Forearmed is Forwarned Part 3

Schara's sister excuses herself to continue back the way they came, while her brother enters the room, taking a spot near one of the windows, looking deep in thought.

"That has to be you right Schara? That looks like the armor you wrote so much in your letters about." The mother speaks up, smiling gently. "Lira, and this is my husband Corym. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She greets. The older elf nods, closing their book and setting it aside. "Well, please, make yourself at home. You're always welcome back any time you know, Schara." They offer, chuckling loudly. " This is Warrick, I take it? And Aelwyn, was it?"

Warrick bows his head. "Lira, Corym. Pleasure. Correct, Warrick." He nods once, smiling some. "Thank you for your hospitality. Schara has come quite a long way with that armor, seen it in action a decent bit."

He opts to take a seat, working on removing his greaves. The lone human glances to his brown metal clad friend. He rolls a shoulder at her, the same that her mother was missing.

Aelwyn flashes his teeth in that toothy, macabre makari way, then bows his head towards the mother. "Aelwyn, a Dragoon." He introduces himself. "It is quite the opportunity, this one wishes it were in more due circumstances."

Then his orange eyes start to look around, before he settles on the nearest tail friendly surface to sit upon, leaning his glaive against his shoulder.

GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20: (11): 11

Aelwyn isn't able to find any immediately available lizard friendly chairs, but at least there is a well worn, sturdy looking foot rest he can use for the time being.

The older elf, introductions made, leaves their seat quickly, and a few strides clear the room, where they pull the artificer into a hug. "It has been some time, it's good to have you home, even for some time, Schara. You must have been through so much based on everything you wrote about." Schara's father intones.

Schara, stuck in yet another hug, tilts their head in Warrick's direction. "Is your shoulder sore Warrick? You can rest if you need to, or, are you trying to use body language to communicate something?" She rambles, clearly already overwhelmed by everything. "Oh, are you referring to, yes, unless I am mistaken, I did not want to bring it up right away mother, but what happened to your arm? What injured you so badly? Is there anything I can do for you?"

Warrick gives a bit of a soft look towards the father, knowing exactly how he feels as he finishes pulling off more pieces of his armor, quietly placing each into his pack.

He glances to Schara. Sighs. "... I was trying to be more subtle about it, but... yeah," he shrugs.

Aelwyn leans slightly towards Warrick, quietly rumbling. "There is no subtle with Brass, one should know already." He then takes a seat on the footstool. He was never particular in any noble or fancy house, seat is a seat.

Whilst the discussion turns towards the arm, Aelwyn takes a chance to look around the room and consider the others in the room. Everyone was so... nice. "This one admits that has been our question as well. Though it is good to see one in relatively good health."

"Yes. It's not good, but we always try to make the best of things, don't we? I'm just glad that she's safe." Corym sighs, some of the happiness giving way to the very evident weariness underneath. They break the hug to pat Schara on their helmeted head, keeping one hand wrapped around the artificer, holding them close.

Lira was, surprisingly or unsurprisingly, not overly bothered by the blunt admission. She pulled herself up on her seat, before speaking. "It is alright, Schara, I'm tired, but doing as well as I can. It won't be long until I'm back on my feet fully, but I'm still well enough to take care of everyone here even now." She answers.

The brother however, who had not sat down and was still at one of the doors shakes their head however. "Something's not quite right, though. They said they didn't get a letter, and it's not like my sister to not explain herself properly." he adds. "You doing okay, Schara?"

Warrick glances towards Aelwyn. "Yeeeeah... I know, but... sometimes she can get it," he mutters back before pulling his pauldrons off.

His attention falls on Lira, then to Schara's brother. Sensing the building confusion, the man just sighs. "Schara recieved a package, the arm. It's being preserved at the Temple of Vardama presently. Hence our... rapid arrival."

Aelwyn slowly bows his head. "As Crossbow said, that is why perhaps Brass is acting the way they are." He glances towards the armored woman, before turning his attention back onto Lira. "As this one mentioned, it is good that one is in relatively good health - but what is this letter one sent? And who sent the package?"

It was Schara's mother's turn to look confused. "The letter we sent was letting Schara know what happened. How I was injured on a hunting trip out in the woods by wolves." She explains. "I was able to fend them off, but my arm was lost in the process."

Schara's father looked deep in thought, but it was the Tylas who spoke up again. "Could be someone grabbed it afterwards. Maybe even summoned the wolves themselves. Wouldn't put it past that a useless pile of refuse like that priest." They mutter, causing Schara to freeze up on the spot.

Warrick was in the process of putting his crossbow down, but the mention of the priest makes him pause. Fingers tensing on the stock. "Considering the state it showed up in, it wouldn't surprise me. Unless there's some other party involved," he mentions, looking to Schara. He sighs.

Shifting his weight in the chair. "Did that trash refuse to patch Lira too?" he asks.

Aelwyn leans back on his chair and leans the glaive further against his shoulder. He clicks his teeth. "... wolves and somebody taking the arm might be an explanation," He offers, "But then who took the letter?"

The draconian glances towards Schara, then towards Warrick. "At least this one assumes letters do not typically disappear."

"Refuse to heal me? No, I would never have even thought to seek out healing from the local cleric." Lira answers firmly, a heavy air falling over the otherwise welcoming living space. Schara's father took a step back, and closed their eyes for a brief moment, exhaling loudly. "No, we haven't had any business with them in decades whatsoever. But, if he had anything whatsoever to do with what happened, then he will answer for it." They state firmly, his son nodding along with him, while Schara remained frozen on the spot.

Warrick sets his crossbow down, grunting as he gets up. Walking over to Schara, he places a hand on her upper back, lightly jostling them. "Aelwyn and I can look into it," he firmly says. "Whoever it was clearly is sending a message."

He looks to the two parents. "I'm used to solving these kinds of things. We can have dinner, then get to the bottom of this."

Aelwyn tilts his head again. Even he could sense the tension in the room. Getting back onto his feet after Warrick rises, he follows on after the other man. "Yes, perhaps we should discuss this after the dinner." He flashes his teeth. "There surely is plenty Brass needs to catch up on."

After saying such, the ruddy sith-makar turns towards Warrick and quietly rumbles to the other man under his breath, "Then Crossbow can explain to this one what is going on." It was only a moment. Then the makari was all teeth and grins.

"Oh! Yes, dinner sounds good. None of this sounds good, it's good to see you all but this is all very confusing and concerning and I really hope that Thraven is not involved whatsoever but it can not be ruled out and remains a not insignificant possibility." Schara rambles suddenly, jostled by Warrick. "Thank you Warrick, it was a lot to take in."

Corym's grave expression faded, and he did his best to smile as he pat his daughter on the head again. "Yes, you all must have been on the road for some time. We can talk more, but for now, it has been too long. I'm looking forward to meeting you both properly and discussing more pleasant matters over a hot meal. I'm looking forward to learning about what you've learned in Alexandria after all, Schara." He agrees, a pleasant tone returning to their voice. Tylas, would you be willing to help with finishing the preparations? I'll see your mother to the dining room."

Warrick nods once towards Aelwyn. "I can explain everything afterwards," he mutters to the Makari as he finishes pulling off his scalemail, showing the quilted vest underneath.

Stepping back to Schara, he gives a slow nod. "Anytime. But lets eat with your family, yes?" He lightly smiles towards Corym. "That'd be most appreciated, sir, we've been in that wagon for a while."

Aelwyn bows his head towards their gracious hosts. "A dinner would be served well." He then looks towards Schara. He pats the artificer on the armour. "One must have calm and steady breathing when once stands on the edge." He offers to the artificer, before he leans back against his glaive - as one does.

Tylas gives Schara a sympathetic look before he leaves the room, and Corym takes a moment to help his wife to her feet, before they are off, Lira stopping to give Schara a hug as well before she is on her way.

"Yes, proper breathing control is a valid and useful technique for managing anxiety and other negative feelings." Schara nods to Aelwyn. "I'll join you both in a moment, alright? I'll get changed out of this armor so I can eat normally. It's been a while since I've seen my room, too." She adds before turning to one of the other exits to the sitting room.

"See you soon," Warrick says to Schara, waving to the others as they vacate, leaving just the human and the dragoon.

He waits a beat. Turns, then sighs, voice shifting to a more growling language, "The priest in question is a corrupt cleric of Daeus. Wouldn't heal Schara when she lost her arms, unless they paid up," he explains, scowling. "That priest needs a damn inquisition." <Draconic>

He clears his threat. "But, we can find that trash later. It's probably connected to all of this. Or... something else. Maybe related, but I'd rather have Schara here for it."

Aelwyn bows his head towards Schara. "We shall wait to see Brass dressed for dinner." He flashes his teeth, before he turns towards Warrick, listening.

There's obvious look of confusion on the makari's face. <"... is that not the custom?"> He asks then, carefully. <"Corrupt is a strong word."> There's a click and then he tilts his head. <"Though this one agrees, abysmal to ask for the coin first. And of Brass, even.">

The Dragoon then nods. "This one cannot quite understand why the play to lure Brass from the city, but this one supposes reasons shall present themselves soon."