#Oighrig sounds like A Rick

[cleelczipsybane]

WLC 2.9: Call 'Em Vrow

L: As we traveled onward, we almost ran into a pair of Vrow huntresses. D: What's a Vrow? L: Cute elves from the Underdank. They're not as bad nowadays, but they were real bu- nasty back then.

A pair of violet-skinned elves sit in a high alcove, both young, barely out of school. One is dressed in traditional Vrow huntress attire: a black, leather leotard, thigh high boots, shoulder-length gloves, and a quiver of arrows strapped to her back. Dark grey belts hold the outfit up. Her velvet hair is in short ponytail.

L: Not that a Vrow would know what a pony is. D: I don't know what a pony is. J: It's a small horse. I could get you one. D: HHHHHUUUUU? OOOOOO?

The second (a sorceress, clearly) is adorned with what can be very generously described as dark grey armor. The chestplate is more comparable to a metal brassiere and it's matching bottom is a glorified, oversized belt. She's also wearing raised heel pumps. Under her armor, she wears an extremely thin tight dark silk garment with a spider web motif over most of her body, from finger and toe to neck. Thin metal rings on both ring fingers and around her neck hold it in place. Her long braided hair loops around her headpiece, which is akin to a circlet which matches her elaborate staff (also spider-themed).

J: We get it, they love spiders; it's their thing.

"Shooty and spelly in a ridge," says Ling, pointing up.

The adventuring trio hide behind a corner, they've spotted the Vrow first. How fortunate for them that the Vrow are distracted.

J: How did they not hear watergirl's clanking armor? L: Well, ya said to skip to the important bits. Sorry, that included us casting don't-get-caught spells, like Quiet March, and don't-fall-in-holes spells, like Darksight.

"How do we want to handle this?" asks Maraja, "Sneak up and attack? My range options aren't great."

"Hold on," says Ling, "We don't know if they're hostile."

"Thhey're Vrow, dear," says Kalyani, "Thhey will mosst ccertainly attack uss on ssight."

"No, they won-" Ling looks at the religious iconography of her party. "Well, yous, maybe. But look at them; those ladies aren't set to ambush anyone. F'ell, that spelly isn't even dressed for the cave; she's bound to twist an ankle." Ling motions for her companions to stay quiet as she casts a spell upon her bones.

The elves in the alcove sit oblivious to their observers. There's an awkward tension between them; Ling can taste it.

"Are you ready to talk about it?" asks the sorceress, rubbing the walking end of her staff along the drop from the alcove, "I don't know what else I can do."

"It's fine," says the huntress, refusing to make eye contact, "It's my fault, you didn't have to stay with me."

"I'm the one who twisted my ankle," says the sorceress, "So you missed a few shots; everyone has a bad day once in a while, Seònaid."

Seònaid rubs her head. "I'm going to get in so much trouble if I don't kill something." She shuts her eyes. "You know they've doubled the quotas, right? We might have to sell my father."

"Let me help," says the sorceress, "My family's well-off en-"

"I don't want your money, Oighrig," says Seònaid dejectedly, "I have to do this myself. I have to- I have to do something."

D: Couldn't you give her the giant worm you cooked. L: No, we had traveled several hours since then. If another critter hadn't eaten it then, another would've before the Vrow found it. J: The worms are also poisonous.

Oighrig struggles to speak. Ling can sense a desperate desire refusing to come out and casts another spell. Unseen to the elves, a magical bubble overtakes them.

"I love you." Oighrig clamps her hand over her mouth.

"I love you too," Seònaid chuckles and turns toward her, "Thank you. You're my best friend." She calmly loops her arms around and hugs Oighrig. "You al- We've always have each others back," she smiles, "And we always will."

Oighrig hesitantly puts her arms around Seònaid. "Y-y-yeah," she strains against an unseen force, "B-best friends."

Around the bend, Ling whispers to Kalyani, "Ya have anything to push these two? Hormones, music, shove her face in her boobs, something."

"Why- What?"

"I don't know," says Ling, "The mammals love boobs for some reason."

Oighrig suddenly kisses Seònaid, then stares into her eyes in shock.

"Wow," says Seònaid, "I was really down, but I'm so glad you're such a friend." She smiles widely.

"I. Want. You." Oighrig's eye twitches.

Seònaid nods. "To?"

J: How? L: I know. J: Vrow!? L: I know!

"Crikey," almost shouts Ling, "She's denser than b****y osmium. It'd be a piece of p**s for me to root a vejjo bunyip before this dropkick's jocks are off."

"Was that even elven?" asks Maraja.

Kalyani shrugs in equal bafflement. "While thhey're disstracted, we shhould leave."

"Right," says Ling, "I'm 'bout to snap."