these sods are new recruits from Everlund... So I guess this is our rescue party, huh?" He glanced over the rest of the group, then stepped back from the door and showed them in with a nod. "Alright, come on in, let's talk".

He took a light-brown buff coat and put it on as the rest poured in. Then closed the door and walked into a semi-dark room with a warm fireplace, a simple bed with a chest nearby, a table and several shelves with all sorts of tools and other possessions, and some well-made chairs. Right above the bed hung a long boar spear. A couple of trophies on display adorned the simple abode. What stood out about all of this was the surprisingly good order and cleanliness: it looked as if not a single item was misplaced. The only thing ruining this harmony were empty bottles and jugs here and there.

"Where did you get this sorry bunch?" the ranger asked, looking over his shoulder. The dog pattered behind him. He sat on a chair and stretched his legs out, resting them on a stool. "Ah, no matter. Have a seat or something. Name's Rhenwald, Cyrus Rhenwald if you care for it", he took a swig out of a flask and winced. "So who we got?"

Avis puzzles at the strange contrast between clean, organized belongings and emptied bottles strewn about. Alcoholism grips this man, that is for certain, but there seems to be some part of him that his addiction has not touched, perhaps an echo of a prouder past.

When he asks them to sit, she glances at the nearest wooden chair. Like the rest of the room, it is surprisingly clean. She sits. "Avisis Strangelight," she answers when he asks their names. "Avis, if you will. I am a sorceress for hire, hailing from Thesk. The bird is Ikkri. Don't be alarmed if you hear him speak."

Nerea tips her head at Rhenwald, smiling easily as she reclines against a nearby wall. "Nerea Maendellyn," she says, with subdued cheer. "I am a cleric in service of the Great Archer."

Kardalis fixes Rhenwald with an intent stare, as if trying to ascertain something about him solely from his eyes.
"Kardalis Vasque-Oblodra, no other titles, in service of none but Amra for the time"

"Ikkri", Rhenwald echoes, pulling out a tinderbox and a smoking pipe. "A raven, huh. Must be the smartest one here".

"You what, a sword for hire?" the ranger replies to Kardalis, keeping the eye contact. "You got some scars, I can see that, but all I want to know is what you're good at. Besides killing, of course. Sorcs and clerics are clear enough, but what kind of beast are you?" In a slow, measured manner he stuffs the pipe's chamber with fine tobacco.

"I'm good at thinking, good at hearing, good at seeing. Exactly how I go about my work...well I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually. The mystery is all the more enjoyable, abbil" Kardalis responds in a plain tone, neither excited nor intimidated.

It does not take Imarra much time to find her little familiar under a thick bush not far from the path they walked before. A sharp thorn scratches along the back of her hand as she helps Nadra out of the bush and up onto her shoulder "Now stay with me, nothing bad will happen with that dog, I'll protect you.".

A bit after the others entered the hut Imarra arrived back. Seeing it likely the others went inside Imarra asked the spirits for permission in Rashemi and knocked on the door. "Hello, I am Imarra Dyernina. I am with the others that were just here." she says as polite as she can, hoping the people inside can hear her well enough.

Hearing Imarra’s voice, Nerea straightens, opening the door and allowing her inside. “You’re just in time,” she says with a grin. “Our good ranger here was just in the middle of insulting us.”

Cyrus sniggers a little, shaking his head.
"Well, looks like we got ourselves a comedian alright", he says, as if not speaking directly to Kardalis. "I fucking love these mysterious types. Can never say a single clear, coherent thing".

Hearing a knock on the door, he curses under his breath, but sits back, as Nerea walks off to welcome another guests. The ranger greets Imarra with an inquisitive stare.
"And what about you? What's your role in this troupe of misfits?"
The large dog startles a little in the presence of a feline, but the hunter calms her down with a gentle pat on the head, and the beast sits back, completely serene.

Nadra clings to Imarras shoulder, watching every movement of the dog besides the hunter. "See I told you." the witch whispers, gently nudging the cat with her temple. To the question of the dark haired hunter she looked to the others, mouthing "misfits?", before turning back to Cyrus and answering "I am from Rashemen, traveling to see the world for myself. Aiding with the supportive and offensive magic would likely be my role, or that I practice wizardry, whichever seems more informative. But I am curious, what aspect of this group seems misfit to you?."

“I’d like to know that as well,” Nerea says, as she wanders the room and places a hand on the back of Avis’s chair, leaning against it. Her tone dry, she adds, “I, for one, think myself remarkably well-adjusted.”

"Now that is a proper answer", the ranger replies, pointing the tip of his pipe at Imarra. "You've got to be joking, right? I bet y'all barely even know how this little group of yours came to be. If anything I'd wager some of you wouldn't even work together if it wasn't for the money our dear reverend Braegen is paying you".

He raises his eyebrows and squints a little.
"Say, you Rashemi? Haven't I met an associate of yours recently? Tammith Chergoba, her name was. Had this vicious badger with her and spoke something about her being on a 'dajemma'".

The question of the ranger is quite strange to Imarra. She guesses that she is not meant by the second part, unless he knows something she doesn't. But the first part seems rather obvious to her. They were asked if they would help and joined for the agreed price.

Cyrus's mention of a fellow Rashemi brings a shine onto Imarra's face "Oh, then you must be the Rhenwald who helped her against the orcs. Thank you very much Mister Rhenwald." and she bows towards him, twitching as Nadra digs her claws into her shoulder to stay as far away from the big dog as possible. "We are on the same journey and decided to split up to see more of the world and from different perspectives.".

Feeling Nerea's presence behind her, Avis scowls and scoots forward in her chair. "'Misfits' doesn't seem entirely inaccurate. We have two half-bloods, an aasimar, and a witch far from home. And it's no secret than some of us are only here for the money. Gods know you'd have to pay me to work with any clerics. Even Ikkri—"

As she looks to her elbow, however, she realizes the bird has vanished. She looks around and discovers him perched again on Nerea's shoulder, having hopped upwards when she drew near. Avis wrinkles her nose and faces forward again. "Even Ikkri's loyalty is easily bought, it seems."

"Oh, don't mention it. She was perfectly capable to fend for herself as it was", the ranger replied. "Tough young lady". He nodded, appreciative of the gesture. "If all Rashemi are like her, we can work together just fine. Oh, don't mind the dog. Lissie is good with other beasts. Isn't that right, Lissie?" The hunter scratches his dog's neck. "Used to have a cat at home years ago. They got along just fine".

He struck the flint against the steel a couple of times to produce a flame. Then lit up his pipe with smoldering tinder and shook it to put out the flame. Making several puffs to smoke the leaves through, he glanced over the entire group again and took a mouthful.

"Right. So when are you moving out? I'll be ready to go promptly. You all ate?"

Nerea runs her fingers gently along Ikkri's beak, smiling when he insistently nuzzles the palm of her hand. "I don't particularly have a preference," she replies. "I suppose I can join you, though I admit I think it would be a pity to retire so early. Perhaps I can introduce myself to the Cockatrice's proprietor and ask if the tavern is need of some entertainment." She hesitates, seeming thoughtful. "Of course, I'm also quite out of practice, so perhaps not."