| Heartwood Logs |
2000-02-25
| Heartwood |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
A Key Without A Lock
"...an' come sunset, we'll be 'avin' a side o' venison in addition to tha big pot o' stew tha's always simmerin'..."
Those were David the Lame's parting words upon the cool harvest afternoon. The courier's recommendation had proven both accurate and comfortable. David's small tavern certainly isn't the most grand in Cragside, but the Horse and Hart is very affordable and its master reasonable and friendly. He didn't even seem to mind the fact that Brisa collected a stormful of dark stares when she ventured upon the hard, earth packed streets. Outside, the market was bustling, caught between a merchanters' guildhall and their tall, open barn. The townswomen gathered and gossiped around the well, drawing up heavy buckets that their daughters carried back into the residential neighborhoods. Of the town guard, they seemed to be few and far between, though the jingle of mercenary armor tended to accompany many well-dressed men.
Of course, as Her light slowly fell across the High Tarn, the townsfolk slowly drifted back to their warm homes or perhaps a friendly tavern hearth, until the streets were almost empty.
...almost empty.
The shadows lengthen, the sky deep blue-black, and in the east the first stars begin to look down upon the Black Mountains. The shadows, they are long, slashing up between the alleys like little tongues of night. The four travelers are returning to the Horse and Hart, winding down the narrow street, when ahead the shadows move. Maybe one, maybe two, maybe three men are in an indistinct conversation. What movements can be seen are sharp, and two figures seem to tower over the third. A stray glance, and perhaps they realize they are not alone anymore. There is a single brutal motion, a blur at the end of the alley, and the smaller shadow doubles over, collapsing as his two companion wraiths flee...
...black shadows upon gray wall stone, each step echoing upon hard packed dirt and rough cobbled pavers, the lonely alley is bounded by building back sides. Mortar and stone, wattle and daub, perhaps a sturdy wooden door set into stout wood framing sculpts the tight streetscape, utilitarian and empty...
Brisa glances to her back, right hand falling on the pommel of her sword, so she knows both that her companions are all close, and what is behind them.
Brisa is a tall and sturdily built woman in her mid twenties, her movements calm and assured. Her eyes are almost startlingly blue in her tanned face, framed by sun-bleached, white blonde hair pulled back in a neat braid. One strong, small hand rests comfortably on the pommel of her well-cared-for sword. Her calf-length, dove-gray tunic is trimmed in black and silver trim, and is split below the sword belt in front and back for ease of riding. Her matching braccas are tucked into weather-beaten black leather riding boots.
Benedict takes in a sharp, soft breath as he sees the shadow-play ahead. "Oh, no..." he murmurs softly.
Roxanna was about to say something when the attack occurs. Instead, she glares at the retreating figures and begins to move up, hoping to save the victim if it's not already too late.
Trystan stares, "Oh my g-g-gosh!" He looks around at his companions.
Trystan is a man of average build; his features are strong, though his angles are lithe. His hazel eyes hold the brightness of what might be called idealism, if it did not seem to be tempered to a sharper edge in the forge of his travels. His voice is a light and lilting tenor, warming to hear. His tunic and surcoat show some wear, their hues meeting each other in a pleasant, understated way. His boots -- flexible, soft, and durable -- appear to be the part of his wardrobe to have seen the most wear. He carries a bundle with him that could only be a lute; nothing could disguise that shape. Another light pack is almost habitually with him, and if you look closely about him you might catch the glint of something that is most likely the hilt of a dagger poking from the folds of his clothing.
Brisa paces close behind Roxanna, still keeping a wary eye out. She nods at Benedict and Trystan, "Don't just stand there, lads... stay close." Trystan stays close... very close. Benedict nods, looking like he's more than willing to run forward and see what he can do for the fallen shadow... but also that he knows Brisa is a lot better able to clobber anything that might jump them.
Roxanna kneels down beside the fallen figure, quickly checking for damage.
Roxanna is a dark young woman, a little over five feet tall with olive skin and hair almost bluish-black in hue. Although she is not pretty in the conventional sense, she has a presence about her, confident, serene, and graceful. She wears the white on white of an Atteran, with a somewhat unusual belt of green and red. A purse and a small dagger hang from the belt, and brown leather boots can occasionally be seen as she strides along.
Brisa stands slightly to the side, so she can see both the fallen figure, and lines of approach. "Benedict... could you help the lady, please, if she needs it?"
A quick glance beyond, towards the dying light, confirms that the streets behind the four are clear. At Roxanna's scowl the two shadows decide to accept banishment, each choosing their own way to vanish down the cross street ahead. And there, at the crossways, a figure lies sprawled. Beneath him, a wash of crimson stains the ground, slowly growing. Whoever it is, he must have been well to do. His tunic has fine trim and is not worn. He lies curled in a ball, one arm out, his fist clutching something as if his life had once depended on it.
Trystan looks around, "If there's anythin' I can do..." He follows the figures with his eyes...
Benedict nods, and kneels beside the fallen figure, trying to check for what may have been done to the person, and what his meager skills can help with...
Brisa relaxes slightly as the two shadows flit off... then watches Roxanna and the wounded man somberly. Trystan shifts his weight on the balls of his feet, watching the shadows, letting the two ladies work.
Roxanna says, "Bozhe...this does not look good."
Brisa murmurs softly, "No. Can you help him?"
The stranger doesn't breath, he just lets out a single so faint rattling breath, and then nothing, nothing save the growing pool of blood in which he lies.
Trystan shudders, kneeling in a light defensive crouch, his eyes still watching the shadows, he whispers, "What happened?
Brisa sighs softly, "Sounds like it was a good thrust. I am thinking it would be well to be from here swiftly, so we are not blamed for the death, my friends."
Roxanna says, "Nothing I can do, I'm afraid...if we get him to a high priestess quickly, she might be able to bring him back, but it's beyond my power. The wound was almost instantly fatal."
Benedict sighs, and shakes his head. "Blast..."
Trystan registers that he hadn't thought of that... "...hmmm... probably a good idea." He sighs softly, shaking his head almost imperceptibly in the shadows, then stands again, his eyes still sweeping the shadows.
Brisa bends and gently slips her fingers into that tight-clenched fist, "I am also wondering what he chose to die for..." The fallen man's grasp no longer has any strength, nothing to resist Brisa's exploration. Until she holds in her hand what he once held.
A key.
A key perhaps one hand long, finely crafted of the blackest metal any had ever seen. Not just steel, but darksteel. In itself worth dear. Its shank and teeth are cast from the rare metal. The key's teeth aren't patterned like a normal key, but is a solid blade of black metal laced with fine lines of silver.
Benedict looks up. "We need to tell the town guard."
Trystan glances at the sparkle in the shadow of the man's hand, murmuring, "What is it?"
Brisa's eyes widen at the key... then her hand closes around it at Benedict's words, and she grins wryly at him, "Bozhemoi... I'd say you were the trusting sort... but... you are Hasturian, true. I'm still thinking we need to get out of here soon though." She nods towards the alley exit, "Let's move. We can talk to the guard at the Horse and Hart... and look more innocent too."
Trystan coughs softly, "We should move... yes."
Benedict bristles only a little. "Brisa, someone was killed. Unless we suspect the town guard of being behind this, they're the authorities here..."
Roxanna gives Benedict an odd look. "You'd trust the authorities?"
Brisa brushes a hand lightly across the dead man's face, shutting his eyes, and murmurs, "Rest with Herself..." then rises easily, "Ben, lad, was not a slight. Am not used to having someone with me that will be believed when they say I didn't do it, that's all." She grins lazily, "Settle your feathers, cockerel. Come, let's argue elsewhere, please." She strides for the exit, "Hurry, please?""
Benedict glances over to Roxanna. "All right, maybe it's not always the best route to go. But we don't have any reason to think they're corrupt here!" He sighs and stands, following Brisa. "All right, all right... but we need to move and tell the guard soon..."
Trystan takes paces with Brisa, turning and watching as he walks. Roxanna sighs, and takes the time to mutter a brief prayer before standing and following.
Brisa waits at the alley's mouth in the shadow, glancing both ways quickly as she waits for Roxanna. Trystan continues, between Brisa and the others, watching.
The Horse and Hart is but down the right-hand crossing and over Cragside's main street. When the front door is pushed open the sky above is mostly dark, while inside the tavern is warm, its heart crackling and lamps already lit.
The commons hall is a close and comfortable place, formed in softly aged gray wood planking and framed by a sturdy, heavy timber structure. In itself it is a simple room, with a scattering of tables and benches around its perimeter. Central, in a single loop of polished woodwork, is the bar itself encircling a friendly collection of beer kegs and sparkling crystal bottles. At the far end of the commons is a large stone fireplace, its hearth crackling and warmly ablaze. Set within is a large black iron kettle, within which simmers a thick stew, its aroma deliciously flavoring the tavern air. Beyond are a set of doors. One obviously leads to the tavern kitchen and perhaps the others to rooms for let.
David sips from a goblet as the four enter. He is in close conversation with a brown haired swordsman, and as they talk he sighs and shakes his head.
Brisa looks faintly relieved that the assassins didn't jump them on the way to the inn... she holds the door open, making sure all her companions are inside and safe.
Benedict says quietly as they enter, "Look, there's an Imperial temple in the area; if there's a Judge there, or even a Knight of Rames..." Trystan looks over to Benedict with slight curiosity registering on his face, but remains quiet.
The barkeep's pace is slow and definitely favoring his left-hand side. However, it is a familiar limp, one obviously gained many seasons ago and now just a fact of life. The barkeep himself is a short fellow, stocky, with a build more reminiscent of a Jvrillian trooper than a tavern master. His favorite tunic is a comfortably worn brown, its cuffs and skirts traced by a wide key pattern. When working, a long leather apron completes his outfit; otherwise a sturdy cloak may often be found wrapped about his shoulders.
Brisa nods to Benedict, "I'm thinking we can ask David to have the message sent, da? Just better to do it from here."
Benedict looks mildly relieved, and nods, "All right." Trystan looks quietly from Brisa to Benedict.
Roxanna says, "For that matter, ask his advice as to whether the Guards can be trusted."
Brisa points, "There he is, in fact." She grins amiably at Benedict's obvious relief, and adds to Roxanna, "D'ye need a hand with getting your habit clean, lady?"
Looking up, the tavernkeep looks both relieved and concerned as he hears his name mentioned. The swordsman behind him simply sets a decent sized leather purse upon the bar, taking a step away. David hesitates, and then speaks up. "Evenin'... is... is everything fine? I 'ope there be nothin' fell this eve, for ye to be needin' tha guards already?"
Brisa raises an eyebrow... that's a lot of drinking money in a purse that size... if that's what it's supposed to be for... Trystan hmms quietly, assessing the situation. He looks around at his companions, "Well, my friends... how about a nice hot cup of ale and a bit of bread? I'm famished."
Benedict looks between Brisa, Roxanna, and Trystan, arching an eyebrow. He knows how he would answer David's question. Brisa merely watches Benedict calmly... as far as she's concerned, it's his question. Trystan takes a deep breath, sighing softly. Roxanna shakes her head at Brisa, her robes aren't really much worse off now than all that travel already made them. Brisa nods to Rox, then glances curiously back at Benedict.
The swordsman nods and takes a step for the door. "Good. I'm sure you will have everything all settled for the morrow. You've always been a good friend to us, David." The stranger takes his leave, exiting the commons. David in turn closes his eyes for a long set of heartbeats. He then looks back. "An ale, heated? Aye... just a moment." He starts upon Trystan's order. He does, however, give Benedict a long look, following Brisa's gaze.
Brisa tilts her head, regarding David... then says gently, "Difficult commission to fulfill on the morrow, I take it?" Benedict sighs, and just shakes his head, then turns his attention to David.
David looks back and sighs. "Ye would nae be willing to get 'alf thine money back an' spend tha rest of thine stay above tha' stables? It's nae right... but... but I... they've been, it would do nae good for them to be annoyin'?"
Roxanna says, "Them?"
Benedict blinks. "What?"
Brisa folds her arms, and smiles at David, "Keep talking." Trystan fishies in his money-pouch, few coins clinking within. He listens, practiced at doing so while seemingly engrossed in something else. His furrowed brows belie his eavesdropping. Brisa adds, almost idly, "How much am I worth?"
Setting Trystan's ale upon the bar, David simply shakes his head. "Oh it's nae thee, nae at all. It's just... just that they come by once a season or so, often just before storm, to stock up. And they... they pay well and fill the tavern, since no one else will have them, because they's tha Wild Horde. You know, the big mercenary troop? Their coin, it helps me through the snows, when the passes are blocked an' folks stop shipping through Cragside for two months or so."
Brisa says, "Then what is it, David? Why should I sleep in a barn, when there's a nice warm dry inn here?"
Roxanna just gives Brisa a look. "Because they're regulars he can overcharge, Brisa. And it's his wintering money."
Brisa smiles bleakly at Roxanna, "Let him say it, Roxanna. Let him say exactly what he wants."
Trystan puts his coin on the counter, nodding his thanks to David, he appears to occupy himself with the ale. Roxanna shrugs, thinking David already had said just that... but she waits to see what his response will be. David looks uncomfortable, "Because... well... oh. Uhm, tha Lady is right. They pay a pretty penny an' donnae complain. Because no one else will take them. They are also... well... also real good friends to 'ave. It's nae right, I know. But tha's why I'm askin' and nae sayin'?"
Brisa says, "So... you're asking just me, so their pretty sensibilities aren't hurt? Or all of us?"
David blinks, "All of ye. Even tha' fair Lady. It's nae thee. Oh my, it's nae thee at all."
Brisa laughs! "Well, it would seem you've picked your friends then." She adds with elaborate courtesy, "Are we to leave tonight?"
Trystan snuffs, smiling and shaking his head. Benedict remains silent; he's learned at least enough to let Brisa deal with whatever social outrages. Still, he can't help but ask... "Why won't anyone else have them, and you will?"
David shakes his head back and forth, "Nae, if'n ye wish. The Horde, it's still on the trail, and will be here come just before tha dawn's light.
Trystan hmms, nodding slowly, his actor's face not registering much of anything. Brisa holds up a hand to Benedict, rubbing her fingers together in the gesture for coin, in answer to his question. Roxanna shakes her head at Brisa. "Nyeh, that's why he will...but doesn't explain why no one else will. I'm curious myself."
Benedict says, "Any innkeeper'll take coinage, I imagine, Brisa. I was just wondering why David had said nobody else will take them." He looks to David. Trystan sips quietly.
Brisa grins at the thought of asking why folks won't take a group called the 'Wild Horde'... but remains quiet. She pushes a coin of her own across the bar to David for her own drink, and settles down comfortably by the fire with it when he gives it to her.
Nodding in a generally eastern direction, David replies, "Well, it's because they don't like them. Them in their fine guildhall, and tha fact that tha bigger taverns in town all court Jvrillian coin. Kyle Anwynsson an' 'is Jvrillian guardsmen donnae like them at all. Old blood, bad blood, I mean, certainly thee would understand tha?"
Trystan hmms quietly... Benedict nods slowly, frowning. "Well, that you're willing to take them in when others won't is admirable, but, still... I take it they want to occupy the entire inn?
Roxanna says, "Do they fill the inn, or do they want to be alone?"
David blinks, "Aye... tha entire inn... and they usually fill up Three Trees an' Rockview Tavern outside tha gates too. Its nae like they are a small group. Its time for them to get their winter supplies after all."
Trystan rocks back and forth quietly, sipping his drink. He murmurs, "That's quite a group."
Benedict nods slowly. "Ah, I see. Good planning if they can fill up three inns, exactly."
David takes a breath and turns to Roxanna. "It's nae tha' they wouldn't mind sharin' tha inn... it's just tha' they pay well for tha rooms. I mean, if'n ye wished, I'd tell them tha' two rooms they cannae 'ave. Because ye were 'ear first. But... it'd be awful appreciated if'n ye could take tha lesser accommodations. I'd even give most of thine coin back. It's nae tha' it's bad..."
Trystan murmurs softly, "All I need is a patch of floor somewhere. That and a good pillow... you know, you can never sleep well without one."
Brisa drums her fingers thoughtfully on the table, thinking... then looks up at the others, "Well... I'll leave it up to the lot of you to decide if you want to move or no. Either is fine with me, and I'm thinking it doesn't matter where we are when they get drunk enough to want to cause a bit of mischief."
Roxanna says, "If they get that drunk better to be a little further away, I think. I'm surprised at you, Brisa...I thought you'd love a chance to spend more time with your horse..."
Trystan smiles softly, looking from Brisa to David, "M'lady, any place with a roof over it to me is a palace. I'm comfortable wherever you all are."
Benedict frowns slightly. He hadn't thought of that. He turns to David. "Since your inn is still standing, I assume that they don't cause too much damage, but how much mayhem do they cause?" A sudden thought strikes him, and he frowns at it. This couldn't have anything to do with what they saw tonight... could it...? Well, like his master always said, there's no such thing as coincidence...
Trystan tries to hide his chuckling in his mug at Roxanna's comment. Brisa snorts amusedly into her drink. "Trouble?" David shakes his head, "Oh... nae much trouble. Save, well nothing more than what anyone might expect, ye know. Considerin' tha friction an' bad blood."
Brisa rolls her eyes amusedly at that comment. David nods to Brisa, "See, of course ye would understand."
Benedict says, "Enlighten me, please? We're not exactly natives here..." Trystan hmms, wishing to be informed as well.
Brisa grins darkly at David, "Would be worth the barn to see some Jvrillians get whacked up-side their pointy little heads, is true."
Roxanna says, "Not if we're on the outnumbered side."
David blinks, shaking his head. "Well, of course tha Jvrillians an' tha Horde donnae get along. What with their history, their commander, an' bein' freelance an' nae a Jvrillian temple an' all. Of course fine Captain Kyle Anwynsson donnae like gettin' beat time an' again." He pauses and nods, "Oh, stay their trail an' I suspect ye may get tha' chance. But... but just not beneath my roof?"
Benedict turns slightly to talk quietly to Roxanna and Trystan, stepping away a little so that David, talking to Brisa, cannot hear. "I have a feeling," he whispers softly, "-that this is related to what we saw tonight."
Brisa grins at Benedict, then says to David, "What is the Wild Horde's history then? Who's their commander? How's the good captain getting beaten?"
Trystan listens quietly, unobtrusively, watching from the middle-distance, taking it aaaaall in. David looks back and blinks, "But of course ye've 'eard of Captain Koromov an' Barris Iron'and. 'Ow could someone like ye nae 'ave? I mean... donnae ye know, tha' song tha minstrels sing, tha Faerie Wars... it's about them!"
Brisa looks interested, "Tell the story, please?"
Roxanna whispers back to Trystan, "Did you see any details of the attackers? You think it was the Jvrillians who attacked?"
Trystan nodnods... "They didn't look like they were wearing armor... their movements were too free." He mulls over the warm ale, "I think one of them was wearing some kind of pendant, something on a chain around his neck." Benedict blinks, wondering to himself how Trystan could catch that small a detail!
David leans forward upon the bar, "Well, when it's late an' the Horde, its folks about tha fire be sittin', I 'ear them talk. It was up on Corliss Way, in tha shadow of tha Forest of Roth, when a Fair One's Prince swept across, leaving naught but empty villages in 'is wake. Then they hit tha 'Orde, they did. An' it was bloody, but Koromov an' Iron'and wouldn't break. Would ye?"
Brisa looks up sharply, her eyes suddenly bright, and her voice isn't idle any longer as she says softly, "Go on..."
Benedict glances over. More news of the Fae? Oh, dear... Trystan shrugs, dipping into his ale, coming up with his bardic smile directly at Benedict. "'S all part of the job." Then he looks over, not trying to hide his listening, intent on what David has to say.
David looks back quiet. "That's 'ow come most of tha 'Orde carry two sets of o' armor. One set steel... tha other black iron. Or so they say."
Brisa murmurs thoughtfully, "Darksteel? That stops the fey?"
David shakes his head. "Nae, nae darksteel... tha Fair Ones, they said, those tha' lived, said they could make darksteel betray its owner. Black iron, pig iron, cold iron. What blacksmiths use."
Brisa says, "How... strange... betray how, please?"
Benedict perks his ears now, at the mention of darksteel. The fey, darksteel, the Wild Horde... all of this should come together, at some point... Trystan listens intently to the story. Roxanna says, "Most curious..."
David says, "Darksteel, it's what tha high churches use, aye? -because it's easily magicked, it accepts powerful magics. But tha Fair Ones, they live and breathe magic, so darksteel, it's theirs for tha asking. They can magic a darksteel sword to attack its wielder or never hit its target..."
Benedict suddenly thinks that holding on to that darksteel key might not be the best thing to be doing right about now. Trystan mulls... David says, "But that's just what I over'eard while they were talkin' around tha 'arth."
Brisa frowns and shakes her head, "Still doesn't explain how the Jvrillian captain was beaten?"
David smiles quietly, "Well, tha's completely different. It's just tha' when Captain Anwysson and thine Captain Koromov do tangle, and then Sir Kenyonsson comes in to break up tha fight, more of Amwysson's troops end up at Lady Maris' hospice than tha 'Orde's."
Benedict frowns. That sounds too likely. "Ah... do they do that a lot?"
David shrugs, "What do ye expect?
Benedict says, "I guess so... What, ah, happens when that happens? What do the town guard do?"
Brisa grins at Benedict, "Travel in groups."
David laughs and smiles, "Whatever Sir Kenyonsson tells 'em to do."
Benedict ignores the laughter. "So... they just accept it?"
Trystan nods quietly, finishing the last of his ale. Brisa grins at a sudden thought, her eyes bright, but remains quiet so Benedict can get an answer to his question. David says, "Well, since 'alf tha guard are Jvrillian, it does take tha Temple to break it up. But fights tha' big... tha take more than one Knight to settle, they be rare."
Roxanna says, "Hmmm."
Benedict sets his jaw a little, and nods. "I see. Thank you, David." Trystan nods his thanks as well, setting the empty mug on the counter.
Brisa nods, then looks at her traveling companions, "So... barn or inn?"
Roxanna says, "I'd like to spend tonight in a proper bed. We can shift in the morning." Benedict nods slowly, his brow furrowed.
Trystan purrs softly, "Wherever the rest would feel most comfortable.
Brisa says, "Fine and well, then. Sp'coy'nonotchya, lady, lads." She finishes her drink, sets the mug on the counter, and nods to David, "We'll move in the morning then, da?"
David says, "In tha morning, that would be fine. I'm sure tha ruckus will wake ye."
Benedict waits until the party is upstairs, just before they split into their rooms, before murmuring. "All right, maybe telling the town guard isn't the best of ideas..."
Roxanna says, "Not if they're biased about things, no."
Brisa smiles at Benedict, "Well, you could still ask David to have someone run with a message for you tonight? He must know someone to tell?"
Benedict shakes his head. "No, it should be the Temple, and I should go tell them."
Roxanna says, "In the morning, I think. No one will be able to deal with it tonight, and we can show them that key at the same time."
Brisa gets a suddenly quiet look, "And... lock in well tonight, please, da? One man has died tonight already... I don't want it to be any of us next."
Trystan nods slowly... "I'm not sure if... Do you think he was killed because of the key?" He shrugs, "Just a thought."
Benedict clenches his hands. "But... the body..."
Brisa says, "Possibly, Trys. The body, Benedict, has already been rifled by the murderers, I'm sure?"
Trystan shakes his head, "I don't think they had time. We surprised them, from the look of it?"
Brisa smiles at Trystan, "I'm sure they went back after we left... and if the key was what they wanted, they know it was gone, and it must have been us."
Trystan nods softly. Roxanna says, "We scared 'em off. By now they'll have come back and not found the key."
Trystan says, "So who's got it?"
Benedict says, "I don't care if it's been rifled!" He keeps his voice down however. "Well, yes, I do, from a sort of Judge-like standpoint... but the body is just lying there." Trystan looks to Benedict, not really getting his worry.
Trystan rubs his chin, "You suppose it's safe to sleep separated? Two to a room?
Roxanna says, "As long as they're adjacent rooms."
Brisa says gently to Benedict, "We could not take it with us, Benedict... that would have been wrong, no?"
Benedict shakes his head. "I'm trying to say, we need to tell someone, otherwise his body is lying there without proper rites. I mean... whomever it was, was killed in a gutter and died there and is still there without even the comfort of anyone knowing he's dead... or worse, really. We know."
Trystan hmms, smiling to the swordswoman, "Anyone called for bunking with you yet?
Brisa gives Trystan a quiet grin, "Thank you for the offer, but unless Roxanna asks me to leave I'll be sharing a room with her."
Roxanna says, "I was going to say. That would leave me bunking with Benedict, and I'm afraid the poor boy would die of embarrassment."
Brisa gives an odd cough-choke behind one hand! then manages to nod solemnly at Roxanna's words... although her eyes are dancing!
Trystan chuckles warmly to Roxanna, "I'd hate to have that happen.
Roxanna nods seriously to Benedict, sharing his concern. "I did an abbreviated version of the rites over the body, Benedict. He'll keep until dawn. Another reason to get up early, da?"
Brisa thinks for a bit... then nods at Roxanna's words. "Benedict, we'll try to take care of it then. Is that all right?"
Benedict blinks to Roxanna, and sighs softly, nodding. "That'll be fine. Thank you, Roxanna. Maybe his soul will... well, if not find rest now, at least take a bit of a nap until he's properly interred."
Trystan looks to Benedict, "He will be found in the morning. If we were not there what would have happened?" He shrugs softly, "Things happen, and if we involve ourselves too much, things might happen to you that you might not wish, yes... no? We're already looked upon with suspicion; to attract more would not be wise." Brisa nods quietly to Trystan as well. Trystan says, "Even were we to slide a note to be found by the guard, we would still be under suspicion."
Brisa says, "Come, let's to bed. Tomorrow will be busy, I think. Don't forget to wedge your chair under your door latch, all right, lads?"
Trystan says, "People are generally un-trusting of that which they do not know. They do not know us. We could be blamed for what we did not commit, and who would believe us if we were to try to prove our innocence."
Brisa eyes Trystan thoughtfully, smiling faintly, "Exactly."
Benedict looks to Trystan, fretting. "Someone died tonight, minstrel. A spirit was ripped by violence from life, like it or not, and we were there in his last moments, like it or not, and as far as we know we're the only ones who know about his death, like it or not. I'm not so much worried about coming under suspicion. I am concerned about respect for and the treatment of the departed. A dead body isn't just a bag of dried blood and bones!"
Roxanna says, "Better to talk to our respective Temples in the morning, Benedict. They will believe us." Trystan bows slightly, with a smile of soft admiration to the women. Roxanna says, "And mayhaps your people will know what the heck that key is."
Benedict looks to Roxanna, and nods, sighing. "True. Actually... if I may, I would like to study the key a little tonight. I don't know what knowledge Hastur'll grant me about it -- if it's anything to do with the Fey, I suspect not nearly as much as we would like. But it can't hurt.
Trystan says to Benedict, "I admire your dedication and your honor... I really do." He holds his hand to his heart, "But I do firmly believe that we must act within the conjunction of here..." he moves his hand to his temple, "-and here."
Roxanna nods. "His grace be with you, then. Good luck!"
Benedict says, "And good night to you, Roxanna, Brisa."
Roxanna nods. "Goodnight."
Brisa nods to Roxanna, then heads into their room. She waits until everyone's in their rooms before closing the door, and she's careful to wedge the small chair under the door latch before they blow out the light. Roxanna follows Brisa into their room.
Trystan bows warmly, "A... wonderful night, my ladies..." Turning to Benedict smiling brightly, "Shall we?"
Benedict looks to Trystan and sighs, "I'm trying, Trystan, I am, but there's a third factor for me. And that's 'up there.'" He gestures up to the heavens. "Yes... it's a late night, and it'll be an early morning..."
Trystan nods softly, "I understand, Benedict, I truly do. But I do think also that the heavens will understand. Do you wish to pray for the dead man's soul before sleeping? It might ease your heart."
Benedict says, "If you wish, Trystan. I'll be doing that myself. Though only that man's deity knows whom he worshipped."
Trystan chuckles softly, "I think the gods talk amongst themselves."
Benedict says, "Do they? Sometimes I honestly wonder..."
Trystan shrugs, heading into the room, "It'd be awfully quiet... um... 'up there' if they didn't."
Brisa is smiling at Trystan's words as she closes the room door.
With doors barred shut by simple wooden chairs, the hush of a sleeping town is heavy upon the night. It had already been a long night, the time past in the oblivion of sleep. And for the night to be disturbed, it would be once more. By a soft knocking, a slow and patient rap rap rap upon Trystan and Benedict's door.
Trystan fum-mumbles, his eyes peering through the darkness, "Yes? Who is it?" He reaches for his traveling supplies, trying not to knock over the candle by his bedside, hurriedly striking flint to flame. Benedict's eyes snap open and he sits up quickly, frowning. He slips off the bed, wary, but not moving to the door just yet.
Trystan mumbles under his breath, "I hate mornings..." More loudly, "just a minute." He whispers to Benedict as the candle flames to life, "You awake? Get your sword, light more candles. Iif you've got that thing, hide it." He waits for Benedict to get ready.
Benedict says dryly and softly in the dark, "I'm an Eye of Hastur. What sword?" He does work on lighting another candle.
Trystan fumbles and thumps loudly, pretending to be putting on pants he never got out of. "Darn pants... oof!" He whispers, "Whatever... get a pillow ready... something."
There is a hoarse whisper from beyond the door, answering Trystan's call. "Tomorrow, at the Odd Collectables shop. Five hundred crown for each, in exchange for a missing key..."
And then, the sound of footsteps retreating.
Trystan straightens from his spread-foot stance, saying firmly but still very quietly, "Yeah... you'd better walk away..."
Benedict blinks at the door. "Oh, dear..."
Trystan looks at Benedict, "What do you mean you haven't got a sword." He sits heavily on the pallet, "Sheesh," then taptaps on the wall that joins the rooms… then taptaps a bit harder...
Benedict looks at Trystan. "I don't have a sword. I'm a priest, Trystan, hacking and slashing isn't what I do."
Trystan folds his arms across his chest in mock pouting... "Not even as a hobby?
Benedict says, "Especially not as a hobby." He raps on the wall a little harder. "I wonder if they heard that..."
Brisa taps lightly on the wall so Trys doesn't worry... she quietly slips the chair out from under the latch, trying not to wake Roxanna, and opens the door, standing back so she can't get whacked by any hypothetical somebodies waiting outside. Then she steps out quietly and swiftly, glancing down the hall both ways.
Roxanna is already sitting up and getting dressed... you think an Alley Rat would sleep through that?
Trystan does the same with his chair, creaking the door open to peer into the darkness. The corridor is empty, but Brisa does hear the sound of the door to the commons hall closing. Brisa smiles at Rox, then nods towards the opening door of the guys' room, "You all right?"
Trystan nodnods, "Yeah. you heard that?
Benedict nods, "We're fine, if a bit sleepy at being woken up so oddly."
Brisa says, "Vaguely." She tilts her head, listening, "Whoever it is, is off in the common room, at least."
Roxanna peers out from behind Brisa. "How could you sleep through that? I swear they must have taken their stealth training from a horse."
Trystan says, "...or past it... they said something about a lot of money a piece for a key."
Brisa grins at Roxanna, then nods to Trystan. Trystan motions for Brisa and Roxanna to come into their room with them. Brisa glances at Roxanna, "You up for talking with the guys for a bit?"
Roxanna scowls. "That confirms that, then." She slips into the boys' room. Brisa nods and follows her... after carefully closing and locking their door first.
Trystan sits on the floor, gesturing to his pallet. Brisa says, "Thank you, Trys." She sits, leaving plenty of room for Roxanna, "Well... I for one will be glad to see the key handed over to the authorities, to be returned to whomever it belongs to."
Trystan nods softly to Brisa. "So... it doesn't seem like they know we've got anything. Anyone being that cryptic... someone who didn't know about it would be just pretty confused."
Benedict says, "I don't think this was the authorities..."
Brisa says, "Er... wait, Trys. Are you suggesting our visitor might not know we might have the key? I'd have to say he did, myself?"
Trystan scritches his head, "What really confuses me is... if it is worth a lot of money, why they didn't just break in and try to overpower us... I think that if it is connected with the..." he swallows... dry mouth, "-Horde... or something that when they do get here... and if they find out we even might be connected with it... our lives might flee us just as quickly as that one gentleman's." He taps his cheek... "I think he probably had a good hunch we did... but... it's just a guess that he might not be entirely sure that we have it."
Brisa says, "It's valuable, Trystan. Breaking in would doubtless cause a ruckus. I'm guessing they want to get the key quietly... like they almost did from that poor young man."
Trystan nodnods... "I'm just trying to balance how valuable it is to them."
Benedict says, "But they've shown themselves willing to kill... why not kill us? Unless... this is another party who wants the key."
Brisa says, "And if they're not sure which of you had it, or where you might have hidden it... it would be foolish to irritate you, no?"
Roxanna says, "Still... odd."
Benedict says, "This is true, Brisa..."
Trystan nodnods, "Good point..."
Brisa says, "So... in the morning, first thing, we head out together for your Temple, Benedict, da? Is that a plan?"
Trystan nodnods, "Sounds good to me..."
Benedict nods, "That sounds like a good idea. They'll be able to take care of the dead man. I'm afraid... I've not gotten any inspiration as to what the key is. They might have better luck."
Brisa says, "All right then... we should get as much sleep as we can 'til the morning, da?"
Trystan nodnods chuckles, "Sleep? Oh yes... I forgot..." Brisa grins dryly at Trystan.
Roxanna says, "Helpful thing, sleep."
Brisa nods, "Okay then... don't forget to brace the door again, all right?" She glances at Roxanna, "Shall we?"
Benedict nods, stretching slightly. Trystan holds up his hand, not really jittery but... still... "Anyone else kinda weirded out?"
Brisa says, "Da."
Benedict nods slowly, letting out a breath. "Oh, yes."
Trystan stretches, "Well... rest well, my friends..."
Benedict nods, "Good night..."
Brisa paces out quietly, cautiously glancing both ways before she enters the hallway again.
Trystan looks around the room, "Keep an ear open... 'cause if there's any more weirdness... I feel like I might just burst right through that wall." He purrs softly, "And knock if you need us too, ok... mi'lady swordswoman?" He chuckles, holding up his sheathed dagger, "We're small but feisty."
Brisa grins over her shoulder at Trystan, "Trust me... you'll hear me loud and clear if there's any problem!" Roxanna follows Brisa out, letting her check out the room before she re-enters. Trystan puts his dagger back under his pillow.
Forgotten perhaps, but the remainder of the night passes without a rap or another false awakening. But when morning comes it is not with a whisper or the call of a rooster. Just as Her light peeks above the mountain ramparts comes the noise. Heavy footsteps, many of them. The peculiar shush of metal upon metal as armored plates slide over each other, and the dull jingle of mail. The snatches of conversation in many different accents. "Cor, lad, I can't remember the last time I slept on a real mattress..." "...did you see, someone here has excellent taste..." "Fine, but how come I always get the heavy end of the tack locker..." "Of course those are the Captain's. Who else would be wearing the like. Third door on the left, right there..."
Brisa sighs and smiles, awakening at the heavy treadings... she just gets quietly up. No one's going to be able to sleep through that. Roxanna is already collecting her stuff. "Ah well...one night in a real bed, with a bath first..."
Brisa grins at Roxanna, "We've been traveling too long, eh?"
Roxanna says, "You could say that, yes. More to the point, most of those inns were dreary little wretched things."
Brisa grins at Roxanna, "Well... better than damp peat moss, da?"
Benedict blinks his eyes open, and sighs. This must be the Wild Horde, then. He gets up, and starts securing his gear. Trystan rolls out of bed, making a show of falling onto the floor... "-ow."
Brisa shoulders her baggage, and taps the guys' door with a boot toe, "Eh, you okay in there?"
Trystan dusts himself off and says, "Yep... just not used to sleeping this high off the ground." Brisa laughs at Trystan's words. Trystan shouts through the wall, "We planning on washing up before leaving? Or are we planning on heading for Benedict's place?"
Benedict yawns a little, but already has his gear packed. "Good morning, Brisa..." he calls to her.
Roxanna says, "I did that last night. Didn't you?"
A tall sworder sidles down the corridor, a saddle slung over his shoulder. He ooshes past Brisa, moving further down the hall. "Excuse me, Dama..."
Brisa says, "Are you nuts?" She laughs, "Think I want to head out anywhere on an empty stomach?" She steps politely out of the way, "Gospodin."
Brisa blinks at a sudden thought, and wonderingly watches the sworder walking away from her down the hallway. Roxanna grins at Brisa. "See? They're nice fellows after all."
Brisa laughs, "Aren't we all, in the morning when our heads still ache?"
Roxanna says, "Hah. Some people just get more obnoxious in that condition." Brisa grins wickedly, but remains politely silent!
Trystan chuckles, "Fine..."
Brisa says, "C'mon, lads, time's a'wasting and breakfast is cooling!" She heads for the stairs, following Roxanna when she goes... she's hungry and the so-called Wild Horde has so far been quite polite! Benedict lets out a breath, and shoulders his bedroll, following Brisa down the stairs. The inn is still standing. That, at least, is a good sign.
Three more swordsmen work their way back down, talking amongst themselves. "The horses put away?" "Sure'n enough. Dave knows how many critters we have." "I know, but ye would 'ave thought 'e'd 'ave warned 'is laddie there. Somethin' spooked 'im bad." "Well, as long as 'e's spooked into givin' tha beasts a good bit o' oats, tha's fine by me." They fall into single file as they pass this small group. Most are dressed in greens and browns, and all have heavy boots with spurs.
Brisa nods politely if any of them look at her, standing aside for them while she waits for her group... she eyes them curiously after they've passed, looking for any identifying heraldic marks. Trystan chuckles over the din, "Fine... coming!" He pushes quietly out into the hall after donning his belongings.
Brisa heads for the barn first, both to check up on Khari and to dump her luggage... she just happens to glance around a lot at the same time at the heaps of tack. Roxanna stashes her bedroll in the stable loft and heads back in to the common room with her balalaika.
Trystan makes his way to the common areas, his air that of almost being too polite. He keeps the hair on the back of his neck nicely not standing on end.
The commons hall itself is a bustle of activity. It is filled to the brim, a milling hustle of breakfast and ale. David is awake, once again in close conversation with the brown haired sworder from the night before. All sorts of folks fill the small room. A tall mercenary whose quarter paneled tunic is trimmed in black, a short dynamo of a soldier who seems to be directing this madness. Closeted back in a corner a pretty farmgirl watches all with bright eyes, while three more Horde soldiers stand in a tight knot, looking to the doorway with a worried glance, "I thought it was your turn to look after her..."
Benedict blinks, looking around. "Looks like David really does get a full house with them..."
Trystan nodnods to his companions, "Let's just eat and get out of here... I don't like crowds..."
Benedict nods, worriedly. "That might not be a bad idea. We definitely don't want to get in the way!"
Roxanna says, "A minstrel who doesn't like crowds? What's the world coming too?"
Trystan purrs a smile to Roxanna... "There's a wonderful story behind it... I'll tell it to you someday."
David looks up and waves to the three. "Mornin', there's a whole spread on tha back table. Tha Horde is payin', aye?"
Benedict blinks, and grins a little. And he was worried about the Hordesmen? He looks around, wondering how Brisa, as a swordswoman, is getting along with the Hordesmen, then notices she hasn't returned from the stable yet. "I wonder where she is..."
Meanwhile, Brisa finds an equally crowded stable. The horses are all handsome or pretty, sturdy and strong. Destriers dominate the new arrivals, but a few are far more unique. A couple remind Brisa of the courier's steed, and all are emblazoned with a large gray starburst on their necks. Throughout them all the stable hand works nervously. Then he sees Brisa and his eyes go wide, scared, almost terrified. He then takes a step forward, towards her, so very tentative.
Brisa smiles inquiringly at the stable boy, "What is wrong?"
The stable boy looks up and swallows. "A... a message. I was told a message for the lady with a sword. They told me. It's not my message, they made me promise to tell you. They had knives."
Brisa raises an eyebrow, "What was it?" She's quite startled there's a message for the lady with a sword already -- since only one of the Horde saw her last night, for only fleeting moments, in a dim and fire-lit inn! She blinks, "Knives? You mean swords? The Hordesmen? Or someone else?"
The stable hand takes a deep breath, his eyes closing. "They said, they said tell the swordbitch and her friends we don't care how she got it. Tomorrow, that's today, at the middle of the night, return the key to the crossing where it was found... or we keep the girl." The stable hand shakes his head. "No. Before. The captain's men would never hurt us. These were different. Bad men."
Brisa stares puzzledly at the boy... then drops her stuff and whirls, running back to the inn. She bursts through the door -- is Roxanna still there?
Roxanna raises an eyebrow at Brisa. "What's the hurry?" Benedict blinks. Oh, there she is...
Brisa's breath gusts out of her in relief... she grins, although the expression doesn't reach her eyes, "Um... nothing... be right back..." She turns, then turns back suddenly, "Rox! don't go anywhere alone today, okay?" She turns and trots hastily back to the barn, dodging around anyone in the way.
One of the three swordsmen at the door look up as Brisa storms into the room. "There she is... wait that's not her. Oh gods and goddesses, the Captain is going to kill us. We lost the Fireball." They tumble out the door into the street.
Benedict blinks. "I wonder what that's all about...?" Trystan quiets up, watching.
Roxanna says, "I think we'd better find out. They've got a missing female, and Brisa thought I might have gone missing... c'mon, you two." She follows Brisa out, assuming that Trystan and Benedict will follow." Benedict blinks, and nods, trailing after Roxanna, breakfast forgotten. Trystan follows as well...
Brisa will pick up her stuff in the barn, apologize to the poor boy if she scared him, and sit down with him, "Okay now... tell me again, please? Everything you can remember, all right?"
The stable boy looks up and swallows. "I don't know. I don't know who she is. They didn't tell me. They just woke me up. It must have been real late, because the clouds had already rolled in and I couldn't see the stars no more. They didn't make a sound and they had a knife to me, I felt it cut. A hand was over my eyes and mouth and I couldn't hardly breath. They said they'd kill me too, if'n I didn't tell ye."
Brisa nods, her voice gentle, "All right... it's okay, they won't kill you, you told me. Now... did you see them at all? Can you repeat again everything they said, please?"
The stable hand looks up. "They said, tell the swordbitch that they don't care how you got it, but to return it to the crossing by the middle of today's night, or they will keep the girl." Trystan kneels quietly, letting himself seem as approachable as a bard can be.
Brisa nods again, "That's all they said? Nothing else?"
The lad cringes. "If I had looked, they would have cut me. And that if I didn't tell you, they'd come back tonight and kill me too."
Brisa says, "It's all right, you needn't feel bad for not looking, lad... and if you're worried we can ask David to house you elsewhere tonight. Would that make you feel better?"
Roxanna enters in time to hear the tail end. "Tell you what?"
The lad shakes his head. "No. I'll just sleep next to the Captain's horse tonight."
Brisa looks up at Roxanna, her demeanor grim, "I got a message... to return it to the crossing by the middle of today's night, or they'll keep the girl. I don't know what girl though."
Benedict blinks. "I think we do." Trystan blinks to Benedict.
Brisa gives Benedict an inquiring glance, "Who?"
Benedict looks to Roxanna. "That 'Fireball' the Hordesmen mentioned."
Roxanna says, "Three of the Horders just tore out of here, looking for 'Fireball'... they though you were her for a second..." Benedict sighs. His Master's adage about 'there's no such thing as a coincidence' is getting far too much of a workout lately. Roxanna says, "Could be worse... I think we've got allies, all of a sudden."
Brisa blinks... then gets a funny grin on her face, "Fireball?! A woman called Fireball?! There... couldn't be two...!"
Benedict looks to Brisa. Yep, no such thing as coincidence. "Yes, Fireball... You know someone named that?"
Brisa laughs! "Oh stars! I've never met her, but if it is her, we're in for quite a ride!"
Trystan murmurs, "'quite a ride'?"
Brisa laughs! "She's um... well, she has an unerring nose for trouble!" She grins down at the stable boy, "So, where do the Wild Horde hail from, d'you know? Allaine, or Kierkegaard?" She frowns suddenly, "Wait, it couldn't be Fireball they grabbed... she's a bit older than I am. So... who's the girl then?"
Looking up, the boy smiles, "Oh! They's from all over. They take all the misfits that the Jvrillians don't want no more."
Benedict blinks. She's laughing. Brisa's laughing. We get involved in the murder of someone, apparently for a darksteel key. We get bumped out of our rooms by a mass of horsemen. Someone is offering us lots of money to give them the key, and someone else is threatening bodily harm on someone Brisa knows of, if we don't give them the key. She tells us we're going to have a lot more trouble coming our way. And she's laughing. He sighs again. Knowledgable Hastur, wise in all things, just and fair, I your most humble of servants ask... what did I do?
Brisa grins at the boy, "Ah... sounds like good folks then. You take care... you do well by the horses, da?" She rises, dusting off bits of hay, "Well! Shall we have breakfast, and compare notes with the Wild Horde?"
Roxanna nods, a bit more grimly. "We'd better."
Brisa strides off for the inn, humming quietly under her breath... looks like there may well be a good fight ahead -- the day's looking up! She strides cheerfully back into the inn, still humming happily to herself. She looks around... it smells FAR too wonderful in here to not have breakfast somewhere nearby!
By the time the four returned to the commons, it is a mite quieter, just a mite. The stocky and short mercenary has temporarily given up his commands to tear roughly into a flank of venison and a tall mug of deep amber beer. A handful are still moving gear into the tavern, mostly saddles and other tack. The farmgirl still claims her solitary table while the tall mercenary stands at the door, looking down the street.
Brisa eyes the farmgirl curiously, wondering who she is... she steps politely around the tall mercenary, and looks around for some breakfast. She hmms to herself... then again, might as well alert the Wild Horde to the potential problem... she paces over to the table the short mercenary is sitting at. "Good morning, gospodin. Are you in charge here?"
The tall mercenary ducks his head, watching as Brisa passes by. Outside, he leans forward, as a small altercation down the street attracts his attention for a moment. Inside, for Brisa's convenience, a set of benches have been dragged together and a large array of breads, fruit, cheese, and little meat pies have been set out. It appears the Horde has not yet finished all of David's food at least. Brisa surreptitiously snags a meat pie as she passes.
The short mercenary turns, looking up. "So they... oh. Another one. Yes I am, but now I'm eating. So it's Rafe's watch. He's the tall buck by the door. But knowing you, you're probably looking for the Captain, crowns will get you stars."
Grim. Grim in stance and bearing. He is far from tall, this one, but he is rugged built, with the bearing of a giant slayer. A sworder, definitely, with a brigandine hauberk worn over tunics cream and brown, the jingle of steel fittings a constant accompaniment with each step. Dark hair and dark eyes are a fitting match to his martial physique, the knotted muscles of his arms and fists as if carved from coldest iron. At his side hangs a long black blade, as comfortable as an old, old friend.
Outside there is a muffled but very disgruntled call, "But it was only a little Jvrillian!"
Brisa thinks for a bit, then nods, "I won't interrupt your breakfast then. Thanks." She nods, and heads for Rafe-by-the-door, taking a few voracious bites out of her meat pie as she does so. "Excuse me, but I hear you're missing a female, da?" She coughs, her eyes dancing, at the call from outside.
Raphael looks out the door without even turning to Brisa, "Aye, Dama. But I think they just found her. Hopefully before the little Jvrillian begat bigger Jvrillians..."
He walks with an easy lope, and his frame is tall and sturdy. His garb is practical, dark green quarter paneled tunics and a rich brown surcoat. Soft tan key patterns race about his cuff and collars, and border his skirts, an elegant accent. His face is certainly pleasant to look at, sharp cut lines softened by dark brown eyes which look out from beneath thick brown hair. While a long black sword hangs from his belt, he seems more comfortable with the polished guitar he also carries.
Brisa nods, her eyes thoughtful, "Ah... then I will not bother you..." She turns away, looking towards Roxanna, a puzzled expression on her face as she chews on her meat pie. Roxanna follows a little behind Brisa, having procured an apple, a chunk of cheese, and some bread.
Raphael continues, without a beat. "...and you are a long way from home. Dawnview?"
"Mmm?" Brisa turns back, "Originally Highgaard, actually. And yourself? Where does the Wild Horde hail from originally?"
Raphael turns and leans against the door frame. "Actually from Trundle-on-the-Hill."
Brisa raises her eyebrows, "Huh... I would not have guessed there. Interesting."
Raphael says, "But that's the Captain's tale."
Brisa has her ears metaphorically pricked, waiting for the characteristic sounds of trouble approaching... since she expects to meet the infamous Fireball soon! She smiles at Raff's words, "Does he tell it often to curious passers-by?"
Raphael smiles wickedly, "You could always ask."
Brisa laughs! "Maybe I will."
Roxanna says, "Interesting... very interesting."
Outside the doorway the three Hoarders push and pull a tall redhead through the doorway with a great deal of effort, dramatics, and laughter. "Cor, lassie, what are ye trying to do? Ye know that Anwynsson hangs out at the Bar and Fire!" "So what if he said you reminded him of a ground slug... I've seen very pretty- OOOWWWWW!" And one of the sworders comes flying through the door. Rafe just steps back. The country lass rests her face in her palms.
Brisa grins and steps aside, careful to stay between Rox and the poor man flying past. Roxanna munches her apple and watches with a gleam in her eye. Brisa stares with interest at the Fireball... she's wanted to meet her for quite some time! She grins and murmurs as an aside to Roxanna, "Somehow I doubt this is the girl they meant..."
The redhead storms into the tavern, tall and gruff, eyes afire. She stands there, hands on her hips, her long sword at her side. "Fine. I'll make sure yah'll 'ave proper slimy company in bed tonight, Konny..."
Fierce her emerald eyes flash, as hot as her thick mane of crimson hair. She stands tall, her poise balanced like a wild creature, and even the littlest motion betrays a strength as sturdy as quarry rock. Her clothing is just as sharply cut, a sable tunic belted tight over a pair of tunics, an overtunic brown, an undertunic green. Usually an armored hauberk barely conceals her distinctive curves, her martial attired matched by the long sword at her side.
The fallen swordsman just laughs. "Kori, ye woul... oh."
Rafe looks to Konny and just nods. The redhead just crosses her arms, storming over to the farm girl's table where she throws herself into a chair. "They never let me have any fun."
Roxanna says, "Doesn't seem likely, no. Maybe we should ask David if anyone is missing?"
Brisa nods to Roxanna, although she's watching the redhead with amusement. "Korinna McLaine, da?"
Kori looks up at Brisa fiercely. "Da."
Brisa smiles, "I'm guessing Poppy never let you have any fun either, eh?"
Roxanna grins. "Oh, my... poor Benedict."
Brisa grins at Roxanna, "He's going to faint if she glares at him!"
Roxanna says, "I'm thinking of his 'coincidence' problem." Brisa laughs!
Kori starts for a moment, her head tilting. "Ya'll know Poppy Gwynn?" Next to Kori, the older country lass just raises her head.
Brisa grins at Kori, "Da. She's my teacher also."
Kori smiles then, motioning her forward to sit at the table "Khai, how is she? And Lightning Hooves? Where did she take you -- because she hasn't been in her usual haunts?"
Brisa says, "Down to Amber way." She grins, moving over to the table, "This is Roxanna, a friend I met on the road recently. Roxanna, this is Kori, my teacher's student before me."
Roxanna nods politely. "Pleased to meet you."
Brisa laughs, "Lightning Hooves! Oh, he's still as full of himself as usual... and she's fine. Still avoiding the temple like the plague, of course!"
It is the other woman who answers first. She is older, slender, dressed in a light set of tunics, in gentle creams and browns. She appears more suited to a farmer's house than a tavern hall, but her words, while quiet, are strong. She does manage a darkly wry smile at Brisa's comment, however. "Yes. I remember. I think we were the only two to annoy everyone in the Temple, including Karry Allaine. But that was before she was the high priestess."
Brisa tilts her head curiously, "I don't think we've met, dama?"
The other woman holds out her hand, "Captain Dandelion Alyssa Koromov."
Long blonde hair falls in a gentle cascade, while violet eyes sparkle and lightly dance. A country lass, she is light and frail, as if a strong breeze might carry her away. A wisp of a lady, tall and slender, she is draped in light browns and cream; tunic, overtunic and surcoat, her full skirts swirling gently with each simple pace. Last, she bears a splash of silver, a simple star pendant hung on an elegant loop of leather about her neck.
Brisa takes the woman's hand and bows politely over it, "I'm honored, Captain." Then she blinks as a few mental connections are made!
Dandelion nods and sits back. "So what brings you to my Horde? Are you looking for a place, like Kori?"
Brisa says, "Er, no! I'm sorry, I'm forgetting myself -- we need to ask David if any girls are missing, since obviously it's not Kori that's gone!"
Kori leans forward, "A missing girl?" while Captain Koromov simply frowns. "And why would a girl be missing..."
Brisa says, "Um... well, we saw a murder last night, and the stableboy was told we should return the object we took by midnight tonight or they'd... keep the girl? I have no idea who the girl is though...? We'd intended to just hand the thing over to the authorities... but now I'm not sure what to do."
Roxanna says, "We overheard a few of your folks commenting that 'Fireball was missing'...we thought it might have been a case of mistaken identity -- now we don't know what to think." Brisa nods.
Dandelion nods again, "It also depends on which authorities. There's the temple... the Jvrillian guard, the Mercantile Association, and I think you might guess that my loyalties lie outside any one of them. And Kori... Kori was just getting us into trouble with the Temple about a day earlier than we need, correct Kori?"
Brisa covers a grin at that. The Fireball nods, gruff, giving her companion a sidelong look. "Yes, Captain, sir."
Brisa says, "Well... Benedict, you may have noticed him, the young lad that was with us earlier? He's Hasturian, and I think he'd feel best if it went to them. Me... I just want to be sure no one else gets hurt for this. We were also offered five hundred crowns apiece for it... so someone really wants it."
Dandelion looks across to Roxanna, "No offense to you, Lady. It's just that your Knights don't see quite eye to eye on me and my profession." She then looks back to Brisa. "Someone? Or someones?"
Brisa shakes her head, "A voice in the night, captain. Not the same as terrorized the stableboy though, I think. They knew I took the object. The voice thought the men would have it."
Dandelion says, "That would seem to me to be someones."
Roxanna says, "Two sets of someones, in fact."
Brisa smiles ruefully, "So far, Captain. Somehow I'm not going to be surprised if more turn up during the day..."
Dandelion shakes her head, "That would not surprise me either. They say you can buy anything in these markets."
Brisa looks around for David. Roxanna says, "Sounds just like back home..."
Dandelion looks to Roxanna? "Back home?"
Brisa tilts her head curiously, then grins at Roxanna, "I was just about to say the same, about Trundle... which reminds me..." she grins at Rafe, "You just love that, don't you? Folks not realizing the captain's a woman?"
The tall mercenary looks down and smiles, "You didn't ask."
Roxanna grins at Brisa. "He's got a point."
Brisa laughs again, "So I didn't. So... do you know where David is? We should try to track down what girl is missing, if it's by our actions."
Both Captain Koromov and her lieutenant nod towards the center of the tavern, where the barkeep works behind his circular counter. Brisa nods politely, "Excuse me, Captain. Kori, pleasure to finally meet you... maybe we can talk again later, but I should really speak to David for a bit." She heads over to the round bar, "David? Odd though it sounds, do you know of any missing girls?"
The captain looks back and nods. "I'm not sure we can be of any help... we stand out, yes?
David blinks quietly, as he fills two goblets of ale. "Missing lassies? I donnae 'ave 'eard of any, nae tha' I'd 'ave any reason, I think.
Brisa grins at the captain's words, "Er... I think we all do, actually. Not a problem." She nods to David and sighs softly, looking to Roxanna, "Well... suggestions?"
Roxanna says, "Weird city. I don't know who they'd have meant. Everyone's present and accounted for."
Brisa frowns, drumming her fingers lightly on the counter, "D'you think maybe it was an idle threat, just to scare us?"
Roxanna says, "If so, it backfired."
Brisa says, "I suppose so... but now I'm leery of handing the thing over, either to them or to the authorities. What if there's some poor girl they've kidnapped?"
Roxanna says, "At this point, I'd make them prove it..."
Brisa sighs softly, "Well... I'd almost prefer to just set the authorities on them -- thieves in the night that terrorize children don't impress me... but I guess we can't, 'til we're sure there's no girl."
David shakes his, "However, I can ask around, aye?
Brisa nods, "Please, David."
Brisa turns back to pick up some more breakfast -- her stomach is insisting that one meat pie was not enough! She pauses near the captain's table, then asks almost a little shyly, "So um, Captain Koromov... so do you ever tell stories to curious passers by? Like um... like about turning the army of the Fair folk?"
Dandelion shrugs her shoulders. "It wasn't an army. Perhaps twenty five horse, all in all."
Brisa nods interestedly, listening intently, "What happened? So... were all the tales of the armies of the Fair folk only small raiding parties in reality?"
Dandelion shakes her head, "Oh, I wouldn't know. I suspect the older wars were quite horrible. I do know we were coming out of Corliss when we found the villages. And then they stumbled on me, and I fought back. And they had to fight fair."
Brisa says, "Was it only you? How do you mean, fight fair? What did they look like? Did they say why they were doing what they were doing? Did they just raze the villages and kill everyone? Was there any reason why?" Brisa's questions tumble out before she catches herself, looking faintly sheepish.
Dandelion smiles quietly. "I can't do magic, little one."
Brisa looks puzzled, "Pardon? I don't understand... you mean... like none?"
Dandelion continues quietly, "They were tall and handsome, fair skin and tall pointed ears, like a horse's, not like an easterner's. And yes, they razed the villages, like a fog whose touch was as sharp as a steel blade. Why? We never found out. And no. None. Not even Her little starlight. But it also means that when I'm near no magics work. They could not walk halfway between here and Faerie. They had to fight on one world, at one time."
Brisa blinks, trying to fathom that... no magic?! Slowly she says, "Then... how could you travel with Poppy and Lightning Hooves? Or... if they could be there, but couldn't leave..." She falls silent, thinking furiously.
Dandelion smiles quietly, "I always made Lightning Hooves nervous."
Brisa nods slowly, then thoughtfully adds, "Is this... why you use um... what was it... black metal? Black steel armor? Is that um... not-magic-allowing?" She adds hesitantly, "Do you know um... why you don't do magic, by any chance?"
Dandelion laughs quietly, "Oh, no. My armor is the best there is. But for everyone else it helped them. Magic and cold iron do not mix. But it is soft."
Brisa says, "What is soft?" She studies the captain puzzledly while she speaks... she obviously has a deity, so the lack of magic can't be linked to that... how in the Heartwood could one completely lose one's magic!?
Dandelion says, "Steel is hard, iron is soft. It's not as good for stopping blows from hurting you. A strong blow will still hurt a lot."
Brisa nods slowly again, "So... even without their magic the Fair folk are powerful and dangerous warriors, I take it?"
Dandelion nods quietly, "Yes. It's their magic that makes them terrible."
Brisa says, "Huh..." She leans her chin in her hands in fascination, "Have you ever bee- no, wait, they wouldn't be able to take you to their lands, would they?"
Dandelion shakes her head. "Actually I have, but only when I stumbled once across a massive set of standing stones, where all about me stayed the same, and the entire place was brought to Faerie."
Brisa says, "Have you always stopped magic on yourself?" She blinks, suddenly realizing what a mixed blessing that would be, if injured... she tries to imagine how good a fighter one would have to be, to be so confident in one's abilities that a healer would never be needed... she shakes her head in faint awe at that thought, and adds, "What happened? And where was it?"
"Near MacMurphy's Tavern, the stones just grew out of the ground. And I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess."
Brisa says, "Grew?!" She sounds fascinated, "Near... where's that?"
Dandelion smiles quietly, "About halfway between Highside Heather and Bordertown...
...and another tale away..."