Jasa'lah repeated to Jilitse, "The Watch is a group of Drykas who patrols the Sea of Grass. I have heard that Aslode's father is a member, and soon so shall he." And he praised Dohaina, "Your strider is very beautiful." To Jilitse he said, "Aslode's mount is also a Cyphrus Strider, the best horse here in the Sea of Grass. I am a stranger to their history, but certain breeds are fit for certain terrains."
Jilitse threw a piercing stare towards Dohaina's way, before resting her unblinking eyes at Sama'el and told him, "Jasa'lah is convinced that I should not have brought my Mountain Pony along." With his back to Jilitse, Jasa'lah mouthed a message to Sama'el, "That's what she named her horse." Hinting that it might be a sensitive topic for the Nuit.
However, Jilitse had been quite observant enough of the context in Jasa'lah's words earlier. "Do not bother, Jasa'lah. I know full well that MP," Her abbreviation of the horse's name, "is not exactly fit to travel from Sylira to Eyktol," her voice was nonchalant, though even Jasa'lah knew that Jilitse placed great value in the mare. "She was given to me by a friend," and she revealed in those words the importance she placed on MP. Even the undead knew how to put value into things that have life, it seemed.
"The horse is sturdy, holds herself up proper," she said, "Though I would say I know nothing of horses until the day she was given to me. She'd proven her mettle so far." The Nuit said, "But we're barely halfway our travel. I hope she finds her strength."
Jilitse's openness surprised Jasa'lah. He gave her a questioning stare, which she shrugged away, "If I'm to tell a story to strangers, I might as well start practicing talking to people." A private joke, between the two of them, though not really the funny kind.
Still, they were an odd couple. Jasa'lah was warm towards Sama'el, knowing that he was Drykas and a member of the Watch. Jilitse noticed that Jasa'lah was like that among other people, open and trusting - his best trait, yet also his greatest weakness. "We are just waiting for supper," the Benshiran told him, "The caravan makes us pay to join, but food and security is taken care of. Come, my friend, I think the roasted chickens are more than ready." The smell had been lingering in the air, someone in the group was a good cook.
Jasa'lah enjoined Sama'el to get food, leaving the Nuit behind. She just stared as they went away. Jilitse always felt out-of-place whenever the pulsers needed to eat, as it was a kind of social activity that she could not join, and would not join even if invited to. Not that it mattered much to her, being alone was always appreciated. The other thing she appreciated was the warmth of the camp fire, it fought away the cold of the night.
The first to come was an elderly woman, though not frail and helpless, and her granddaughter. They were not Drykas, but they were traveling to Endrykas. "I heard that you were going to tell a story. I am Merliam, and this is my granddaughter, Luperil. We always join Aslode's caravan whenever we travel to Endrykas. Luperil's mother is of the Opal Clan." The old lady introduced themselves. Jilitse nodded at them, forcing a smile, "My name is Jilitse and I hail from Sahova. Thank you." It was odd being approached by people, and friendly people at that. Luperil was a little more circumspect about the Nuit, though polite, "I hope you appreciate the company, you have always been so aloof." And they made themselves comfortable on a nearby seat that Jasa'lah himself had arranged, and went on to eat. They returned Jilitse's smile and exchanged glances.
Another man, a Drykas, came. He was carrying a mug of ale, and seemed to be finished with his food. He did not bother to introduce himself, but raised a the mug to Jilitse, who nodded back at him. Three was already a big crowd, Jilitse thought, though if she counted Jasa'lah and Sama'el, that made it five. Aslode gave word that he will come by, and that would mean six. She straightened herself and sighed. This was not her first time in a crowd, but this will be the first time she will be addressing a crowd. The thought of having everyone's attention knotted her rotting innards.
Soon Jasa'lah returned, face content. Sama'el may or may not have come abck with him. He moved his way through the camp and sat right next to Jilitse, giving the Nuit a big smile and a pat in the back for a consolation.
And then arrived a woman with a bandaged arm, with a young man assisting her. It seemed as if they were the guest of honor in this gathering, seeing as a few stood up to welcome their arrival. Her name was Ipoeta, of Drykas descent. Jasa'lah waited until everybody was seated. Some were still having their meal, but most were already finished and ready to listen. There were 7 of them all in all, not including Jilitse. A big crowd, considering that there were less than twenty in the caravan. Not everybody wanted to hear the Nuit's tale, and some others needed to keep watch.
"Are we all settled?" Jasa'lah asked. Seeing as nobody interrupted, he continued, "We are gathered here tonight to finally meet my lady companion, Jilitse of Sahova. She had been with us since Syliras, but no one among us, even I, truly know her. She may have been a mystery to us, but her help from the day previous did not escape our attention." He was a little serious, his mirth wiped off his face. "I hope that your presence here today confirms what I have told you before, that not all undead are the horrible creatures we know from tales and legends."
Jilitse nudged Jasa'lah a little, the man was getting too showy. "Please, do not be so formal." Jilitse awkwardly said, "But it is my pleasure to meet everyone, including our visitor."
A few people returned the gratitude, and the ice slowly melted away. The woman with the bandaged arm was the next to speak, "From my heart, and from my family, we thank you sincerely Jilitse. Your help was precious. I think I can say that everybody is thankful for your presence. I am glad Aslode had decided to let you come with us, else I wouldn't know what would have happened to me." You'd be dead, Jilitse mused to herself, but she knew enough manners not to voice out rudeness.
The story, Sama'el would later know as someone recounted a version of the story to him, was that there was a minor attack on the caravan. It was a group of slavers led by a Zith, who had feral dogs with them. It was manageable, not so much of a threat that the warriors in the caravan could not handle, but a minor slip at coordination caused the Zith leader to find an opening and nab Ipoeta. She was poisoned, her arm broken before Jasa'lah himself delivered a killing blow at the Zith with his khopesh. It was by good chance that there was a healer in the group, though not marked by Rak'keli, she had enough skill to determine the poison used upon Ipoeta, and create a tourniquet for the Ipoeta's broken arm. She will be properly seen to once they get home.
Jilitse found an opening to begin her story after that, "I was not much of help, but I did what I could," she rubbed her right hand, "it was as if something tugged at me." She was serious, not really caring if Ipoeta would be taken aback if she learned that the Nuit did not have original intentions to help.
"Jasa'lah was at my side when it happened," she said, "he fought off one of the dogs on his own." She looked his way, and this made him shy. "I had nothing to defend myself with. I may be a mage, but I do not have the kind of magic that is used for offense. Nor defense." She shrugged, not really revealing her kind of magic. "And then when I turned around, the Zith was diving, and I collapsed in tension and fear. I was caught by a wing, and it flapped on me, delivering me to land flat on the ground. It was then when I turned my head, I saw that he caught Ipoeta's arm. And then the next thing I saw was the Benshiran weapon slicing through the air. What do you call it again?" Jilitse asked Jasa'lah, who was getting squirmy for being tagged as a hero. "A khopesh? A khopesh and he cut one wing and stabbed the Zith more than a few times."
Ipoeta looked terribly affected, but she had a steely resolve in her eyes, determined to get through the story. Jasa'lah then told his part of the tale, "I sound too much of a hero in your tale, but the truth is, without the light in your hand," and Jasa'lah reached for her right hand, rubbing it gently, "I would not have found the courage I needed to fight off the beast. So it's all thanks to you."
"How did it happen again?" Ipoeta asked, "Can you tell me... how it works?"
"Well if I must be honest," Jilitse laughed lightly, "Jasa'lah and I both cowered when the attack came. For some reason, even if I knew that the caravan was well-equipped, that we had men ready. I still... feared death." She talked slowly, but clearly, hoping to deliver her message, "Even if I'm Nuit, I still fear death. Yes, I do." She reaffirmed herself, "Perhaps in that moment of cowardness, I remembered Priskil. She... saved me from death once."
The statement elicited reaction among the crowd, some approved, and some became more curious of their Nuit companion. How exactly do you save an undead from death? "And when I remembered her, I think I found a little bit of hope. In that moment I think I shouted her name in my head, prayed even. And then I reached out for Jasa'lah," he placed her hand with Priskil's mark on his shoulder, "And I said, 'Help us!' That's what I said." She reenacted the manner in which she cried it out, and the others found it really forceful and strong. Even Aslode gave a big grin when he heard Jilitse, the Nuit had spunk in her.
"And good timing too, because a dog was running towards us." Jasa'lah smiled, "It was kind of powerful. I've never seen a gnosis from the Gods before. But even if it was just very brief, I... I felt like a man." He laughed heartily, and a few others joined. As the camp fire crackled, he continued, "There isn't really a good way to say that, but suddenly I just felt less... scared. I wouldn't say I felt really really courageous, but for a moment I felt bold, and became a hero for ten-chimes."
"For which I am really very grateful." Ipoeta declared.
(OOC: Feel free to erm, use Jasa'lah, talk to him when you get food, have conversations with the people, chat and gossip around the fire...)