I've Had Enough, Part 2

It's been nearly an hour of climbing, and the storm has shown no signs of abating, the wind swirling around you in a world of white. Fortunately, the paths are well-marked and protected in this area, so going over a cliff is not particularly likely to happen unless one is supremely unconscious. It's cold, and wet.

And the wrapped sword Malik carries, which had been blessedly quiet for the last hour, pipes up. "Where, exactly, are we going again, and what are we wrapped in? Hardly a fitting scabbard."

The Gobbo is cold, and looking rather miserable. Her violin is safely stored once more, and she's got her furs pulled in close. She trods as carefully as she can in Malik's footsteps, without which she'd be unable to keep up. Acedia huffs. "Be quiet! Recall that you chased off the man who had your proper scabbard on his belt.", the Gobbo says to the blade. "We are looking for Seldan. There's like, dozens of you in there and you can so casually forget? What are you, goldfish?"

"There is a reason that we call in priests to put the dead to rest when they linger on for too long," Malik grumbles to nobody in particular. "Once upon a time, tribes used to honor such beings as holy spirits. And then, over time, they realized that death makes you no smarter than you were in life. Or less insufferable," he sighs. Glancing at the sword, wherever it may be at the moment, he adds, "Unless you want Seldan to join you in there shortly, which I haven't ruled out yet, some advice on mountaineering from one of you would be appreciated." He stops, glancing around the white cliffs, trying to catch his breath in the bitter cold. "Why didn't he simply fly out? We should have seen him by now."

Quilani is a little less cold. In fact, she seems to be handling the cold rather well. The sword had more or less been held in Quil's hands this entire time, keeping it tightly wrapped up. At some points, it'd be stuffed in the pit of her arm or carried like a stick. She certainly wasn't a gigantic fan of it talking, but at the last question, she slows her walking speed and looks down at it.

"Hold on. Has Seldan actually ever used you before? Like, wielded you in battle? And pick a voice, and stick to it."

Malik's question gets a slightly annoyed sigh. "Okay, I'm going to say this a little louder. I don't have any experience being outside of town, I'm not a tracker, I'm not a fighter and while we're adding things to the pile, I've never been on a mountain. I'm used to cities and swamps. If we find a swampy city mountain, I might be able to help but until then, I'm just as lost up here are you two are."

The voice that answers Acedia is a different one again, the older female with the nasal quality. "No, he ran off, honey. There's a difference. We know that perfectly well, but ... we don't know where exactly we are." The tone is one of enduring patience. "It is less than a day that we have been able to feel him more than vaguely, and ... we can't see very far around us. It is limiting, being in a sword. Has he wielded us before? I cannot say for certain, but this blade has definitely grown in power since first we touched. I think it likely, yes."

Another voice, a gruff male pops up. "Well, if that is wind I am hearing around us, flying is dangerous."

Almost at once, the nasal woman chimes in. "Enough, Golain. You're confusing these children. He is right, though -- if what we are hearing is wind, any attempt to fly might be difficult."

The Gobbo bounces off of Malik when he stops, ending upon her behind in the snow. She snorts and shakes her head, slowly standing up. "If he'd had flown, Malik, he'd be much farther ahead and we'd have no way of finding him. He could be several mountains over, yanno?" Acedia gestures as the looming mountain overhead. "The Eagle-folk are up there. Maybe we could go to them to help organize a search party. They could probably find him quick."

She looks to Quilani and giggles. "Yeah, I'm from the Sandseas. Veyshanti. If this was a warm, comfortable desert, we'd have him by now." The Gobbo lets out a lengthy sigh. She peers at the blade. "We're near the abandoned Khazak fortress up the mountain, perhaps one or two mountains over from where Alexandria sits. We're not flying. And why not look through one of us to see, hmm? Surely one of us could channel you?"

"No," Malik says to the Sith-Makar woman, his voice patient. "YOu have not been outside of the city. And you have no experience with mountains," he agrees. "Which is half of the reason you are ideal here, right now. You have never been on a mountain. The strangeness that can occur in mountains isn't so well known to you that you might overlook it, as we may. The Sith are an industrious and perceptive people, in my experience. If anyone is likely to ask about something strange, it's someone that has never seen the 'typical' manner of strange in the snow." HE turns back to Quilani, smiling. "You are more useful than you give yourself credit for."

Turning to Acedia, he offers a sigh. "The ghosts in the sword have one good point. Flying is dangerous. But I think it might be a decent option." He glances over to Quilani again, then back to Acedia. "Can you watch over here while I fly up and see if there is anything to be seen?"

Quilani stops walking along with everyone else, holding onto the sword as it seemingly answered her question, however oddly. She then takes the sword's hilt out of the cloth and raises it to her nose, sniffing it a little bit. (I'm attempting to use scent on the sword's hilt to try and suss out if she can pick up on Seldan's own scent.)

After that, she looks up towards Malik with a moderately confused expression before answering. "That's one of the...oddest compliments I've ever received but...thank you? I'll stay here just...be careful alright?" She adjusts her glasses with a free hand. "I don't think either of us can catch you if you drop out of the air from too high."

Acedia squints at Malik. "So you want to fly up and get lost, like Seldan has? I can see, Malik. Everything that is close by. But once you have gone more than a stone's throw, you will vanish from mine eyes." She frowns at the man. "Then I'll have two friends I'm trying t'find on t'side of a mountain in a storm!" She crosses her arms and huffs. Glancing to Quilani, she raises an eyebrow at the Sith's sniffing of the hilt. Wrinkling her nose, she looks to Malik. "Got any of his shirts or anything on you?", she wonders. "Maybe Sniffy here can track him by his scent?"

Quilani huffs out a cold sigh. "That is not becoming a nickname. That is not going to be a thing."

Malik blinks, looking at Acedia. "Do I have a -- shirt?" He shakes his head. "I share a bed with the man. I'm not some manner of strange stalker," he laughs. Still, he considers it, clearly, turning to rifle in that bag over his shoulder a moment. Blinking, he glances to Acedia, pointing. "Not a -word-," he sighs... then pulls out a shirt. With two large slits in the back of it, the thing practically ruined. Handing it to Quilani, he says, "You might have an easier time with this."

But he takes a breath, pushing off of the ground slightly -- and he doesn't stop, up and up and up he goes, eyes scanning the surroundings as he turns. Clearly, it's a struggle, though. The wind is whipping around at gale force that far off the mountain, if his cloak is any indication. Frowning, he starts to make his way back down -- when the wind grabs him once more, the wizard trying to correct. Unfortunately, he fails, and the wind smashes him into the face of the cliff, the man tumbling back down to the ground as he lands a few feet from Acedia, groaning and slightly bloodied.

The Gobbo snorts when Malik does indeed produce a shirt, and giggles madly at Sniffani for a few moments. "We don't get to pick our own nicknames. It's not proper." She eyes Malik as he takes flight, and she pulls her pack off, setting it aside. Acedia stares up into the sky, her eyes tracking the man. She tsks and huffs... and then squeaks as he smacks into the cliff face, and rolls down to the ground at her feet. Dropping to her knees, the Gobbo mutters something in Goblin-talk, her hands beginning to glow. "I'm only healing you up so that I can smack you for that stunt.", she mutters.

The shirt in Malik's possession is, indeed, well and truly ruined, but the slits appear to be intentional, rather than torn, and they're in the right spots on the back of the shirt to potentially accommodate ... wings? That makes no sense for a human, but there it is, and his scent is most definitely on it.

Malik's comment, though, makes the sword positively _erupt_ in a dozen voices. "He shares a bed with a man?" "Hush, you did it yourself and you were proud of it." "I NEVER!" "What about the family? There's a reason they are called the family jewels, you know." "Oh never mind that, it isn't as if you did your duty that way." The cacophony quickly becomes a headache to listen to. Anything else it might have said is utterly lost in the argument.

Quilani 's earfins fold in as she's both insulted and handed a shirt to sniff instead. She makes a snorting, derisive noise at the mere thought of being referred to as Sniffy before tending to the scent nonsense. Thankfully, she'd gathered his scent from the sword, and starts to re-cover it in it's cloth at about the same time the wizard both has an uneventful liftoff...and a far more eventful landing.

Quil raises her hand with one extended finger, her voice nearing a melodic, nearly mocking tone. "A reminder that I can heal physical wounds but mental wounds of your own doing are out of my jurisdiction." Her voice returns to normal as she starts to crouch. "Let's try something that won't result in either an avalanche or a one way trip." She starts to sniff again, this time to see if she could pick up on Seldan's scent and what direction it might be headed. If at all. The wind was gonna make this hard, no matter what.

Malik is battered, and a little bloodied, but conscious overall. Maybe in a bit of pain, but the largest wound is clearly to his pride as he just looks up at the sky, mouth pursed tightly as Acedia heals him. It's clear that he's looking for words to recover from this particularly embarassing situation -- but then? Then the sword is talking, and he's back on his feet, ignoring what the damnable pieceof steel is saying. For the most part. The anger on his face, though, tells a whole different story -- but that one is for some later moment, when someone's life isn't on the line.

"That's it!", Acedia huffs. She waits for Quilani to be distracted by inhaling Seldan's musk, and then the Gobbo takes up the blade by the handle, and moves towards one of the cliffs nearby. "You do not seem to understand the situation, so I am gonna make it clear. You. You assist your wielder. You do not get to have a say in how he lives. So for now I am going to pitch you off this cliff, and perhaps another few decades will mellow you out."

She moves resolutely towards the cliff, and leans back, as if to pitch the blade into the snowy night.

As Acedia raises the sword to fling it into the night, the older female voice, the nasal one, cuts through the argument like a hot knife through butter. "_ENOUGH!_ All of you, we've got to stop arguing and _help_ these children. Now hush, we'll discuss his choice of bedmate with him later." There's a very conciliatory note in the woman's voice as she addresses Acedia. "Put us down, sweetie. We really can help you, and he'll definitely be upset if you fling us into the night. All right? We'll help you find him. I'm not surprised your friend took a tumble, that's a rough wind out there. Is he all right?"

Quilani has about enough time to get a decent lock on the scent on the cliff-side before the covered sword is simply taken from her. She does make an attempt to keep it in her hands, but her grip is not sufficent, letting it slide from her fingers, and leaving her with just the cloth. And for good measure, the sith-makar stumbles forward a tinge, her hands placed deep into the snow.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa hey. Let's not be hasty. What if you toss it down and you hit a pile of snow that trigger an avalanche? I get that it's annoying. Believe me. -I REALLY GET IT AND CAN SYMPATHIZE.- But it is Seldan's. And the better thing to do is to keep it safe until we get it to him....and then presumably charge him payment for it's safety. And hey look. Double bonus. It knows what self preservation is."

She gives a good natured grin before pushing herself up again. "I can at least tell you that he did not fly. He walked up here. And the longer we mess around, the more I'm going to lose his scent and then we'll really be lost. Also, did either of you think to bring any outdoorsy stuff? Like...the cloth triangles you sleep in? You pitch it? It has sticks and strings? Tints? Tinctures? Something like that?"

Lastly she speaks towards the sword, passing a glance towards Malik. "He's fine. Now if you are going to help us, pick a voice, stick with it, and only spoke when spoken to. Okay? I think that's fair? Also do so quickly before either of these two freeze."

Glancing at teh other two, he starts moving again. "If our new friend is losing the scent, though, that's bad. ANd it means that we need to hurry. As for shelter -- we need not worry about that yet. If it comes to it, I have an idea."

Acedia is surprised at the sword's change of heart, and also by its sudden flight back to Malik's hand. She frowns and crosses her arms. "That's why I was going to pitch it off the side. It should survive the fall." She peers at the blade. "Only gonna say it once, sword. You will find Seldan. And you and he will make peace. I don't have long in this world, but I swear by every god worthy of worship that I will spend the rest of my life making yours miserable if you keep making Seldan unhappy. And don't call me sweetie ever again. I'm a Gobbo, lady, and I will chew you up." She resolutely marches to her pack, and shoulders its burdens once more. "Alright... let's see if we can get to him, yeah?"

"We're a sword, remember? If you are standing in the snow berating us, we have no power to make you move along. If you are not moving, and you are chilled, that is your doing, not ours." At least this time it's a nasally female voice - and a single voice, its tone patiently explanatory. "Very well, Gobbo. Do you have a name, or shall I call you by your behavior? Threats will not help you find your friend."

Quilani moderately wishes she had a snack food to properly commemorate the obvious comraderie on display. But being in a blizzard on a mountain, simple shivering will have to suffice. She takes a moment to clean her glasses before moving ahead of the group a little bit, just a few steps to urge them to stop yapping,a nd start walking again.

"Can we walk...and talk please? I'd just go on ahead but I'm pretty sure we'll lose each other fast. So come on. Let's go."

Malik just shakes his head. "Let's go," he suggests, quietly. "We have no idea how long this will take, or how long the scent will hold out. Assuming that we find him before sundown." And with that, he simply continues forward, letting Quilani lead along the scent trail to whatever destination it takes them.

Acedia snorts. "Well you've not been so forthcoming, but I guess I can go first. My name is Acedia.", the Gobbo offers, while falling in behind the Sith. Glancing to Malik, she cants her head slightly. "Are you feeling better?", she asks quietly. "I have more healing in me if you need."

The snow is still coming down at a good clip, but the wind is beginning to slack off a little, and the damply chill air presses in around you. At least the wind is no longer going _through_ you. The sword has fallen blessedly silent for now, and following the scent traces is easy enough for a little while, until they - disappear entirely about halfway across a stone bridge with low walls. It spans a small gap between peaks on the mountainside, and the canyon below is looking very snow-covered, indeed. It's a beautiful sight, really.

Quilani is content to just let the other two talk while she led the way. This was...something. Up here, away from the town, searching for a man she barely knew because it was the right thing to do. At the very least, it'd make for a story later. For the time being though, she continues to trudge until the wind becomes a bit less biting, which alerts her to the upcoming bridge.

She sniffs a few more times and then stops walking, gesturing out towards the bridge. "His scent trail ends here. Which means either your friend decided to fly here or...well I'd rather not think about the latter too much." She adjusts her glasses again, the frames nearly completely coated in snow.

"So what do we do now?"

Malik steps out onto the bridge, stopping when Quilani says the trail ends. He frowns at the notice. "Which means, he either turned and headed back the way he came -- but we would have spotted him. Or..." The other option is at least as obvious as it is unpleasant. He sighs, stepping to the side of the bridge and crouching down, squinting against the harsh lights that shine off of the snowy crevasse, glancing to the bottom, trained eyes scanning for anything of note -- until he cocks his head, curious. Standing up again, he points in the direction of the sun, which might be hard to see in at first. "Down there," he says. "A -- cave, or something. Movement."

The Gobbo runs out onto the bridge when Quilani says the trail ends here. On the bridge. Her ears perk up, hopefully, that he might be nearby. But they droop considerably when she realizes what Malik is saying. "I'm sorry.", she says simply, the blade being pulled free. And over the edge she goes with it, her other hand pulling free the dragonspitter from its holster. There are several shots as she plummets. "Hope you're worth it.", she says to the blade.

The dragonspitter's report echoes across the silent, snowy landscape, and multiple cracks below suggest that whatever the dragonspitter hit is more likely to be stone than ice. Worse still, the mountain across the crevasse, where Malik had spotted the movement ... shudders at the sound of gunfire ripping across the canyon.

And shudders again.

And this time, both of the people on the bridge can definitely see movement on the other side. Whatever it is, it now seems to be coming towards the plummeting Gobbo. No, flying. Fast. On white-feathered wings, one of which looks decidedly bent in a way that it should not be.

And ... just as the thing clears the mountainside, a rumble on the far side begins, snow cascading down off a section of rock, right where the movement had been.

Quilani thought this might be the beginning of the end. At least as far as finding the guy, and going home before this trip got more serious. Heck, they could still make it back to a pub and have a drink about it, to which she's not going to have because a drunk Quil sounds like a bad time for everyone. But instead, she watches the little Goblin do her thing, and her eyes widen almost into whole spheres when she realized what just happened. She starts to take a step towards the bridge, but she stops when she looks up to see something...coming forward.

Quickly growing terrified, she starts to draw her quarter staff. "That's...going to be a bad thing. That's going to be a really...really bad thing." Her tail coils harshly around one of her legs, while her whole body trembles worse than the cold was doing just a few moments earlier.

Malik watches as the Gobbo jumps over the side, shooting the pistol at the ground. His eyes widen, and he's on his feet instantly, watching the falling gobbo and the broken-winged man. "Shit, SHIT!" he mutters, panic in his voice as he unslings the bow, already hearing that rumble of the mountain that suggests that the worst is yet to come. Nocking an arrow, he takes quick aim at -- apparently, the ground, shooting off the arrow as it trails some kind of magic behind it, blossoming into a spell that partially envelops the flying man. "Go, go, MOVE."

The Gobbo is still falling. The snow has started to move in places, and the ice (is it ice?) has stubbornly refused to give. "Yer awfully silent about this whole thing.", she comments to the sword. But the movement has caught her eye. She sees. Keeping a good grip on both her weapon and Seldan's, she cackles madly. "CATCH MEEEEE!", she calls out.

Quilani takes a few steps forward to be near Malik as he took some sort of crazy shot. She watches in earnest to see what would happen next, knowing full well that there was very little she could do in this situation. All up to gravity, an arrow and some flying winged person now.

Whatever the spell Malik threw did, it seems to have -- accelerated whatever it was coming towards the gobber. By, like, a lot. As it comes directly closer to the gobbo below, it is more clearly visible to those on the bridge as a magic-fueled blur in blue, silver, and white, that grabs the gobber around the waist and flies straight upwards towards the bridge. Only when it approaches the bridge can those see clearly that it is indeed Seldan, white as the snow he flies over.

He deposits the gobber on the bridge just as the section of snow on the other side of the mountain crashes down with a thunderous roar into the crevasse, burying anything that was there in a dozen or more feet of snow. Once Acedia is safely on the bridge, he rolls onto the snowy stone as well, the white-feathered wings melting into nothingness as he simply lays there, shaking, left arm tucked tightly against him.

Malik only starts to really breathe again once both of them are up on the bridge again, some of the tension melting away from him. He moves over to the gobbo, shaking his head and looking for all the world like he's not entirely sure what even just happened there. But Seldan is on the bridge as well, holding an injured arm -- which was a moment ago an injured wing, that he just flew like the devil on. "Holy gods, what did you do?" he asks, looking at the arm -- and giving Quilani a needful look.

Acedia drops first the blade, by Seldan's side, and then her dragonspitter, at her feet. Between sharp intakes of breath, the Gobbo begins to speak in Goblin-talk, her hands glowing brightly once more. These she presses against his left arm. She does this several times, until she simply lays down at his side. Spent.

Quilani is suddenly thankful she wasn't cursed with hair. Because seeing this would have made her rip it out. Instead, she settles for tugging on her earfins, painfully stretching them as she looks at Seldan and Acedia. Her tail uncoils as she's very clearly needed, stepping towards the downed duo and frowning significantly. "You are both lucky I don't have muscle, because I really, really, -REALLY- want to toss you both back over that bridge for scaring my like that." She leans down a little bit, using her staff to poke at Acedia. Not hard, but enough to get her attention.

"Before I completely calm down, do youhave anything else entirely crazy you'd like to do? My heart can only take so much." On that note, she does look over towards the downed, recently healed Seldan, but waits to do anything until witnessing what exactly those quickly cast spells did for his health.

It takes a minute before Seldan manages to speak, pushing himself up to a sitting position. He's still shaking visibly, but has relaxed, indicating that the healing does help. From the the way he is holding himself, though, the muscles in his left shoulder and the left side of his back will probably sue for separate maintenance come the morning, and using it any more will only make matters worse. "I ... would ask your forgiveness." Even in his graceless position, he still attempts to be formal. "I had attempted to cross in the snowstorm, and was blown into the cliff face." If that is what happened, he took at least a fifty-foot drop on top of the collision. "I had thought to repair the damage, but was ... not done when the avalanche struck."

Ignoring the sword, he rounds on Acedia. "That much noise in a snowy mountain clime will trigger such a snow-drop easily. The both of us could have been killed." He pushes an unruly lock of hair from his face, and resumes shaking as his eyes fall on the sword. "That ... I..."

Malik takes off his cloak,throwing it over the sword for now. Out of sight is, hopefully, out of mind while they focus on other things. Looking to the gobbo and the sith, he gives them both a thankful nod. "It seems that I owe you both," he says. "For helping me find him." And favors from wizards are exactly the kind of thing that someone might want to cash in on, one day. Acedia just gets a shake of his head. "Even if your methods are ... unorthodox." Not that he's come to expect any less from the residents of Alexandria in his years there, from the tone he uses.

Turning his attention back to Seldan, he reaches out, running fingertips along the man's cheek. "I would ask if you were alright," he sighs, "but I think we can both clearly see the answer to that. So. Instead -- would you like to go home now?" A glance at the other two, the question clearly not meant for just him.

Acedia is a little busy being upset to hear much of what the others are saying. She huffs at the poke from QUilani, and slowly sits up, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Was it any crazier than running out into a snowstorm on one's own?", she wonders of the Sith. "Or for us to follow in such a thing?" The Gobbo peers at Seldan. "I was hoping that it was water down there, and that my shots would break the ice just enough..." At this point, she starts to stand, her legs wobbly. To Malik, she nods slowly. "You're welcome. It is for you that I did that. And yes. Home would be nice."

Quilani nearly cuts the goblin off, but politely waits until she's finished before railing at her. Almost in a voice one couldn't think belonged to her. "YES! YES-YES-YES-YES! YES IT WAS. YOU JUMPED OFF OF A CLIFF, WHICH ALONE MIGHT HAVE KILLED YOU BUT NO, LET'S DOUBLE-DOWN ON IT."

She stands up and paces a few steps away, her voice still raging. "LET'S FIRE A GUN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WILDERNESS, POTENTIALLY ATTRACTING PANTHEON KNOWS WHAT ON OUR HEADS, TO SAY NOTHING OF AN AVALANCHE, OR HEY, SHOT IN THE ACTUAL DARK, MAYBE YOUR GUN MALFUNCTIONS AND BLOWS UP IN YOUR HAND. I DON'T KNOW, I AM NO PROPHET."

She turns back towards Acedia and leans in fairly close. "But I know common sense. It worked out this time. Sure. Barely. But I hope you learned something from all this. And that's nothing compared to you." She leans in to look a little more directly at Seldan. "You had everyone actually worried sick and we trudged up a very scary and potentially AVALANCHE READY mountain to come and get you." She starts to hyperventilate, as more nervousness washed over her features, but she's keeping it together for the time being. "Nearly giving me an actual heart attack and freaking me out like that. Ah...ahh!" At that point, rather unexpectedly, she simply falls backwards into the snow with the grace of a deflated fish, her hands out to her sides.

"Fpah. Is this what worrying about friends feels like? I hate it. I hate it I hate it I hate it." She cranes her head up towards Malik. "If you can do the finger thing that makes us not be in this terrible, cold, unfun and generally worst place I've ever been to that's not been a swamp please do. I am done. Physical excercise for the week done, people saved, adventure had, I want to go home now."

Seldan half-smiles up at Malik. "I think that best, yes." Before he can say more, though, Quilani's in his face, yelling at him, even as the snow continues to fall around them and light gray skies above them fade into a darker gray, the temperature dropping around them. He only lowers his eyes, taking the tongue-lashing without complaint. "What I did was very foolish, and I owe all of you for seeking me out. I would ask your forgiveness."

He looks up, and directly at Quilani, his bearing taking on a formally polite and closed stance as he stands. "You most of all, Temperance, who had no reason to come up here after me, did so anyway. For that, you have my undying thanks. You are more than you deem yourself to be, for strength of arm or spell avails nothing, do their possessors not try. You have accomplished more, simply by being willing to try. Even if it is not always pleasant."

That said, he stands with an effort, and retrieves the blade from beneath Malik's cloak. As he picks it up, both the older female and the middle-aged, gruff male voice chime in. "Well, it's about time." "Now, are you quite done being stupid?" The paladin ignores them both, straightening up. "Let us go."

Malik doesn't waste any time, especially as emotions seem to be still running high. He moves closer to all three of them, one arm around Seldan's waist, the other moving out to pull Quilani and Acedia in closer. Whispering a word and making that convulsive little gesture with his fingers, the world shifts and seems to turn in on itself, and the four are transported back to where they began -- the bench in the Temple Plaza. STill overturned, and with a sword gash in it.