Revenge Waiting to Happen

Cold, yet warm enough that the night is wet even as snow falls. All of which may make the eve feel even colder. Fortunately, there is pleasant shelter in the stone home on the mountain, and the hearth is well-fed to fend off any chill. It is in the light of the hearth, along with strategically-placed mana lamps that Verna enjoys a book in her usual chair. A comfortable situation as well as practical. Given recent events and the contents of their lounge, she is more and more uncomfortable leaving certain items unattended.

There's a gentle knock on the door before it opens. The two women had discussed at some length that a gentle knock on ones own door is preferable to startlement and tea on the floor. Particularly since books were in residence.

The door opens and Auranar is revealed, but not in a pleasant state. Her hair, which is normally carefully coifed is tossed and mussed. Her dress is torn in several places and her cloak is missing entirely. As is one of her gloves. Worse however is the darkening on her features. Hard to discern but there. The blood on her knuckles. The torn nature of the hose on her legs and the faint wetness on her cheeks that could be from the snow falling out of her hair... but isn't.

The gentle knocking (surely Auranar's wise suggestion) causes Verna to lower book rather than drop and turn slowly to offer a smile rather than startle. "Welcome home, Dearest, I trust your errand was-" Her words trail off as details register: the mussed hair (still charming), first. More concerning are the missing cloak, tears in her dress, and-

Now the book hits the floor as Verna bounds to her feet and partway to Aura at once. Rapid strides consume the remainder. Hands reach for her shoulders as her eyes begin to assess her from point-blank range. "What happened?!"

Those are definitely bruises forming on her face, and there's a tiny cut on her cheek that wasn't visible from far away. The way she initially flinches away from Verna's inspection suggests further - unseen injury, but Auranar ignores that in order to fall into Verna's touch with her own arms wrapping around her fiancee. She makes a small muffled noise and then she's gripping Verna like she's the last solid thing on earth. "I'm a terrible fighter!"

GAME: Verna rolls heal: (12)+22: 34

It is the visible injuries that Verna is first concerned of. Fortunately, these appear minor (in comparative terms). It is the flinch that causes her features to tighten most in a mixture of concern, but such is only briefly visible as Aura collapses to her. Verna is neither large nor sturdy, but she immediately does her best impersonation of solid in attempt to anchor her fiancee.

"You are home. You are safe. I am here," she assures softly, returning the embrace with slightly less clinging and more gentleness. She hopes. "On the contrary, you have ever been a fighter, Aura. You may not be skilled with sword or fists, but that is not the same."

Auranar cries, but her tears are intermingled with little sounds of pain. "I need to be better." She utters, sounding hopeless. Finally, after several long moments of letting herself expel some of her necessary emotions, she pulls away just far enough to look Verna in the eyes. "I wasn't a match for them at all. I should have been Verna. How can I help you and Dolan, and everyone else if I'm this weak?"

As much as her smile is contagious, so, too, is her pain; a sudden swelling ache that Verna attempts to contain. It yet shows in her eyes, however. "A match for whom? In what way? You are more than a match for me in fisticuffs. You are not weak. You are -you-, Love, and there is no one your equal. I adore you just the way you are."

Her frown shows some as she pauses. One hand briefly leaves Aura to lift and gesture. "Let Her judge you more fairly and justly than you judge yourself." With the beseechment, Verna calls upon the Harpist' attention to ensure Auranar is not even slightly near any readiness for final judgment. Triage is bypassed with a sudden surge of positive energy that should correct all. Save for, perhaps, the mussed coif.

"There. I adore you just the way you are, now. Please, tell me what happened."

GAME: Verna casts Heal. Caster Level: 19 DC: 23

There's a soft sigh of relief from Auranar, and she reaches up to touch her ribs. The gesture suggests that this is where the bulk of her pain had been. "It was... a group of men. I thought that they would just be silly. You know how people get in groups sometimes? But they came up to me and just..." Here her eyes start to water. "One of them punched me. No reason. No words. He just hit me."

She touches her face and she looks down. "I fell and they were all hitting and kicking. I didn't know what to do. I grabbed one of them by the foot and pulled. He fell down and the others got mad at me. Like they didn't expect me to fight back?"

Verna listens, casting hand returning to Aura to smooth her hair. Soothe? Correct what the spell could not? More contact? Likely all of the above. Something new begins to grow in her eyes, and it is not concern. Not entirely.

"You then left and eluded them?" There are other questions. So many questions... yet she fights to restrain them. This is Auranar's recounting.

"Not at first." Auranar murmurs, tilting her head into Verna's touch. "They were all so _angry_. They were yelling. Calling me all sorts of names. Then someone heard. One of the priests I think? I don't know. But they ran off and I... I just ran home." Fresh tears trickled down her cheeks.

Verna's touch is soft; her expression is less so with jaw tightened. "Whatever their faith, the priest's presence is blessed event." That thought softens her expression somewhat, though the fresh tears dissipates most of it.

Her hand shifts to wipe at Aura's cheeks. "I am grateful you are here, and sage. I regret that I was not there with you, for you.

She pauses for a few moments of silence before her restraint begins to crack. "Do you recall anything of them? Faces? Clothing? Words?" She looks down over Aura at the ripped dress and hose. "I cannot fathom why anyone might be angry with y-" a sharp halt, though she quickly recovers to make it only a stutter "-you."

Verna gets a watery smile from Auranar. "I'm glad I'm here too. It could have been worse I think if the priest hadn't come along. They were so angry Verna!" She hefts a sigh and tries to think back. "There were three of them. I think? All of them very large. They were wearing very... well their clothes were _not_ of the best quality. And they had swords. I'm so glad they didn't try to use them" She shudders here.

Things could have been _much_ worse then. She looks at Verna, hearing the stall in her voice and giving her a curious expression. "What's wrong Verna?"

Verna would have preferred not to know that it could have been so much worse... but ignorance is not a shield. On that note, she exhales and meets Aura's gaze anew. "My apologies. I fear that I brought this upon you. The venture while disguised with your dress and coat was unpleasant. It could have been much worse, but there were many desperate people deceived. We spared them from the lies, but not all would believe they were lies. Some may feel that we denied them their miracles."

"My..." Auranar falls silent as she listens to Verna explain and then she shakes her head. "So they're just attacking people who look like us? That's..." Terrible. Horrible.

She has her hands balled up into fists, and she moves away from Verna toward the fire a little bit. There's a dark fury in her dark eyed gaze. "I thought maybe... I don't know. That they knew I had a totem. Or maybe that they were hoping to steal my money. But not that they were just... attacking because of my dress!"

The mention of totem hardens Verna's countenance again, though her guilt still remains. It may be hypocritical of her to do so, but she reaches to hold Auranar's balled fists. "I expect they mistook you for me. I ..." she considers before admitting with some effort, "I do not fault them for their anger; they were deceived." That is the extent of her absolution.

"I -do- fault them for their actions. Their ire was misdirected. Their worker of miracles was a charlatan added by -fiends-, Aura. Fiends that invited all to join them beyond whatever hell their portal led to. We spared them from that, but they may see only that we denied them the lies promised."

"As well, the fiends, or there allies, know of the totems. One knows that I possess one. It is possible that they know of yours." She nearly shares that things could have been much, much worse, indeed. She is nearly glad that it was only angry citizens. Nearly.

Auranar turns toward Verna, but draws the other woman closer to the fire and herself. "It's not your fault Verna. They are the ones that attacked me. They chose to attack someone they didn't even know." She's more angry than sad now. "I don't care if they know that we have some of the totems Verna. Gods! I hope they come here!"

Furious she holds tightly to Verna's hand. Perhaps a touch too hard. "I hope they come and I get a chance to cast something truly nasty on them!"

Verna is easily led to be nearer her (best) and the fire (also pleasant) and would merrily be held by her Dearest even if she were being crushed. Preferably not crushed -too- much, as that would preclude future hugs.

"They will receive judgment, all," she notes firmly. It is agreement, not placation nor patronizing. "If any dare tread here seeking harm, they shall promptly regret it. Of that I have no doubts. It is only that I would prefer that our furniture, nor the libraries, not suffer for their foolishness."

A wry chuckle escapes Auranar as she hugs Verna to herself again. "Again you show yourself the wiser of us. Far more practical. I wouldn't want their blood and ashes all over our precious books either." It seems she does have a bit of a vicious streak in her after all. One rarely shown, but not entirely without cause. "Thank you Verna. For bringing me back to myself. For always being here to comfort me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You shall not be without me as I cannot be without you. Perhaps, however, we should be more cautious given events. Be more wary of strangers; protections for our home; coverings for the shelves and furniture." While she might disagree on who is wiser, Verna is assuredly practical.

The wild elf nods, agreeing completely with Verna. "A bath? For now?" She looks at the other woman hopefully. "Dinner and tea also sound like blessings. Though I'm in no mood to cook... And no mood to go out either. Do you think we could pay a messenger to deliver food to us?" She laughs.

Verna nods, the more relaxed and, especially, hopeful look from Aura cause a smile to creep across her lips. "A bath, indeed. Your injuries need cleaned and we cannot have you catching cold." That she was just healed and they stand next to a blazing hearth are utterly irrelevant details. "I will send for food and can brew tea well enough. You need not be concerned with any of it."

She gestures an arm with no exaggeration in rote imitation of gracious house servant, towards the bath. "Shall I escort you, m'lady? Would you prefer to be carried?" Her countenance has reverted to Verna neutral.

Auranar laughs again. "You say it like that and I can't tell if you're serious or not." She rolls her eyes and starts to drag the other woman upstairs. "I can walk in any case, and I don't want you to strain something carrying me. Nor for you to waste your energy on _that_." Her tone is light and playful but also intent.

-End