-----The young mage first sighs, not disrespectfully but rather with weariness. Wistfully, he continues to stare after the receding sight of the hunters moving to scout the distant village.
-----“My father runs an inn in our small village of Ragsmore,” Jyan begins. “My mother has always been there to help tend to the cleaning and the kitchen. My two sisters serve in the kitchen though they are of age to receive suitors.”
-----As the young man continues to stare with a blank look over the plains, Lovan huffs. Obviously, the Storm Priest is impatient with the attention given to Jyan, perhaps still distrustful of him.
-----Somewhat uncharacteristic, Pil struggles with his words before saying, “So . . . uh, . . the armies took yer folk . . . n’ made ye serve wit’ em.”
-----Jyan remains quiet for a moment and then he seems to resettle himself in his saddle. His eyes seem to refocus and he answers, “Aye, that they did. . . and I intend to find them one way or another.”
-----"Describe them t'me." Sol told the mage, though despite the order, it still sounded more like a request.
-----Jyan appears to shake and then he relaxes as if taken from his thoughts. Realizing that a description might help these others find his family he begins to offer an answer.
-----“My father, Julian Abernath, is a portly man with fair and graying hair receding from his head. He has red cheeks puffed from the good drink he always has offered his customers,” Jyan first says.
-----He continues by saying, “Most have said that it is my mother that I favor as I have gotten my dark hair from her. She is a tall lady with a graceful air about her, though her eyes can grow dark if she is affronted. My mother’s name is Alynnsa.”
-----“My two sisters are only a year apart in age, though their appearance could hardly be a clue that they are sisters. Julia, the eldest, is shorter and has long blonde hair with a beautiful round face. Alyssa favors my mother with raven dark hair and a beauty that has been described as haunting.”
-----By Jyan’s expression, it is very clear that he is very fond of his family as he describes them. He then sobers a bit and looking at Sol said with appreciation in his eyes, “Thank you for asking of them.”
-----Sol nods in understanding and sympathy. If he could aid this young mage in finding his family, he would. It sounded like a tight-nit family, the Gorian thought to himself somberly. Sol glanced to the skies above, and asked Lovan, "What do ye think o' this day?"
-----The Storm Priest grimaces as he gives a quick scan of the sky. “Humph,” he grunts, “hardly a cloud in the sky. Give me a day packed full of clouds and I could destroy the enemy as we meet them.”
-----Lovan pauses and works his jaw in frustration. He quietly adds, “It’s as if the Rager favored the enemy.”
-----“Nah,” Strolum suddenly chimes in, “that canna be true! Tis evil at works here, plain n’ simple. Yer Rager wouldn’ be wantin’ these evil people t’lead th’ world. They be worshippin’ them gods o’ th’ lower worlds, they be!”
-----Dilton quickly makes a gesture across his chest that Sol recognizes as a symbol of protection used by those that follow the worship of Joren. He had seen it many times used by some of the guardsmen he had accompanied before coming to Hearthorn.
-----Pil sits calmly as suddenly Lovan erupts at Strolum’s comment. “What do ye know of the ways of the Rager? Does he care for the intentions of men? Perhaps the Rager sees some reason to favor these men of Ravenhold!”
-----This draws a strange grim expression from Jyan as the young mage turns toward the Storm Priest.
-----"Working out th' motives o' one such as th' Great Rager are nigh impossible. I fer one, doubt that Strator would care much fer th' causes an' quibbles o' men." Sol muses, his own features still quite calm in comparison to the Storm Priest's. "An even if he did, I would not think that a spot o' fair weather dictates his feelings. There is always a storm brewing somewhere, an' if we are fer now denied th' Skylord's heavenly favour here, then we'll have t'start our own. We've done like a'fore and we'll continue t'do so as needed. Either way, th' Rager is always with me an' so it matters not what is without." Serenely, the Gorian now smiled, certain of the words he has spoken.
-----“Yes, yes,” Lovan grumbles further, “but now this confounded waiting . . . must we now be so far behind the others while they see what is beyond the next rise?”
-----“Perhaps if but to keep your voice from carrying across the valley,” Jyan says with a threatening gleam in his eye aimed toward the Storm Priest.
-----“Watch your tongue, whelp,” Lovan snarls, pointing his warhammer at the young mage. “I am not convinced of our need to tolerate you. I would be just as satisfied to leave you here for the carrion birds to feast on.”