LOCATION : Deepwoos, north of The Crones' hut Date/Time : 7th of Zarantyr 910k, late - making camp for the night. WHO : Zenon, Ambrosia It was after the encounter with the “Crones”, powerful sisters who had existed for longer than even elves would fathom, the witches having revealed much to the overzealous party of adventurers. They had freely given valuable information, shedding light on the group’s quest and while Ambrosia had thought that that alone was more than enough aid from the suspicious women, but the crones had done more. Recently resurrected, Ambri learned of what the corruption she’d been bestowed with truly was, and had been offered a chance to be freed of it. Ambrosia thought on the events of that day as she sat beside her pack, the featureless book she recorded in not having been used in quite a while… The three Crones had done something to the soldier, and displeasurable though vomiting all that repugnant black slime had been; Ambri did feel better than she had since gaining Isadorn’s corruption… For a change Ambri had been able to lend a hand with the setup of camp, and with everything seeming settled for the night the soldier would wait until Zenon looked free of any other duties, looking up at him from where she sat as she nonchalantly asked the paladin “Do you still remember how to play dragonchess?” Zenon had suggested that it was probably not the time to be giving a massage, so the woman relented and suggested the game of strategy instead. Unrolling three sheets of chequered skins, the patterning perfectly symmetrical even by standards of dragonchess as Ambrosia had drawn these herself, while Zenon would notice that there was one extra playing piece that was beautifully carved compared to the others. It was possible Zenon would recognize it as Asher’s handywork, however Ambrosia would not address the extra piece and only leave it to the side, like it was looking over their boards. … “So we have learned, what had been causing my debilitating cough.” Ambrosia said plainly while it was her move, her brown eyes still on the board as the two had been playing for a little while. “I can’t say I’m glad, that would not be an accurate description of what I think on the mark of corruption; but it has helped me to think on what steps to take because of it.” At that Ambrosia would look up at her betrothed, wanting to see what he thought while she moved to defend a piece on the air board, her cleric who was being threatened to be immobilised by Zenon’s basilisk piece. An extremely good defensive move, but Zenon had usually been better at Dragonchess after he had gotten used to playing with Ambrosia; he had figured out the strategies that the medic worked. “I hope you do not think less of me…” Ambri said to him, eyes on the board as she scanned it for her next move, her index finger tapping on a corner square, four times. “I know you must have wanted me to take the offer of the three sisters, and be rid of the corrupting mark… But I asked you what Dol Arrah teaches simply because I believe in shouldering your burdens, and I hoped that you might begin asking those questions yourself once more. What is it that the sovereign host teaches, what is it that Dol Arrah asks of me in any situation?” At that, Ambrosia smiled. An extremely rare expression for the dark and serious young woman! But Zenon had seen her smile before, had probably seen Ambrosia smiling more than anyone else, since it was Zenon who was the cause of it. She hadn’t needed her book for a while now - Her allies not getting injured, and not having coughed in many horus. Ambrosia was glad, she was feeling almost to her own self again, aware that her book had been put away and not being needed. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ LOCATION : Deepwoods, Camp north of the Crones' hut Date/Time : 8th of Zarantyr 910k, Early Morning WHO : Kane, Ambrosia It was early in the morning the day after the party had interacted with the crones in the Deepwoods, Ambrosia waking up rather early as she usually had, before being corrupted. The fighter felt incredible, the ritual the Crones had performed made it feel like she could breathe again, the woman not having told the others what had transpired when the Crones had been alone with her though surely they would all be figuring out that Ambrosia was doing much better, and so Ambri had no intention of letting them all know that this bout of constitution would probably not last for very long. She’d decided - picking up her shield - that so long as she had the strength to keep fighting then she would do so. Perhaps she would be strong enough to keep the corruption from eating away at her, at least for a while. That thought in mind Ambri tried not to wake Zenon as she got up and looked for the other fighter in their midst; “Kane?” It was rather early, and Ambri hoped to gently wake him up, so if he’d not stirred at the accented whisper of his name then Ambri would nudge Kane gently with the base of her kite shield. “I’d like to train with you, before we need to pack up and move on.” She’d tell him, Ambrosia’s experience suggesting that Kane would always like to pick up his weapon when he had a chance. “You are the likeliest choice of a training partner for me this early in the morning, and I quite like practicing against you.” Ambrosia stated, her words as ever coming forth calmly and seriously. The woman often would seem to be quite cold, but her words had to be taken at face value and Kane might believe that she really did enjoy training with him. Once they’d have the chance to spar a little, Kane would figure out that since speaking to the Crones Ambrosia was doing much better, only stopping to cough the once and not stopping short of breath ever during the practice they went through. Ambrosia really looked okay. “You don’t fight like any soldier I’ve known.” Ambrosia would say through some light sparring, her serious gaze just barely visible from over her shield as the soldier kept her eyes on Kane. “Maybe at some point, you’ll trust me enough to tell me where you learned to use your weapons.” Her words came as calmly as usual, without any ounce of accusation, as the soldier moved forward to swing a non-lethal attack at the other fighter. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ LOCATION : Deepwoods, Just outside of camp. Date/Time : 8th of Zarantyr 910k, Morning WHO : Lorzub, Ambrosia The sun had properly risen just after the morning training Ambri had forced on Kane, Ambrosia still feeling like she had the energy to move and act and help pack up the camp. Excellent. It was what the soldier was hoping for, if anything the light spar had proven that Ambri was at least in a decent fighting condition, which put many of the medic’s worries at ease as she went to her things to mark down her current condition. Having done that and having efficiently packed up the little that was used to make the simple camp, the group not needing much just so they could sleep between rowing up the deepwoods river, Am at some point found herself re-reading the old torn-out page of a ledger. She’d read the same lines again, and again, and again, and again- she had to stop. Ambri knew that they all must move on as soon as possible, but she couldn’t just sit there and be unproductive, it would drive the fighter mad! So she shouldered her pack, moved to Lorzub who seemed about done packing his own things up. “Good morning. I know we must continue our journey as soon as we can, but we used up most of the healing potions Monroe had helped me make in our battles against the order. Provided that you had not gathered more, while I was dead, I would like to make more before we find ourselves in need of them. But this place is alien to me, so I would appreciate your help in finding the herbs I would need. Lorzub would you mind?” Ambrosia would speak in the same way she usually did, not interrupted by any bothersome coughing. During their search Ambri would endeavour not to dally, knowing that healing potions might be necessary for them all but at the same time conscious that the others might finish packing up the campsite if she and Lorzub spent too long searching. “Zenon told me that a diamond found on Yuni was used to resurrect me.” Ambrosia would note on the subject of her death, while the two were still searching “I do not possess the divine magic required to perform these powerful spells, which is of course, unfortunate, but I have an understanding of how they function. A large sum was spent in order for me to be resurrected, and I now feel like I owe the troupe that and then some. I am ashamed to admit that I have no idea how I might pay that back, I do not believe that the cost can be covered by my other contributions….” She huffed, the only visible sign of her frustration as Ambri would, like always, keep a rather serious expression fixed to her tan eyes and lips. But it did not seem like she wanted to be quiet, or keep things from the Gatekeeper. In all honestly Lorzub seemed rather dependable; she didn’t feel like she would be burdening him if the two spoke. ”Also, I must apologize.” Ambrosia calmly said “I realise I have been doing much of that lately, and you all are the kind of people to tell me something to the effect of “Think nothing of it”, but still I have to be clear; I’d feel as though I was deceiving you if I’m not.” Ambri would look up at Lorzub, “up” because the fearsome gatekeeper was a good deal taller than her! But somehow, that had never phased the female soldier. “I realise, that you would have liked the corruption bestowed on me by Isadorn to be gone. The three Crones had offered me this option, and I did not take it. You on the other hand had been hoping to have me healed of the mark all along. So, sorry I chose differently than you would have.” She said, honestly thankful that Lorzub would even be willing to bring up the mark of Corruption to the three sisters to begin with. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ LOCATION : Deepwoods, En route to The Gatekeeper Library Date/Time : 8th of Zarantyr 910k, Evening, setting up for camp WHO : Monroe, Ambrosia The second day of travel up the Deepwoods river had been uneventful in comparison to the first, no ancient powers from the dawn of time inviting the group into their home for dinner! No world threatening revelations being made, no life-ending quests being given. All in all a nice day. Ambrosia might have forgotten that they were en-route to The Gatekeeper Library to find a way to stop a Daelkyr invasion, but the young woman was far too serious to be flippant about something like that. As such, once she and her allies had had to stop for the evening, Ambrosia immediately set out to be as efficient a member of the group as she can. She would approach Monroe who had also been recently resurrected, with a pack of whatever herbs she and Lorzub had managed to gather in the morning before heading off. “It’s good to see you in your old shape. Do you still remember how to brew potions?” Ambrosia would ask, her herbalism kit which was packed up neatly, in hand and ready to be used. Monroe’s assistance would have been just as before, invaluable, Ambrosia able to work on the herbs with the confidence that an experienced brewer was there to aid her. It was… rather nice. While the two had worked in relative silence, Ambri felt it was worth pointing out “I feel like I owe our group a great deal, not just my resurrection, my failure in protecting you all, when you had without suspicion allowed me to travel with you and helped me to save a man that you, Monroe, had never even met before.” “But you all continue to assist me. In all honesty, I wouldn’t have thought of it as strange if we parted ways after we had managed to free the mind of Zenon. But I am glad we did not...” She thought for a while, what the serious woman’s thoughts were would have been anyone’s guess right then, since when Ambri would speak up once more the woman would choose to change the subject slightly. “Thank you for doing this with me, the potions. The assistance is vital so as not to waste any of the herbs we found, and talking with you is always very calming, you have some aura about you. You are right to be angry with me for leaving your side during the fight for Zenon, if you still are angry, but I hope you believe that I am overjoyed that you are alive and with us now. Not only would I have known it was my fault if you perished, I would have really missed you.” Ambrosia said honestly, the diligent female speaking to Monroe while the two continued working on the potions. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ LOCATION : Deepwoods, Entrance to the Gatekeeper Library Date/Time : 9th of Zarantyr 910k, just after Yambul WHO : Ambrosia, Amari, Asher, (Kane, Monroe, Zenon and Lor'zub). Where Zenon had been the first to go down the stairs leading to the library of the gatekeepers, in utter contrast Ambrosia and Amari had been last. With an army marching against them, several giants in their midst as well as atrocities and winged creatures, the soldier stood with her shield raised waiting in the hopes that everyone would move back safely, that was when the lionfolk - Amari, had tried to help Ambrosia by speaking with Yambul for her, even at the precipice of a terribly urgent battle! Amari had hoped to free Ambrosia of her corruption, but before the soldier could respond Yambul bid them both take shelter in the Library. Complying, Ambrosia and Amari eventually followed after their allies, Zenon calling out from within for them all to follow as well. Yambul in an awesome display of his capability, took on the force of the order’s giants as they attacked, simultaneously sealing the entrance to the Gatekeeper Library by molding earth and stone around them. Ambrosia and all the adventuring party were made safe from the encroaching army of the OHF, afforded a head start at the very least as the route behind them had been sealed, but at a great price as the thunderous sounds of Gatekeeper Yambul fighting against the Order’s giants could still be heard from where the adventurers remained. The exertion of their flight would normally been nothing to the seasoned fighter, but as Amari and the others were on the stairs leading down into the library, Ambrosia began to cough. It was the same cursed cough which she had gotten for bearing the Mark of Corruption, droplets of blood always accompanying the black stains which would litter the thick fabric the healer had tied to her sleeve in order to keep the corruption from being spread anywhere else. “He waits two thousand years to do something NOW?!” The angry voice of Lorzub could be heard from just a few steps further, Ambrosia frowning but saying nothing to him as instead she removed her pack diligently to switch on her hooded lantern and fasten it to her armour, withdrawing her plain book and carefully recorded her vital signs once more. She could have sighed, telling herself that she was imagining things as she looked over all the notes, not considering for a moment that her extensive notes on her own health was overkill. As Ambrosia did this Lorzub had turned to Amari, perhaps feeling as though discussing Yambul’s actions with another gatekeeper would bring him some peace, spitting the words “Urag is all 'Oh yeah, you should go to The Library'. No shit! Urag Yambul the Wise sits on his ass for FOUR MONTHS, when he lives TWO DAYS from here." before he would move down the stairs a bit, grumbling to himself. Amari might have wanted to go after Lorzub, but the lionfolk would feel Ambrosia’s hand placed on his broad shoulder. “Amari,” the soldier spoke to him, looking displeased with their current situation as Lorzub was, though the serious woman was not about to express herself in the same way the more volatile Gatekeeper was. “I did not want to interrupt you and Lorzub, but it did need to be said; Thank you.” Ambrosia’s brown eyes looked up to Amari, her expression betraying that despite her calm tone, Am was very much not happy with Yambul’s seeming sacrifice. “Thank you for calling me over to Yambul, despite the threats which surrounded us. You did it to give me the chance to pass on the mark of corruption.” She took a breath. “I have not had the chance to know you very long, but I feel I know what kind of person you are a little better now, and I am thankful that I shall have you fighting at my side for the conflicts that lie in wait in the future.” She would lower her hand, still not happy with Yambul’s decision, but recognising that the Gatekeeper had acted so that the war might be won. She didn’t feel good about it, Ambrosia’s right hand moving to the left - tan fingers being ran down the length of her forearm with a very repetitive fashion. But Ambrosia was clearly not the only one who had noticed Lorzub’s volatile reaction, her fiance Zenon looking after the Gatekeeper as he began down the stairs of the library; grumbling words of frustration under his breath as he went. It was with little thought that she accepted the words “Everyone get ready. We start moving through this library in ten minutes.” as a order, Ambrosia moving only slightly to the left of where she stood and took a seat on the steps, pushing her back and pack against the wall so that she could lean back and rest now that she knew they would stop for a brief time. Am would look down a little ways to where Zenon had stopped Lorzub, thinking to herself that Zenon must not be too harsh with their ally. The way Ambrosia saw it, Lorzub too hated that Yambul was putting his life at stake for the sake of the troupe, Lorzub’s anger being a way for him to process the sacrifice which he found more manageable than a feeling guilt. She was sure this was the case, not in a baseless sense; knowing how soldiers had reacted in the battles which she had served in, each of them dealing with another’s sacrifice differently, and never once were those who survived happy with the sacrifice of their ally. But it was more than that with Lorzub. Ambrosia knew the Gatekeeper, or rather the man, and all while he was railing against Yambul and his choice to act in such a fashion Ambrosia recalled, a conversation where she had asked Lorzub if he would have liked for his fellow Gatekeepers to help him on this difficult task. She remembered vividly still, that Lorzub had in the end answered “Yes” to that question. Some peace came over Ambri when she saw from where she was seated that Zenon had reached out to Lorzub, his stance not one which was aggressive so the woman turned her head back forward. She trusted Lorzub and Zenon both, so despite not seeing the two of them interact much in the short time that Zenon had been de-thralled the soldier trusted that they could work things out on their own. It was Asher who would break the main group’s silence as he took a breath, Ambri paying him mind when the gnome began to speak, but their group’s littlest leader had sounded all but worriedly pessimistic. Ambrosia stayed seated where she was, staring at Asher with a look of disbelief on her normally calm features, one which remained as she responded to the heartfelt words that the honest and heroic ranger had spoken “I will agree with you partly; When you call us family; what I once called brothers in arms, are not linked by a bond of blood - but of respect. And joy. In each other’s lives.” Ambrosia said, surely not just agreeing with Asher “So yes, we are family, and I am proud to call ourselves a family because when everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching? They are the ones you can be justified in calling your family.” Thus far she had agreed with him, and was working towards her point; “Asher, don’t bury us just yet.” The woman said this with a stern tone, and a look of absolution in her eyes which were as ever brown - and determined. “You said yourself, there are no others you would rather fight along side. So fight with us.” Ambrosia shook off her almost berating tone, treating Asher once more as an equal rather than whatever the woman’s ideals had been for a figurative “leader”. “Rejoice with your family in the land of life.” Ambri said and rested back once again, the fighter having learned long past that any chance to rest was precious, and how foolhardy it would be to waste the chance to sleep for even a few minutes. “We may have hard times ahead of us,” she lightly coughed, keeping her body relaxed and her eyes closed “But we shall be just fine.” ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ LOCATION : Deepwoos, North of the City of Zarash'ak - rowing upriver Date/Time : 7th of Zarantyr 910k, evening WHO : Asher, Ambrosia, crew. It was after Ambrosia’s resurrection when the adventuring party had set out for the Library of the Gatekeepers, nearly directly after her regaining her consciousness so that there was little chance for the soldier to rest, less chance for her to deal with the death of her little companion - a kitten which had been gifted to her not long prior by a friend. Ambrosia’s cough was ailing her, the fabric which she’d folded and tied to her sleeve becoming choked with blood and black bile which seemed to be seething from her since she’d been infected. It was disheartening and frustrating and exhausting all in unison. The fighter felt like she had little use, the group trying to get out of the city unseen and she couldn’t even perform the completely basic task of taking a turn rowing their boat, almost all of the others having done so by that point and some of the group looked to be resting for a moment, even Zenon. All the while Ambri was left alone with some of her most toxic thoughts. What if she was too sick to heal the others, what if she was careless and got the others infected with whatever it was that then plagued her, what if Ollandra’s death was her doing in earnest, and Ambrosia might kill the others in her party? It was torment to think on, and without realising it Ambrosia’s right hand had moved to run down her left forearm, Ambri counting the motions. ' One. Two. Three. Four.' 'One. Two. Three. Four.' 'One. Two. Three. Four.' “Ugh, this is so frustrating .” She would admit quietly to herself, but ones words could not be so private when 7 individuals had been sat on just one small vessel, Ambri realising that Asher who was the closest to the woman besides Zenon, had likely also heard her. “I’m sorry, it’s nothing.” She sighed, having a harder time than usual keeping her expression calm, feeling a good deal more unhinged than she was accustomed to dealing with, a pained look on her features. “Ollandra, I wasn’t expecting… I am glad you were there when I buried her.” Am admitted, speaking with more emotion in her tone than most would be used to hearing from the serious individual, Ambri having a hard time breathing at a steady rate when her stability was being constantly offset by fits of painful coughing. “I just, really thought she would have longer. I’m glad you met her, and buried an apple seed for her, it might be silly to say but even if no one has a way of knowing the thoughts of the burried, the idea of leaving behind something so pure and simple is nice.” She said “As though, it doesn’t matter what things she had gone through, in the end there is a apple tree to mark her passing - and that is all. She would like that.” Ambri breathed with difficulty, choking like she’d been breathing in a burning world or crushing dirt. “You took care of her, it is good. Good that she had the chance to be with such driven people. She was a clever little thing - you know. She was young but she actually learned a little bit while she was alive. I don’t think anyone had really expected it.” But why did she need to tell Asher all this? He had known Ollandra, he even took care of her. “She was doomed, wasn’t she? From the beginning- though she couldn’t have known it, no matter how healthy she seemed I think she was always doomed from the beginning. No one could have seen it really, not until the very end, isn’t that worse though?” came the question “Not being prepared for it, not her, or anyone. It’s so sad.” A shaky breath was taken while Am continued to count the number of times she ran her fingers down her left forearm, repeating the motion, the same actions over and over in what seemed a terrible endless cycle. “I miss her. It’s silly, thinking on how inconsequential she was in the scheme of all things, but she meant something to someone. Is that stupid? To miss her when she didn’t matter to grander schemes.” Ambrosia spoke, trying to peer through the darkness but it was of little use, the light was not enough.
