[Molly's in the bazaar doing readings for the locals when the smoke appears and the chatter starts. At first it's pushed to the back of his mind and he finishes out his read, but by the time he starts shuffling for the next round, the witch arrives, barely feet from where Molly had set up his work.
His first thought is that this is normal and that he knows people who have attacked caravans before, and that's just life, but something about the woman's face with her Opal Jewel nearly broken reminds him of drag marks in the dirt and blood on the ground.
He shoves his cards into the pocket of his coat and marches towards the railing.] C'mon then. We might as well get involved.
[There's a tightness to his voice that betrays him. It's not his usual sing-song lilt, and it's clear this situation has made his bullshit slip a bit. This is no adventure. Not this time.
０２． ＴＨＥ ＣＡＲＡＶＡＮ
[The grisly sight brings a cringe to Molly's face, but that's it. He folds his coat up back on the railcar so he doesn't get it ripped or torn or bloodied and goes forth, dealing with survivors and mostly bringing them to better healers, because his own healing is questionable. He salvages goods when there's too many people clustered around the survivors, and he keeps a wide berth from the Hunters. He doesn't trust that lot one bit.
Eventually, he ends up pacing alongside the broken rail, growing increasingly more agitated, the longer this goes on. If he sees anyone in his periphery, he's likely to address them to find fuel for a horrible thought catching in his head.] They didn't take anything but people- is that right?
０３． ＴＨＥ ＷＡＳＴＥＬＡＮＤＳ
[There's no pause- the second Molly sees that pile of gore on the ground, he knows what he has to do, and he zeroes in on it above all else. He kneels down beside it, sweat sticking his linen jerkin to his skin with the air too hot even for a tiefling, and does what he's seen Fayura do, all while praying it's not the same. Pray this world doesn't have people of the Shepherds' ilk.
What he sees doesn't comfort him. The vision ends and he falls backwards onto his ass, shaking and angry.] Fuck.
[He doesn't want a history lesson. He has already made an executive decision on what sort of people these are and what he needs to do, because gods know they're not going to be able to follow this trail back. With purpose, he walks back to the railcar without another word, driven by a desperate, aching feeling in the pit of his stomach. It's a strange sight to see Molly this worked up about something, liberated from bullshit and pretense.]
０４． ＬＡＤＹ＇Ｓ ＦＡＶＯＲ （ｃｌｏｓｅｄ ｔｏ Ｆａｙｕｒａ）
[It's not an ideal time to hold council when Molly returns to Draega with the rest, but he doesn't really give a fuck. He's dirty and sweaty from the trail that, as expected, went cold, but he has questions and he wants them answered as soon as possible.
At least his influence allows him to speak to her with only a few side eyes. He's usually well put together.] My lady, sorry for just barging in announced and... Looking like absolute shite, but I needed to speak with you.
Mollymauk Tealeaf | OTA
[Molly's in the bazaar doing readings for the locals when the smoke appears and the chatter starts. At first it's pushed to the back of his mind and he finishes out his read, but by the time he starts shuffling for the next round, the witch arrives, barely feet from where Molly had set up his work.
His first thought is that this is normal and that he knows people who have attacked caravans before, and that's just life, but something about the woman's face with her Opal Jewel nearly broken reminds him of drag marks in the dirt and blood on the ground.
He shoves his cards into the pocket of his coat and marches towards the railing.] C'mon then. We might as well get involved.
[There's a tightness to his voice that betrays him. It's not his usual sing-song lilt, and it's clear this situation has made his bullshit slip a bit. This is no adventure. Not this time.
０２． ＴＨＥ ＣＡＲＡＶＡＮ
[The grisly sight brings a cringe to Molly's face, but that's it. He folds his coat up back on the railcar so he doesn't get it ripped or torn or bloodied and goes forth, dealing with survivors and mostly bringing them to better healers, because his own healing is questionable. He salvages goods when there's too many people clustered around the survivors, and he keeps a wide berth from the Hunters. He doesn't trust that lot one bit.
Eventually, he ends up pacing alongside the broken rail, growing increasingly more agitated, the longer this goes on. If he sees anyone in his periphery, he's likely to address them to find fuel for a horrible thought catching in his head.] They didn't take anything but people- is that right?
０３． ＴＨＥ ＷＡＳＴＥＬＡＮＤＳ
[There's no pause- the second Molly sees that pile of gore on the ground, he knows what he has to do, and he zeroes in on it above all else. He kneels down beside it, sweat sticking his linen jerkin to his skin with the air too hot even for a tiefling, and does what he's seen Fayura do, all while praying it's not the same. Pray this world doesn't have people of the Shepherds' ilk.
What he sees doesn't comfort him. The vision ends and he falls backwards onto his ass, shaking and angry.] Fuck.
[He doesn't want a history lesson. He has already made an executive decision on what sort of people these are and what he needs to do, because gods know they're not going to be able to follow this trail back. With purpose, he walks back to the railcar without another word, driven by a desperate, aching feeling in the pit of his stomach. It's a strange sight to see Molly this worked up about something, liberated from bullshit and pretense.]
０４． ＬＡＤＹ＇Ｓ ＦＡＶＯＲ （ｃｌｏｓｅｄ ｔｏ Ｆａｙｕｒａ）
[It's not an ideal time to hold council when Molly returns to Draega with the rest, but he doesn't really give a fuck. He's dirty and sweaty from the trail that, as expected, went cold, but he has questions and he wants them answered as soon as possible.
At least his influence allows him to speak to her with only a few side eyes. He's usually well put together.] My lady, sorry for just barging in announced and... Looking like absolute shite, but I needed to speak with you.