| Heartwood Logs |
2000-03-10
| Heartwood |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
Merchants and Mercenaries
Benedict stirs to the sound of whispered conversation, his eyes slipping open to see Brisa and Trystan in close conversation with a third man, a stranger, garbed in a decent tunic and finely trimmed surcoat, a handful of purses hanging from his belt. His light hair is thinning, framing a face rugged and worn just a little by the harsh Black Mountain storms. Below their loft accommodations, the Horde's destriers pace and whuffle, a quiet counterpoint. Brisa nods grimly, her accent thickening with her annoyance, "Nyeh kulturnye... I am thinking you must hire bodyguard now, gospodin. Is not safe for you, now we have spoken... and girl is stolen, we think, and one already for this has died..."
Benedict blinks, rubbing his eyes as he slowly comes awake -- nightmares of being nothing more than a key, being passed from one had to another, each handler dying before passing him on... not entirely an odd nightmare, considering -- and hears the conversation. Ah, the missing girl...
Brisa looks up at Benedict's movement, "Ah, Benedict... this is Barry, who was to receive valuable merchandise from Colin, who has not met up with him yet, who has met pumpkin man and company. Was thinking to ask for description of this Colin and girl, to see if he the dead man matched."
Roxanna wakes suddenly at the voices, then relaxes as she recognizes Brisa. She sits up, wondering who she's talking with...
Benedict blinks, and shivers. He nods quietly to Barry. "Good day, Sir," he says quietly. He glances to Brisa, "Merchandise...?"
Trystan stands nearby, a balance of relaxed attentiveness.
Brisa notes Roxanna's start, and smiles reassuringly at her.
The merchant looks across to the waking brother, "Afternoon... Master Benedict... and," He blinks, "Oh My! Good afternoon, Lady."
Brisa says, "Dama Roxanna, gospodin Barry this is."
Roxanna brushes straw out of her hair and smiles reassuringly, "Good afternoon, gospodin. You have news for us?"
Brisa nods to Benedict, "Am guessing it was whatever in warehouse was locked."
Benedict nods slowly, frowning. That would make Colin likely the dead man... but who would be the woman?
Shaking his head, Barry's expression is dark, "I am not sure, Lady. From what your companions have spoken, it is you who have news for me. I am feared that my friend Colin is dancing with her Coldness... and his daughter is in danger too.
Brisa turns to Barry, describing the dead man, and asks, "This is how your friend Colin looked? Am hoping for your sake not?"
Trystan watches the exchange quietly.
Barry swallows, "Da... that would be Colin."
Brisa sighs, and says gently, "May Herself smile on him then... I am sorry, gospodin."
Benedict sighs, and closes his eyes, thinking several rather things inappropriate for a novice, "I'm sorry as well, Sir."
Brisa seems sunk in thought.
The merchant's shoulders shrug, and then they fall.
Roxanna says, "Then the girl is likely his daughter. We now have something useful to go on."
Roxanna sighs. "However unpleasant it may be."
Brisa looks up, "Gospodin... what warehouses did your friend tend to use when here, please? Could they be warehouses of ah... Sama- no, um... yes, Samara Kelleni?"
Trystan's brows furrow slightly at that mention.
Benedict's ears prick metaphorically at the name. Where did Brisa hear that from? He rifles through the files of his mind; no, he can't remember hearing that name himself.
Barry whispers quietly, ".... Elise..." At Brisa's question, however, he looks up, rubbing his chin. "Sam Kelleni? I'm not sure... her warehouses are usually beyond the likes of Colin and me. But then... then... if Colin's merchandise was as valuable as he said it was, perhaps, just perhaps it is so."
Benedict frowns slightly. "Sir... uhm, I must ask a few... perhaps uncomfortable... questions. If I may...?"
Barry blinks quietly, "If... if... if it might help?"
Benedict nods to Brisa, then turns back to Barry. He takes a deep breath. "First... I wear the robes of Hastur's priesthood, but I am not a Judge. I am His Eyes, but I am no Judge. Saying that, I would say that I wish to help in whatever way I can." He pauses. "I take it that... that Colin was of the Imperial faith?"
Brisa raises a somewhat surprised eyebrow at Benedict's words.
Trystan also makes curious note of Benedict's choice of phraseology.
"Colin?" The merchant shakes his head. "You are in the Black Mountains, lad. He was like me..." Barry reaches to the neck of his tunic, slowly pulling out a simple pendant, a penny hung from a leather loop. "But we caused no trouble, and obey your laws, and keep the peace. Good for us, good for trade it is. There's no hatred between Us and Yours."
Trystan hmms softly, just an observer... just watching.
Brisa frowns thoughtfully at Benedict.
Benedict nods, inwardly seething. It shouldn't matter, blast it! he thinks angrily. It shouldn't matter which god or gods he worshipped, he was still killed, he still died by violence."I assure you that whether he is or not does not matter. To me, anyway," he adds, reluctantly. "I only wish to see his killers brought to... justice." You can, however, hear the lower-case spelling of the word in his voice, "Would lady Kelleni be of the kind to use... well, magics, and magical things, or things that could be magical?"
Barry furrows his brow, considering, "Well, they say her warehouses are the most secure in Cragside... and I suppose it would be naive to think there are no thieves here. Especially fat roly-poly ones."
Trystan opens his mouth to... but decides the better of it, and continues watching...
Brisa blinks, then says softly, "Gospodin Barry... do you know where her warehouses are? All of them?"
Benedict nods slowly and thoughtfully, "Secure... which may very well imply magical." He inclines his head, sighing, "Thank you, Sir. I know that I may make you uncomfortable with my faith, but I thank you for your trust."
Trystan leans over to Roxanna, whispering softly in her ear, "...I've never seen this side of Benedict..." he leans back to where he was before.
Rubbing his chin again, Barry considers, "She owns a pair along the north wall, just west of the three watchtowers, an' I think she also manages a block right across the street. Dove, Circlet, Hammer, Wolf... I think those are her warehouses."
Benedict closes his eyes, trying to remember back to the... experience he had as... he had with the darksteel key.
Roxanna says, "Hmm. But if Colin was killed here and the key had been carried a long ways... what exactly did you sense in that respect, Benedict?"
Brisa murmurs clearly, "What gospodin Barry does not know is what gospodin Barry cannot have beaten out of him by thugs, my companions." She eyes Roxanna ruefully.
Benedict shakes his head, "Brisa is right, we'd better not risk our luck."
Brisa sighs and turns back to the merchant, "Could you lead us to them, perchance? At least you'd be in our company for a while... although I'd feel better if you had a bodyguard with you as well for the nonce."
Trystan nods his assent.
Barry blinks then, finally understanding the shattered bits of conversation. For a second time he swallows, "...What I... does that mean you are the ones... oh!" He then shakes his head, like he was clearing out a bad or uncomfortable thought, "Oh... I guess... they are on the far side of town."
Roxanna looks a little abashed at Brisa, "Sorry...did I let the cat out of the bag?"
Brisa smiles quietly, waiting for Barry to work through that one... then nods, "Well enough then. Is now all right?" She grins at Roxanna, "Happens to the best of us. Hm... maybe a few of the Horde might like to come along..." her grin gets mischievous, "-to escort a pretty Atteran?"
Trystan chuckles softly.
Roxanna considers this in some surprise, obviously not being used to the idea of an escort. "Might be an interesting idea. 'Twould make it difficult to remain inconspicuous, though."
Brisa laughs! "Ah... Roxanna, we're being shadowed by at least one group, and at least two more want us. We're an Atteran, a sword bitch, and a Hasturian... Trystan and Barry are the two most 'normal' looking of the group! We'll stand out, I'm sure."
Barry shakes his head vigorously, "Inconspicuous... pardon... but with her? I mean, the merchant's barn was all abuzz over you since... since yesterday eve."
Roxanna grins sheepishly, "Da... I guess you're right. I'm used to sneaking around by myself."
Benedict says dryly, "I guess that's inevitable. The question is, what do we do once we get there?"
Brisa eyes Benedict, "We don't talk about it in front of poor Barry, lad."
Benedict nods to Brisa, "Sorry, almost forgot." He looks to Barry apologetically.
Brisa adds quietly, just for Benedict, while Barry's talking, "And if you recognize it, Benedict, let us know quietly please, da?"
Benedict nods, albeit almost imperceptibly, to Brisa.
Trystan scratches his head and wonders aloud... "Do we know who was so anxious to have the... trinket returned? I mean... would it be a safe guess that this 'her,' the one who 'owns' the warehouses... would she want it returned?"
Brisa ahems softly at Trystan, tilts her head slightly towards Barry, and quietly shakes her head imperceptibly at Trystan, with a small smile, then adds, "Besides, Trys... it belongs to the girl now, wherever she is."
Roxanna says, "I would consider at least talking with the crowd who claims to have the girl... demand to see her, at least?"
Trystan nods softly... "Mmm... just... just trying to figure out..." he trails, scratching his head, "...if we do go poking around there... how much danger we're getting into."
Brisa frowns thoughtfully, "First the warehouse, if we can find it... then talk to those who claim to have the girl. Does that sound reasonable?" She grins at Trystan, "A lot, Trys. They've killed one, kidnapped another."
Trystan nods to Roxanna, "...and see if we can recognize any of 'that crowd' or see if we recognize them in the future..."
Brisa nods and rises, offering one helping hand up to Roxanna, the other to Barry, "Well then... shall we go see if the Horde have anyone bored who'd like to go a-wandering through town with us?"
Roxanna sighs again, "And Lady Alicia wanted me to go somewhere safer..."
Brisa grins!
Trystan nods softly to Brisa, "...but danger from which side... if that woman has no concern about the key... well... if it is to a storehouse, she could just hack through a wall or something?"
Barry nods, "And attracted a lot of attention. The whole barn is like old ladies at the town well. It's as if it echoes even into the Guildhouse." He stands, dusting the hay from his skirts.
Trystan says, "...so... I guess thinking that it was her that came a-knocking on our door that night is out?"
Brisa glances at Barry, "What attracted a lot of attention? Do you mean the Jvrillian guildhouse?" She shakes her head at Trystan, "I'm thinking it's a magically warded warehouse, Trys."
Trystan looks to Barry... "She couldn't justify it as... she owns it and is within her rights... oh... magic... right. I keep forgetting about that." Suddenly a bit on the ceiling has much interest for the bard.
Brisa grins quietly.
Benedict frets a little, and stands, brushing his robes free of hay, "Shall we get started? I think Barry here will feel better once we know what this is all about..."
Roxanna just raises an eyebrow at Trystan, "Shall we be off, then?"
Barry shakes his head again, crossing his arms and slipping his hands into his sleeves, "No, the Mercantile Association. If it's... what I don't know about is true, it's not a question of who is seeking you out, but who isn't."
Brisa laughs a touch grimly, "Well then... let us get moving. Hm... I'm tempted to ask for more than just a Hordesman or two... well, let's see what we can get first." She heads down the ladder purposefully.
Benedict hmms... Trystan nods, "Aye, m'lady. Let's be off. I'll... um... bring up the rear."
The commons hall of the Horse and Hart is beginning to crowd as the sky slowly darkens, casting shadows across the wood planking and sturdy heavy timber structure. A handful of freelance mercenaries cluster about the hearth and its bubbling stewpot, while the Captain and her companion Raphael sit across from each other, sharing a large bucket of beer with her short and grim second. Silhouetted in the door is the Fireball, arms crossed, one leg braced brazenly against the other jamb. David sets up round after round, while his helpers must weave carefully through the crowded room.
Trystan quietly brings up the rear of the little party.
Roxanna lets Brisa open the conversation, figuring that fellow professionals communicate best.
Brisa enters, stepping politely around Kori, and looks around thoughtfully... then grins and says, "Captain Koromov... would it be acceptable to yourself if I were to mention here that my companions and I were going somewhere... where there might be a bit of a scuffle? and that the dama Roxanna wouldn't mind a somewhat larger escort?"
Kori's head turns, her crimson hair tossing with the sharp movement as she hears the word 'scuffle.'
Brisa grins quietly to herself, and somehow knew that would attract Kori's attention... but she continues to politely and inquiringly observe the captain. She mentally crosses her fingers that the captain won't let Kori go, though... but will let others go -- and also that some of the young men here would just love to walk along with Roxanna!
Benedict remains quiet and blissfully unaware of Kori's sudden attention; he is, however, amused by Brisa's means of getting escorts for them!
Setting down her ale, Captain Koromov lifts her head, her eyes narrowing a bit. As she listens, her two companions' attention is also snared, with Barris crossing his arms and Rafe raising a single eyebrow. Koromov replies quietly, her words soft-spoken and seemingly innocent, but certainly a bit more telling than harmless, "A scuffle... trouble... trouble larger than you can handle?"
Brisa answers honestly, "Trouble that has the potential to be a knife in the back, in the night. In cases such as that, more eyes are always wiser, or so my teacher always said."
Dandelion considers, and then gives Brisa a slow, sly look, "And you know I can't refuse." With a shake of her head, the Captain stands, carefully brushing out the folds of her skirt. She turns to her second, "Keep us out of trouble, Barris..." She then considers, "Just how much trouble?" As she speaks, she looks between Rafe and Kori...
Brisa looks startled, then chagrined at the captain's words... she opens her mouth to say something… then realizes she'll only make it worse. She shuts up, looking a bit embarrassed. Then, to answer the captain's question, she thinks for a moment... then says carefully, "It has to do with the missing girl, Captain. We believe we have a lead, but we also know that we're being followed by the pumpkin man and his cohorts... and that there are at least three extremely interested groups... um, what else... oh, and that they've killed one person and apparently kidnapped another. I ah... would prefer there be no more deaths."
Dandelion straightens her sword belt, giving Brisa a wry and amused glance, "Be careful what you ask for, apprentice... you sometimes get what you asked for, yes?"
Trystan nods in agreement.
Brisa just sighs softly in reply to that... saying 'I'm sorry' would be stupid at this point.
Benedict blinks, not fully comprehending... but at Brisa's unusual silence, and her look, deciding that now -- or ever, for that matter -- is not a good time to ask. He tries to look inconspicuous.
Dandelion crosses her arms and nods, "Rafe, want to take a walk..."
At the door, Kori just gives her captain a Look.
Brisa carefully does not look at Kori, nor does she grin -- although the latter is a bit of a struggle!
The tall Horde mercenary stands. Raphael considers, and then sets his guitar to the side, in a safe and protected corner. With a shrug he steps up behind his captain, "A breath of evening air..."
Captain Koromov, however just gives a matching look to Kori in return, "I need quiet and sure... and a strong arm here... just in case."
Benedict trails along after Brisa, feeling a bit of an uncomfortable tension.
Trystan can be seen eyeing Raphael closely as he stows his guitar.
Brisa smiles quietly at Benedict, "Keep your eyes open now, lad, yes?" and heads out to wait in the inn's yard... and to let the captain deal with her people as she chooses, with a bit of privacy.
Benedict inclines his head, and says wryly, "I'll try...."
Roxanna nods and follows Brisa to the courtyard, "Why do I gather you invoked something by accident, there?"
Trystan follows as well, watching the members of the Horde as he leaves.
Benedict follows Brisa outside, folding his hands within the sleeves of his robe against the chill air of the oncoming night.
Brisa eyes the barn thoughtfully for a few seconds... then studies Roxanna for a few moments... finally she sighs and shakes her head, "No, I don't think it'd be wise to take Khari along. Er..." she grins sheepishly, "Who, me?"
Trystan tilts his head, watching the two women.
Roxanna grins, "You did do most of the talking."
Brisa smiles, "True." She thinks a bit, then grins ruefully, "Old obligations, inherited from my teacher... I'd forgotten they existed, but obviously they're still there. I... will simply have to be careful to return the courtesy at some point."
Benedict blinks, and nods to Brisa, "Well, unless they thoroughly object to doing this...."
Trystan clears his throat softly, "...what kind of courtesy should we be aware of returning?"
With light steps the Captain walks out of the Horse and Hart. Rafe wanders quiet on her right side as she slowly folds her hand behind her back. "So..." the Captain nods, "Where do we wander tonight? I know of no parks or pretty street sides in this place..."
Trystan straightens hi tunic as the Captain enters the scene.
Roxanna nods, and whispers quietly to Trystan, "She, and by extension, we, incur an obligation to aid the Captain at some time in the future."
Brisa nods to the captain and her companion, then turns to indicate Barry, "Gospodin Barry has offered to show us some warehouses. We will recognize the one we want... and hopefully this will be a simple stroll, with no surprises." She gestures to Barry to lead the way.
Trystan nods softly, leaning in to whisper to Roxanna, "I'm just wondering what kind of obligation... you know... to the Horde."
Roxanna says, "Captain, I thank you for your courtesy. We wish to find some information tonight."
Benedict looks a little nervous. He's not sure how he'll react to seeing it. Then again, he was a key when he saw the warehouse last; actually seeing it isn't likely to make all that much of an impression.
Dandelion smiles then, nodding, "Well, then, hopefully it will be a quiet walk about town..."
Trystan nods to the Captain, softly stating, "We all thank you for your accompanying us."
He thinks he is being sneaky and sly, but to Brisa he is as obvious as... as obvious as a Jvrillian mercenary. From the corner of an alleyway he sprints, his armor jangling, his black and blue surcoat snapping about him. He seems destined towards the town gates, or at least the taverns at the town gates.
Brisa raises an eyebrow, watching the young Jvrillian dash off, in such a way that others can pick up on what she's doing... then hms. Now... will those folks be after the Captain, the Fireball, or the key? She smiles ruefully to herself... life is so much more... complicated in cities!
Roxanna hmms, "Now this could be boding a lot better..."
Benedict glances the way of the running figure, frowning to himself, unable to pick out details, and remembering his Master's words again, "No such thing as 'coincidences,'" he murmurs.
Brisa nods quietly, "My guess is he's heading for the Punched Penny." She pauses, thinking... then turns to face Dandelion, "Captain, you know them better than we. Do you think it would be wisest for you to remain here, or no?"
Dandelion stops and turns, looking towards the tavern, "What do you think, youngling. I think one way or another, somewhere there's going to be a brawl tonight. Maybe two. The real question is, where do you want it to be, Brisa?"
Trystan chuckles softly, noting the wisdom of the Captain.
Brisa frowns, thinking... then says a little regretfully, "Um... begging your pardon, captain, but your people are warriors. My companions aren't. So... I'd have to say here."
Dandelion nods quietly, considering. "Let's see just how well I know my friend Anwynsson. Rafe, stay here, yes? I'll go on. Keep an eye on Duffy."
Brisa nods, taking a deep breath... then turns to Barry and says firmly, "Lead on. Swiftly, please?"
Trystan looks to Barry to lead.
Roxanna says, "Swiftly indeed...."
Down the main street Barry leads, almost indeed to the Temples themselves. But a few buildings before he turns right, vanishing down a hidden alley. In the distance one can almost swear the shadows are moving, and that there are more than a few eyes watching suspiciously as the two Dayallans walk down the street. There is a clip clop of galloping hooves back gate-wards, maybe more than one horse, vanishing to the north. All in all, this part of town suddenly gets much quieter; less people, less traffic, and the buildings very similar. Simple, tall, many with but a single cart-sized door in their front. Barry ponders... "Tiger Warehouse... Hammer warehouse..." Until he turns a corner, between a row of big buildings. Their facades are random, with many places to hide. And standing in the middle of the street are four horses. Each with a black and blue checkerboard upon their necks.
Brisa sighs softly, "Damn."
Benedict's eyes widen, and he frowns, "This is bad, isn't it?" he whispers.
Trystan assumes his winning bardic pose.
Roxanna says, "I can't imagine it's good. Who are these people?"
Trystan, through smiling yet gritted teeth, leans over to Brisa and asks, "...are we in trouble?"
Brisa frowns, "Um... actually I'm not sure who they are, Roxanna." She grins reassuringly at Trystan, "It's all right, Trys... when you're with a sword bitch you're always in trouble!"
Benedict deadpans, "We're in trouble."
Brisa murmurs to Benedict, "Are you looking at warehouses?"
Trystan nods to his companions, still smiling, even though his teeth are drying out.
Brisa ahs! suddenly, and leans to whisper to Benedict, "Hey, aren't you conducting a murder investigation? Can you tell them to leave us alone?"
Benedict nods shakily, as he looks around, "Yes. None of the warehouses look familiar." He glances to Brisa uncomfortably, "I... I can't say that, Brisa..."
Dandelion stops and just stands there, quiet. She gives Brisa a slow look, "Like the gentle we saw earlier," she whispers, "Town Guard..."
Trystan mentions to Benedict, loud enough for the horsemen to overhear, but not so loud as to be obvious... "You know... I just don't see any I'd be comfortable having my mother's belongings in... it's not that they're valuable... not to anyone outside of the family... but still..."
Brisa nods firmly, "Okay, then... we're doing no wrong, and we need to move on. Gospodin Barry, lead on, please."
Benedict sighs, and gulps, dropping his voice so only Brisa can hear, "I'm investigating it, yes, but not for the Temple..." He blinks at Trystan.
Brisa nods quietly to Dandelion... she shifts so she's on the opposite side of the party from Dandelion, then stops and stands, turning and listening, trying to place where the four riders must be.
Trystan, hearing the others talk, wraps up his patter, "I suppose we just keep looking, hmm? It's what mother would have wanted." He sighs melodramatically, "...I just wish Dad had hung on longer... I miss them so." He wipes a tear (a real, live acting tear) from his eye.
Brisa grins at Trys, "We keep looking, yes."
Trystan whispers almost inaudibly to Brisa, "We keep going?"
Brisa holds up a finger to her lips as Trystan whispers, still trying to tell what's nearby.
Trystan nods, quieting.
Brisa hmms, then turns and examines the horses thoughtfully... do they look like attack-prone war horses, or like horses one can walk quietly past?
Dandelion stops still, "I thought so... Kyle, these folks have nothing to do with me and you... let them pass."
From a shadowed corner a tall mercenary steps, his armor jingly, his spurs reflecting sharp. His hands are hooked in his swordbelt.
Benedict makes a low sound in his throat, "We have company...," he murmurs softly.
Brisa looks at Dandelion... then at the Jvrillian. She looks at her companions, then back at the captain... then says politely to her companions, "Would you all excuse me for just a moment, please?" and steps quietly to stand at the captain's shield-side.
Tall, dark, and grim, the mercenary captain casts a long shadow with each long stride. Dark colors fit him well, from his quarter-paneled tunic to the spurs upon his polished leather boots. Steel rivets make a martial pattern across his heavy cour-bouilli hauberk, with plates of black metal matching the sable sheen of his scabbarded longsword.
... as his three companions accompany him, one at his side, two from across the street...
Kyle Anwynnson says, "Why.... Dandy, so far from home." He strokes his cheek, where there is a long, long scar, "And away from that traitor Barris and that damnable Imperial."
Benedict opens his mouth, then closes it with a snap. Oh, blast. It's times like this that he wishes the priesthood at least let Eyes carry, well, something more than cudgels and staves.
Kyle shakes his head, "And I don't expect you to be able to call on the Knight to rescue you this time, bitch. He's probably at the Horse and Hart now..."
Roxanna glares at Kyle and his hirelings, "And so you are deliberately planning to make more work for me with no real cause?"
Dandelion's eyes narrow, sharp. She says nothing, but her balance shifts, one hand falling to her sword.
Brisa waits quietly for the talking to finish. She eyes the three henchmen, trying to assess their abilities. She's not sure she can keep all of them busy... she'll do her best.
Benedict's eyes flicker between Brisa and Dandelion, and this... well, arrogant oaf and his henchmen. He clenches his fists. What to do, what to do...
The mercenary Captain simply shrugs, "Stand aside, Lady, and you will come to no harm. We have no quarrel with your church... just with Her and Hers.
Trystan tilts his head softly, wondering. He almost fits into the background, but at that last comment... well... a quarrel with a church is... well. You know.
Roxanna sighs, and moves aside slowly, "On your own head be it, then. Though I do not see why you need to have a quarrel at all."
Trystan puts on his best winning, convincing voice, soothing.... he intones, "Gentle lord, a quarrel with a church? Surely one such as yourself has risen above such petty quarrellings with travelers such as us?"
Brisa follows Dandelion's lead... she doesn't want to start the fight, but rather to back Dandelion up as best she can. She won't draw 'til the captain or one of the Jvrillians does.
Benedict frets more and takes in a deep breath. What to do, what to do.... There are always possibilities you have not thought of, always Truths you have not yet seen. Lot of good his master's exhortations do now. But until he can do something he had best not interfere. Besides, he considers… Brisa and Dandelion would likely skewer him out of pride if he tried to interfere. If the boorish mercenary's sword didn't skewer him first.
Brisa wishes idly she had her bow and quiver with her... she'll have to remember that next time she's wandering through an unknown city.
"I am going to be the one who takes down the great Dandy Koromov!" And he slowly walks forward, drawing his steel with the first step. Brisa almost hears a growl beside her, as the captain's eyes become narrow slits... "No one calls me Dandy."
Brisa grins and thinks to herself, bet Poppy can, as she draws her sword and shifts to cover the three henchmen. Thank goodness the Jvrillian guy is arrogant enough to want to face the captain himself.
Trystan steps back to allow himself to not get in the way of the combatants... playing somewhat of the coward, but... well... we'll see...
Brisa calls back softly to her companions, "Stay together, please? These aren't our true opponents..." and then she has to concentrate.
Trystan makes a calculated risk... he returns Brisa's call loud enough for Kyle and the others to hear, "...they're just practicing for the real challenge tonight..."
Brisa grins quietly.
The lead Jvrillian steps forward, but the frail Dayallan is swifter -- far, far swifter. A black sword slashes out, dark as night, sleek and sure, a daring arc, and when it comes back there is not even a gurgle as Anwynsson falls forward and an arc of crimson shears out in the path of Koromov's blade. The other three stand in shock for a moment... and then they scream and charge...
Benedict yelps! "Oh, no!" he exclaims.
A moment caught in time. Dandelion Koromov is two steps in front of Brisa, in the shadow of the tall warehouses. Her sword is slashing back down as she turns, caught between one charging from her right and two from her left. The one in front is wearing the same armor as Brisa is... while the other two are in a heavy black waxed leather, one with a dangerous looking longsword. A pace further behind Brisa are their three companions, and Barry is slowly retreating even farther...
Three close in on the Dayallan captain.
Brisa is still on the captain's shield side. She notes the on-rushing two Jvrillians, in less effective armor than hers, focused on the captain... and she roars and rushes them herself. She'll use her own weight behind her sword strike, attempting to run one or both down -- or at the very least give them a fraction of a second's pause.
Trystan wishes to seem to accidentally spring from the shadows screeching about a mouse or rat or something...
The jangle of spurs, the whush of armor. Desperately Trystan runs forward, trying to get between the Captain and the big Jvrillian, the one with the heavy armor. But the lad stumbles, falling, and with a gasp Koromov turns, to step towards the fallen lad...
And that is the chance the other two were waiting for, as they sprint forward, like merebeasts for the kill. Until it is Brisa who steps forward, her sword lashing out low, trying to take two down with one blow, interposing herself between the two... and almost... almost... she catches one, easily slamming past his deadly shortsword...
While Anwynsson's lieutenant is just as shocked as Dandelion, and goes flying as he trips over Trystan.
Brisa leans into the sword thrust, feeling it resist temporarily -- then suddenly give and slide swiftly in with almost sickening ease. She's both fiercely pleased at the solidness of the strike -- and worried at missing the other guy. Good thing Poppy wasn't here... she'd have been quietly sardonic about tying up one's weapon while still in combat. Brisa twists and yanks, snapping her arm and shoulder back as sharply as she can to free her sword from the suddenly dead-weight body -- she shouts, "Dandy! Turn!!" -- and halfway through the motion she lets the inertia of both herself and the impaled fighter's body send them after the still-attacking fighter -- anything to knock him off balance, delay him, whatever will work.
The captain turns, her black blade desperately slashing back, half tripping over Trystan, trying to change her balance for a third time. But it is the Jvrillian's sword that strikes deep, slicing through cloth, leaving a trail of blood, rich, scenting the air with the bitter taste of copper.
The country lass wobbles, falling to her knees. There's a clatter as her sword slips from her hands.
Anwynsson's lieutenant hits the ground hard as Brisa spins around, now behind the last swordsman.
Trystan rolls backwards onto his feet, careening off the remaining lackey, still screeching about a mouse or other nonsensical thing as he tries to rebound out of the fray...
Brisa is snarling as the body slides wetly off her sword and thuds limply to the ground -- she's already twisting her body in a slight crouch to again put all her force behind her blow. Red streams off her sword as it arcs around to slash directly at the neck of the last remaining standing fighter...
The last brigand turns, spinning on his heel as Trystan tumbles away... his sword smashes into Brisa's sword, driving it into the ground, sending up sparks as it slashes and chips upon a rock. There is a bitter glare in his eyes as he draws back his sword, slamming it hard upon Brisa's shoulder... and she can read the frustration in his eyes as all it does is slash deep through her armor, not even cutting the padding beneath.
Trystan scrambles away, and when he looks up he is right next to Anwynsson's lieutenant, who has now returned to his feet.
Brisa just muscles the sword upwards -- there's no finesse in this fight. The Jvrillians are trying to kill them -- she swings upwards, aiming to cut her opponent in the side.
Trystan, realizing that he is now next to a bad guy, screeches and tumbles, limbs flailing in a way that is not entirely haphazard.
Swords cross, Dayallan and Jvrillian. But its Brisa who can feel her own cold steel smash against her face, leaving a trickle of blood as she intercepts the guard's blow with her sword.
There is another smash, however, as Trystan rolls beneath the lieutenant again, taking him down hard. One can almost swear they hear his nose break as his face meets the cold earth.
And to the side the Captain of the Horde falls over, curling up into a little ball, clutching her belly.
Roxanna scowls at the violence and steps forward to check on the injured Captain.
Trystan scrabbles to safety, letting the real fighters do their work. Still on the ground, he clutches Benedict's calf, still stammering about rodents, "It almost bit me it did!!! I swear... it had huge... teeth-th-th... and... what? oh..."
Benedict erps?! blinking down at Trystan, looking up at the fallen captain, then back down to Trystan, "What... huh... erf?"
Trystan screeches a final, "Save me!" then quiets to a soft whimper.
Brisa's eyes are flickering as she sidesteps, giving herself distance from her current opponent -- too many people to keep track of, and now there's a noncombatant coming into the battle, even though the other one's leaving -- she swings her sword back to feint a hit at the standing fighter facing her -- then stabs swiftly at the side of the tripped lieutenant -- need to keep him down, and he's more likely to survive that.
Trystan clambers against Benedict... the Captain, however, lies bleeding at Roxanna's feet. The blood flows, her breath is shallow, and she shivers, eyes closed tight.
Roxanna assesses the situation grimly, and comes to the conclusion that a healing spell is in order -- Dandelion needs to be stabilized quickly. She kneels down beside the fallen woman and calls on the Lady Herself for aid...
Benedict growls softly, and stands, raising his arms. "Stop!"
Trystan covers his attack in silence -- he leaps for the one closest to him. After he connects he cries a belated, "Look out!"
Brisa's unexpected turn must have surprised her opponent, as his sword slashes across and up her back, slicing nothing by a shank of hair. Her blow, however, stabs down into the fallen lieutenant...
Brisa doesn't stab at all well -- she doesn't strike strongly, nor where she intended -- but hopefully it will do to keep the lieutenant down. Now to see if she can handle the other guy. She straightens, grimly solid between the two women and the remaining fighter, her sword wind-milling around for another strike.
Roxanna stops dead in the middle of her chant with a stunned look on her face, then starts scrambling to pull bandages out of her kit.
Brisa snarls at the remaining fighter and charges him, doing her best to drive him back from the two women, and to repeat her only success in this battle, throwing her weight behind her strike. Her blow goes wide, slashing far over her assailant's head, but it is because he is stumbling, once again being driven aside by the lightweight madman, as Trystan blindsides him. That indeed probably saves Brisa's hide, for his blow does smash down, drawing Trystan's blood! White hot pain slashes through Trystan's arm, matching the color of his exposed bones.
There is a feral cheer barked out by the Jvrillian as he turns back. He takes his sword in both hands and charges Brisa, "For Anwynsson's Troop!"
The Jvrillian's charge isn't natural, no, not by far. His eyes burn with a harsh and deadly gaze. Meanwhile, Roxanna works sure and swift, and the Captain's bleeding is halted. She still shivers though, teeth clenched, and her body is cool to the touch. The blow cut deep, very deep into her belly.
Brisa is simply grimly workmanlike at this point in the fight -- the insane-looking Jvrillian is just one more problem to deal with, now the lieutenant's finally rising. She swings her sword around and leans into the charge in an effort to let the madman impale himself on her sword.
A sword cuts low, sweeping up to meet a charging foe. But he charges too fast, his two-handed swing smashing, deadly, but never connecting as he collapses. A Dayallan sword-strike to impale left nothing but sinew and brittle bone in its path, as he stepped into her swing. He turns, pivots, collapses in a rush, still trying to crawl on the ground towards Brisa, with only threads of flesh holding his leg on.
Brisa looks down at the fallen berserker and growls softly, "For the captain."
A fell silence comes over the street… save for perhaps labored breathing, and the grim glare of Anwynsson's lieutenant.
The Lieutenant draws himself up to his knees, turning slowly, his sword leveled. "Think you can be taking me too?"
Brisa turns and glances at the lieutenant with a disgusted look, "Do you think I care? We've got three dying, one injured here... and you're still snorting and pawing the ground? Don't you people know when to stop?! Put your sword up and help the Atteran... unless you want your precious Anwynsson Ambusher to die." As she steps to neatly kick the sword out of the fallen berserker's hands she says more calmly, "Benedict, lad... could you run please for the Dama Maris?"
Benedict breaks out of his look of abject shock and nods hurriedly. Then he is off like a shot, running through the streets like a startled doe towards Maris' hospice. His breathing is harsh and loud in his ears, ragged and rushed, fear and worry coursing through his veins, wishing beyond hope that he was back in the novice house...
The grim Jvrillian shakes his head, "You don't understand what happened here, do you. Look at him!"
Trystan looks, but still doesn't get it.
Brisa picks up the sword once it's away from the berserker and sets it near Roxanna, away from the combatants. She glances incuriously at the Jvrillian, "Which one? Your dying companion who's doing his best to berserk? or your dying leader?" She pragmatically adds, "Back up, I don't want you anywhere near me while I try to save him." If the guy moves she'll kneel next to Anwynsson, to see if he's salvageable. She adds apologetically, "I'm sorry, Trystan, I'll be with you as soon as I can, all right?"
Trystan shakes his head softly, "I'm all right.
Brisa snorts in grim amusement at the guy with exposed bone saying he's all right... but has other things she must concentrate on. She nods as Roxanne turns to work on Anwynsson, and goes herself to work on the berserker. Better a warrior try to help him, in case he's still not all there in his head.
Trystan just quietly leans against the shadowed wall, quite calm and placid.
The sound is noisome, the type that cannot help but churn one's stomach. It is from a pool of blood that Roxanne lifts the Jvrillian Captain's head from. He, however, no longer has a face. Roxanna looks a bit ill, herself, even with all the medical disasters she's run across, "I did warn him he was making a mistake..."
Trystan just watches quietly from the shadows.
Benedict runs, weaving through the streets following the path of the previously fled merchant. He spins, running right, up the stairs to the hospice...
Benedict bangs on the door hastily, panting, "Lady Maris!" he stammers, trying not to shout, "Lady Maris...!"
The door opens, and a very tired woman looks out at Benedict. She shakes her head, her gray hair the color of fog, "Oh. Good Brother... You must be Master Benedict?"
Benedict pants, and nods shakily, bowing, "Y-yes, lady. I'm Benedict. We've... my companions and I... Lady Brisa and Lady Roxanne... Captain Dandelion... there was a fight with some Jvrillians."
The elderly Atteran blinks, "Oh... were folks hurt? Dama Koromov .. oh my. Come lad, come lad, show me."
Benedict nods, "Hurt... very badly...." He offers his arm and shoulder to Maris, still panting.
The last Jvrillian sits back on his haunches. Silent...
Trystan coughs politely, "I'd keep an eye on that other miscreant...
Brisa murmurs without looking up, "Which one, Trys?" Her hands are bloody as she tries to save the berserker's life... more pressure, she thinks, good thing I'm strong enough for this...
Roxanna says, "You'll need a tourniquet to even try keeping him alive. It may already be too late."
Brisa's ministrations are an earnest attempt, but he must have been too far gone, too much blood, to much pain... like he just burned himself out. The berserker pales, his breath stops. Brisa scowls, and thumps his chest, trying to force him to breath again, growling, "C'mon, you stupid merc... breath!" She tries her best.
Roxanna sighs at Brisa's attempt, "It's no good... look at all the blood he lost. There's nothing in him to keep him alive any more."
Brisa sighs finally, sitting back in a crouch, her bloody hands dangling dispiritedly off her knees. She looks up at the last Jvrillian, and says simply, "Why?"
Roxanna swings a glare across the Jvrillian, "My question as well. Why?"
Trystan looks softly to Brisa, thinking she'd understand... he whispers, "...he chose... he chose to attack... remember...?"
Brisa dutifully checks the one she stabbed, to see if there's any life left in him.
Roxanna can't do much more for Dandelion at this point, so she calls Trystan over, "Let's do that arm."
Brisa says, "Yes. But why, Trys? He got himself and two of his men killed... for what? What was proved here today?" She shakes her head, "I love a good fight as much as the next... but this..."
The Jvrillian stands quietly, "Because this is our town. And for what she did to Barris Ironhand."
Brisa straightens and just stands, quietly watchful, next to the captain and Roxanna.
Trystan smiles softly, almost bashfully to Roxanna... "I'm fine. Really, I am."
Brisa grins at the Jvrillian, "You're as mad as your dead berserker brother, Jvrillian."
Roxanna just gives Trystan a Look. "I saw you get slashed...let's see that arm."
Trystan ponders... then agrees with Brisa, "She's got a point..." He tries to play off Roxanna's attention... "...why... why worry so much about someone else's problems, to choose to die for them... about someone else's hate? was it your hate as well? I don't understand."
Trystan shakes his head to Roxanna... "I'll be fine... it was barely a scratch, really."
Roxanna sighs and gets up and walks over to Trystan, since he's not going to cooperate, "You're probably in shock if it isn't hurting you badly. Now let's get it sewn up before it gets infected."
Trystan turns away from Roxanna, covering his slash-mark in his shirt with his hand. It comes away dry, "See, there's no blood... it just tore the clothes... well, maybe there was a bit of blood, but it's stopped now. I'm alright..."
Brisa says, "Actually I quite understand following Anwynsson into battle." She eyes the lone remaining man and adds, "I don't understand ambushing one fighter with four though... or following a man so consumed with hate."
The Jvrillian mercenary just gives Brisa a cold, cruel look, "Just like most of us think that the easterners had the right, I hear, when they shoved all those spears into Kisa Allaine at Jeminy's Hill. That's what the Ironhand means to us."
Brisa tilts her head at the Jvrillian... then grins, "Ah, so you know the truth of the song? Interesting that there were no Jvrillians there, eh? And as I hear it... Barris made his own choices. Maybe you should think about yours, da?"
Roxanna looks a bit puzzled, "I could have sworn you took a heavy slash. Must've been the light."
Trystan smiles reassuringly to Roxanna, "I really appreciate your concern... if... if there's any time I really do need help, I am very comforted to know you are a friend." He puts his hand warmly on Roxanna's arm, "And you care."
Brisa gives Trystan a quick, intent glance... then deliberately doesn't stare, but just keeps watching the Jvrillian.
Trystan bows his head gratefully to Roxanna... "I am honored by your compassion."
Roxanna checks the others, tsking to herself at the damage done to Kyle and the berserker, "Humor me, Jvrillian. What happened to Barris Ironhand?"
Trystan sits comfortably in the shadow of the building, watching... just watching.
The Jvrillian stands his ground, the back of his armor stained but no longer bleeding, "Barris Ironhand was the greatest sword lord that lived. Until she broke him, bent him, lured him until even Jvrill couldn't stand his stench anymore. He was Mohlkavin's master and Anwysson's friend. And she ruined him for us."
Brisa grins, "Let me translate, Roxanna... his 'crime' was that he chose to ride with the Horde."
Roxanna nods, "I suspected that was it. No respect for an honest choice, eh?"
Brisa murmurs dryly, "Apparently not. They've been trying to force women to their bidding for as long as the stories tell of them." She walks quietly from body to body, gently brushing the eyes closed and murmuring a quiet prayer for them... although she'll keep an eye on the remaining Jvrillian. She wonders why he's not run off... must want the horses... and perhaps the bodies of his companions too.
Brisa looks up at the Jvrillian, from where she stands by the last body, "Was Anwynsson married?"
There is a clatter from the alleyway, as Benedict slowly returns with the Lady Atteran. And Maris just stops. She just stops and freezes. "Ah, Lady."
Brisa bows politely to the Atteran, "Dama Maris... we regret deeply disturbing you."
Maris looks between the fallen Dayallan and the dead Jvrillian sword lord, "It's just begun, hasn't it."
Brisa doesn't know what that means, so simply heads for the horses, to carry the bodies.
Roxanna says, "We do need to get her into a bed. But I'm afraid so -- whatever it is..."
Brisa pauses and returns to the two healers, murmuring quietly to just them, "Um... damas? I do not think magics work on Captain Koromov? She should be moved most gently?"
Roxanna nods slightly, but defers to her superior.
The last Jvrillian looks to Brisa, "Will you let me take him back to the Temple... and I'll let the Lady take your bi-... yours."
Brisa stares levelly at the Jvrillian for a long moment... then says deliberately, "Don't Jvrillians confiscate the profits of war?"
Trystan whispers softly from where he sits, "M'lady, we apologize for any disruption to the beauty of everyday life we might cause here."
Brisa says to the Atterans, "How do you want to move her? We do have horses here we could use?"
Maris looks up to Brisa and nods, "I know... Come, Roxanna, and you two lads, back to... my hospice."
Trystan nodnods to Maris, standing and dusting off his pants. Benedict nods quietly, sighing heavily. Roxanna says, "Horses wouldn't be a good idea, unless you could rig a sling between two of them. Sitting up is not recommended. Benedict, Trystan... help me carry her. Brisa, you stay ready."
Benedict nods to Roxanna, and helps Roxanna to lift Dandelion... Trystan throws his back into carrying, though if anyone cares to look closely at his weight distribution, he does show some signs of the 'nick' he got during the fight.
The Jvrillian takes a step forward, "Ya. But you'd have to kill me first."
Brisa laughs! then shakes her head amusedly, "You're a fool, Jvrillian. Go, you've been circling hopefully long enough over the dead." She turns, leaving the grave goods behind her, and nods to Roxanna, "Certainly."