#the worrisome would be adventuress

[hriobzagelthewanderer]

🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character.

...You do not know too much about her still yet, but it is clear you wish to help her regardless. First impressions are a lot, and while hers was that of a woman of much hope and kindness oft beset by cruel forces beyond her full power and understanding to fight, you can only hope your own was that of a lone island of calm and sanctuary in a world oft far more cruel and terrifying than any mere mortal can grasp until far too late.

The main issue from here is... what next? Offering her a place to be where those who have threatened her cannot touch her is much of the battle, yes, but will giving her sanctuary let her grow and recover as a person, or simply give her a shell to hide under indefinitely? You need a better picture of who she is deep down in order to answer that, and that means trying to get the understandably shy woman to open up without forcing the issue... unless she decides to approach you on her own terms, unlikely as it seems at the moment, but... is it so wrong to hope she will? That she sees you as a person like her, and not some larger-than-life figure, however kind, like those that drove her into your home? This is not a person you wish to shackle with perceived debts anymore than you wish to see others bring her harm.

"...I am glad my successor can recognize talent and potential so readily, but perhaps he should remember that pacing is also important. As much as he tells himself he cannot save everyone... it worries me so to see him try to do so all the same, whether he realizes it or not. Empathy is as much a curse as a blessing... Another lesson in the guise of a friend, this one is..."

"...I do not know if I should claim credit for this or not... but all the same, it wounds me deeply to hear of how cruel those fools loosed upon the waking world seem to be. Have the lines of the Defiant become naught but rampaging boogeymen and beasts of fear and terror? Perhaps it is for the best that this 'prison' I was thrust into only has myself to tie it to such perverted demons... I would prefer to remain incorruptible in my corruptions..."

[hriobzagelthewanderer]

[continued from here with @chronicparagon ]

The fae shook his head, before smiling at the clearly-still-somewhat-frazzled young woman with a subtle warmth and understanding that only some wizened sags could hope to match on the fly as he had.

"Listen, I am not against providing Sanctuary if asked by those in need, no debt owed. But if you truly wish to aid me in return, a more permanent position within my Court would carry the benefits of my protection and more - I would not ask you to simply limit yourself to menial chores unless those truly make you happy, but instead I wonder if there is some other calling you have always wanted but lacked the resources and support to follow - A healer, perhaps? Or what of 'Adventuring' as most call it? What would your dream job be, Harmony? I wish to help you Live, not just survive in safety - if you would bargain with me, that is."

[hriobzagelthewanderer]

Continued from here with @chronicparagon​ -

One moment, the creature, the monster in only the vaguest humanoid appearance, was rearing to claw at the downed adventurer.

Then, the sound of thunder washed over her, along with a combination of black blood and moist loam.

Were she to bear to look at her would-be killer, where once a goblin readied to butcher her, now stood the corpse of her attacker, locked into a standing position by the weapon that skewered it - a massive, ominously beautiful polearm of some kind - with what looked like a broad falchion of sorts covered in silvery runes affixed to a sturdy, blackened wooden shaft... a weapon easily taller, and heavier, than her.

“Vitun vihreät paskiaiset, kuulkaa! En ole lakannut katsomasta sinua, tiedäthän! Älä luule, etten huomannut! Tiedät harjoituksen, lähde, jos et halua minun tappavan sinua! Vitun kusipäät!”

An angry, booming baritone echoes from behind her, and the sound of panicked scrambling and guttural cries of anger and terror equal measure grow more distant, leaving only the faint rumbling of distant thunder... and encroaching footsteps that softly shake the earth.

Until a hand grabs the Glaive, pulling the dead goblin up off the ground with it, before the voice sighs again, muttering softly as the impossibly tall cloaked figure, nearly 8 feet tall, casually shakes off the corpse with his back to the woman.

“...Outoa kuitenkin, luulin, että he suosivat keihäitä edelleen. Luulen, että ne kirotut keihäänkärjet loppuivat lopulta. Vihdoinkin hyviä uutisia, taidan saada aikaiseksi...”

And then, as if only now noticing the adventurer on the ground, the figure turns - beneath the cloak is a fairly young, but not immature face... eyes the color of slate or stormclouds piercing her gaze and assessing her, scars covering a face caught between concern and curiosity, framed by a messy mane of dark red hair somewhere between the color of rust and blood.

“...first time with goblins, I take it, Miss...?”