Mellia — Rebel Pause
????, Earth Season, Season/Disorder Week
Context
1626 Earth Season/Disorder Week/Fireday/afternoon, on the road to Wilmskirk. [[[s02:session-2|Session 2]]]
Events
On the first day’s travel, going out towards Wilmskirk, Berra hops up onto the wagon. She manages the jump even in full armour, landing lightly, and then sits down in a fluid slouch of elegance and bronze. She is apparently taking a rest from walking.
Mellia is impressed by the jump. “That’s amazing, Berra. I couldn’t do that.”
Berra looks around. “Huh? What?”
“I couldn’t jump onto the wagon the way you did.”
“Oh, right. Well, most people can. They just don’t realise it. Could you do it in a Heroquest, to save a patient?” Berra sits up straight, rolling out her shoulders for a moment.
“I could certainly try. I know the Goddess could do it,” replies Mellia.
Berra nods. “I bet you could. For me, the reason to do it is wanting to be on the wagon, but if you had a reason, you could too.” She stretches, an impressive shimmer of bronze scales. “I have a question for you. It’s sort of a weird one, I think.”
“Ask away,” Mellia says.
Berra puts it straight out, “Do you ever have any problems with authority, and rebellion?”
Mellia gazes down the road, thinking hard. “I did as a child. My mother wanted to raise perfect little nobles. I always wanted to heal things, or be in the garden. Maybe that’s why I was so fond of Varanis when we were young; she had the courage to do all kinds of stuff.”
Berra sighs. “How do you deal with it?”
“Immense stubbornness and getting out of range,” Mellia answers. “It’s part of why I was wandering Sartar instead of working at the Great Hospital.”
“Right. I sort of get that. But I don’t have anything to kick against right now. I think I’m going to get into very bad trouble if I don’t find action.” Berra looks briefly glum.
“Berra, we love you. As much as I’d like to avoid fights on the way to Nochet, we will probably find at least one. That Dark Troll, for instance, really wants to kill us now.”
There is a small wince from the small Humakti. “Uh, yes. But also, in Nochet, I’m probably not going to want to stay under the same roof all the time. It depends how long we’re there. Right now, I don’t have my High Sword to … well, you might know how I feel about him. He’s been pretty solid as a thing I can’t punch for some time now.”
Mellia asks, “Are we talking D’Val, or Eril? I’m not sure what to do about arrangements for you, other than having you as a guest.”
“Lord Eril. Although also, I suppose, Lord D’Val – but I don’t really react against him. Only if you know of any ways I can stop wanting to change everything all at once when I’m frustrated, I could do with them.”
“Lord Eril,” Mellia observes, “is a frustrating person. Mostly because he keeps doing things people want to punch him for without dying afterwards. I don’t know how to help you, Berra. Perhaps if you focus on the good things about Nochet? That’s what I’m doing.”
Berra grins. “He’s a hero. I admire that in him.” For a moment there is a flash of genuine happiness, and then she leans back a little to look up at the sky, leg extended as a balance. “Nochet has a lot of good things, but I want to go to Prax. I want to go to Valind’s Glacier. I want to go to a lot of places, and I don’t want to keep going to the same ones.”
“I don’t know if I want to go to Prax. I gather it’s dangerous for wandering healers.”
“Ew. That’s bad. They shouldn’t do that.”
“I don’t think they hate wandering healers. I think I just don’t have the skills to survive a visit.”
“Oh, right. But we’d take you with us. I’ve walked across there twice. Once with Rajar – he made sure I didn’t get into bad trouble. It would be tougher than here. But I don’t know anything about what’s West of Dragon Pass, for example.”
“Hmm,” says Mellia. “Rajar and Nala could help me cross Prax safely.”
“Have you ever been to Pavis? I know Nala wants to go to the Zola Fel.” Berra’s smile is sudden, although it is still pointed towards Yelm.
“I have never been to Pavis. I’d like to see it.”
Berra states the obvious. “It’s hot. It seems big compared to what’s around it, but not as hot as the Rubble. I looked in there, but only to say I had. I didn’t go in. Maybe we’d find my Troll there?”
“Maybe.”
“I might be more enthusiastic over that than you are,” Berra says. “I don’t want to, but it is sort of my duty.”
“I understand,” Mellia reassures Berra. “We could visit the Troll Lands, but that might be too much fighting.”
“That might be. I wouldn’t want to lose. It would be awkward. Anyhow… how are you doing?” Berra sits more normally again.
“Surprisingly well,” Mellia says. “I shouldn’t need a rest for at least an hour. I seem to be getting my stamina back fast, which is good.”
“Do you want to walk with me for a bit? We seem to have slowed down a lot.”
“Sure. I wonder what’s going on up ahead?”
“People. I’ve seen roads this busy before, but only when I was marching on them. I think it’s just people walking home. You go at the speed of the slowest.” Berra springs off so she can offer her hand to Mellia.
Mellia clambers down from the wagon. She needs Berra’s helping hand. Once she’s on the ground, Mellia is fine.
Berra walks alongside, protective but not hovering too much. She stays at the slow pace that the wagon sets, walking with the casual ease of the infanteer.
