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Reality Fault

Night in a Bordertown

    Morning was a handful of leagues away, Her visage now high above the Black Mountains. Many days have passed since Cragside and quiet Brementown, and less than a handful from the Noble Caravan gravesite. The horse's hooves kick up only a little dust, the ground cold and hard, the first hints of frost staining the surrounding hills. In and out of the huge sentry stones the road slips, their shadows cool. The entire ride is easy, slowly leaving the highlands, falling down into the rolling hills of the High Tarn.

Anuje glances at Romana occasionally. Benedict glances back the way the came now and then, for the most part keeping his thoughts to himself. With a clitter-clop their new companion rides quietly upon her tall, pale mare. A tall-collared cloak has been dragged from her chaotic collection of furs and gear, and Romana has drawn up its hood. Bright sapphire eyes peek out from its shadows and she is always turning, watching this, her attention then snared by that. She and her Dancer have settled into a comfortable position riding in the very middle of the little group. Brisa is riding peacefully as Khari ambles gently along, humming quietly to herself and looking around. She rather enjoys riding with bards -- music is so nice to have on the road! She finishes her humming, then nudges Khari's side gently so she jog-trots up to where Benedict rides. She smiles down at Benny on his horse, "How are your legs today? Toughening up, yes?"

Roxanna grins at Brisa. "Isn't exactly the legs that wear out." Brisa grins over at Roxanna, then turns her gaze back to Benny.

Benedict looks to Brisa, and sighs, wincing a little. "'Toughening up.' That's one way to put it, Brisa." He sighs, wincing again and rubbing his leg. "How do you deal with it?"

Brisa grins, then looks away to politely hide it. When she looks back her expression is more smiling commiseration, "Happens to all, Benny, when they ride. You just toughen up. Legs get used to it." She's silent for a moment, then says gently, "Benny... you know why I turn you back towards road when we find Romana?" Anuje listens, glancing at Brisa and Benedict. Romana turns, her cloak snapping, at the sound of her name.

Benedict looks to Brisa, and sighs. "I think so. Because I'm not all that helpful on a horse."

Brisa smiles and shakes her head slightly, "Is not just that, Benny. You know horses are pack animals, yes? Plains animals and runners? Well... they follow very well, especially when moving very fast. Takes a good rider to turn one when it follows another in a straight line." She pauses, then quietly adds, "Your horse was on straight line after Khari, straight towards forest. Khari is well-trained... your horse does not know you yet, is not listening to you closely." Her voice is quietly rueful, "You know what would have happened if you had run straight on into forest, Benny?"

Benedict sighs again, closing his eyes. "As Romana said... the forest would have... eaten me."

Romana shakes her head at that. "Not... not that woods. Trees not hungry there, only riders beneaths, yes?"

Brisa says, "No... we would have scraped you off first low-hanging branch, Benny. You saw what happened to Easterner when horse went down, yes? Am thinking Dancer hitting briar patch probably saved her and Romana's life... otherwise when her hoof stuck in wagon wheel she'd have flipped, and probably broken her leg and maybe Romana's neck."

Benedict is quiet for a moment. "Brisa... do you want to know why I went off after Romana like I did?"

Brisa leans to rest her hand lightly on Benny's shoulder, "Benny... never do I doubt your courage. Am saying this just to show that some things I am better than you at... and some you better than I at. Am saying this... because I need your help in Bordertown. Library will not welcome such as I... but you will be able to come and go and research at your leisure."

Anuje says, "What are you looking for in the library, Brisa?"

Brisa glances up at Anuje, "Am searching for information on a poisoned well. Pretty sure it is in Bordertown area, but not exactly where. Not sure if it was around Second Age, or later, that legends should be written on it." Folding her hands upon her saddle's horn, Romana just listens. The morning breeze whips and snaps, and she brushes a stray bang from her eyes.

Roxanna says, "A fairly important well that was poisoned? Or just that someone important drank from it when it had been poisoned?"

Benedict looks quietly to Brisa at her touch, with a bit of a smile. "All throughout that little adventure in Cragside, when the Jvrillians were trying to skewer us in a dozen different ways... all I could do was watch and look. It's what I do, it's what Hastur and the Temple and what my calling tells me to do. In this case it wasn't enough." He sighs and looks around the trail. "The captain nearly died, a dozen Jvrillians and Hordesmen did die, and all I was able to do was watch." He looks back to Brisa. "I envy you, you know, any time we run into someone and they mutter under their breath 'swordb-' well, you know. You take their world, take what they think is the Truth, and turn it upside down. You've a freedom I don't have, Brisa, a freedom an Eye doesn't have, by way of training and calling." He looks back down the path. "I guess back there, even if I had no idea how to ride properly, I was hoping to have that same freedom, if but for a moment." Benedict is quiet for a moment, then looks back to Brisa. "I'll get you the information you need. And maybe... just maybe, I'll find what I'm looking for too."

Brisa thinks about that for a while... then shakes her head, "Not sure, Roxy. Could be both... all I know is my teacher thought it very important, but didn't know where it was. Am thinking this library maybe can tell us that." She looks at Benedict, her head tilted, "Whatfor do you search, Benny?" At Benedict's further words she gently shakes Benedict's shoulder before releasing it, "No, you are wrong there, Benny. Is why I do not question your courage... you stood for what you believed in, even though it was not popular. You loaded crossbows and did not falter." She smiles, "Freedom isn't found on a horse, Benny... you find it inside you."

Anuje shakes her head. "Freedom is where you aren't kept against your will."

Brisa chuckles wryly, adding, "And if you think I always free am... well, yes, I suppose. Free like wild animal -- free to do whatever I want, but also to bear consequences of actions all myself... to be almost always with no one, no family at my back. New Jvrillians ride in packs for reason. Wild Dayallans ride alone or with one or two others usually... very used we are to watching always behind us and to avoiding towns." She grins, "Have you heard the tale of the country mouse and the city mouse, Benny?"

From her horse Romana softly chuckles and smiles. It is a friendly and gentle laugh. "Freedoms when Bennidicts are Bennidicts are Bennidicts."

Brisa nods, smiling, to Romana... then pauses in sudden thought, looking over the group slowly... Roxanna who fled Trundle-on-the-Hill, Anuje who fled... something, a marriage? -Benedict searching for his freedom... who knows what Trystan searches for... herself, always on the move. She laughs softly then, "Ah, I see now... we're all running for our freedom, in a way." She smiles quietly to herself -- and, of course, Romana, who flees the East and her father's Dark Friend.

"Just as long... " Romana nods wistfully, looking down the trail to the south. "...not runnings froms, but runnings to."

Benedict chews his lip a bit, thinking. Good questions. What am I searching for, now? And it's not like I can't trust them by now. "When I started," he says quietly, "I thought it was just as my Master had told me: to find what Khorall Linnell Allaine is doing." He shrugs a little. "It was one of the provisions he made to make me an Eye." He sighs. "Now... now I think he wanted me to see... to really see things. He knew I wanted to see the world outside the Temple. I think he wanted me to see... more than just the 'real world.' I think he wanted me to..." He shakes his head. "Maybe we'll find what we're both looking for in Bordertown."

Brisa goes still for a moment, her only movement the usual sway on horseback, studying Benedict silently... after a moment she murmurs quietly, "Wanted you to what, Benny?"

Roxanna smiles at Romana. "I've gotten caught up in things much deeper than escaping a town now. It seems almost like an old tale I heard... the hero saves his people, but at the cost of never being one of them again." Brisa gives Roxanna a startled look! -then turns back to regard Benedict thoughtfully.

Anuje smiles at Roxanna. "Sounds like a good tale."

Roxanna says, "Long and complex, and probably not true. Sometime when we're not busy, perhaps."

Anuje nods. "I'll hold you to it."

Brisa watches Benedict quietly, curious as to his answer. Benedict glances to Brisa, smiling a little. "I'm not sure. I'll know when I see it. It's what Eyes do best, I suppose." And tell them I'm having thoughts completely against my teachings in the Temple and the Empire? I can't do that... not yet. At the very least, that would probably be the quickest way to loose Hastur's favor -- for him to hear one of his Eyes telling anyone about doubts about his faith.

Brisa smiles quietly, "Good luck finding it, Benny. Actually, I previously meant what did you think your mentor want you to do? You didn't finish that sentence."

Benedict blinks, "Oh... I'm not sure, actually, Brisa. I'm really not sure, at least, not yet."

Brisa tilts her head, gazing into the distance as she thinks, "Well... traveling to Dawnview would at least give you lot of experience with harsh realities of life, am thinking... especially if you got stuck there during winter."

Benedict smiles tightly. "Of that I've no doubt, actually."

Brisa gives Benedict a thoughtful glance, "You sound... not excited over this." She's silent for a moment, still thinking... then shrugs. He must walk his own path, even if he travels for a while with friends. Everyone else seems fine... road is clear... she glances gaugingly at Romana -- hair loose around the ears, cloak collar up... will she pass for non-Eastern? Brisa hopes so. She smiles, "Anyways. Dinner at Bordertown soon, da?"

    Her light was already casting shadows across the rolling hills, streaks of darkness crisscrossing in a broken unintelligible pattern. But only halfway down the western sky She is when the sight of Bordertown rises over the scattered trees and tumbled rocks. Squares within squares the town is, slate and tile roofs with dirt and cobbled streets bound by a formal and regular town wall. Wooden hoardings crown the crenellated walkways, battered and worn. Portions are ragged bright, others charcoal black, silently watching over the approach.

    As the travelers wind down the hills they join the queue into the town's gates. Farmer's carts and lowing cows, children rubbing dusty cheeks or chasing each other between hoof and wheel. Merchant wagons move slowly, their wares a jingling and clattering with each slow motion. The guard house is tall and dark, its watchers stern and grim. They collect a handful of coin for entrance to Bordertown, most with only a cursory glance. Their horses bear a green stripe and three green dots, matching the pennants upon their tall spears.

    "Michael's in town..." One of them speaks dryly to another as Khari passes beneath the gate and through the portcullis.

    "Ay-yah..." answers his companion.

    "Five crown by the Her fall tomorrow."

    Inside the streets are hard packed dirt, warehouses and shops lining both sides. No roof is taller than the town wall, and a tavern awaits to greet those coming off the Road East. The Eastern Gate Inn and Tavern has a bright brand new shingle. The tavern itself is worse for wear, its half timbering recently repaired and showing a history of fire. Further down the street opens up, paved with fine cut stones, and a tall, almost fortress-like building dominating the square. A banner with a smiling dragon looks down over the little plaza and its central well. And last, framed by the valley of the street at the far end of the road and beyond the far gate, a tall rubbled hill rises in a smashed pyramid, a broken collection of rock and underbrush. At its peak wraps the ruin of a wall and a single newer, lonely tower rises high.

Benedict looks around quietly. "It's like a city under siege, not that I've ever seen one," he murmurs quietly to his companions.

Anuje's eyes flick about, trying to take everything in. She urges her horse over to Khari. "Brisa... have we got crowns?"

Brisa doesn't react to the guards' commentary... but once past the gate her gaze is wary, sweeping around her small group frequently. She eyes the tavern dubiously... then looks back at her friends. Several days' ride has most of them drooping in the saddle... looks like the tavern then. She smiles at Anuje, "We have some, da, kis- uh, Anuje." She hms, tapping her fingers lightly on her pommel at the horsemarks. She murmurs thoughtfully under her breath, "Donnor's Swords, maybe?" She looks at Benedict, "Benny, know you who leads Donnor's swords, or who the smiling dragon is of?"

The little group works through the late afternoon streetscape. To the right the buildings echo with the echo of hammers on harsh metal. To the left are small shops. An outfitter or two, a cobbler, coopers, wheelwrights and a full fledged cartwright shop. The streets are crowded now, but they appear to be thinning as the sun slowly falls. The little group is given more than a little attention. But one can't tell whether it's Brisa's fault or simply too many ladies all alone and travel worn.

Brisa says, "Wonder if the tower is the old library..."

Anuje frowns. "I shoulda 'changed' before we got here." Brisa wordlessly hands her cloak to Anuje. Anuje blinks and takes the cloak, wrapping it around her shoulders.

Benedict shakes his head quietly. "No idea, Brisa, I'm sorry. But the smiling dragon should be the Dragonstooth tavern."

Brisa nods, "Any idea of costs? For wintering am thinking we want a reasonable price."

Romana wistfully whispers, "Dragontooths..."

Benedict says, "Well... the Dragonstooth's a little expensive. We should be able to afford it, though."

Brisa gives Romana a startled glance -- she's been quiet enough to forget, really. She looks back at Benedict, frowning thoughtfully, "You know of any others? Am thinking Dragonstooth will be where wealthy merchants and snobby bodyguards and Jvrillians gather... am not interested in fighting all through winter with insecure men." Her small smile is only a bit amused... mostly tired.

Benedict says, "Well, there's the Eastern Gate Inn and Tavern...."

Roxanna says, "Even if we try to pass you off as my bodyguard, wouldn't be that much fun. And what if someone decides to hit on Romana?"

Anuje glances at Romana. "That doesn't mean like what it sounds, Romana."

Brisa smiles quietly at Roxanna, "In a way already am bodyguard of all of you, Roxy... and would tell the masher to push off politely at first, of course."

"Hit Romanas? Poke with daggers then. Romanas not like hit. Black blue, bad for... me." The tall lady shakes her head back and forth.

Brisa grins at Romana, "It's a um... phrase that means be interested in sex with, Rommishk- er, Romana." She nods to Benedict and grins, "Well, if those are only choices... we look at both, da? See what we think, who there? You willing to walk in with me, Benny?"

The newcomer simply shrugs, "Depends how handsome is... " But then she gathers up her reins, and flashes a daring wink across the little group, "Like Bennidicts, yes?"

Brisa laughs at Romana's comment! Benedict nods, "Certainly, Brisa, I-" He blinks suddenly and splutters his next words to unintelligibility at Romana's words.

Brisa blinks and grins ruefully to herself, struck with a sudden very strange thought... can human and Easterner interbreed?! She grins at Benny, "Da, we do so then... first the Dragonstooth, then the Eastern Gate?" Clapping her hands delightfully, Romana pushes Dancer forward and follows Brisa.

Benedict says, "Erm... uhm, certainly. Dragonstooth has a good reputation..."

Anuje smirks. Brisa nods solemnly to Benedict, allowing no hint of teasing to cross her demeanor, "Da, Benny... reputation is so important..." Brisa has trouble hiding the immediate grin after that, though!

Benedict glances over to Brisa and takes in a deep breath. "Ah... right..." A matching smile crosses Romana's face as she passes Benedict, tossing her head delightfully as she does.

Brisa eyes the group thoughtfully... might as well take everyone in. She pulls up at the Dragonstooth and dismounts... she keeps an eye on her dismounting friends, looking for the telltale signs of someone whose legs are going to give out suddenly and startlingly when they hit ground -- she'll give them the moment's support they need to get their feet under them again. Benedict slides off of his horse, wincing and rubbing his legs through his robes. Brisa smiles sympathetically at Benedict, "If you want, have some very stinky but heating liniment you can borrow tonight?"

Anuje slides from her mount and leans against her for a few moments. "Ow... I'm gonna be sore for a week." Roxanna gets down, a bit stiffly but not in serious pain.

Brisa grins at Anuje, "Gets better, kisa, promise. Here... land on toes more than heels, da? Toes bounce better -- heel shock makes legs go numb for second or two... and is worse when cold."

Benedict comments to Anuje, "You and me both."

Brisa chuckles, "Come, we will check the Dragonstooth out, da?" She adds with a sly grin, "Will be warm inside?"

Benedict says, "At the very least, certainly..."

    As one approaches the center of the town the earth-packed ground gives way to cobbles and then to large, perfectly fitted paving stones. They wrap around the town well. The well itself is old gray stone, a simple ring solidly carven. Old worn runs wrap about it circumference. A circle, the waves of water and the jagged angles of a horse.

    The tall tavern rises two stories, a strong rectangular block. There are no windows on the first floor, save for narrow slots in a regular cadence. Set into the side of the building is a stairway leading up to a second floor porch. Soldiers and merchants look out across the plaza. The horses tied up outside bear a black and red checkerboard, some a set of deep green stripes.

Brisa pauses to nod to the well quietly, then gets ready to head inside with her friends, looking around warily. Looks like a lot of Jvrillians will be inside... she sighs softly internally. Benedict asks quietly of the others, "Do you recognize those colors?"

Brisa says, "Jake Mohlkavin's horse, Benny." Anuje walks a bit stiffly and tries walking on her toes as Brisa suggested, feeling awkward doing it, though. Brisa smiles to Anuje, "Nyeh, kisa, just to dismount."

Anuje glances at Brisa and stops, looking sheepish. "Too late, though."

Brisa smiles, "Only for this time, Anuje. Next time you'll be ready, da? and it won't hurt."

Brisa nods to Benedict, "So... we go, da?" She opens the door for Benedict... she did say she'd walk in with him.

Benedict nods quietly. "All right. We weren't on the Jvrillians' list of friends at Cragside..." He blinks as Brisa holds the door open for him, then decides he's not going to quibble about it! He steps into the inn. Brisa follows quietly, her gaze still wary.

Anuje walks over to Romana and speaks softly to her, "Don't flip your hair too, much, Romana. Your ears are different."

Roxanna nods. "Very good advice." She looks around the square, wondering if there is an Atteran temple in this town.

Anuje says, "'No kidding... especially after Cragside." She nods towards the well and speaks quietly to Roxanna. "You think that's the well Brisa spoke about?"

Roxanna says, "No idea. It's an old one, though." Outside a few goodwives pull their last buckets of water from the well. A pair sit on the stone rim, talking of chores and their men's work.

Anuje hmms. "Guess not." She grins. Roxanna motions the others to stay with the horses and goes over to the well to talk to the women. Anuje gathers up reins if the horses look inclined to wander. Khari takes the opportunity to check Anuje's belt pouches for delicacies. Anuje hmms and fishes in that section of saddlebags where Brisa keeps treats for Khari.

"...cor, Kaelin, lassies have been trying to snare 'im for nigh long five winters, an' while some 'ave gotten close no one..." At the well one of the goodwives looks up. She taps her full bucket. "Ye look travelworn, Lady, care for a handful of water? It's cool and nice."

Anuje takes her hand out of the bag. "Well... I'd love to give you something, Khari... but I should probably ask Brisa first." She reaches up and rubs Khari's head, below her eyes and above her nose. Khari sighs gustily, her eyes half closing and her ears flopping out comically at angles.

Roxanna says, "Thank you, goodwife." She takes a drink. "And how are you today?"

The woman is older, her figure sculpted from a life of hard work. She is dressed in rugged linen tunics, a bit of trim racing around her collar. "It fares well, a five night quiet, a blessing it be."

Roxanna nods. "Quiet is always a blessing. Is it often otherwise?"

Looking back over her shoulder to the east, the goodwife frowns. "Came from the forest again they did, a handful and two day ago. But again, again the men drove the raiders back into their cursed woods. And since they did nae return we be hoping it be their last try until after Firstday."

Roxanna frowns, looking back to the East herself for a moment. "Were any hurt?"

"Course, many... Lally lost her man, and so did Jaena and Mhara and Gwen. Many were hurt..." The lady looks idly down. "Poor Lady Kay, I donnae think she got any sleep coming down to the guildhall each and every day."

Roxanna looks disturbed. "There is no Hospice here?"

Shaking her head, the goodwife looks beyond Roxanna. Her gaze rises to the tall terraces of rubble and stone, rising beyond the south side of town. "Oh, of course not. She's got to be taking care of her brother, of course. Lord Random, in his tower out on the hill."

Roxanna says, "She?"

Blinking, the goodwife looks back, "Lady Kay."

Roxanna says, "Oh, of course. Thank you." After a moment she continues. "If there are any still hurt I will be glad to help. My companions and I were thinking of wintering here."

"Wintering here? Then make sure you find a good laddie to keep ye company. Bordertown is known for its fine Midwinter's festival..." The goodwife smiles very companionably, "Just cold enough to frost the ground till noon, but not cold enough for snow like in the mountains. Ye will like it, I'll lay crowns for stars."

Roxanna smiles. "Well, maybe just for company for the festival. Where would you suggest we look for lodging for the winter?"

The goodwife points up to the big tavern, "Finest place in town, if'n ye 'ave tha coin. Safest too, and most respectable."


    The tavern itself is crowded. A short man shaped like a sturdy barrel tends the bar, his voice loud and boisterous. The tables all match, and a pair of very well dressed girls carry buckets and mugs, that and the evening's meal. Merchants and mercenaries seem to be the primary trade. And there behind the bar is what seems to be a huge jawbone, below which are racked row upon row of kegs and barrels. A single ivory tooth pokes out, a solitary fang.

    Soft afternoon light washes across the commons of the Dragonstooth Inn. No trailside hall is this. Instead it is light and airy, slender marble columns rising up to heavy timber rafters. The light falls in from a tall arcade where a second balcony overlooks a central courtyard. Banners of all sorts hang from the walls. Many sport the checkerboards of the horses below, though some bear more Noble patterns. The tools of a soldier's trade line the walls, shield and old spears, a sword or two here and there.

Brisa's eyes widen at the jawbone... then she smiles slowly. What a quest that must have been! Benedict also sees the jawbone and glances to Brisa, seeing her smile. "Do you know what sort of creature that used to belong to?"

Brisa grins at Benedict and ventures, "A dragon?" Benedict blinks, looking again at the jawbone with renewed interest and respect. Brisa says, "Not sure, Benny, really." She nods at the barkeep, "There... ask him for price for wintering for 6 people?"

Benedict squints a little closer at the jaw... then blinks a little and makes a tiny sound of interest, then glances to Brisa and nods. "Sure." He makes his way through the crowd to the bar, not trying to seem pushy, and when he manages to get the bartender's attention asks, "Excuse me. We've a party of six with horses and we were wondering how much to winter us?" Brisa follows Benedict quietly.

The big little man raises one eyebrow as he slides a tall mug of ale down the polished countertop. "Ho well, laddie, ye be thinking of staying here? I hope ye have crown worth your age. Till the springtime comes, here? Food and board and beds made of feather..." He looks past Benedict then, to Brisa, his expression darkening.

rat-a-tap-tap-tap! As the barkeep's expression falls, down at the end of the bar a man in rugged green drums his fingers upon the bar. "Aw, come on, Captain sir. You know that one's going to just bring down all sorts of trouble. Everyone knows how Michael feels about them." The man says nothing to the barkeep's words, just drums his fingers again, rat-a-tap-tap-tap! The barkeep takes a breath. "It's four hundred then, for a room. Another two for a stable stall. That includes a breakfast, all your baths, and all you can be drinking come Midwinter's, as long as it's beer of my choosing."

Brisa looks quietly at the man in green, down the bar... this fight's not going to be avoided, she knows. Softly, coolly she says, "Poor Michael." She looks back at Benedict, "We check the other one now, da?"

Benedict's jaw works a little, glancing down the bar at the man briefly before looking back at the barkeep. "I see," he says quietly.

Brisa rests a hand on Benny's shoulder lightly, "Let's go tell our friends, Benny, da?"

Benedict looks up to Brisa, and nods. "That's a good idea. Best not to decide without them." He nods his thanks to the bartender, then steps towards the door, folding his hands in the sleeves of his robes.

Brisa grins at the man in green, "Nasty twitch you got there, gospodin," then follows Benedict out.

" Bririgi saybya but' zdarof..." is his answer. He shakes his head once as Brisa leaves.

Brisa grins as she exits, "Ha, Khari, working your wiles on poor Anuje, eh?"

Anuje grins at Brisa. "She's a pretty thing."

Brisa starts, straightening suddenly... then whips around to stare in astonishment at the door of the inn. She looks back almost absently, turning slowly... then at Anuje's words she grins proudly, gently and companionably slapping one strong gray shoulder, "That she is... she's a true lady." She looks over at where Roxy talks with the women by the well, then back at Anuje, "We check out the remaining inn. Want a hand up, or want to lead your horse?"

Benedict blinks and looks at Brisa. "What is it?"

Brisa says, "Uh... was something the man inside said, Benny. Took me a minute to translate it." She frowns in puzzlement, "Think he was... being pleasant...?"

Anuje looks dubiously up at her horse. "Walk in pain or ride in pain... hmm. I think I'll walk." Anuje's horse looks down and just whuffles.

Brisa grins at Anuje, "Legs will feel better with workout. Good choice."

Benedict blinks. "Pleasant? With regards to you? No offense, Brisa, but usually big tough fighter-like men tend to have less-than-pleasant things to say about you."

Brisa will give a boost up to any tired riders that could use a hand, then gathers up Khari's reins and mount easily, with a creak of leather from her saddle. She nods down at Benedict thoughtfully, "Da. Very curious, eh?"

Benedict pulls himself up onto his horse, nodding. "That it is." He grins to her. "Maybe there are actually some out there who've managed to see beyond that." Anuje takes her horse's reins and follows Brisa and Khari.

Brisa says, "Don't know, Benny." She turns Khari for the Eastern Gate, "Would be nice, though, da? Will try to remember his face." She waters the horses, watching Roxanna idly.

Anuje continues to rub Khari and asks Romana. "Have you had Dancer long, Romana?"

Romana reaches down to stroke her horse's neck, a slow and simple motion. She smiles, just the touch of warm fur beneath her palm a sensual pleasure. "Dancer... mine... since coltishness. Father, Father not let... me... anywheres... but never no, when wishes."

Anuje smiles. "She's quite a horse, too."

Smiling brightly, Romana nods her head, her hood slipping almost halfway off. "Roman... I... think so too. Fast Dancer runs, like wind through towers, like spinning in fine palace hall."

Anuje chews her lip. "Romana... please be careful. Instead of 'wind through towers' try... mm, 'wind through a mountain pass'. And I think mentioning anything about a palace may raise a few questions."

Nodding again Romana crosses her arms, looking very determined for a moment. But the moment doesn't last, and she leans back in her saddle and just streeeeeeeeeeeetches. And when she recollects herself, she looks down to Anuje. "How far is... are... be... is... you traveling, now?"

Anuje hmms. "I really hadn't thought about it. I was hoping to try and get along better in Cragside... but that didn't last."

Romana nods, "Maybe see seas?"

Anuje hmms. "Really? Have you seen them?"

Letting out a long, long sigh, Romana looks wistfully west. "Only... no. Never seen sea, never seen water all the way as far as can see."

Anuje smiles. "Maybe we'll get to see it." She glances over to where Roxanna is talking with the women at the well.

Roxanna nods and makes a note of the woman's recommendation as to a place to stay. "Well, thank you. I'm sure I'll see you all again." She waves and walks back to her companions. Trystan gives a warm, 'well, what did you think?' look to Roxanna, who says, "Well, the locals recommend this place. How expensive is it, Brisa?"

Brisa has a slightly distracted, thoughtful look, but answers readily, "Four hundred a room, two hundred per stall for the winter. Some added stuff about food as well."

Roxanna says, "That... is a lot. Even if we double up."

Trystan chuckles softly to his companions, "Maybe... with a few stories during dinner, we might even be able to get that price down a few notches..."

Brisa thinks, "All breakfasts, all baths, all the beer we want as long as he gets to chose it."

Benedict says, "It is a lot, but I did say it was expensive but good."

Roxanna says, "Can we afford it?"

Brisa nods quietly to Roxanna, "Well... it is for the entire storm season. Would you all like to wait here, and Khari and I will dash with Benny across to the eastern gate quickly to price it? Excuse me, all the beer at Midwinter's, I meant." She nods to Roxanna, "Oh, da." Benedict nods also.

Roxanna says, "Hmmm. I'm not sure we need to price the other one then. The locals think much more highly of this one."

Brisa waves a hand back at the tall pale horse sporting a pack currently, "We do need to sell this fellow as well... and maybe find a good farrier, see if he will buy the Eastern coinage for metal weight."

Anuje hmms. "Sure we don't want to keep that one and sell a different one, Brisa?" Trystan quirks a questioning look toward Anuje.

Brisa nods to Roxanna, "All right then... if you'd like we stay here." She dismounts easily, then grins at Anuje, "Sell which, Anuje? Every horse we have was chosen with an eye towards gentleness. This boy we don't know at all. Well..." she straightens Khari's mane a bit, smiling, "-except my pretty lady here."

Anuje ohs. "Good point."

Brisa gathers up Khari's reins and the Eastern horse's lead, "So... to the barn, then we get rooms, da?"

Trystan sighs softly, his mind on thoughts of a room, a bath, and a draught of warm ale. "Treating ourselves well sounds like a good thing to this foolish bard."

Brisa heads for the barn with the tired horses. Anuje glances at the others and then follows Brisa. "Can I help out?"

Brisa smiles at Anuje, "Keep an eye out for an anvil and farriery tools, kisa. We need to hammer down some metal, I am thinking."

Trystan ohs, snapped from his thoughts by Anuje's words, "-and anything I can do to help out... just whistle, right?"

Brisa grins over her shoulder at Trystan, "Just bring your poor lad into the barn with the others, Trys."

Trystan chuckles, leaning to scritch the neck of his mount, "He's not that bad, is he? I thought he did quite well," turning his whisker-shadowed face to his horse, "-didn't ya, boy?"

Anuje nods. "I heard a smithy when we rode in... I bet I could arrange free use of his tools." She smiles.

Brisa says, "Da, that'd be fine indeed." She glances thoughtfully at Anuje upon a sudden thought, "And when this Michael laddy turns up, Anuje? -keep folks out of the way please, da?"

Anuje blinks. "Me?"

Brisa grins at Anuje as she paces quietly into the barn with the horses at her side, "Have a little faith in yourself, lass."

Trystan chuckles warmly to Anuje, smiling from ear to ear, "Aye, for within your heart beats the fire that would burn a thousand men."

Anuje blinks at Trystan and frowns a little. "M'not sure what you be meanin' by that, Trys."

Trystan chuckles, giving his hair a playful toss, "...bardic intuition," he says enigmatically. Brisa raises an amused eyebrow at that but doesn't say anything. Trystan chuckles, purring softly to himself as he sees to his mount's needs.

    The barn to the Dragon's tooth is through a huge set of wooden doors, each as sturdy as the town gates. They lead through a darkly shadowed portcullis into a largish courtyard. Inside the courtyard is small garden, benches to sit, with most filled with merchants in close conversation. A stair runs back up to the commons balcony, while a second set of doors lead to the stables proper. The stables are tucked around the inside perimeter of the tavern's first floor, with a triplet of lads gladly and competently taking the steeds to their rest.

Anuje tries to keep her eyes from popping out of her head as she looks around at the opulence. Brisa pats Khari as she hands over the reins, and makes sure the lads know that the pale gelding is for sale -- they'll know who's looking for horses. She grins quietly at Anuje, then heads for the inn. "So, me for a hot bath and hot food. Coming?"

Roxanna grins at Anuje. "Remember, boy... behave here."

Trystan can't help but show amazement at the attention to detail within this establishment either. Shaking his head with admiration, "...this is the stuff sung about in legends." He turns to the women, "Well chosen... well chosen indeed."

Anuje nods to Brisa. "Right behind you." Benedict looks around with a mildly surprised look. He's just never seen a inn quite like this. He knew the Dragonstooth was on the luxurious side, but he hadn't really any idea what that meant. Brisa opens the door into the inn's commons for everyone, then quietly follows... although the man in green gets a very curious look if he's still there.

Anuje takes Roxanna's cue and sidles up to Brisa and whispers, "Try not to call me kisa for awhile?"

Brisa blinks at Anuje, "I haven't, ki- uhlk-" she blinks again, then looks embarrassed, "Er, da."

The tavern quiets for a moment as the group steps inside. But just a heartbeat. Then it bustles back into business, the barmaids delivering a meal and a drink, the merchants crowing about who made the better trades this day. A well muscled man in black and red has joined the stranger in green, and the barkeep makes sure no mug goes unfilled. Romana follows up from behind, her pale eyes sparkling as she catches scent of good food and hears the clink of glass and crockery mugs. Trystan, hands on his hips, marvels. He leans in to Benedict, "A far cry from the monastic life, I imagine."

Benedict holds his breath for the moment they enter, but relaxes a lot when the tavern goes back to business. He grins to Trystan. "Juuuust a little," he says. Brisa listens quietly, looking around alertly... she's listening mostly for names, specifically Garrick or Jake Mohlkavin... and for whatever name the man in green is referred to by.

Trystan rubs his hands together, then flags a waitress over to the group even before they make their way across the floor. "Who would like a round, the first is on me." he says warmly to his companions. Brisa heads quietly for the bar to talk with the barkeep, glancing at the man in black and red... is his tunic checkered?

Trystan looks over to Benedict, Anuje, Roxanna, and with a look that says, 'you're probably too young, lass,' he skips over Romana in his question, "Something to take the parchment out of our throats from the journey?" He chuckles and smiles to Romana, "I bet they have some wonderful juices here too, young lady."

With a swirl of skirts wrapped about a daringly tight chemise, the young girl nods. "Five of the house beer, then, laddie. Find a table and they'll be right out." She gives the minstrel a nod and wink as she sashays towards the bar.

Trystan chuckles to no one in particular, "I think I like this place."

Anuje nods. "It's pretty... uhm pretty amazing."

Roxanna says, "Try not to get spoiled."

Trystan chuckles dramatically, "Who, me?"

The barkeep smiles as Brisa returns. It is a forced smile, but a single glance from the man in green is enough to set him straight. "Well... ma'am... have ye chosen to be staying?"

Brisa says, "Da, spacebo. When is payment wanted?" She nods once, politely, to the man in green, but no more. No need to gain him accusations of being a swordbitch lover.

The barkeep nods. "A bit now, a bit the day after Midwinter's, and the rest settled the day ye leave. And if'n ye be needing anything... ma'am, just ask for me, Hurricane Keegan... or that's Mordyn in the red skirt and her friend Reveka thereabouts."

Brisa nods and quietly pays a third now, counting it out carefully and pushing it over to the barkeep. She'll settle accounts with the others later. When she's done she looks up and waves generally in the direction of her group, "The Hasturian Eye is looking for a Captain Garrick of Bordertown, to ask about the Fair Folk. Would you know this man?" Benedict takes that as a cue of sorts, approaching Brisa and the barkeep, doing his best to look as somber as his Master. A little unexpected, but good thinking, Brisa, he thinks.

The barkeeps carefully collects his cash, not bothering to count it at this time. "That's him right there at the end, next to Jake Mohlkavin. Your friend in Bordertown's green." Anuje glances surreptitiously over at the pair.

Brisa stares at the barkeep steadily, then says calmly, "I have not met the gospodin before, but he seems so far a courteous man. You have a problem with courtesy?"

Keegan nods and looks back, "Look, ye could be an ugly old hag with fangs a league long and if you had the crown you'd be welcome to stay here. But Michael find out, and he's bound to know by now, I don't cotton to no trouble in my tavern. And Captain Garrick, well, who am I to say no to the Captain of the town guard. He and Captain Mohlkavin, they are the rocks that break the Riders. But we can't afford to lose the Mark, either."

Brisa nods quietly, "Then you make sure things are comfortable here for my friends... and I'll try to keep trouble out of your tavern, da?" She turns to Benedict, "See those two gospodin, Benny? the one in green is Captain Garrick, the one in black and red Captain Jake Mohlkavin." She has a troubled expression, but says nothing about it for the moment.

Benedict frowns and steps forward. He says quietly, "Sir... I don't think there'll be any trouble here. You won't have to worry about us being the cause of any... altercations." He looks to Brisa, then glances at the two men, then nods back to Brisa.

Brisa also glances at the two men... then back at Benny and smiles a little wearily, "Perhaps dinner and a drink first, da?" She suspects to herself that until Michael's turned up and done his pawing-the-ground-and-snorting routine that it will be difficult to get the two captains to talk around her... and she'd very much like to listen in if Benedict doesn't mind. For the moment Brisa's attention goes unobserved, the two men talking quietly, their fingers tracing patterns on the countertop. At least she believes her attention goes unobserved. She heads back for the table, flagging one of the girls down long enough for Benedict and her to place a food order... once back at the table she settles down tiredly, stretching her long legs out carefully so she doesn't kick anyone. She'll tap Benedict's shoulder lightly to get him to lean towards her, then murmurs softly so passers-by can't hear, "You remember the courier Rhys, right, Benny? He said those two were the ones to talk to about attacks by the Fair Folk, between here and Silk Creek."

Benedict ahs, and nods, "That's right. I'd almost forgotten about that."

Trystan assumes a 'bumpkin-ish' accent he's heard on his travels, "Ah-m jus' a poo-boy from the fores'. Hahn't evah been treated this good 'forah." He degrades into a chuckle and a gesture, "No. I'm actually not really pulled in by the material side of things... well, not that much anyway... it is just fun to see how the 'other side' lives from time to time," he ends in a sheepish smile.

Roxanna snickers. "It does seem like a nice place."

Half a dozen heartbeats later Mordyn swirls back, the hems of her skirts brushing Anuje's legs. She sets a big wooden bucket on the table, setting six crockery mugs down next to it. "There's ye drink, laddie and lassies. Ye be wanting a bite to eat? They've brought in a hart this morning, plus some duck from Gregory's Town, besides Laci's stew."

Trystan whispers to Benedict, "Heart? Yuck, eh?"

Roxanna says, "Duck for me, I think. What about the rest of you?"

Anuje smiles and slaps the table. "I'll have the hart. Thank ya, miss."

Trystan nods in agreement with Roxanna, "Duck sounds just ravishing to me as well."

"Duck it be..." And answering the summons of another table the black-maned girl spins away.

Benedict nods, smiling quietly, "That would be best, I think. It's been a long trip." Trystan mm-hmms at the thought of food first. Anuje is careful to ogle the women as much as any of the other men in the bar.

Romana looks up from her mug of beer, her gaze idly drifting about the tavern, tarrying upon the two who were the subject of Brisa's attention. Then she takes a drink. A long long drink, her head falling back as she does, almost draining her mug. And when she sets it down she blinks, smiles, and brushes her lips with the back of her hand. "Resting, safe and sounds, yes?"

Brisa snaps her fingers suddenly, "Mark! That's who he is... Michael's Dark Mark." She shakes her head quietly, "Now... who are the Riders that come from the forest... that'd be the bandits, I'm thinking?"

Looking across the table, Romana nods, "His men."

Benedict blinks. "Bandits... perhaps, yes..."

Brisa gives Romana a curious glance, murmuring softly, "I'm thinking sometimes it sounds like you mean the covener lord... and sometimes an Eastern one. Which is it?"

Anuje watches Romana and grins. She picks up her own mug and manages to do a passable imitation. She blinks a little afterwards though. Brisa grins at Anuje, "On an empty stomach, ki- Anuje? Best have some bread, eh?" Roxanna sips her beer, much more sedately.

Anuje grins and nods. "A fair idea."

Leaning forward, Romana whispers, quiet and serious. "... One of His whose scarf runs bloody red..."

Trystan coughs into his beer. Brisa nods quietly, making a 'shh' gesture with one hand, palm down, "Spacebo, Romana, no more here."

Roxanna looks around. "But useful information, though."

Brisa frowns into her mug, thinking... then looks up at her companions, "I am thinking would be foolishness to attack in storm season, but then am also thinking the Rothian Riders aren't known for wisdom... you all realize we may be attacked this winter, da?" She glances at Trystan as she speaks.

Anuje nods. "I'll try not to get stabbed this time."

Benedict says softly and wryly, "We seem to be attractors of trouble of that sort." Brisa chuckles dryly at the comments.

Trystan sighs softly, over the lip of his mug, "I was hoping for something a bit less... exciting, per se."

Roxanna says, "So we'll stay in our rooms and not attract attention?"

Brisa gives Trystan a faintly sympathetic glance... then grins at Roxanna, "Oh, da, gospazha, and you'd crown me with a chair if I tried telling you to do that!"

Roxanna grins. "But I don't get into fights with random warriors." Anuje takes some bread and offers it to Trystan and Roxanna next to her before breaking off piece for herself.

Brisa looks chagrined, "Nor would I if I could figure out how!"

Trystan blushes, picking at something floating in his beer, "...but 'tis adventure that is the stuff songs are sung about, no?"

As their conversation continues a round of platters are delivered. From behind Mordyn sets out a plate full of meat laden with a gravy rich in spices. Bread and cheese are set on each plate. She takes her time; a daring hand tarries across Anuje's and Trystan's shoulders as she passes. But then like a memory she is gone. Romana certainly doesn't notice. Like a child, so enthused, she snares up her haunch of duck with both hands and takes a mighty bite. Her eyes close. "...mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm... Trystan chuckles, blushing and following Mordyn with his eyes as she recedes, shaking his head with a smile. He makes no pretensions about diving into his meal. Anuje's eyes follow Mordyn for a moment after she leaves, an eyebrow lifted. She turns back to the table and grins. "Well..."

Brisa grins at Romana, then digs in with gusto on her own slice of hart, plus bread and cheese, although she eats a bit more tidily with her dagger. Roxanna smiles. "But for now, let's eat!" Brisa eats lightly, in the expectation of trouble later. Anuje uses the manners of other men already in the room as her guide to how fastidious she'll be about the meal. Benedict smiles quietly and starts digging into the food before him, eagerly and hungrily but a bit reservedly -- it's hard to wolf down food when one is even mildly nervous. Roxanna is going to relax after all those days on the trail, no matter what. Brisa glances at the absorbed Benedict and the blushing Trystan... then grins quietly to herself. As their meal continues, the tavern slowly starts to fill. The tall man in black and red takes his leave, heading down to the inner courtyard...

Anuje nudges Trystan with her elbow and grins. "I'll leave her to you, good man." Brisa glances at Anuje -- then almost chokes on her mouthful of food!

Trystan, swallowing hard to clear a mouthful of duck and washing it down with a swig of beer, notices, "Heeey, that's not heart. I've seen heart before, and that looks like... like venison." He chortles to Anuje, "Aye... but she sure seemed to be fascinated by you... laddie."

Anuje laughs a well-practiced male laugh and shakes her head. "Oh... maybe, but I'm sure her eyes were for you."

Trystan elbows Anuje playfully, "Ooh no... far be it for me to deprive one so young of his first conquest." He grins.

Brisa rolls her eyes, "Let's not overdo this, shall we... boys?"

Anuje grins and takes a drink. "I might'n be young, but I've had me share. You, though... look a little pale, I think."

Trystan giggles into his meal, then examines a bit of white meat on the tip of his dagger, "The ways of the world run differently for those who hear the rhythm of the rise and fall of the sun, the moon; and we are not so easy to de-tangle of our ways." Anuje looks at Trystan oddly before returning to her own meal.

Brisa gives Trystan an amused glance, "You're talking your beer again, Trys."

Looking up from her meal, Romana pauses. She so very slowly licks her lip, stealing away the last traces of the spicy gravy. She looks to Benedict... then Anuje... then Trystan... and then, with a so coquettish wink, just smacks her lips. "Depends on how hungrys, yes, Trystans?"

Trystan throws back his head in a hearty laugh and warmly slaps Anuje on the back. He beams, "And the quality of the meal, good Romana, and the quality of the meal!"

Brisa eats quietly and steadily, still watching the room and the ebbs and flows of people alertly. Anuje thinks for a moment and then blushes, quickly hiding it behind her glass as she takes a drink. Brisa also watches Captain Garrick quietly... she can't wave him over visibly without causing a stir he may not want, but perhaps if he looks their way she can quietly indicate that he's welcome to join them if he wants.

Trystan grins, "As far as lovers... I've had my share..." he points to each around the table, grinning with light mischievousness, "-and your share... and yours and yours... and let me tell you... a warm bed is nothing compared to a beautiful soul. Remember that now. Right?"

Brisa gives Trystan an amusedly exasperated glance, "Welcome you are to my share, silly boy."

Trystan looks Brisa thoughtfully up and down, "Dunno... I'd think your share'd out-class this humble bard ten-to-one, though I'd be sure willing to try."

Anuje lifts her knife with a piece of meat stabbed on it and smirks. "That would be a sight."

And once their meal is done it is Benedict's turn for the lingering brush as Mordyn steals away the wooden platters. As for the captain, after a bit it is easy to catch his attention. For a little later he turns around, his back to the bar, watching the tavern just as Brisa does. Gathering up his mug, he crosses the bar, drawing up a chair of his own. "Just in today, I believe, yes?"

Brisa gives Trystan a blankly astonished glance -- he should know better than that, surely! -- then turns and nods to Captain Garrick, "Welcome, sit if you will. Da, just in."

Trystan nods over a dreadfully light tankard, "A man with much more wisdom than I could ever hope to accumulate in my over-short life."

Anuje glances at Trystan. "Hmm... are you just being poetic or are you quite gone?"

Brisa snorts amusedly, "Gone, am thinking."

Trystan hmms playfully at Anuje, "Hmmm? I'm a bard." With a blushing, helpless shrug he continues emphatically, "It's my job." He winks at Brisa knowingly, then tries to catch the eye of the barkeep for a refill.

Anuje grins. "Job to get gone? Or job to get poetically gone?" She takes a drink of her own.

Trystan laughs, ending in a bit of a snort, "Both. Remember... this round is on me... oh... well, this round is on me too, and you, gentle lord, are welcome in this round as well, to be so kind as to join us, shed light on us with your presence." He hums a snippet of a ballad under his breath.

Placing his of mug on the table, the rugged swordsman rests both arms on the table. Perhaps six feet, maybe more, he has a sharply cut mane of thick black hair which frames a nicely carven face. His tunics are in two shades of green, trimmed and bejeweled to show a practical manner of wealth. At his side is a heavy black sword. "Garrick. Captain Garrick to most folks, being that I keep the peace in the town and in general make sure things go well 'tween council and guild."

Anuje has only drunk her tankard to half and then only pretends to drink from it. She is sure she can't afford to get as drunk as Trystan. She stares quietly at Garrick when he arrives at the table. Trystan raises his eyebrows, impressed at the sight of Garrick; perhaps remembering his image for a story or a song in the future, perhaps just admiring the view. He bows his head lightly, "It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord." He extends a hand, open and warm across the table, somehow avoiding the tankards there, "I am at your service."

Brisa glances at Garrick curiously, noticing the signs of living both well and hard, and nods politely... this seems, at least so far, like a good man to have at one's back during conflict. She pauses, thinking, then speaks quietly and questioningly, in a somewhat guttural tongue to the captain, "Kakym obrazon dalyna'razgavarivat?" She blinks, suddenly realizing the words she's speaking sound... somewhat like... Eastern?! She glances at Romana startledly, wondering if she understood any of that.

Anuje taps on Trystan's shoulder. "Did you catch that?"

Trystan shakes his head, "No... I'm afraid it went over my head. Did you?"

With a flash of sapphire eyes Romana simply says, "Romana."

Garrick looks across to Trystan and nods, taking the offered hand for one firm shake. He nods in acknowledgement to Romana, "Mi'lady..." and... and he pauses, giving Anuje a true and long look, "...mi'lady..." To Brisa he shrugs in a friendly manner. "A winter with Captain Dandelion Koromov a few years back."

Brisa nods quietly, "Ah. That explains a lot." She studies her drink quietly for a moment, then looks up, "And what might be Michael's problem? Would you know that also?" Anuje curses quietly. Trystan chuckles, elbowing Anuje playfully. Brisa gives Anuje a sympathetic glance, "You could go change now if you wanted to... and give me the cloak back when you return?"

Taking a sip of his wine, Garrick nods, "I am certainly not stupid enough to turn down the Horde's aid with them on my doorstep. As for Michael and his Mark? What does Jake say... he says they are... conservative. That, coming from him, that's Jake Mohlkavin of the Heavy Horse, is almost frightening. And Michael's problem is that he is good, and he knows it."

Trystan singsongs quietly to Anuje, "I think he likes you."

Brisa glances at Trystan sharply, "Trys... not here." Trystan dips his head apologetically. Anuje blushes and excuses herself, heading up to the rooms. Trystan clears his throat and dons an attentive role with uneasy suddenness. Brisa glances back at Garrick and shrugs, "Shto, so he's good. It happens. And the Riders? Do you know who they are?"

The Captain nods. "Listen to your friend, Minstrel. The fact she's here means she knows when not to be... sloppy. As for your companion, I'd keep... him... farther away from Michael than you. He has... brutal tastes."

Brisa looks faintly disgusted... then sighs, "Well... battle makes strange bedfellows of us all, I suppose." She chews on her bread unhappily, swallows, then tilts her head at the captain, "So... about the Riders...?"

Trystan nods a sharp apology, "I am sorry. To appear... open, inviting, even vulnerable is part of the profession. I won't let it get in the way."

Frowning, Garrick shakes his head. "Our own little nest of Hellswords."

Brisa studies her drink puzzledly, then looks back at the captain, "Any idea why they're here, attacking Bordertown of all places, instead of in the East where they belong?" Anuje returns after a bit. She hands the folded cloak to Brisa. Her own disguise is complete again, no sign of her femininity showing to anyone who doesn't know what to look for... or to look for it. Brisa gives Anuje a careful checking-over look... then nods, accepting the cloak, "Spacebo." Anuje nods to the Captain and resumes her seat at the table. Trystan folds his hands in front of him. Romana opens her mouth. And then shuts it tight. She then stretches, almost theatrically, and folding her arms upon the table lays her head down upon them, her eyes slowly closing. Her long black hair spills across the wood like a playful shadow.

Anuje glances at Romana. "She must be more tired than we." Brisa gives Romana a careful glance, making sure her hair covers her ears.

"As for our fell fortune... " Garrick looks outside, and doesn't speak until he is sure the sun still haunts above the horizon. "I wish I did know. If one were to ask however, I'd say that secret lies in the Rothian Woods. Solve that, and you'll also probably learn how a kingdom can fall in but a single night."

Brisa looks up suddenly at Garrick, "Is there... a well in the woods?" Trystan hmms, frowning thoughtfully.

"A well?" Garrick shrugs, quiet. "There's probably a whole herd of wells. That used to be the Kingdom of Roth beneath those trees."

Brisa taps her fingers quietly on the table, thinking, then looks up at Garrick, "What deity did the Rothians follow, do you know?" Anuje listens quietly. Trystan also is focused attentively on the discourse.

Garrick smiles, "Jake could tell ye that. They were the first to found the New Jvrillian way."

Brisa frowns thoughtfully, "So... in the forest of Roth, Knights... were the knights of Roth the old Jvrillians or new? I thought all the knights were wiped out?"

Garrick blinks, looking at Brisa confused. "I just told ye."

Brisa shakes her head puzzledly... the pieces she's got don't make sense... she looks up at Garrick, "But if they were all wiped out, how did the new Jvrillian way survive? Who taught it?" She mutters under her breath, "And where do the insane coveners come into the story?"

"Oh... that... they were the first, but not the last." Garrick takes a sip from his mug. "They did have a while of peace before that last night."

Brisa nods slowly, thinking furiously, "All right, that makes sense so far... so... hm. I wonder if Captain Mohlkavin knows if there was a sacred well there in Roth or no? -that somehow was poisoned..."

Garrick looks up, his head tilting. "Nothing. And we haven't seen hide nor hair of a witch in town for over seven years, when Chahna Treeherder was burned."

Trystan murmurs thoughtfully under his breath... "A well... literally... or figuratively..."

Brisa chews absently on a piece of bread, looks faintly repulsed at the casual comment about burning... then swallows. "All right. Let's say there's a well somewhere in the Rothian forest or nearby, and by poisoning it the Hellswords can stay here. So... if it were unpoisoned and reconsecrated... would that remove the source of power -- or whatever the Hellswords are using to stay here?"

Anuje blinks. "A witch?" Trystan, with measured calmness, sips at his mug.

Brisa glances at Garrick thoughtfully, "How long have the attacks been happening?"

Garrick takes a second long sip from his mug, looking back at Brisa. "You talk more riddles than the Counselor, mi'lady. The only well of yours I know of is the one in the center of town. And it's fine and clear. Tales of a poisoned one, that I don't know. It takes someone sick to poison a well... and ever since anyone in town can remember." Garrick rests one arm upon the table and calls out to the barmaid. "Fox, another mug of Amber..."

Brisa nods absently, "So it would... my mentor, Poppy, told me of a poisoned well. I'm thinking a Hellsword might be sick enough to do so though, da?" She adds curiously, "What Counselor?" then frowns, speculating freely, "Ahh... so let's say the poisoned well happened- oh! what if it were some special well? that poisoning it gave the East an inroad here, before that battle in the Second Age, that could perhaps explain why Roth fell in a night?" She frowns, "I wish I knew of a map of old Roth... maybe there'd be wells marked on it."

As the black-haired barmaid steals the captain's mug, Garrick turns back to Brisa. "The Counselor? Now if ye can answer that question... he is a funny little man who walks the Highland Path. He asks... odd questions. But for some reason, from Dawnview to Talantal, most Nobles are truly interested in what he is asking."

Brisa says in astonishment, "He walks the Highland path?! What questions does he ask?" Trystan hmms, interested, listening.

"A map of Roth? Well, if anyone would have one... that be Lord Random up in his tower." Garrick smiles then, and it has a touch of mischief in it. "Of course, it might take a bit for him to find it."

Brisa grins ruefully, "I'm hoping good Benedict can help him find it. That is Benny's specialty, after all."

Anuje says, "A bit of what?"

Brisa grins at Anuje, "Time. He's supposed to be a tad um... absent-minded, I think?"

Trystan chuckles warmly, taking a sip of beer, "Some of us more than others." Brisa grins at Trystan, but politely says nothing.

Garrick breaths out a short chuckle; Mordyn just leans over him as she fills his mug. Garrick doesn't seem to even notice as he considers. "He once asked Jake... let's see, ages ago he once asked Jake, he said in that little high pitched voice of his, 'What's the price of a bottle of wine in Gregory's Town?'"

Brisa blinks, then suddenly laughs softly, realizing who the goodwife was referring to as not being catch-able by the local ladies! She grins again at the question, "Does anyone know who the Counselor is? or why he calls himself that?"

Anuje says, "And does he keep his own counsel?"

Nodding, Garrick quietly continues. "When Jake took a look he found that certain farmers in Gregory's Town were trading food to the Hellswords for the privilege of being... overlooked. As for his name, that's something no one knows... every one else calls him the Counselor."

Brisa leans forward, looking fascinated, "How did he know? Does he just walk between McMurphy's Tavern and Brementown?" She glances thoughtfully at Romana, then adds, "What does he look like?" Romana lays still, as if asleep from too much to drink...

Garrick holds out his hand, maybe four feet above the ground. "He's a small fellow and always is wrapped up in his cloak. He usually shows up after sunset and is a very private person. Skittish almost."

Brisa sits back, an astonished look on her face, "Is he... human?!"

Brisa's words cause Garrick to start. "Of course... he..." The swordmaster pauses, "...that is an interesting question."

Brisa continues watching the captain interestedly. "Have you seen him yourself?"

Garrick rubs his chin. "Yes, twice. But since folks which don't respect his privacy tend to end up dead I didn't look too closely."

Brisa's eyes widen in fascination, "Schto?! Howso, do you know? How do they die?" Anuje listens curiously.

Shaking his head, Garrick takes a sip of his beer. "Some folks believe he has a companion softpad."

Brisa's eyes narrow in thought, "A softpad, eh? or maybe... maybe a Friend...? But why would he try to help here...? Unless... unless he also doesn't like Hellsworders for some reason?" She glances at Garrick, "Could he have been one of the Fair Folk?"

Anuje says, "Don't they only stay near forests... coming out only with the mists?"

Brisa says a little grimly, "Not according to Captain Koromov."

Garrick sighs in agreement. "She's right about that. But luckily they tend to stay away from here. Maybe they don't like our neighborhood forest." Anuje ohs.

Brisa looks curious, "That's right... the courier we talked to said you and captain Mohlkavin were the best to talk to about any Fair Folk attacks in the area. Do you know why they avoid the forests? Both Roth and Dirkwood?"

Garrick just gives Brisa a look. Not a bad one, but a quietly amused one. "Would you go for a picnic in either Roth or the Dirkwood?"

Brisa says, "Nyeh, but would I fear aught if I were a Fair Folk? Surely the magic there should be easily twisted to their will, da?" Anuje gives Brisa a knowing glance. Brisa says, "So... why isn't it? and here's another thought... if it's Hellswords in Roth... what is it in Dirkwood?"

Garrick shrugs quietly. "I don't know. The Dirkwood doesn't attack me, so I leave it well enough alone."

Brisa sighs, taking a sip of her drink, then comments with dry amusement, "I ask too many questions." She puts her chin in her hands and gazes absently at the dragon jawbone, thinking.

Anuje thinks quietly. "Why doesn't anyone ever set fire to the forests?"

Brisa says, "So... what do we know. We know there's a poisoned well. We know it has something to do with-" She blinks, staring at Anuje, "Er... because it would poison the land about with smoke for days, and could well burn us all?!" Anuje hmms thoughtfully, not deterred.

Garrick considers, quiet. "Because they are too large... and because there are villages around the Forests."

Brisa grins a bit confusedly at Anuje... then goes back to her musing. "So... we have a poisoned well that has something to do with insane coveners maybe, or maybe Hellswords. We have a kingdom that fell overnight. We have Hellswords in the Forest of Roth." She sighs, tracing random patterns in the small puddles of beer on the table, "So... how do they all interconnect?" She taps the puddle lightly with a fingertip, causing a small splash, "If we just force a connection, we could say that the Hellswords did something that poisoned the well, which destroyed the kingdom and made the coveners really unhappy. This would suggest the well is -- or was, rather -- in the former kingdom of Roth. On the other hand, we could also just speculate that the Hellswords just being in the forest of Roth itself would make the coveners mad, da?"

Looking at the pattern Brisa traces, Garrick lets his fingers drum across the table. rat-a-tap-tap-tap. "The first question you have to ask is are they connected... and second, if they are, how long is the chain."

Brisa says, "Could a kingdom fall if its ruling family were all dead?"

"Depends on the House." Garrick shrugs, "For example, if Nattick Emeraldsson died tomorrow I'm pretty sure the feeding frenzy would take down the rest of his house, and they'd find someone else to run the gambling hall."

Brisa nods to Garrick, sitting back and holding up fingers one at a time for her points, "Well, Poppy believes the insanity of the coveners was tied to the poisoned well. You say there are Hellswords in..." her voice trails off in sudden, quiet horror... then she looks up at Garrick, her tone low and worried, "Where did Montague get the ability to break free from old Brockman?" Anuje sits up straighter.

Garrick shakes his head, "That's mainlander politics, I think. We are on the edge of the frontier. I would say it's because the Montagues just wanted it more than Dag Brockman."

Brisa leans forward on her crossed arms, "I am thinking maybe it would be good if more knew this... there is a place just inside the edge of the Rothian forest, about 2 days ride from here, just off the Greenland path. A caravan fell there, in battle... the slain included people in Dawnview and in Highgaard livery. I went through it, searching, and I found the signet ring on, and banner by, a dead Highgaarder lord... but there was no fine lady there to be found." She frowns, "There were few dead of the opposing side -- it must have been a desperate and uneven battle... but the livery I found eventually was... Montague grays." She adds softly, "I am wondering how Montague knew it could attack there with impunity."

"What?!" Garrick almost drops his mug.

Brisa nods quietly, "Da, is true, captain." She nods to Anuje, "Sh- he was there. Ask him yourself."

The Captain turns to Anuje for confirmation... Anuje nods after a moment. "I saw... the Montague colors I know. I didn't know the others."

Garrick reaches back and just rubs his neck. "Do you mean Danton Kierkegaard and Brittany Allaine?" His words are dark and his eyes close for a long moment. "-were killed by a Montague troop?"

Brisa glances with sudden curiosity at Anuje... then looks back at Garrick, "Da... that is what I say, from what I found. Except..." her eyes are troubled, "-there was no dead lady."

That stops Garrick, stops him cold. He just looks back at Brisa, dead serious. "What do you believe happened?"

Anuje frowns. "Kidnapped?"

Brisa says, "I believe the Highgaard and Dawnview marriage pack train was ambushed or attacked by a much superior force, and fled for its life into the forest... and was cut down there. I don't know what happened to the lady..." she shudders, "-but I'll pray for her soul if she's in the hands of the Montague." She adds coldly, "And I believe I will return that ring and those colors to the Kierkegaard himself come spring. Justice must be done."

Captain Garrick slowly stands. "Aye, returned to Kierkegaard. And I need to find a courier to go to Amber then Dawnview."

Brisa says, "To Amber? Why so? And will the courier get through before the storms begin? I know it's been 24 years or so now... but if a courier can get the ring through faster I am thinking the Kierkegaard would like to know for once and for all what happened to his son."

"Because otherwise you'd have to go through the Forest of Roth." Garrick lets out a short sharp breath. "And the only courier off balance enough to do that left weeks ago."

Brisa grins quietly, "Rhys." She nods, "I see."

Anuje looks at Brisa. "You've met someone that would do that?"

Brisa smiles at Anuje, "Da. Off balance describes him nicely, I think. He's also survived being chased by the Fair Folk into the Dirkwood." She tilts her head thoughtfully, then adds idly, "I wonder... if the Dirkwood ever reached out to the forest of Roth, over Brementown... I wonder if the Hellswords would be eaten?"

Garrick just nods, "I don't know how he does it." Finishing his drink, Garrick wipes his mouth. "And around Amber, by the time a courier hits Snowgate the passes will be open again."

Brisa nods to Garrick, "Zhdrazvutsiya... and spacebo for passing the information on to the Dawnview Dale."

And as Garrick hurries off, three steps past and Romana lifts her head and blinks. Her sable locks tumble wild as she blinks twice. Interested, intrigued, and most certainly not... tired. Brisa grins quietly at Romana, "Learning well, Romishka?" She ums... "Is it all right if I call you that?"

Anuje grins. "It doesn't matter what you answer. Just say yes."

Brisa grins ruefully at Anuje, "Shush, you. Let her answer."

Eyes sparkling, Romana looks to Anuje then to Brisa. her lips part for a smile, "Yes." Anuje grins. But then Romana shakes her head, fine hair a gentle cascade. "Romishka sounds... right, yes. And yes, Romanas learn. When to speak... and when to not."

Brisa nods ruefully, "Am thinking I need to learn more when not to speak..." She smiles at Romana, "Well. Anything else you learn? -or anything to add to what we talked about?"

Anuje says, "The Captain is...very observant." Brisa grins at Anuje.

Romana nods, "Sharp eyes Captain has... But let... me... sleep he did. Romanas cunnings too."

Brisa chuckles at Romana, "Da, you are, Romishka. So..." she thinks a moment, then asks curiously, "-are there any small, light-voiced Easterners?"

Anuje says, "Could he be Fair Folk?"

Shaking her head, Romana slowly pushes a few stray locks from her eyes. "No. Corla... Easterners all tall and fair, yes? Short is too short."

Brisa nods slowly, "More likely Fair Folk then... so... it would seem they also do not care for Hellswords?"

"No one cares for Hellswords..." Romana looks across the tavern before her soft voice drops even more, "...even home."

Brisa looks surprised, then puzzled, "Then... why not outlaw them, like the Imperials have done with their -- their um... deathlord?"

Romana shrugs, her hand reaching down to trace a pattern through Brisa's circles. "Because no laws beyond Kh'Lhy'ra Pass."

Brisa stares in astonishment at Romana... then thinks for a long moment... then sighs softly, wonderingly, "But of course... laws are tiresome, not chaotic -- they're law! Why didn't I see that?" She turns to Anuje with the same alight curiosity, "And you... you're from Montague, aren't you?" Anuje nods. Brisa nods slowly, thinking hard... then stares at Anuje intently, "Have you ever seen the Montague or his attending people? Did you ever see a tall, fair woman with light colored eyes with him? She'd be what... about 40 now?" Romana's gaze follows Brisa's direction, falling upon Anuje. White teeth catch upon her lower lip as she tries to divine Brisa's direction of conversation. Brisa frowns, "No... he'd have to keep her covered... maybe... maybe even restrained? -or maybe he'd pass her off as sick? Er... no, wait, she's an Allaine -- it'd be red hair! She's Khorall Tiffany's twin..." Brisa pauses, then describes the Dawnview Khorall as best she can to Anuje.

Anuje thinks quietly and nods after a bit. "Yes... I think so."

Brisa draws in her breath sharply... then says softly, "When, kisa... and where?!" Romana turns, breath caught. Brisa whispers softly and wonderingly, "Twenty four years...!"

Anuje chews her lip, then stops, knowing how that looks. "There is a miller named Rolf... uhm... Rolf MacLaine. In Laine's town. He was gifted with a woman with red hair for some reason. Lord Jakal... uhm... borrows her sometimes." She frowns.

Brisa's eyes widen, "MacLaine?! That's... Fireball's last name!" She laughs, a short, sharp, bitter sound.

Anuje blinks. "Fireball?"

Romana looks between the two, confused, "Fireballs?"

Brisa says, "What irony." Her voice is cold and angry, "I hope the Allaines and the Kierkegaards raze them to the ground." She takes a slow breath, "She's... she's a woman a little older than me who rides with Captain Koromov. She's... a swordbitch." There's a note of cold pride in her voice at the term. "Her name is Kori MacLaine." She adds more softly, "I wonder if she knows..."

Romana bites her lip, "Knows what, however..."

Brisa smiles wryly, "She can't. She'd ride back instantly, sword in her teeth, and demand an immediate accounting, if I know her aright." She takes a long, slow breath again, shaking herself out of her anger, and smiles at Romana, "Knows her own ancestry, Romana."

Anuje says, "What would keep her mother from telling her?"

Brisa smiles quietly again, "My, what a collection of nobly-born notables the Horde is... somehow I doubt I'd fit in there that well, now that I think about it..." She glances at Anuje and says gently, "What makes you think her mother is still sane, kisa?" She pauses, thinking, "MacLaine..." then looks up suddenly, "Where's the captain?" Anuje frowns, remembering that forest, and tries to imagine it with hordes of murderers descending on her. She shudders. Brisa glances at her friends, "Excuse me, this news should be passed on with the messenger also. I'll be right back, all right?" She rises swiftly and almost runs to the door, searching for the captain.

"Would you, if mother?" Romana slowly considers, quiet and sure. "Give child dreams that never be grasped. Choice of cruelties... like game of Court and Blood."

Anuje shakes her head. "No... both reasons sound like they could be true, though."

Looking down from the balcony, Brisa is stopped. Not by men or beasts but by the darkness. As they had talked night had fallen, a black cascade over the sky, where above the stars slowly dance. Beyond on the ramparts every now and then a lamp can be seen to sparkle. A small amount of light sifts through windows here and there. But there is no sign of Captain Garrick. Brisa swears softly under her breath... then shakes her head. She must find him tonight -- the messenger may leave in the morning at dawn. She turns back to swiftly inquire of the barkeep, "How do I get an urgent message to Captain Garrick tonight please?"

Keegan looks back from the bar. Few patrons are left this late in the evening. "The captain? That's hard... mi'lady. I can call a lad and he can run a message for ye down to the guardhouse and then across the walls. If'n he went for a courier he could be anywhere this late."

Brisa swears again, softly, "This is very important... does the lad have a chance of finding him or is there any other way? Where are the couriers found?"

"The best would be from Donner's swords, but they are on the wall and on patrol tonight." Keegan slowly polishes a crockery goblet. "Then again Garrick might call in a favor. Most folks here owe him. And by now he could be on the wall. Take the offer for a lad, girl. You don't know this town. He will. That's your best chance, unless ye want to wait till he comes back for his new meal tomorrow."

Brisa nods grimly, "Spacebo then. I will write a message for the lad to take. Tell him too that I will double the pay he would make ordinarily if he finds Garrick tonight, please?" She heads for her pack for something to write with and on. She puts down Anuje's observations in Montague, and her own concerning Kori of the Horde, then folds and seals it, "Here it is." Keegan nods and in a moment the lad is gone... and Brisa's message begins its path to Dawnview Vale. A single piece of parchment, like the first pebble... in an avalanche.




Last modified: 2000-Jun-15 14:31:50

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