[Eastern Gauthrel]Pups Together, Part 2: Shelter

[Varthakh]

64th Ymiden 717

Fridgar was on his way searching for the long grass. Him and Alistair were camping and needed to get a hold of some long narrow materials with which to craft rope... or string... or anything strong and string-like! Building shelter was harder than it looked and already the pair were stumped. Alistair's task was to find broad leaves to use to fill in the gaps while Fridgar found some sort of way to bind the sticks and stuff. It was difficult, but he could manage. As for the sticks, both were tasked with collecting the longest straightest sticks they could manage.

Fridgar had seen some long grass on the edge of the forest and sought to use it to their advantage. So, he walked to the edge of the forest, collecting a few sticks he thought suitable on the way. He was lucky, three sticks, each a meter and a half long. He stowed them away in his loin cloth from behind, tightening the cloth as to prevent them from falling loose as he walked. The other sticks, he ignored for now. He proceeded deeper into the woods, keeping an eye on the energy of his mate the whole way.

Soon enough, he arrived at the edge, beholding the grass. It was longer than he was tall, standing eight feet in the air and casting an ominous shadow. No bird tweeted here, nor did bugs chirp, it was as silent as the grave ahead of him. The Lothar would step forward tentatively, almost intimidated by the natural formation. The wail of a dying animal sounded in the distance, as well as the growl of a predator, snapping and tearing could be heard beyond the grass, though nothing could be seen.

Officially, Fridgar was freaked out.

Very carefully, he approached and squatted at the base, gently and quietly plucking as many blades of grass as he quietly could. One by one the stems of the tall green broke free, surrendering themselves to his grasp. All was quiet, calm, tranquil. He nearly had enough grass for what he and Alistair had decided was the best course of action. The sudden REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! of a charging Stekir behind him nearly gave him a heart attack. It truly was a blessing that he'd chosen to wear his loin cloth this trial as a little bit of pee came out. He didn't yelp, he was too scared. Instead, Fridgar turned and stood to his feet, facing the mewling Stekir as it bounded toward him.

With all his weight on his hind leg, he waited for the gap to close. With full aggression, he leaped at the creature mid bound and twirled mid-air, slamming his bare foot into its head with a thunderous impact that managed to break its skull open, sending its twisted body at surprising force into a tree. The sound of the impact pleased him. So much, in fact, that he did not notice the shifting of the grass behind him as a new challenger presented itself. As he turned, Palenon barely had the chance to activate as a Scython-Ur pounced at him, taking him to the dirt suddenly.

Fridgar grunted, filling with rage as he met the creature’s eyes. While he would have been freaking the fuck out otherwise, his mutation of aggression came in handy during times of duress. He managed to grip it by the fangs just in time though, as he'd done for the past three Scython-Ur he'd slain. Repeating his previous tactic, he pressed into its fangs at two different angles. One of its teeth would snap free, falling into his palm before he drove it at full force into its...

...

Fridgar returned to the river bank later. He carried with him several sticks of varying lengths, a bundle of grass tied by another piece of grass, a fallen Stekir slung over his shoulder and a Scython-Ur with several stab wounds along its neck and eye, missing a fang. "Alistair?" he called out, not immediately seeing the noble.

[Alistair]

Broad leaves. The Gauthrien Lilypad. He'd never researched it before, and the only time Alistair had ever seen it referenced had been as the name of a brothel. At the time, he didn't think anything of it, though now he realized the cleverness of that name. Cleverness that would remain deeply in the back waters of his thoughts, not investigated any further. Instead, he would find these lilypads.

They were very large, and certainly wide. Broad leaf was a fine categorization. The only issue was, he wasn't entirely sure they'd suffice as the outer layer of their wooden shelter, considering they were likely fairly damp and thin due to their extensive stay among the water's surface. Then again, Alistair knew absolutely nothing about lilypads, so he admitted that he was likely wrong. The mage explored the river bed quietly with his spear in hand, looking at the surface of the water ten percent of the time and checking every which direction the other ninety percent, out of paranoia.

It could be tiring, living here. Always having to watch your back. Looking every which way, seeking a hidden enemy. The mage decided that he wouldn't be camping out too much again - life among the more developed settlements was far preferable. In Aedirn, he'd never been attacked by a beast. The Kriger and Jeger around the area kept the cities safe and secure, while the people kept them fed and well armed.

That arrangement was better than whatever Alfweyr had along the western side of the Elv. Alistair had been attacked over a dozen times since they'd set out from Faeron, and they still had a long way to go to reach Draeslogg. After tonight, they would need to start utilizing Fridgar's Sohr Khal totem if they wanted to make it to the Temple before the end of Ymiden.

Continuing to walk along the edge, the mage found one of these giant lilypads. He grinned in excitement, and stepped into the water to grab it. It wasn't difficult to pick up, though surprisingly it was not thin and frail like he thought; it felt much like any other large leaf, merely wet on the side that had been laid against the water. The mage stepped out of the river, watching as a Stekir swam by and attempted to bite at his leg. Swiftly, the mage impaled the creature through the skull with Shadowsong, barely an instant passing from the moment his spear rose to the moment it ripped through the bottom of the creature's neck.

Spearfishing. Walking further along the edge of the Elv's offshoot, he gathered five more Gauthrien Lilypads, the massive 'leaves' slumped over his shoulder and nearly constantly falling down. If he wasn't as strong as he was, he'd be fumbling all over himself. Instead, he found that his task was finished, and the mage's wet sandals stepped out from the cold river onto the rocky bed. Returning to camp in a jog, he looked upon Fridgar, who had arrived before he did. The mage cautiously laid down the six lilypads, bowing to his mate to show his success.

"Fridgar," he called his name. "This area isn't actually that dangerous. We could build a cabin here some time, maybe even get a settlement started. It's along the Elv, and the wildlife isn't too rabid. I can see a lot of natural resources, too - stone, lumber, wheat, water, herbs, berries, meats from the predators and prey. I don't know if I'm being insane by thinking this, but -- I wouldn't mind joining the Horde. Even as a von Kaernhad. It depends on how things develop with the Empire, but... yeah. I like this place. I even like the people, surprisingly enough. I've really started to feel at home. Have you?"

[Varthakh]

When no answer came to his question, Fridgar put down the sticks, bundle of grass, Stekir corpse and Scython corpse. He'd dragged the Scython by the end of the rope by his ankle, so he had to untie that one. When at last all the strain was removed from his body, he stretched out his tired muscles and yawned warily. Carrying so much for so long was a strain, but he wasn't done yet.

When he finished his revitalising stretch, Fridgar took the free end of the rope and looked to the trees nearby. One branch hung over the spot they'd decided to make their camp, blocking out some of the burning sun and casting a pleasant shade at the ground around them. Fridgar decided it would be best to hang the Scython from there so that it would be fresh for later or for the next trial when Alistair could eat. If he still wasn't hungry, then Fridgar certainly would be.

He stood at the base of the tree and looked to Alistair's energy, he was still some ways up the river from here. He'd said that they weren't allowed to use magic, buuut... Fridgar cast echo, taking the prowess of the Llewnos. Barely making a sound, Fridgar lifted the Scython-Ur and tied it to his back. Then, very quickly, he crawled in bounds up the bark of the tree, almost appearing to run on all fours before throwing himself from the wood and landing gracefully on the branch, crouched and ready. By the immortals, it felt awesome to do that. Just as he finished untying the Scython from his back, Alistair returned.

The noble was there, a good twelve feet below him. Alistair called to him, so he quickly finished hanging the Scython before dropping the echo and holding on tight to the branch. Carefully, he dropped so that his arms were fully extended and he dangled from the tree. Once he stopped swinging, he released the branch and squatted into his landing with a heavy thud that didn't break his knees.

"My love," Fridgar replied to the calling of his name while standing up and brushing off his paws. Alistair then spoke of his mind, saying that the land was beginning to feel like home to him. Fridgar would smile, nodding. Yes, this place was growing on him. This might be the only place in the world that knew him and didn't want him dead. Hell, if anything, the people here liked him. It was so much better than the shithole island of Rynmere where you can't even have a bar fight without getting arrested. Even so, he got everything he needed from there and got out, Alistair was his now, soon to be his for eternity.

"I love it here," Fridgar spoke, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. "It's like I told you on the trial of the survivor, I don't belong anywhere unless I'm with you. This place though, it understands me. Lots of people are like me; hot headed and crazy strong," he jokingly flexed his arm, bulging his bicep. "Plus, I can literally walk around in nothing but my loin cloth and not get arrested, when guards would tell me to put my shirt back on everywhere else," what he was trying to say was that he felt free in Gauthrel, like he was always meant to be.

"Alistair, I don't wanna leave Gauthrel, I wanna stay here with you," Fridgar confessed, looking out to the flowing waters as the pair stood with one another. "It's different to Rynmere and Etzos, I think I can be genuinely happy here as long as you're with me," His thoughts trailed off in that moment, contemplating the cabin idea. "As for the cabin... I'm not very handy with a hammer and nails... Do you know anyone with that sort of background?" he appeared to be taking Alistair's suggestion seriously.

But, for now, they had to build a shelter. Fridgar would kiss his beloved on the cheek before approaching their wide variety of sticks and looking over the Lilly Pads that Alistair had gathered. "Those will do nicely, well done, my rose" he knelt in the white soil as he sorted through the sticks, arranging them from long to short. He didn't have much of a plan with this one, what was he even doing with the sticks? How could one possibly make a shelter out of sticks grass and Lilly Pads?

The Lothar kind of paused, visibly struggling with his creativity, his artistic spark; diminished. Perhaps he could start making some sort of tent from sticks and leaves, maybe Alistair will intervene and give him some direction? it was as good a plan as any. Taking the four longest pieces of wood, Fridgar snapped the ends to try and make them look even. Then, he took three blades of grass and sort-of rolled them together, twisting hard in an effort to make a rope. He then thrust hard into the dirt with the stick, though maintained a good angel so that he didn't break them. Then, with the tops of each stick crossing over one another, he began to tie his make shift rope.

When he was finished, he'd crafted a sturdy-looking triangle frame with sticks, one of the edges being the floor. It was about big enough to fit two Fridgars in it, if they cuddled. Turning to his mate, he spoke "What do you think? I figure we can just make the frame of a basic tent and fill in the blanks with more sticks and Lilly Pads?" he sought his mate's reassurance.

[Alistair]

Fridgar was in a tree. Of course he was - the man could never do anything at a low level, he always had to do the next craziest thing. The Venora shook his head with a laugh under his breath, grinning and waving at his mate as he saw him hold himself with his arms above his head before swinging down into a squat. My love, Fridgar called him, causing for Alistair's chest to lighten some. "My darling," the mage replied, incredibly satisfied by the company of his beloved.

Of course, he couldn't let Fridgar's acrobatic show-off move slide. The mage offered his Thorn a smirk before charging at him, leaping forward and cartwheeling off the surface of his broad shoulders, raised legs grabbing the branch of the tree and wrapping around it to the point of his knees. Alistair looked downward from that position, hanging from the tree by his legs and staring at Fridgar as his hair hung as low as it could.

In the acrobatic dick measuring contest, he'd won. Like Keanu said, there were almost none better than him in that field. Shadowdancing had become a part of him -- like it was a part of the Llewnos, but better than they were. Now, he only needed to learn real dancing, so he could show off there, too. Alistair had fallen well into his role as the nimble, dexterous one of the two, whilst Fridgar occupied the seat of the berserk armor-less beast with pectorals of corundum and a forehead of Terrendyte.

Eventually, though, perhaps they'd both occupy both roles. He didn't know -- they were progressing fast. Gauthrel had made them... hard.

Leaping down with a spinning flip and landing cleanly on two feet, the mage dusted himself off, further acting ever the braggart. "Sorry, I just had the strongest compulsion to go tree climbing," Alistair stated, turning his head and blowing a loose strand of hair from near his eyes. On came their next conversation, one the mage reveled in, mostly because it meant they finally found a home. Even if they settled ultimately in Kaernhad, the land there was not all too contrarian from here. They could join the Horde, if it came down to it -- add Lotharen to the ranks of their colonial enterprise. It didn't matter, the Horde had accepted them and loved them. It was a place worth protecting, honestly. He truly believed that - believed in being a Jeger.

"I want to stay here with you, too," the mage nodded, moving in to hug his mate. "I love Gauthrel, and I love you. I think I want to raise our children here -- live in Aedirn with Kaiserion as our close family friend, make life-long connections, give these people a medical industry and an insight into magic that's less than destructive. I think... I think we can change this world, Fridgar. Genuinely. And I know I want to. I want to offer the people of Idalos an alternative to mindlessness -- Wisdom, knowing, understanding. I want people to become enlightened, to know people like us and not judge us immediately for what we present. To know that a naked warrior who loves to drink, fight and fuck like yourself is as equal and valuable as a man reigning from the highest seat of a great tower. I love Gauthrel, because I know the people here have good hearts. They have been taught to love their brothers. I've never felt such a strong sense of belonging anywhere else, not even where I'm from."

In short... he really liked it here. He was becoming a brother, even though he wasn't a Lotharro. When he became an accomplished Jeger, maybe they'd really respect him. He knew they valued him as a mage, as a doctor, as an incredible warrior. It was this value, based on merit and contribution, that he believed to have loved the most. It wasn't decadence, nepotism or aristocracy -- it was skill, strength, resolve. Gauthrel was truly the most fair of lands he'd been to - they couldn't afford decadence, its cost was too great.

By the time he was done speaking up about his fondness of the region, he'd forgotten about the cabin. It wasn't like he knew any carpenters or architectural specialists here, anyhow. He'd just have to commission some, like he did with Kaelserad.

With everything gathered, though, they could at least begin on the archaic, primeval adaptation of a log cabin - a shelter of sticks, grass and leaves. Lovely. Fridgar actually had fairly good ideas about the frame, whereas Alistair didn't. He was so far form an architect, it pained him. "Fridgar," he called to his mate, "it looks really good." Not really good by urban standards, of course, but . . .

"I think we'll have to add more sticks to keep it standing. I have more," he said, attempting to angle the sticks to keep the shelter standing before lodging them into the ground much as he did his spear. He tied grass rope around the sticks to keep them together, binding them across the frame of the tent and curving his lip. It didn't look good, and he'd probably screwed up. But -- whatever. The inner foundation was good. All that needed to be done now was sticking leaves on, and he already knew how.

He made an upper platform of sticks by crossing two together and laying them atop the rope running across the triangular shape, and with that upper platform he punctured four broad leaves on each pointy end of the sticks running across. The four leaves were enough to conceal the far majority of the tent, and it was actually starting to look good. Now, he would just have to tie some grass rope around the leaves, keeping them pressed into the wooden structure and holding everything together firmly.

After doing so, he slipped two lilypads in-between the margins by sliding them through the ropes that were pressed together and impaling them on the edges of some of the pointy ends of the sticks. With that, the majority of the shelter was made, they just needed to add flooring - which he'd brought - and two bedrolls pressed together, operating as their joint bed, but only because they'd be closely cuddling.

If all else failed, he could always just pitch the tent he'd already bought, but...

"Fridgar, get the bedrolls from my pack?" he asked, looking at his mate for help. "I think we might be done. Would you like to start the fire?"

[Varthakh]

Of course, Alistair had to go and show off, propelling himself into the tree and everything, dangling a little higher than Fridgar could reach. His mismatched eyes narrowed on the noble as he dangled from above. Fridgar took a couple of steps back before running at Alistair and leaping, from under him, he utilised sky stepping to make a hard surface with his portals. From there, he planted a soft kiss on the noble's lips, giving him an upside-down smooch, most passionately. He opened his mouth and all, tasting his beloved from upside down for the first time.

Until his sky-step lost stability and broke beneath him, sending him plummeting to the ground with wide eyes, breaking the kiss suddenly. The fall was such a shock that he even landed on his ass, failing to catch himself. As he stood up, he'd rub his behind painfully before speaking "Doesn't count as using magic!" he declared fiercely, which was sort of true. He hadn't used it for survival, just for fun... and the urgent need to kiss his beloved. As Alistair jumped down, Fridgar retorted with "You mean 'show off'," he called his mate out on his bullshit tree climbing. Fridgar shook his head "You need to teach me to do that some time, you have no idea how long it took me to climb that damn tree," he bluffed.

Alistair also wanted to stay here with him, true right. He'd have been concerned if Alistair rejected his proposal of staying in this land after everything they'd learned about one another. Although, he couldn't help but widen his eyes at the notion of changing the world. Admittedly, it sounded a little farfetched to him, but he believed in Alistair, if anyone at all. "Alistair..." Fridgar spoke with other concerns, "I have no doubt that we can, but... What if I make it worse somehow?" he'd never been the careful type, nor the precise. Fridgar often charged in head first and thought afterwards. He'd already made an entire Island worse by flailing about with his shenanigans, drawing loads of attention and using magic publicly; Rynmere.

"You've already proven to me that I'm capable of great things, Alistair, I don't doubt that," Fridgar shook his head, taking his mates paws into his own. "But I have a bad habit of fucking up everything, deliberate or not," these were legitimate concerns for someone as hot-headed or berserk as himself. Often, he left the world colder without even realising it. Removing a loved one from the world, breaking a family, causing a magic inquisition... Was the power to change the world really one that should fall into mortal hands? Great things, yes, but not always in the direction desired.

Fridgar couldn't help but smirk at the idea of someone like Fridgar being worth the same as a king. Like hell, there were plenty of Fridgars out there. It was a nice thought, but one that wouldn't likely see the light of trial. Even so, he couldn't discourage his beloved. He truly believed in him, but lacked faith in the rest of the world. Alistair, his beloved rose, he aimed so high and tried so hard. But Fridgar's aspirations were... humbler in recent trials. All he wanted was to live out his trials with Alistair, raise a family and be a good father, husband, maybe find some friends. Hell, he'd already made two; Kaiserion and Aeon. Come to think of it, the two would make a love pairing. "If anyone can pull it off, it’s you, Alistair," he spoke his words of encouragement before gently kissing his beloved on the lips.

Once the discussion ended, Fridgar was working on the tent. Alistair thought it was good, but Fridgar less so. It looked crappy in his personal opinion, but Alistair had some ideas to make it better. The noble went about crafting the other end of the 'tent' and suggested reinforcing it. "That’s a good idea, I don't want to accidentally knock the whole thing over when I roll," he agreed. After both ends of the tent were completed, he took the longest stick, though it was hardly straight, curving at the centre. Placing the piece of wood atop the two triangles, he tied it down to the points of the triangles, forming a sort of cylindrical triangle.

In a joint effort, the two got to work adding ribs to the body of the tent, simple support beams that worked for both support and aiding in the mounting of Lilly Pads. Each and every section they tied would increase its stability and give it a more sturdy-looking appearance. Overall, it was looking pretty good. Alistair then added the Lilly Pads, using his inner artist to make the structure look as pretty as possible. Of course, why wouldn't he? But at least he'd delegated Fridgar the fun Job.

"Fire? No problem! I'll fetch the bedrolls as soon as I'm done!" How the fuck do people start fires out in the wild? He started by gathering the driest of the sticks they'd gathered, as well as some wigs and things from the floor near the trees. As well as the sticks, he collected some dry grass, left with little shade or mercy from the sun. When he'd gathered it all, Fridgar plopped it all down in front of the tent, a rough three feet away. "Don't worry, I have a plan," he spoke, assuring the noble. "We can keep the fire close to the shelter so that we can stay warm if the night is cold!"

If Alistair expressed any concerns regarding a fire safety risk, Fridgar would simply wave his hand. "I've got it covered, we can just put stones around the fire and contain it," the survival expert Fridgar explained. "I know what I'm doing, ha ha!" no he didn't. He hadn't had to eat anything cooked since Zi'da, he just went out, killed something, ate his fill and came back often. He stepped over to the riverbanks and walked into the shallow water. There, where the water wasn't rapid, he collected various stones, all roughly the size of a fist before bringing back a dozen or so.

After letting them dry in the hot sun for a bit, Fridgar picked up the steamy rocks and assembled a circle outside of their shelter. He put some wood in there and plenty of dried grass, he put a notch in the centre of one of the pieces of wood with the fang of the Scython-Ur before placing an un-shaven piece of wood in the notch on a vertical axis. He'd heard of this method of lighting fires all over; in taverns, inns, on the street, but he'd never actually attempted it meanwhile, the shelter was looking gorgeous. He couldn't fail now or Alistair would show him up!

Very quickly, he rubbed the length of the tick back and forth the create a sort-of circular-like-rotation of the stick. The end of the stick he held would twist and turn against the notch, creating friction. While there was no sign of a potential fire in the mass of wood and dry grass, his paws were starting to burn, hurt even. Regardless, he didn't stop spinning and twisted the wood faster even. being as strong and durable as he was on a trial as hot as this, wisps of smoke began to rise from the fire pit, tickling his nostrils. "Alistair! It’s working! I can smell it!" he called as the smoke grew more plentiful. Soon, the grass caught embers of the heat and lit, slowly turning into flames.

Fridgar quickly released the stick, which was lined with red, and let it be consumed by the fire. Fridgar looked to his stinging eyes as the fire became self-sustaining. He'd cut himself in a few places of his palms and fingers. "Shit, that stings," he also had a few splinters embedded into his thick skin. A pained expression looked to Alistair, not the victorious smile he might have been expecting. Carefully, Fridgar tried to manoeuvre his sore hands to remove the splinters, only managing to wince and keep pushing. Instead, he yelped and withdrew his paw.

Desperate eyes settled on the noble as he held out his fucked-up hands. "Alistair, please... I can't, it hurts..." he pleaded through teary eyes.

[Alistair]

Fridgar began to make a fire, going down the riverbed gathering stones. The Becomer acquired a wide array of fist-sized rocks to circle around the fire, preventing its structure from falling apart or lighting the grass around it. Alistair continued to set up their shelter as Fridgar built the fire, though found himself very concerned when he tried to bring the fire so close to the makeshift tent. "Fridgar, it's Ymiden. I don't know if we'll be that cold -- can't we handle the problem with cuddles?" he asked, raising a brow. They always warmed themselves with cuddles before -- why did they need a fire now? That would just make them both sweaty.

Apparently, Fridgar had it handled, with the stones. Alistair would continue to attempt to speak out, but Fridgar's boisterous laughter cut him off. Rolling his eyes, the mage decided not to bother, instead continuing to built their tent of sticks, grass and leaves. It was just about done. Right around the time he finished making the shelter, Fridgar successfully managed to start the fire, though not without cost to himself. His hands were burned with friction, and his paws had splinters lodged into them. The mage bit his lip and winced -- it looked hurtful. He would need to treat him.

"Come here, my love," the mage whispered, leading Fridgar a ways from camp, down by the riverbed. He sat him down by the water, and soothed him by stroking his chest, his fingers stroking beneath his pectorals and then rubbing down and massaging his biceps and triceps. Then, suddenly, his free palm rapidly began to pluck splinters from his paw, pulling them all out at once while Fridgar was relaxed, so as to reduce the shock and pain. The mage brought his fingers closely together and plucked each splinter with two opposing fingernails. Once the splinters were gone, he began to wash Fridgar's paws with the cold water, attempting to mend the painful burn with a cool and wet sensation. He grabbed a medical cream akin to aloe vera from his pack, and rubbed dabs of it across Fridgar's paws once they were dry. They would recover quickly.

"My love, does that feel better?" he asked, leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips. Just as he did, however, he could hear a crackling and an expansion of the flames; they lit up their shelter, the heat setting the leaves and sticks ablaze and consuming the whole of it before long. Alistair grimaced, and threw out his hand. Opening a portal above the tent, he pulled it through and flung it from the sky, the burning tent falling down into the river from above them. It was doused, and would burn for only a few more trills before it went out, but... it was shattered, charred, unusable. Alistair frowned.

"Fridgar, I told you," he said with a sigh. "Alright, we're sleeping in the tent I bought. Grab it from my pack and go get it pitched?" he asked, looking to his mate with a mixture of disappointment and excitement, somehow in unison. Disappointment in that they couldn't sleep in the product of their creation, but excitement in that they could sleep in a real tent, certifiably more comfortable. Silver linings.

[Varthakh]

Fridgar whimpered some more as he beheld his poor paws, though Doctor Alistair was more than ready to treat his affliction. He took the Lothar over to the river side and soothed him with his caress. It worked, Fridgar almost forgot about the pain in his paws. Then, Alistair got to work removing the splinters, using his finger nails to pluck them free of his skin. Fridgar yelped at first, jolting a little as his muscles tensed. He did not fight back though, this had to be done.

Soon, Alistair had rid him of all the splinters and left his paws only slightly blood and red with clear pain. he then rinsed his hands in the fresh water, working his fingers into the wounds while the coolness of the passing waters soothed him. Fridgar purred, the cooling waters felt so nice against his burn injuries. Alistair's administration hurt at first, but soon faded. "I should have shaved the bark from the stick, I wouldn't have gotten burns if it was smooth," Fridgar confessed, though he now knew for next time.

When the smell of burning hit him, however, Fridgar couldn't help but grimace and look to the shelter they'd spent all this time setting up; It was ablaze. "Noooo!" the beast wailed, "NOOOOOOOOO!" Alistair then opened a portal and sucked up the burning debris before casting it into the river. Of course, he had to add the little 'i told you so', it was in his nature. Fridgar sighed, watching as all their hard work simmered and smoked before extinguishing, carried away as it broke apart into charred pieces. "For fucks sake, I'm sorry Alistair," Fridgar looked most pitiful as he pouted, trying his best to make a puppy-dog eyed expression at the noble.

"Maybe we would have been a little too warm at night..." he joked, though now probably wasn't the time for jokes, they were mourning. Thankfully, Fridgar had never gotten around to putting the bedrolls in. it would have been a disaster if he'd had to. Also, thankfully, Alistair had brought a back-up tent. It was a huge four-man one, they'd have plenty of space in there. As much as it felt like cheating to just use a tent they brought with them instead of building their own shelter, they'd spent a lot of time on that one and it was getting dark. Fridgar shook his head.

"No, you're right. Let's set up this tent and get cosy," Fridgar declared his plan of attack. The pair soon after got up from the river side and got to the main of the land before quickly and easily setting up the man-made tent a safe distance from the fire.

[Arlo Creede]

Review: Rewards

Alistair

Knowledge:
Fieldcraft: Successfully creating a wilderness shelter
Fieldcraft: Using stones for a firepit
Fieldcraft: Don't put a fire too close to a flammable shelter
Fieldcraft: Using a tent for shelter in the wilderness
Acrobatics: Hanging from something with your legs
Acrobatics: Leaping onto someone's shoulders for escalation
Acrobatics: Comboing acrobatic moves
Persuasion: Asking someone to settle down somewhere

Fridgar: Worried about revealing
Fridgar: Friction burned himself
Fridgar: Likes it in Gauthrel
Fridgar: Belongs

Loot: 2 bedrolls and 4 man tent (bought and paid for).
Injuries/Overstepping: N/A
Fame: +1 General Good Deed (Healing Fridgar)
Devotion: N/A
Collaboration: Yes
Magic EXP: No

Points 15

Fridgar

Knowledge:
Acrobatics: Dangling at full arm length before dropping to reduced the impact of the fall
Acrobatics: Easier with rupturing
Field Craft: Weaving long grass into rope
Field Craft: Starting a fire with friction
Field Craft: Do not put the fire too close to the tent
Field Craft: Shave the stick before rubbing to avoid injury
Field Craft: Building a shelter from sticks, grass and leaves
Hunting: Utilising the bones and teeth of the kill for weapons
Rupturing: Sky Stepping to hold a jump

Alistair: Was right about the fire
Alistair: An artist in tent crafting
Alistair: Healed your paw
Alistair: Likes it in Gauthrel
Alistair: Belongs

Loot: N/A
Injuries/Overstepping: N/A
Fame: N/A
Devotion: No
Collaboration: Yes
Magic EXP: No

Points: 15

Comments: You know the drill. Any concerns, just a pm away.