"Lessons Exchanged, Lessons Learned"

Log Date:
	2/10/02

Log Cast:
	Quietharm, Vardeus, Morningtide, Shay'la, Maerro, Fin

Log Intro:
	As the days begin to pass for Vardeus and Maerro, the wounded Captain 
begins to get some of his strength back -- though he is still profoundly 
troubled about the fate of his crew and beginning to grow increasingly restless 
with his own inability to set off in search of Kephissa and Valnek and any 
others of his crew that might still be alive. He has begun to realize that as 
long as his body must mend, he and young Maerro must rely upon the strange 
Little People who have taken them in for help, and so, intent on trying to make 
certain he can talk with them properly and best convince them to help his folk, 
Vardeus has turned his energies to trying to learn to talk with the she-elf 
Quietharm. She has eagerly absorbed what lessons in Vraeyan he's been able to 
cobble together, despite the teaching of language not being one of his finer 
skills, and has begun to give him a few scattered words of her own tongue in 
return.
	But Vardeus has not escaped his worries and tensions, and some of them 
are only waiting for him to be asleep before they ambush him without 
hesitation, uncaring of whether more of the Little People may be about to 
finally overcome their initial wariness and check out the human in their 
midst....

----------
Vardeus(#108PXc2)
        Given his round ears and his five-fingered hands, this is clearly a 
  human man... but a distinctly strange-looking one. He stands taller than 
  many human warriors, with broad shoulders and well-muscled arms in 
  proportion to his sturdy frame, and although his face and form are heavily 
  bronzed by the Daystar, he is paler in shade than many of his kind. His eyes 
  are clear and blue as the Vastdeep Water beneath a summer sky. His hair, a 
  warm golden brown bleached yellow on top by the sun, is most often tied into 
  a small tail at the base of his neck; his beard goes with his hair, a short 
  scattering of whiskers that's just enough to soften the strong line of his 
  jaw. He speaks with a rich husky baritone, and in a rolling accent that 
  marks him as not of any known nearby land.
        He is clad in the remnants of what might once have been odd garb 
  indeed, not generally matching what a human what usually be expected to 
  wear. The lower half of a tunic of undyed woven cloth, accented with a 
  stained-in block pattern along its bottom hem, covers him from hips to 
  thighs, and is held in place by a thick belt of well-oiled, well-worn, 
  metal-studded leather. On his feet he sports leathern sandals, with broad 
  straps that wine up his calves just short of his knees; at his belt, on 
  either side, ride the matched sheaths of a pair of iron daggers. At his 
  right ear gleams a small golden earring, and around his upper left arm, an 
  armband of beaten gold. Strips of cloth that mightim once have been the upper 
  half of his garment are wrapped about his chest and ribcage, partly but not 
  entirely hiding still-healing bruises.

Morningtide
Slightly past a 120 turns, Morningtide stands 4'6". His body is well-toned yet 
  lithe, the bronze colored skin tells of hours spent in the sun. His almond 
  shaped eyes are a storm grey that shows wisdom and a hint of sorrow. They 
  are accented by the silver streaks that cascade down his back among the rest 
  of the dark brown hair. His face shows sharp features. as if carved from 
  stone. His ears differ slightly from other species of elf, slightly shorter 
  and scalloped along the edges. Three rings pierce his left ear, between 
  scalloped points, seemingly made from coral.
Morningtide is in a pair of billowy pants, the light fabric is of a tan shade 
  and sways against his skin when the wind catches it. At his waist, three 
  pouches hang from a belt, while at the small of his back, a metal dagger 
  alongside a coral knife are tucked within their respective sheathes. An odd 
  sight to anyone who has known him from any point in his life, the cobalt 
  blue seashell that has always hung from his neck is now missing.

Quietharm
        Standing at a lithe 4'7", she has livid, almond shaped eyes of a dark 
  amber. She is fine featured, with elegant eyebrows high above the eyes, and 
  high cheekbones which give off an aire of dignity. A light, translucent 
  webbing goes a little past the first knuckle between her fingers. Her ears 
  are smaller than that of a normal elf, and naturally scalloped. Shiny, 
  mahogany hair is to mid-back and unbound, with a few errant strands of hair 
  falling about her face. Deeply bronzed skin of an almost golden hue marks 
  her ancestory.
        Abandoning the common dressing style of her sea home, Quietharm has 
  now opted for a rough, tawny outfit made of animal hide. The same pelt is 
  used for a halter style top down to the boots. Quite eclectic, it is form 
  fitting and free of any loose garmet that would hinder movement. A string of 
  blue shells entwines about her neck.
Carrying:
Knife

There is the characteristic sound of the flap to the tent being pulled aside, 
  baring the form of the she-elf Quietharm. She makes her way over towards the 
  side of the large human male, of whom she felt no trepidation of being 
  around. Kneeling near Vardeus' shoulders, she quietly queries, "((Vardeus? 
  Vardeus awake?))" A tilt of her head, that unmistakable expression of pure 
  curiousity, the huntress waits patiently for any sign of retaliation.

Little Kyethaerm appears to be developing quite the habit of finding the Raft 
  Holt's odd visitor asleep -- but this time, his slumber is different. 
  Vardeus lies huddled on his side in furs that have twisted themselves about 
  his body as he's slept. One arm's thrown out crookedly before him, the 
  five-fingered hand outstretched as if in supplication, and for all that his 
  eyes are tightly shut, his features are twisted as if in profound anguish. 
  The only reply that the she-elf gets is a husky groan... and then, a babble 
  of griefstricken words. "((Tiana! Faergive me... I'm sae sorry... faergive 
  me, Tiana-love.... sae sorry...))"

Morningtide has arrived.

Quietharm balks at first, unsure of what to make of the strange garble. Easing 
  over to the large extended hand of the fretting man, she takes it up in her 
  smaller one. Brow furrowed with worry, she raises her voice to a higher, 
  frantic pitch. "((Vardeus! Wake! Bad Sleep!))" She didn't recognize this new 
  word he kept repeating, and by the context of his sentence structure (which 
  of course changed under times of duress, as she had previously concluded), 
  it was a name. Clasping his hand tightly, she tries to squeeze it hard 
  enough to wake him. "((Who Tiana? Vardeus!))"

Morningtide eases the flap open and steps inside, concern clearly on his face. 
  And lets not forget that spear in his right hand. Silvery eyes narrow at the 
  sight of the human on the bed, but he stays outwardly silent. He had spoken 
  with Stormgrace and knew that evidently they had been given permission to 
  heal on the holt's sands. He didnt have to like it. He clenches his jaw as 
  he hears the strange garbled tongue...from his lifemate no less, who is 
  holding the blunt ears's hand? ** Beloved? <concern> **

As his hand is taken up, it shudders convulsively in Quietharm's grasp; that 
  same shudder seems to course down through the rest of him as well at the 
  elf's anxious call, and his eyes fly open. Disoriented by being so abruptly 
  hurled out of slumber, Vardeus blinks rapidly, his gaze wild and unfocused. 
  "((Wh--))" His voice comes out of him in the barest of croaks; he swallows 
  hard, then. "((Wh-what is it?))"

Quietharm snaps her attention to the opening in the tent, from where she takes 
  in the familliar presence and send of her lifemate. For a split second, 
  there is a whole outline of worry etched into her face, before her focus is 
  drawn towards the human once more, the same expression seen as a profile. ** 
  He's hurt and delirious. He said someone's name, quite a few times in fact. 
  I don't believe Splash had been to see him yet, and something is wrong with 
  his side.. ** Now she's rambling, and that wouldn't get anyone anywhere. 
  Soothingly, Quietharm interceeds on his stuttered talk. "((Vardeus, bad 
  sleep. Vardeus wake now, safe.))" A pause, and then a little sigh, "((Who 
  Tiana?))"

Morningtide frowns and steps inside fully, his eyes on the human. How many of 
  these humans were here? He had already met one. He studies the makeshift 
  bandages. ** I'd say he hasn't seen the healer. ** The anger is well hidden, 
  but he knows Quietharm senses it regardless of how hard he tries. He comes 
  to stand by her side and watches the exchange. ** You know their language? 
  <suprise> **

With difficulty, Vardeus rolls over into his back as he realizes that one of 
  the Little People he does not recognize has come to the tent along with 
  Kyethaerm. Most of his attention remains on the she-elf, though, as he rubs 
  his other hand across his eyes and struggles to shake off the last of his 
  sleep. "((Sleep. Aye. I was... sleeping...))" Then he realizes what else has 
  been asked of him, and he goes abruptly still. "((Tiana,))" he rasps. 
  "((What about Tiana?))"

Quietharm's face is still contorted with worry, but a scant amount of relief 
  shows as Vardeus begins to speak coherently...as clear as she can make of 
  it, that is. She pats his arm comfortingly. "((No worry now.))" Repeating 
  herself, the huntress works at getting the information out of him that he 
  seemed too reluctant or dazed to share. "((Who Tiana?))". Shaking her head 
  wistfully, Quietharm levels her eyes up to Morningtide. ** Yes, a bit. I 
  learned from his comrades that washed up on the beach a few nights ago, as 
  well as from him. They really are confused. <<sadness>> They have no idea 
  where they are, and this Vardeus doesn't know much about the state of his 
  other fellows. **

Morningtide would love to just send them on the first raft back to the 
  mainland and let them lick their own wounds. His eyes flick back to this 
  Vardeus and he studies him. ** Well, as soon as Splash comes, maybe she can 
  be convinced to heal him enough to be sent to the mainland. How many others 
  are there? And are they being watched? ** And here Raven had just been 
  talking of more monsters. Not a good week.

Awkwardly, Vardeus hoists himself up onto his elbows, shifting a bleary gaze 
  from Quietharm to Morningtide and then back again. His brow furrows in 
  disquiet; how did the little maiden know to say 'Tiana'? And how to answer 
  her question? "((Vardeus... big Captain, of Big Raft. Tiana, little 
  Captain.))" That's as close as he can think to come to describing his first 
  mate in terms that Quietharm can still understand. And then, with distinct 
  worry shadowing his eyes, he adds swiftly, "((Kyethaerm _see_ Tiana?))"

Quietharm frowns at her lifemate suspiciously. She knew his opinion of humans 
  in general, and to be completely honest, she had shared it. Since this 
  different breed of human had washed ashore, however, her belief system was 
  shaken rather badly, reversing in a quick one-eighty. The problem would 
  escalate even further if she informed him about her newest plans in dealing 
  with the stranded visitors. ** There are only four that I know of, including 
  Vardeus here. Five now, I suppose. ** She listens to Vardeus' rapidly 
  blurted exclamation, before adding, ** Tiana. Tiana must be his second in 
  command. ** Switching to the Vraeyan speech, Quietharm picks up where she 
  left off. "((Tiana little Captain. Yes. Vardeus and Tiana captains of 
  others. Quietharm no see Tiana.))" The latter was barely a murmur, harboring 
  regret at it's fullest.

Morningtide nods at something unknown before Quiet turns back around. He 
  remains a statue of suspicion, even though no outward emotions appear on his 
  face. He keeps the butt of his spear on the ground, using the weapon more 
  like a walking stick, but if you were to look closely, his hand grips the 
  shaft until the fingers have turned white. He now knew of two here at least. 
  One not much more than a boy.

Morningtide's grim stance and the weapon he holds do not escape Vardeus' 
  notice, either, now that the big human is finally awake. "((Who?))" he asks 
  of Quietharm, while nodding his head at that stoic figure just behind her. 
  His mouth tightens up at what little scraps of information he manages to 
  glean -- but if Quietharm _hasn't_ seen Tiana, how did she know her name? 
  "((Ach... Maerro say 'Tiana?'))"

Quietharm glowers inwardly as she flicks brown eyes to Morningtide, not 
  exactly taking well to his sudden silence. She should be out with it now 
  before the ball actually started rolling. ** When Vardeus and Maerro are 
  well enough to leave...well, I will go with. I will help them find the rest 
  of their people, and since they don't know the territory, I will act as a 
  sort of guide. ** Before she had a chance to take up a reaction from her 
  lifemate, she is engrossed in Vardeus' question. She points to Morningtide. 
  "Morningtide." The word is in elfin, and spoken slowly. "Morningtide 
  ((worry))". That wasn't really true, he was more in the suspicious 
  department, but it was the only word she knew to surmise his feelings 
  towards the humans. "((No. Vardeus say Tiana in sleep..))".

Shay'la has arrived.

Shay'la
        Tall and slender Shay'la has a slender, wiry frame, while still 
  appearing totally feminine. She looks incredibly fragile but looks have been 
  known to be deceiving. Her complexion is pale with only a slight blush of 
  color to her cheeks. A pair of dark, piercing eyes provide the most color 
  for her face. At first glance they appear black but on closer examination 
  they are really a very dark blue. Her features are fine and sculpted, almost 
  chiseled. The combination of her pale complexion and chiseled features give 
  her the appearance of a fine, porcelain sculpture. Her carefully schooled 
  face rarely shows outward signs of emotions, and only enhances the view. Her 
  slender face is surrounded by a sheet of shimmering silver hair. It is all 
  one length and normally falls in a straight sheet to the middle of her back. 
  It is currently bound up in an elaborate french twist, so as to not 
  interfere. It is held in place by a silver comb, with intricate filligree 
  designs on it. Two thin braids on either side of her face are kept free, 
  with tiny pearls and silver beeds woven within the silvery locks.
        A supple body suit, made of the woven sea elf fibers clings to the 
  curves of her form. It is made of a deep, midnight blue fabric, so dark it 
  almost appears black at a glance. The bodysuit clings to every curve, 
  leaving very little to the imagination here. It covers her from almost head 
  to foot, with even a high collar that goes around her neck. The suit laces 
  up the front, with fine, tight lacings, ending with a silver clasp with a 
  dark blue stone in the center of it. On her hands are a pair of dark blue 
  gloves, with silver trim that goes around the wrists. A silver belt wraps 
  around her waist. Covering her head is a voluminous hood, that is attached 
  to the shoulders of the bodysuit. The hood is trimmed in silver as well. 
  Only the two braids that frame her face peek out from under the hood. Boots, 
  of a matching dark blue are worn on her feet going up to end at mid-calf, a 
  silver trim wraps around the tops of the boots. Sticking out from the top of 
  one of the boots is an ornate metal dagger. Carved into the bone hilt of the 
  dagger are two symbols, Underworlder in design. A ruby caps the top of the 
  dagger. The metal blade slides into a leather sheath inlaid with silver. A 
  second dagger, far less ornate then the first, sticks out of the top of the 
  opposite boot. Hanging from her belt is a sheathed sword of crysmetal. The 
  hilt is made of bone, inlaid with silver. A symbol, different from that of 
  the other two, is inlaid in silver beneath a sapphire which caps the hilt.
Carrying:
silver bracelet

Maerro has arrived.

Morningtide blinks, totaly taken back by what was said in elfin and his eyes 
  look to Quietharm. He doesnt offer words though, speaking with the mind as 
  usual for him. A sharp shake of the head and a step closer shows his dislike 
  for what was said. Well, that and his jaw clenching reflexivly.

Wait a minute. He _said_ 'Tiana' in his sleep? This disconcerts Vardeus 
  immensely, and a flush of suspicious color tinges his cheeks before he 
  forcibly directs his attention to the suspicious-seeming male with the 
  spear. So the males of the Little People are finally seeming willing to talk 
  to him, along with the females? This one, evidently, is less than pleased by 
  the prospect. "((Vardeus no hurt Maernantayde,))" he says then to Quietharm, 
  steadily.

Quietharm frowns at Morningtide, having watched him closely. As the seconds 
  tick by and there is no reply, the she-elf faces him, raising an eyebrow as 
  she shakes her head at the same time. This must look quite odd to any human 
  onlooker, reactions without speech. Hmm. Forcing a tight-lipped smile, 
  Quietharm glances back to Vardeus. "Quietharm ((know. Vardeus no hurt)) 
  Morningtide ((and others.)) Quietharm ((trust Vardeus))." Flipping in and 
  out of the elfin tongue for the spoken names, Quietharm moves to sit 
  cross-legged before gazing at Morningtide once more.

Shay'la heard the rumours that there were humans here and armed herself 
  accordingly... even if she didn't believe them at first. Redtide would never 
  allow them... oh but then Stormgrace came to speak to her... You can't kill 
  them Shay.. Why not? They are humans... less then trolls... and we won't get 
  into Shay's opinion on trolls. At least trolls can craft some very fine 
  weapons and are good to put on the front lines when doing battle... but 
  humans. Well she agreed... but she is at least going to asses things for 
  herself. If Vardeus can win over her trust then he is a miracle worker. She 
  pauses a long time outside of the tent and then pushes the flap open and 
  steps inside. Oh well... definitely can't kill him today, there are others 
  present. She keeps her cowl up for now... it puts more of an advantage on 
  her side. Look Vardeus... they come in all shapes and sizes. For the moment 
  she says nothing... though she does greet the elves of the group, **Tides**

Morningtide's eyes are locked solely on his mate, and locksending almost seems 
  to reverbrate along the walls of the tent. He kneels next to her, one knee 
  to the ground as he watches her eyes. A glance to the human followed by a 
  nod, his attentio is quickly to the enteranceway. Great. Someone who is even 
  more likely to take offense to the humans than he is. ** Tides <caution> **

Maerro walks in a few moments after Shay'la. The rest, food, and water of the 
  past week have served him well. The bruises left from his head over heels 
  journey across the deck of the Windrider have all but faded and he's looking 
  more his normal curious self. He carries a waterskin in one hand, and pretty 
  shell in the other, only slightly chipped. The amount of the people in the 
  small tent stop him in the 'doorway', both out of surprise and limited space.

Quietharm freezes, even as if she can't believe what her lifemate sent to her. 
  The next moment she is smiling in joy as she nearly knocks him over in an 
  excited embrace. ** Thank you. ** All said that needed to be said, she eases 
  back to glimpse Shay'la entering the tent, with the young Maerro following 
  at her heels. She pauses again, suddenly filled with agitation that things 
  just went from good to worse.

Shay'la isn't pointing a weapon at anyone yet so now is the time for calm. 
  Dark eyes fix on Vardeus and give him a thorough once over. Well he's 
  bigger... by less than a foot... and he's stronger... and he doesn't have 
  problems with the sun... but she could still take him if she had to. As 
  Maerro enters she turns and looks at the boy, relaxing a slight bit. Had it 
  been another full grown male and Shay might have been more antsy.... not 
  that she trusts the child either... but he's less of a threat. Of course she 
  has to set minds at ease... well at least elven minds, so she does send out, 
  **I promised I would not harm them... I keep to my word.** Well unless they 
  try and harm her or anyone else in the tribe... then she gets to have fun.

Morningtide oofs, caught off guard. His free hand reflexivly returning the 
  embrace as he struggles to maintain the balance he once had. A small smile 
  at Quietharm's joy escapes him until he remembers himself and his face dips 
  back into an impassive mask. He releases Quiet and stands back up to address 
  Shay, eyes narrowing as he sees another human enter. He was of the same vow 
  as the underworlder. He nods at the send and then looks the boy over too. He 
  pauses his inspection at the dagger. Good to know what others had available.

"((Maerro, lad!))" The relief in Vardeus' eyes is apparent as he catches sight 
  of the youngster, though a good bit of his attention still remains upon the 
  two newcomers, Maer-nan-tayde and... well, whoever this individual in the 
  cloak is, Vardeus returns her scrutiny levelly as he slowly, carefully sits 
  up at last. Indeed, it's starting to look as if the Little People have 
  abandoned their shyness at last... even if this new one doesn't seem 
  exactly... little. Aware now of the fact that he is wounded in front of 
  strangers, aware, too, of the subtle glances the strangers are giving each 
  other -- and again, without speaking! -- he straightens up as best he can 
  and beckons to his cabin boy. "((Lad, it's glad I am to see you and no 
  mistake. I've a job for you, if the Little People'll aid us in it.))" To the 
  others, he adds steadily, "((Kyethaerm? Say to others, Vardeus no hurt 
  Little Others. Maerro no hurt Little Others. Say, Vardeus say 'hello'.))"

Quietharm crawls back as far as possible into on corner of the small tent, the 
  back of her head brushing up against the leather side of the limited 
  enclosure. She was trying to make space, but as her hair rubbed against the 
  tent, she made static instead. A few wisps stood on end, but she paid them 
  no heed. She picks up Vardeus' entreaty, and nods, once. ** He says he nor 
  the child will come to violence with anyone. He says 'Tides', instead. ** To 
  Vardeus, she finishes, "Quietharm ((say it to others. Done.))"

Maerro doesn't mind the once over by either elf. He glances at Vardeus to make 
  sure he is alright, then returns the looks of the elves. He's more curious 
  then looking to size either of them up. He knows he's in a camp full of the 
  creatures and is semi-confident that if they were wanted dead, they would be 
  by now. Besides, the females seem a lot less eager to kill and more friendly 
  then the males he's met so far, and there are two of them here. He looks 
  back to Vardeus as he hears himself being called. He's rather eager to be 
  given a job to do, fetching and refilling waterskins has been getting 
  boring. "((What do you need me to do?)" He looks rather surprised at 
  Quietharm, "((You know our language? How?))" Without waiting for an answer he 
  looks back at Vardeus, "((Has the crew been found?))"

Morningtide hears movement and glances to his lifemate and then Vardeus. He 
  moves back too, to offer more room and not to find himself in the center of 
  the tent, staying close to Quiet. Keeping true to his newly made promise. He 
  nods a bit stiffly. "Tides" He says aloud and arches a brow. "Vardus" He 
  addresses the captain as closely as possible to his language. He wasnt 
  interested in learning their speak just yet, but he could always learn the 
  names. He had after all hear his name enough in the past few moments.

Shay'la reaches up a gloved hand to push back her hood, revealing her face. 
  Since she is indoors to some extent she can do that. She is definitely 
  different from the others, with that pale, nearly translucent complexion. 
  Her dark eyes are also different... speaking of a world of hardship and 
  distrust. She didn't grow up in happy-go-lucky land like the rafters. She 
  wrinkles her nose in distaste at what she is about to do... speech... ugh... 
  what an inferior form of communication... and in front of elves too. Her 
  ancestors are likely going into a rage in the palace at the thought. She 
  inches toward Vardeus and fixes her gaze on him. Stormgrace said she should 
  be nice so nice she will attempt... it isn't her strong suit lately, though, 
  "I am Shay'la." See she introduced herself.

Quietharm blunders around a bit, before coming to explain her knowledge of the 
  boy's language to Maerro. Seems that's all she had been doing as of late 
  with others, too. "Quietharm... ((I.. I know from Vardeus and Kephizza and 
  Volneck.))" She tries out a new way of speaking, opting to switch her name 
  with a word that the humans tended to use when they were speaking of 
  themselves. She didn't know if it was correct, but she was always one to 
  test the waters. "((...I...try hard?))" High Ones, it was getting confusing. 
  She motions to the tallest elf in the tent, the one with the odd white 
  palor. "Shay'la."

'Taydes?' Is that a Little People word for hello? Since the male with the 
  spear has seen fit to address him, the big human proffers forth a one-sided 
  grin -- hey, no hard feelings, mate, he'd be a bit nervous too if someone as 
  strange to his eyes as he must be to yours was dropped into the lands of his 
  people -- and rumbles affably, "Taydes." Then, as Shay'la steps forward and 
  lowers her hood, he sucks in a breath. Tall, this one. She could pass for a 
  Vraeyan with her height. To her, too, he inclines his head and tries out the 
  greeting-word. "Taydes."
But at Maerro's eager burst of questions, his grin gets a little bigger, and 
  he goes on to tell the lad as he gestures at Quietharm, "((That 'un's name 
  is Kyethaerm, aye. She says she's seen Kephissa and Valnek -- I think she 
  must have gotten some Vraeyan out of them, and I've given her a bit more, 
  too. She's picking it up fast; she's a smart 'un.))" Ach, this isn't so bad. 
  He's had to be on his best behavior in front of the Queen of Shalros, after 
  all. Though he remains on the alert, he lets his approval of her aptitude 
  resonate warmly into his voice. "((I'm after needing something to write on, 
  though, and something to write with. I need Kyethaerm to be ready to take a 
  message to the others, while I'm mendin', and that'll tell 'em faster and 
  truer we're alive. Can you find me somethin' apt, Maerro-lad?))"

Maerro looks at Shay'la as she pulls her hood back, curious to see beneath the 
  hood. He looks a little closer as he notices the paleness of her skin. These 
  folk seem so different from one another, rather like the folk of different 
  city-states like back home. His study of Shay'la is cut short when Quietharm 
  speaks and he turns his attention towards her. "((Kephissa and Valnek? Where 
  are they? I can help teach you our language..in exchange for learning a bit 
  of yours? I only know a few words.))" He tries to keep up with the two 
  conversations at once, one with the elf apparently named Kyethaerm, and 
  Vardeus. "((Aye, I can find you something to write with, they're bound to 
  have something here in one of the tents outside.))"

Morningtide falls silent once again with another nod to Vardeus. Aye, thats 
  how you say it. He looks to Maerro as he speaks. Whatever they talked about 
  it had to do with Quiet and he was more than curious as to what they had to 
  say even if he didnt understand a lick of it.

**I wish Orenth were here... He can speak to humans... he could tell them to 
  go away.** Shay'la sendmutters to herself really. No she isn't happy they 
  are here... Humans are a threat. She's never seen any good come from any of 
  them. The kid, though, seems to spark something in Shay... a momentary pang 
  of loss... it still seems only yesterday that Leenar was killed. She pulls 
  off one of her gloves and reaches into a pocket to pull out an egg shaped 
  piece of obsidian. Any who are looking at it would see the rock begin to 
  change shape. With just a few moments of concentration it is now a 
  wavedancer. Shay walks over and hands it to Maerro, then turns back to 
  Vardeus. Don't worry Vardeus... she won't be nice to you for some time yet. 
  Okay so she has a weakness for children... even Underworlders can have 
  weaknesses.

Quietharm follows the movements between the two humans just as quickly and 
  shifting as her mind scrambles to pick up what is being said. Things blur 
  together now and again, and she is blatantly perplexed at certain points. 
  Pushing away from the crevice of the tent she occupied up till that moment, 
  she motions to the two with great drive. "((What 'write'? 'Taydes' is hello, 
  yes.))" Her eyes refixate on Maerro. "((I want..know more. Maerro help? 
  Good. I help, too.))"

Poor Morningtide and Shay'la. Shay's gift erupts Maerro into a whole new set 
  of, to them at least, babbling incoherently. It's obvious he likes the gift 
  and turns to Quietharm to help him speak. "(This!))" He holds the onyx 
  wavedancer towards Quietharm so she can see what it is, "((This was what 
  saved Vardeus and me! How do I tell her thank you? I like her gift. It's 
  amazing how smooth it is.))" Probably fortunately for Shay'la, Maerro's 
  attentions were elsewhere when she shaped the stone.

Inwardly, Vardeus thinks to himself that this tall maiden in the cloak -- 
  stunningly beautiful, it must be admitted -- veritably screams 'highborn' 
  with every line of her face and frame. And with that unreadable expression 
  of hers, as well. There's been nary a highborn maid in Shalros he hasn't 
  seen look at the likes of him with a face like that, that nine times out of 
  ten conceals lofty disdain. It's almost comforting, in fact, to know that 
  the Little People have this in common with his own folk, though it doesn't 
  quite make sense that this tall beauty is not the leader of them, rather 
  than little Staermgraychee--
No maiden he's ever seen, though, has ever carried around a rock that changed 
  shape. Vardeus blinks, not entirely certain of what he'd just seen. His ribs 
  are still paining him -- but his _head_'s fine. He thinks. He couldn't have 
  taken a harder crack on the skull than he'd thought, could he have?
"((Ah... aye, Kyethaerm, say 'thank you' for us? And--))" Mindful of the 
  aforementioned ribs, he starts getting cautiously up, gesturing outside. 
  "((Out? A mite crowded in here. Vardeus out, Vardeus show Kyethaerm 
  'write'.))

Quietharm seems positively ready to spring out of there at all the information 
  coming and going. Sends, elfin and Vraeyan. Her mind was sorting and 
  processing as fast as the meanings, words and ideas arrived, but it was an 
  overload. Weary, she points to Shay'la's rock statue. "Wavedancer." ** 
  Shay'la, he thanks you.. he likes it much. ** Continuing with Maerro, she 
  meekly adds, "((Good)) Wavedancers, ((save Maerro. To thank)) Shay'la, 
  ((say)) Thank You." Nodding agreeably with Vardeus, she takes the incentive 
  to be the first to exit the crowded tent. "((We go out, yes.))" ** He wants 
  to leave to show me this 'write' he speaks of. ** One last send, and she is 
  out the exit in a flash.

Maerro listens carefully to Quietharm, but the elves words seems to melt 
  together and he isn't able to quiet understand the exact pronunciation of 
  the words. The result is an atrociously accented slightly mis-pronounced, 
  "Thaayk oou?" to Shay'la with a much easier understood smile conveying the 
  same thing. Unlike Quietharm, Maerro lingers in the tent, ready to help 
  Vardeus if the captain should look like he needs it.

Morningtide blinks and nods at the send. Might even look like he undersands 
  the humanspeak at this point. He opens the flaps and steps aside, making 
  sure everyone exits and that Vardeus gets out alright. His eyes naturally go 
  to the bandages around his ribs and he wonders just how far he will make it.

Shay'la isn't the leader for many reasons, the last of which being that she 
  wouldn't want to be... She never wanted it when she had it. Now she is 
  simply the self appointed protector of the tribe... or one of them. That is 
  why she is here. She gives a nod to Quietharm at the send and slips her 
  glove back on. She is also careful to replace that hood, obscuring her face 
  once again, before she steps outside the tent. It wouldn't do to practically 
  blind herself around the humans, now would it? Once again the thought races 
  through her mind about the pure irony of someone who can be so damaged by 
  the sun living in a place where it shines so brightly.

Vardeus is not exactly healthy... but he's getting his strength back. And so 
  though his motions are still stiff, he manages to more or less make it to 
  his feet unaided. Flashing a grateful little lopsided grin at Maerro, then a 
  nonchalant glance at Morningtide that conveys a universally masculine air of 
  'it's just a scratch, I'm fine, really', he steps outside into the light.

Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt(#10703RA)
Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other 
  forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp 
  impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the 
  forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does 
  all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades 
  of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water. The 
  tide is in, covering the sand in blue-green. 
        Midday brings the languid warmth of noon. The daystar is high overhead 
  until it beings the slow fall into the west and sunset. The brightness of 
  noon fills the hot summer skies. The sun high overhead dancing attendance.
Contents:
Surfwind's Tent
Firewater's Tent(#1737Je)
Raft Travelling Camp <RTC>(#9508JLe)
Current and Silverthorn's Family tent <ST>(#8541AOUYes)
Raven's Tent(#6222J)
Lean To <LT>
Obvious exits:
South <S>

Shay'la has arrived.

Quietharm arrives from down the beach.
Quietharm has arrived.

Maerro has arrived.

Morningtide has arrived.

Quietharm makes a straightaway for the open air, plunking herself down near 
  the rock circle of the campfire. "((Happy..go out.))" Those few words echoes 
  her relieved sentiment as she watches Vardeus and Maerro expectantly. She 
  lingers on the Captain's bandages for a mere second's passage of time, 
  worried. 'Write' was about to happen, but could the man take it easily, 
  whatever it might be? He didn't seem to be in much shape for any type of 
  activity.

Maerro follows closely on Vardeus' heels. Despite his captain's obvious 
  improvement in the health department, he still wants to keep a close eye on 
  him. ((Are you just going to write in the sand for now?)) He glances about 
  the sandy beach for a stick or anything that looks like it might work for 
  writing in the sand.

Shay'la tugs her hood even closer around her as she steps out.. blasted sun. 
  She takes up a place off to the side for a moment, waiting to see what 
  Vardeus will do first. She has no idea what his intentions are for coming 
  out here. Just in case she is making sure he doesn't get behind her after he 
  exits the tent.

"((Aye, lad, the Little People don't seem to have much in the way o' parchment 
  or ink, but right now, I'm after showin' Kyethaerm what we'll need 'er to 
  do. We're on an island, if I understand her correctly, and Kephissa and 
  Valnek are on the land we spotted comin' in on the _Windrider_--))" And then 
  he catches himself, remembering what _else_ the little maiden had told him. 
  At the moment, the suspicions of Morningtide and Shay'la are the farthest 
  thing from his mind, as he turns a suddenly plaintive expression on the boy 
  and hunkers slowly down on one knee in front of him, putting his hands on 
  his shoulders and looking him square in the face. "((Maerro... Kyethaerm 
  says... again, if I make 'er words out right... the _Windrider_... sank.))" 
  Those last three words come out of him hoarsely, and even though his voice 
  remains reasonably steady, his expression is unmistakable. Full of worry, 
  and more than a little guilt. "((But she's seen Kephissa and Valnek, they 
  must have made it to the shore. So we've got to get word to them. They may 
  be all the crew that's left. Understand?))"

Quietharm listens in as always, a silent ghost in on the conversation. Arms 
  crossed, she reads not only their discord but expressions as well. 
  There...hope, loss, and hope again. My, but they were a determined breed of 
  human. Approaching them conversationally, the elfess directs her eyes to 
  Maerro, and then Vardeus. "((Yes, big raft sunk. Big Raft is 'The 
  Windrider', aye? What 'write', now?))" Impatience was pulling at the corners 
  of her mouth, causing a twitch.

Maerro's brow furrows as Vardeus kneels down infront of him. This isn't good. 
  Then he catches sight of the captain's face..this definately isn't good. 
  Then Vardeus tells him the news. He sits, a look of confusion and denial on 
  his face..the ship couldn't have sunk. The crew, his friends, were on board 
  the Windrider. It couldn't have sunk. "((But..They can't be all thats left. 
  What about Haegar and Tornak..))" Something else suddenly sinks in and 
  Maerro's eyes suddenly go huge, "((What about getting home?))"

Shay'la watches the interaction between the man and the boy. She can not 
  understand their words, but she does make note of the emotions. She's never 
  had the chance to note how expressive humans can be... of course she is 
  usually fighting them when she sees them so that might have something to do 
  with it. She stands back, awkwardly aware that she is witnessing such an 
  emotional scene. She, herself, has very little use for emotions anymore... 
  or so she tells herself. They just get in the way. These two should learn 
  that.

As if Vardeus didn't already have enough fuel for his nightmares, the 
  expression Maerro trains upon him at the news he's had to give well nigh 
  rips his heart in two. He swallows hard, and tries his best to soften the 
  blow, saying as gently in that deep gravelly voice of his as he can, "((I 
  dinnae know yet what we'll be able to do to get home again, Maerro. First 
  thing we gotta be doin', though, is gettin' the crew back together. Kephissa 
  and Valnek made it, there may be more. We've _gotta_ figure out how to get 
  the Little People to help us. So I need ye to be sharp for me, lad. Help me 
  figure out how to talk to 'em, and how to get a message written out so's 
  Kyethaerm can take it, in case it takes you and me a bit to be able to go 
  with her to look.))" Vardeus squeezes the boy's shoulders, and smiles just a 
  bit, hoping Maerro can see his pride in him in his face. And only then does 
  he look up again at Quietharm, blowing out a sigh and nodding to her. 
  "((Aye, Kyethaerm. Write, now.))" With that, he leans over and smooths a 
  stretch of sand with one hand, then with his forefinger he begins sketching 
  out a line of symbols. "((This, 'write'.))"

Quietharm's eyes grow large. More?? There were more on that raft they called a 
  ship? Just how many humans were aboard? All these names kept surfacing, 
  leading her to a total of seven seperate beings, if that. Some great craft 
  that must have been, to keep all of those humans afloat! Their technology 
  must be greatly advanced to have come from such a far distance on a 
  levithian raft such as they described. She nears Maerro, feeling pity for 
  the youth. Being a mother herself, she could only decribe what she felt as 
  maternal sympathies. "((Home. Maerro go home, Maerro be safe. No worry.))" 
  She pats him on the shoulder as she often did with Vardeus, but then thinks 
  better of it and dips down, giving him a light hug before stepping back to 
  watch Vardeus. At first, the spectacle left her unimpressed. Vardeus 
  scrawled something in the sand. A picture, perhaps? Pips drew things in the 
  sand often enough, it wasn't anything new. On closer inspection, however, 
  that conclusion begins to fade as she notes that the symbols repeat 
  themselves. They stay in a line and shape that is simillar to the above-all 
  form of the drawing. Most odd. "((What write do?))".

Shay'la walks over to peer at the this writing thing. She picks up a rock 
  along the way and then moves in front of Vardeus. She takes off her glove 
  and is careful to shield her hand from the sun as much as she can. The rock 
  flattens out in the palm of her hand, turning into a tablet. She looks down 
  at the symbols he placed in the sand and one by one the symbols start 
  appearing, etched into the stone tablet. She knows something of symbols... 
  the Underworlders use them to distinguish the houses... but that's about it. 
  The artist in her is drawn to the arrangement of the symbols. She sets the 
  shaped rock down next to Vardeus' writing in the sand and slips her glove 
  back on. Maybe you did hit your head really hard Vardeus... but this one can 
  make rock flow like water and take any shape she wants it to.

Maerro has seen writing before, he can even write a bit. He's more concerned 
  with reaching the other crew members though. And maybe they can do it more 
  directly then writing. He opens his hand to show the wavedancer on his palm 
  again, "((Captain, something like this helped us get to shore. They're like 
  dolphins..but a bit different. They helped lift you above water and swam us 
  both to shore. If they'll swim us one place, maybe they'll swim us to 
  another. They could have even helped Keph and Valnek made it. And if they 
  helped them, maybe they helped the others too.))" Maerro looks at Vardeus 
  hopefully. He knows it might be a stretch, but he doesn't care. If the crew 
  could have made it, then maybe the ship did. Nevermind they still don't know 
  where they are and the stars are all in the wrong place and having the ship 
  would probably not do much good.

Ye gods, but Kyethaerm's just brimming full of challenging questions, isn't 
  she? About to slant a look sideways to her and turn to her to try to figure 
  out an answer, Vardeus is distracted instead by what the tall cloaked maiden 
  does. This time, the shifting of the rock is unmistakable, and the human's 
  eyes go wide as he watches his own writing appear in the small slab she sets 
  before him. His mouth opens. Then closes. Then he stares hard at Shay'la, 
  and finally gives her a broad, marvelling grin as he includes _her_, too, in 
  his next words. "((Well, then, lovely one, that's... quite the trick ye've 
  got there an' that's a fact. Makes the writing easier, I'm thinkin'. And 
  what 'write do'...))" Here's the rub, then! You've got their attention, man, 
  use it! Still rather rattled by what he's just witnessed, it takes him a 
  moment to gesture between his own mouth and then at Maerro's round ears. 
  "((Vardeus here. Maerro here. Vardeus say, 'Vardeus and Maerro here', Maerro 
  hear.))" With him so far? "((Kephissa, _no_ here. Kephissa no hear Vardeus 
  say.))" But! Stay with him, his story gets better. He points, then, at the 
  character's he's inscribed on the sand. "((Kephissa come, Kephissa see 
  _write_, Kephissa _see_ 'Vardeus and Maerro here'.))"

Fin arrives from down the beach.
Fin has arrived.

Quietharm peers around Shay'la to investigate her work. She nods favorably up 
  at the tall elf. ** Good work, Shay'la. I think that gave them quite a stir. 
  ** She smirks, flickering her gaze between the two humans, nodding every now 
  and again. Out of an odd, random moment, she would look over to Shay'la as 
  she formed the rock, something that never failed to amaze her, as well. 
  Bending down to study Vardeus' symbols that were brazenly sticking out in 
  the grains of sand, she memorizes all that he says for later use.

Shay'la flips her dagger out of her boot and lays it down in front of Vardeus. 
  She knows symbols convey a message. She points to the two symbols on the 
  hilt of her dagger, "Shay'la" and "Goumando." She makes a face when she says 
  the last one... she doesn't seem to like that symbol very much. She then 
  points to the one on the hilt of her sword, "Uthraedo." She then points to 
  herself, "Shay'la of Uthraedo... not Goumando." Her eyes shift next to 
  Quietharm, **The symbols of the Underworld represent names... houses. They 
  show to any other which house I belong to... who I am. Perhaps their symbols 
  are much the same. They tell something to others without needing to say a 
  word.** She doesn't make mention of the stir she caused with rock shaping... 
  to her it is as natural as breathing... and certainly nothing impressive. 
  She can't shape metal after all.

Fin strides up the path from the beach, using his spear as a walking stick. 
  Impaled upon the spear is a fine catch, a couple of good-sized fish. He 
  grins widely and waves with his free hand. ** Warm tides. ** Then he blinks 
  bright violet eyes as he sees the human...

Vardeus' eyes light up with understanding as Shay'la gives him the first 
  evidence that the Little People are not entirely unfamiliar with the notions 
  he's trying to convey, and once again, he gives the tall maiden a broad 
  lopsided smile of warm approval. Oblivious to her sent surmise about the 
  purpose of his symbols, he then goes intently on, "((Vardeus... hurt.))" He 
  doesn't like admitting it, if the momentary gruffness of his voice is any 
  sign, but the evidence of eyes and ears cannot be denied. His damaged ribs 
  are still lividly bruised beneath the makeshift bandages that bind them. 
  "((Staermgraychee, Kyethaerm say, Vardeus no go, no find Kephissa, Valnek. 
  Vardeus _write_, Kyethaerm take _writing_ to Kephissa. Kephissa see, 
  Kephissa _know_, Vardeus and Maerro here, safe.))" And then, espying the 
  approach of yet another of the Little People he does not recognize, he 
  glances up.

Quietharm begins to coalesce a thought. One, impossible, seamless thought that 
  rings as clear as any bell through her head. These pictures.. these 
  etchings.. they stood for something, of course! What was made now could be 
  interpreted later by someone else just by gazing upon it. Messages could be 
  saved through time and space just by a few simple symbols. How uncanny that 
  she would have ever believed humans to be unintelligent. Simply not true, in 
  this case. ** I see, Shay'la! Most amazing! ** Mayhap elves could learn to 
  write full sentences like these humans? Maybe she could? "((Good, write. 
  You.. Vardeus, say .. you here, and Kephizza see later 'Vardeus here'! 
  Others later see 'Vardeus here' from write! I find others and tell with 
  write.))" Yes. She'd find the others with the symbols in hand. She had to, 
  as Vardeus surely could not at this point in time.

Fin just blinks, and he looks between the others, and the human. Then he 
  shrugs, grinning, for it seems that the injured human won't be a threat, and 
  says out loud (since it seems that everyone else is talking out loud), 
  "Anyone hungry?" He holds out his spearful of fish in a gesture towards the 
  fire.

Shay'la doesn't return the smile... actually she hasn't really smiled since 
  Leenar died. She hasn't had much to smile about. She slips her dagger back 
  away and takes a step back. She grimaces slightly as Fin speaks... all of 
  this speech is getting to her. She shakes her head at Fin and then looks 
  around for a rock to play with. When she can't think of anything else to do 
  with her hands she plays with rocks.

Well, can't blame a man for trying to be friendly. Shay'la's reticence only 
  serves to reinforce the impression Vardeus now has of her as 'highborn', and 
  if there's anything he's learned about the highborn, they don't tend to take 
  it well if the likes of _him_ try to intrude upon what they call their own 
  territory. Besides -- he's a guest here. Best to mind his manners. So he 
  lets the strange tall maiden move back as she will, and focuses instead on 
  Quietharm and the newcomer with the fish. To the latter, he offers, clumsily 
  but well-meant, "Taydes."

Fin offers the human a shy smile, still a bit confuzzled. "Warm tides." he 
  responds once more, approaching the fire to start preparing the fish.

Quietharm taps a finger to her lips in silent contemplation before glancing 
  over to Maerro. If rock worked only with a rockshaper, couldn't one without 
  the power etch something into a soft leather pelt? Announcing to both human 
  and elf alike in their seperate languages, Quietharm assures those gathered 
  that she would soon return with more 'write things'. Shay'la and Fin 
  recieved a much smoother message that linked together nicely, finishing off 
  the central point that she would return with a few pelts and some paintball 
  dye that the human's might write with. When she watches the interaction 
  between Vardeus and Shay'la, she sighs. Poor Shay'la, the fate of Leenar 
  came most unexpectedly and had been a blow ever since. "Shay'la ((hurt.)) 
  Leenar.. Shay'la ((care for)) Leenar. Leenar ((Hurt-Break. Gone.))" Hoping 
  that got some type of message across, in consideration for Shay'la's 
  demeanor, Quietharm edges away for now. "((Gone Little. I go, come back.))" 
  Soon, she's walking off towards the cluster of tents.

Shay'la's brows furrow at the mention of Leenar. Just what is Quietharm saying 
  about her daughter? She really shouldn't think of Leenar... it doesn't do 
  her any good to dwell on the past. What would Stormdrift say? It's time to 
  move on... Of course he isn't around anymore either. Shay slips off her 
  glove and looses herself in the shifting of the rock in her palm... wolf, 
  wavedancer, branch horn, ravvit, sea shell, whitefin, leaf....

Ah, _hells_. With the Little One gone who best speaks with him, taking his 
  cabin boy with her, Vardeus is momentarily at a loss as to how exactly to 
  speak with those who remain. The one in the cloak, Shuh-ay-la, seems to have 
  withdrawn into herself -- and if Quietharm's stilted words are any 
  indication, out of some private grief. Not exactly sure he wants to intrude 
  upon that, he gets stiffly to his feet and steps over to see if the other 
  Little One at the fire will bolt if he moves nearer. Slow, then, sailor. 
  Careful. That one seems friendly enough. Some of his attention stays on 
  Shay'la, nevertheless, as he settles down clumsily again closer to the fire. 
  "Vardeus," he announces then, hoping to get Fin's attention, gesturing at 
  himself. Then, exaggerating a questioning expression, he turns his hand 
  around to indicate the little male.

Fin deftly puts the fish on spits, returning his spear to a more usable form. 
  As Vardeus approaches, the lean young elf grips the spear almost 
  reflexively, but though he turns to face the human he doesn't raise the 
  spear -- he's just ready, in case he has to. The amethyst eyes study the 
  human's face, and his injuries, and then return to the face, and he blinks. 
  Curiously. But he offers a faint smile, motioning to the fish.

Fin
        Your eyes move over a SeaElf youth, just growing out of his 
  adolescence into a young adult. His lanky body has taken on a firmer 
  appearance, all signs of being a pip gone. Now, his growing muscles are 
  outlined and present, the smooth tanned skin witnessing frequent use and 
  training. He has reached his limit in height, moving past 4'6" and carrying 
  it well. Sparkling amethyst eyes take in the surroundings with a natural 
  mischievous gleam, the orbs enhanced by soot black lashes and arched brows. 
  A dark blue braided headband keeps his ash black hair from his face, though 
  a few strands dance about his scalloped ears and across his forehead. It 
  reaches back down to the middle of his back, some of it done in thin braids 
  to confine it better.
        He's blessed with the mixed features of his father and mother, and 
  even some from his sister. Even with his sparkling eyes, there is a serious 
  set to them, which is a trait from his father, as well as the button nose. 
  Chin and jaw are firm, though his features soften around his full pink lips 
  and an easy smile make him look like his mother and sister.
        As most Rafter males, he doesn't wear anything on his upper body, 
  revealing its deep tan and well-defined musculature. A braided copy of his 
  hairband is set about his right bicep, a smaller version tied securely right 
  below his right knee. About his neck, a blue stone knotted in to sinew rests 
  against his collarbone, attached to a solid cord. His dark blue loincloth is 
  long, reaching almost to mid-thigh and split all the way up to his hips and 
  dangling loosely to his front and backside. It appears to be a two-piece, a 
  closer fitting black loincloth underneath.
Carrying:
Blue gem

Shay'la looks up at Vardeus, to show that she is still directing some of her 
  attention towards him, even as the rock continues to shift in shape, 
  becoming everything from a boot to a bird. You know that could be a good 
  language tool, when you think about it. "Fin... He is Fin." She motions to 
  Fin with her other hand, then goes back to watching her rock.

Well, so she's not entirely withdrawn after all. Vardeus blinks at the offered 
  words, then nods his understanding at the cloaked maiden before turning a 
  grin on Fin. "Taydes, Feen," he says then, and his hand makes the circuit 
  through all three of them present, pointing at each. "Feen. Shuh-ay-la. 
  Vardeus." Those blue eyes of his settle on the shifting rock, though, 
  inevitably drawn. He can't help but be stunned -- what manner of being is 
  this, if she can change the shape of rock? His five-fingered hand gestures 
  then at the rock the she-elf holds, query coming again into his eyes.

Fin ahs, and he grins a little wider towards the muscular human, relaxing his 
  grip on his spear. "Tides, Varde-us. Hungry?" He motions towards the fish 
  again, then mimics putting a piece in his mouth.

Shay'la looks from the human to the shifting rock. It takes one final shape... 
  that of a mushroom (Okay a poisonous mushroom found in the Underworld... but 
  hey.... no one said she was perfect). She walks over and hands the mushroom 
  to Vardeus. She picks up another rock, "Rock." She then points to herself, 
  "Rock shaper." To her people that would say it all.... she should introduce 
  you to Orenth's mate... she shapes plants.

"((Skyfather,))" Vardeus breathes, eyes wide, gaze on the shaped rock the 
  she-elf hands him, then rising again to consider _her_. It occurs to him to 
  wonder whether the first word she utters is the Little People word for 
  'rock' or for the shape she's called out of it... but no. There's that word 
  again, part of the larger phrase she's uttered while indicating herself. 
  "Roch," he says then, holding the rock-shroom up by way of visual aid. 
  "Shuh-ay-la... roch shaypurr." Back to Fin, while Vardeus arches his brows 
  up. "Feeh roch shaypurr?" Exactly how many of the Little People have tricks 
  like this? Only belatedly does it occur to him that the little fellow's 
  trying to offer him fish, too. "((Ach... aye.)) Hun-gah-ree." Another grin, 
  though this one's sheepish.

Fin waits for the human to return his attention to him, and he grins, nodding. 
  He pulls a sunfruit from a nearby container, slicing it in half with the 
  blade-tip of his spear. Then Fin begins to carefully squirt sunfruit juice 
  over the cooking fish.

Shay'la looks at Vardeus, "Fin is not a rock shaper. No." Wait until you get 
  to see the caverns below that she has shaped Vardeus... it will make those 
  little trinkets look like child's play. She looks over at Fin a moment, 
  debating whether she should leave him with Vardeus, alone... but finally 
  deciding that she can always catch up to Vardeus and kill him later if he 
  hurts Fin... with those ribs he won't be moving fast any time soon. She 
  gives a nod to you both, and then grimaces slightly at the thought of 
  speaking to an elf, "Tides." With that she turns and walks away.

[With that, as Vardeus' player also needed to go, we end the log.]