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Reality Fault

Aftermath and Afterthoughts

    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.

    The commons is only half full, or more precisely, mostly empty. Battered mercenaries seem more concerned with their food and drink than each other, the shock of the morning's battle still too close and it not being late enough towards nightfall for the revel to begin. Thus a table is easy to find for the small group, just a handful of feet away from where the Captain of the Bordertown Guard sleeps, leaned back in a corner booth all by himself, his green garb splashed with grime, blood, and muck.

Brisa gives captain Garrick a rueful glance, then settles down with her back to the wall, so she also can surreptitiously lean back and er... rest her eyelids a little... while at Brisa's side Romana is a lazy sprawl, claiming more than just her seat, her long legs stretched out over the bench, a half-laying collection of tunic and misplaced princess. Roxanna is back on her feet with no ill effects from her spill. She smiles at Brisa's preoccupied face, not expecting any serious interruptions. Seems that most of the local warriors are still in shock. Brisa's glance at Roxanna is a bit guilty, but she quietly smiles, obviously relieved that Roxanna is well.

As Benedict espies Brisa from the other side of the yard and starts to make his way there, a part of him wonders again what might yet come of all this, with relation to his faith. He talked back to a Lord of the faith, made it amply clear that he did not believe in just Seeing, that knowledge must be acted upon for the good of all. Indeed, he thinks, a reckoning is due, I think. And with the beings and powers that we've met in our journeys -- like Marin's avatar and the Firstborn of the Horses -- it would just be my rotten novice's luck to see Hastur being the one to scold me. Benedict's thought, though, is a little wry, for the moment more wearily bemused than terrified. After seeing Marin's avatar, there seems little that could be so frightening. He makes a mental note to not test that theory if he can possible help it.

Brisa gets much more alert when food and drink comes to the table! She eats quickly and neatly, as if she half expects to have her meal interrupted. She wonders a tad idly why no one's helping Garrick get cleaned up... that's what sword sisters do... aren't there any sword brothers, she wonders? Benedict approaches the table, smiling quietly and wanly as he joins the others. There doesn't seem to Benedict to be much call for talk... not after what they'd gone through together. Brisa nods quietly and smiles to Benedict also, pushing a mug towards him.

Slowly, one by one, the commons begins to fill, some straight from the battlefield, some looking a bit more relaxed. A snippet of conversation answers Brisa's silent question, as the newcomers too note their sleeping captain. "... me? You think I'm gonna be tha one to be awaking 'im?" Brisa tilts her head curiously at that passing comment, although she doesn't look at the individual speaking... she wonders if the captain's cranky first thing in the morning or something...or maybe the speaker meant he'd only be waking the captain, not helping him... interesting. She would have thought sword brothers would be more mutually supportive. She grins quietly to herself... maybe the Jvrillians could learn a thing or two from the Dayallans! -not that she'll ever bother to tell them that. Her grin turns wry at the thought. Benedict does actually half-glance towards the comment, but pays it not much heed. The food is much more deserving of attention at the moment, though novice ascetic battles with novice appetite. It seems an even match, as he wonders what to eat, and a part of him wonders what the guards would want to waken their captain for.

Roxanna applies herself to her meal. As the soldiers file in, she realizes that she'll probably be busy soon enough -- there are many injured survivors of the battle. And in spite of all the strangeness she's witnessed in the last few days, her responsibilities are still clear. Brisa finishes eating, then looks around thoughtfully. She's feeling far more herself now. She debates how she might help the captain... don't want to alarm anyone here, so probably if she carefully woke the captain, then got, say, Benny, Romishka, and maybe Reveka to go with her they could successfully get the captain to a ba- She blinks, stopping that thought abruptly. No. She's being naive again... butting in where she shouldn't. She sighs softly, resting her chin in her hands and carefully not looking in the captain's direction. It's... like knowing Khari's got straw in her mane... she sighs again, mournfully, "Damn. The armor's gone. I'd hoped to swap it to the captain for some things."

"...and once again your'n bloody vultures got to the field first. You'd almost think you cut a deal with those bloody brigands from Roth! Krysta be hung around your neck, Hysthainian, we are a third of the town; we are getting our fair tithe this time, mark my words...." Across the way in a shadowed corner two lords bark at each other. Finely dressed, perhaps they had been seen on a previous evening. It is the younger one who yells, his pale-haired companion definitely older and seemingly wiser.

"Are you threatening one of the Three, young shadowing? You like your fine things and comfortable ways? Pray don't slash the merebeast with the forever-long tail... "

Brisa glances idly towards the altercation, not moving her head much from where it rests in her hands. She murmurs softly, "Anyone know where Hysthainia is?"

Benedict blinks, looking up to Brisa. He'd been following the unavoidably loud 'discussion.' "Hysthainia?"

Brisa glances, somewhat disinterested in the conversation, back at Benedict, "That's what it sounded like."

Absent-mindedly Romana just nods, "Third tower on right and then straight on 'til..." And then she just slams her fist into her mouth, eyes going wide as she suddenly shuts up. Brisa is suddenly far more alert, although she doesn't shift much... her eyes dart back over towards the pale man, checking to see if he's an Easterner.

Roxanna's eyes widen slightly, but she says just one word. "Later."

Benedict looks at Romana, blinking, then his eyes widen a bit, and blink once, twice. "Ah... yes, later. Much." But he has the sudden suspicion that this is not the last they'll hear of this...

Brisa nods quietly, slowly leaning back so her hands are nearer her sword belt. She murmurs softly to Romana, "You want my cloak again, or no?" The pale haired merchant certainly is tall and slender, but that could just be the costs of his advanced age. His ears, however, can be seen... simple and rounded. Brisa makes a mental note to add to the list of things she'd wanted to trade the armor to Garrick for... she's not sure how she'll get some of them, but she'll try her best. She mentally reviews -- one of the local women to help out Lady Kay if they will, someone to go with a horse for her when she's needed instead of making her walk, sugar and some other staples for her... what else... ah, right, good leather armor for Romishka, and finally, supplies to repair her armor and to continue cleaning out the temple... and, Brisa thinks amusedly, a nice shading hat for Romishka! Benedict peruses his purposefully meager dinner. Hysthainia. Tower. Eastern towers, the kind that Eastern lords rule from. What does this mean? 'There is no such thing as coincidence,' as my Master said....

Most of the soldiers do cast a glance towards Captain Garrick, but they maintain a respectful distance... until the dour Mohlkavin finally strolls in. After a short conversation with Keegan he crosses the commons to sit down next to Garrick, two big mugs of steaming kavas in hand. He sips from neither. Brisa sighs again... looks like Garrick's being cared for finally. She rises quietly, "I think we might want to do some shopping... or at least I need to. I have to get sugar and some staples for Lady Kay... and Khari needs to get out and stretch her legs... and maybe the Lady will like a ride into town instead of having to walk. Anyone want to come along?"

Benedict blinks, looking again to Brisa, and nods, standing. "I'd be glad to, Brisa." Brisa smiles at Benny.

"But Romanas comfortables..." But with a sigh Romana sits up, shaking out her long, dark hair.

Brisa smiles at Romana and says gently, "You can stay, mishka, if you want. Be comfortable." She glances over at Mohlkavin and the captain and murmurs quietly, "Wonder if they'll call the new avatar... so they can kill it while it's still weak." She pats Romana's hand gently, "Relax a bit," then turns to pace quietly out.

Looking to Brisa, Romana pouts quietly, and obviously theatrically, and then she reaches up and combs out her hair with her fingers. "When pillow gets up and walks away?" Brisa laughs softly, and pauses to hold a hand out for Romana. Flouncing lightly off the bench, Brisa's hand is snared, Romana following along.

Benedict follows along after Brisa, careful not to glance around much. Once out of earshot, he does comment to her, "That would be the wisest thing, Brisa... but they'd need to keep doing it..."

Brisa smiles darkly at Benedict, "Only until they run out of His worshippers, Benny, da?"

Roxanna says, "Might be... prohibitive. If you go too far, the real one might appear to take a hand."

Benedict grimaces at Roxanna's comment. "She's right. And the last thing we need is one of them annoyed at us..."

Brisa grins quietly at Romana, then heads for the barn to saddle up. She glances at Roxanna, "There is that. Still... apparently the deities are more than willing to squabb- er, um, battle with each other through us. Would be interesting to see if it worked."

Roxanna says, "Hah. As in, 'may you live in interesting times'?"

Benedict says, "I'm more worried about 'living a very long time in interesting times.'"

Brisa gives Benedict an amused glance, "Oh, don't worry, Benny... I won't make that mistake again. I'm happy to suggest it to them... but if they want to try it I'm not getting involved. He's a little more familiar with us than I'd like." She adds a touch dourly, "And wanting to help doesn't seem to make a whole hell of a difference to them." She's quiet until she's in the barn, where she relaxes as she saddles up horses for everyone, crooning quietly to Khari as she does so. "So... sugar, staples, then up the hill?"

Romana draws Dancer from the stables. She turns and looks to Roxanna, considering for a moment. "What nice could bring, for old Ladies Attera?"

Roxanna says, "I'm thinking we might want to leave the horses here until we've done our marketing. Things are a bit... unsettled at the moment."

Brisa also tacks up the extra eastern horse, putting it on a lead line. She looks up at Romana's question, thinking... then says quietly, "Something to heal her?" She glances at Roxanna, "Don't worry about it, tovarisch... I'll hold the horses outside while you shop. No need to drive up prices with my presence." She mounts up and rides slowly and easily through town, towards the marketplace. She'll repeat the list of staples that she noticed the lady was low on, so the others know what to shop for.

Benedict tries to make himself useful -- the morning lessons in horse care back in Cragside coming back to him -- and... the horse. He can't bring himself to say 'his' horse, not anymore, even if it's not in a possessive sense. "Sounds fine, actually." Though he's not keen on running into Lord Random again, his sister (as royally irritated as she was with him) is another matter.

Roxanna hauls herself up into the saddle again. She's getting better at it, but she's by no means an accomplished horsewoman yet. "Market first, then?"

Brisa nods to Roxanna, "Sounds good to me."

    The saddling of the horses is a very easy matter, the thought of an afternoon ride a pleasant thing even for the big beasts. The collection of supplies is a different matter. Not that the supplies could not be found, but their costs run a handful of crowns higher than expected, not blamed on Brisa but upon the most recent skirmish. There might be a modicum of truth in that remark, as half the market stalls seem to be either unattended or just simply missing. Then it's the trek back up the broken hillside; slow, slow going for the horses. Until the flat peak and Lord Random's Tower is reached.

Brisa gets quieter and quieter as they ride. When they finally arrive she sighs, drawing rein, and swings down to knock on the door. Benedict gulps slightly as they pause outside the tower. How will Lord Random react when he sees him? He gives a wry grin. It's not likely he'll have forgotten what Benny said. He's a Lord in good standing with the Temple after all. It takes a long, long while for the door to open. It opens a crack and then a bitter voice speaks. "What, another fool you'll be wanting patched back together?"

Brisa says gently, "No, lady. We brought you the sugar and staples you were short on... and if you wish a ride into town we have an extra horse here."

The door opens a bit more, and Lady Kay's gaunt face looks out. "No. What happened? She forgot to get up in the morning? Krysta decided to play with daisies?"

Brisa looks a little blankly at the lady, "Er... what?" Brisa glances over her shoulder at Roxanna, wondering if she'll catch Lady Kay's meaning. Roxanna doesn't look like she knows any more about it than Brisa does. Brisa looks puzzled... then mentally shrugs and proffers the saddlebag with the sugar and stuff in it. Benedict blinks as well. The Lady's reaction is... a little confusing. It couldn't be that nobody's done this for her before... could it? Finally Brisa blinks as she figures it out... then gives Lady Kay a perplexed look, "Lady, pardon my asking please, but what happened to you, that you are so angry always?"

The Lady just gives Brisa an empty and hollow look, her words very dead. "The truth." Then she opens the door all the way. Inside matters have changed. The base of the tower is now a makeshift hospice crowded with the worst of the battle's wounded. A brutal triage, only the most desperate have been brought here. Pausing before a warrior whose arm ends a hand too short, she nods to the kitchen. "Just put the supplies in there, yes?"

Brisa looks around bleakly, then nods quietly and heads for the kitchen, stepping carefully around the wounded. When she returns she asks, "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Roxanna looks appalled as she realizes where the wounded would of course have been taken. "My lady... I should have been here earlier. Please, take some time to rest. I will take over here."

Lady Kay just shakes her head at Roxanna's words. "No. I'll not give Her the pleasure of seeing me give up my half of our promises." She then considers, "-but you can help the warrior there. The one there that just won't stop bleeding." Roxanna nods once and heads to the indicated patient, doing a quick check to see what the problem is...

Brisa's head turns sharply at that statement by the lady... what promise did 'She' not keep? And... who is She? Attera? She blinks again, realizing she's doing it again!! -butting in on stuff she really shouldn't! Brisa determinedly pushes the question out of her mind, and follows Roxanna to see if there's anything she can do to help. Benedict shivers at the Lady's answer, her words shaking him to the core as only an Eye could be affected. The truth... Something every Eye of Hastur is taught... no, something every Eye of Hastur holds more sacred than his own life. He glances up at the spire of the tower... to where the Library is, the Library of Lord Random, perhaps the most knowledgeable of the Eyes of Hastur... and Lady Kay's brother. He slips off of the horse, trailing in after Brisa and Roxanna. "Anything you might need me to do," he offers quietly to them. "Water, bandages..."

Brisa steps outside and takes care of the horses, dropping bits out of mouths so they can graze, then looping reins through stirrups so they won't drag and get stepped on. She nods to Khari, "Keep an eye on them, all right?" then heads back inside to see what help she can offer.

The afternoon in the makeshift hospice is long. There are many bandages to be changed, wounds to be cleaned. Every so often another handful of Jvrillians appear with an almost dying companion. They don't come with coin, but rather more supplies, which they leave with the broken warrior. Roxanna works with natural healing throughout the long afternoon, keeping the healing spells in reserve for emergencies and hoping that she won't need to use them. Her dagger is back to its normal usage now, trimming bandages, and she gives a brief, thankful prayer that she did not need to use it for anything violent after all. She has seen the aftermath of fights often enough, frequently vicious ones, but the sheer scale of warfare's debris is still horrifying.

Brisa works silently, following the sparse directions given by the two Atterans as best she can, remaining quietly emotionless at the occasional flash of tired temper or frustration. She watches everything with intense, weary fascination, noting how the Jvrillians never stay to help, and how the lady seems to drive herself, and how there's never any coin... and how terrible the aftermath of war is... and internally she wonders why. Bleakly it occurs to her -- at least in this one there are no wounded horses to cope with... she shudders slightly. There's nothing, in her experience, more horrifying than the screaming of a wounded and uncomprehending horse... even Romana helps. And while she seems skittish around the wounded, she does sit with those who are awake and babbling empty headed nonsense. Brisa will pause only once, just before Her setting, to step outside and quietly chant the prayer for then.

Eventually it is too dark to see, and Lady Kay lights some candles, some crystal oil lamps.

Brisa will straighten tiredly once the last patient's been tended, internally relieved that no more have come for some time. She looks around... she needs to get Romana and Benedict and the horses back to town... but she doesn't know if Roxanna will want to come or no. Finally Lady Kay just leans back, and beneath the light of a single candle she draws a woolen blanket over herself. Brisa sighs softly, making more mental notes... more pillows, more blankets... ask Roxanna what else the lady might want or need. Roxanna nods to herself as Lady Kay finally rests. She turns and speaks quietly to Brisa and the others. "You go ahead back to town. I'll take the night watch here, so she can recover." She pauses and lists a few items that they're running short on. "But we'll be fine until the morning. Say goodnight to Anuje for me."

Benedict works as instructed as best as he can, with what limited abilities he has... though he is another pair of hands available to work. He is a bit curious as he works, however, as to where Lord Random is through all this, as he hasn't seen hide nor hair of the Eye through the entire afternoon and evening. Finally, as Roxanna speaks with them quietly, he mentions softly so only they can hear, "Should we try to get some of the townsfolk to come up and help as well tomorrow?"

Brisa nods, "We'll do that."

Roxanna shakes her head in answer to Benedict. "Best not. I suspect there's something more to this -- best not make yourself unpopular preaching to the locals about their 'duties.'"

Benedict nods quietly, fretting slightly. "Good point... I know I would feel better knowing why she said 'the Truth,' but... I shouldn't ask."

Brisa murmurs tiredly, "Doesn't have to be preachy, Roxy..." She shrugs quietly, "Whatever it was, she feels betrayed by a 'She' that exchanged promises with her. Sounds like Attera to me... but I'm no expert on supernaturals."

Roxanna says, "Da. But would still be mucking about with a situation we don't understand. And unless your little stunt yesterday blocked Her from contacting us here, it's an older problem that I don't need folks messing around in until I know what's wrong. Lady Kay is my church, so it's my responsibility."

Benedict blinks to Roxanna and nods quietly. He has a feeling that he'll be understanding that all too well in the coming days. Brisa gives Roxanna a sharp glance... then just shrugs tiredly again, "I'm going to take your horse, Roxy, da? I'll bring it back tomorrow." She heads out into the night, gathering horses silently, swinging up into the saddle, and leaving.

Roxanna nods. "I expected you would, Brisa. No reason to let her stay outside all night up here on this rock."

Benedict blinks as Brisa departs without any more words, and stammers quietly for a moment or two. "Er... we'll be back tomorrow morning, Roxanna."

Roxanna grins at Benedict. "You sure you don't want to stay and talk to Lord Random this evening? He's probably still up in the library..."

Benedict grimaces, "He's the last person I want to see. I snapped at him, Roxanna, and there are horror stories they told novices about uppity priests who do that..."

Roxanna says, "Best you ask forgiveness then, eh?"

Benedict sighs, and shakes his head. "I can't. I can't apologize for what I believe, for what I know is right."

Roxanna sighs. "I fear you're right, Benedict. If it's any consolation... if it's Hastur's Judgement you fear... I will stand with you and do what I can to protect you. It's your right and my privilege, even if it's a Judgement between you and your God."

Benedict blinks, then smiles quietly. "Thanks, Roxanna. That means a great deal to me." He nods to the doorway. "I'd better catch up with the others. Are you sure you don't need another set of hands here tonight?"

Roxanna says, "I'll manage. Things have quieted down, and I don't expect we'll get many midnight patients, if any."

Benedict nods quietly. "All right. Thank you again, Roxanna." With that he slips out, gingerly mounting the horse he rides, being as gentle as possible, and rides down the trail after Brisa.

Last out is Romana, a flurry of legs and skirts as she bounces to the door. She stops and turns, looking back to Roxanna. "You sure this is what Roxanna wishes?"

Roxanna nods to Romana. "Someone has to watch them tonight. It's my responsibility. Brisa and you were the heroes of the battle. Our task is to clean up afterwards."

It's actually a peaceful night, the stars just coming out as the sky darkens...

Brisa doesn't bother calling the little friend... there's enough light to see by. She just gives Khari her head, letting her use her own judgement in heading down the hill, and waits at the foot of the hill for Romana and Benedict, not wanting to leave them alone in the darkness riding back to town. Once they arrive she'll quietly turn Khari and head for town. She mentally crosses her fingers, hoping Garrick's still groggy enough that he won't think to ask what happened on the hill. Benedict looks up into the sky as night falls. A lot has happened with stars lately. He tries to find the one that appeared earlier... and, remembering what Brisa wished for earlier... perhaps two new ones in the heavens above.

...and as Benedict looks up into the night sky there is the smallest flash, like a tiny sparkle of lightning. A new star then glitters, brilliant white against sable, right above the horns of a crescent silver moon.

Benedict stops his horse short, blinking up into the sky, looking up at the star for several minutes... and a quiet smile plays upon his lips. Hello, Tashka, Allena, he sends quietly to the star. I'm glad you're together finally, after two hundred and fifty years. Be at rest now, and watch over us. He sees Brisa and Romana up ahead, and as he approaches them he merely points to the new star, wordless, unsure if his smile is visible in the shadowy evening, unable to find words for what he sees... for what he Sees. Brisa glances up abruptly and stares silently for a moment, her eyes glittering coldly in the icy moonlight... then abruptly looks away, rubbing her eyes. Her murmured whisper is very low, "Finally..." She slouches wearily in the saddle, one hand still holding the leads of the other horses, feeling worn down to her very soul... she trusts Khari to take them all home.

Romana rides quietly next to the weary Brisa, until finally she just reaches over and snares the reins to Roxanna's horse. The town gates are almost closed by the time they reach the double portcullis, the guards not even bothering asking for coin and toll, more worried about getting safely inside themselves. The streets are dark, darker than the skies above. The only light drifts pale from windows; most are asleep. The porch and balcony of the Dragonstooth is quite different. It is bright and the sound of slightly drunk and out of tune singing echoes across the square. The stairs are crowded with mercenaries and townsfolk, finally assured that the riders from Roth will not be returning. At least not tonight.

Brisa looks up tiredly, wondering if she wants to face all that drunken revelry... no, she won't mess up anyone else's night, she decides. Romishka and Benny should be able to have fun there if they want... and it is well past dinnertime, and she's hungry herself. She'll make sure the horses are stabled and getting fed nice hot meals themselves... then she'll quietly trudge towards the tavern. She smiles faintly at Romana as they go, "See? Promised feathers."

Benedict frets slightly, seeing Brisa be less than herself this evening as he helps her feed the horses (one of the first things she had taught him how to do in Cragside, he recalls) and asks, "Brisa, are you... all right?"

Brisa smiles quietly at Benedict, "Da, Benny... just... a little shaken up is all."

Benedict says, "Shaken? How so?"

Romana laughs and smiles. "Feathers and no fears for waking up come mornings... dreamings and sleeping in until wakes and not hours before even sun gets out of bed?" Romana's step is bright until she hears the tone in Brisa's voice, its simple weariness.

Benedict shakes his head, "We've killed He of the Red Scarf -- or at least the most recent one," he says quietly so only the other two can hear, "-we've seen the glory and fury of Dayalla brought again into this world, and Seen, and we've irritated a Firstborn. What's not to be shaken up about? Sorry, Brisa, mine was a silly question."

Brisa grins quietly at Romana's comments, then adds to Benedict, "Oh... just things. Trying to keep folks I care about safe, and not always succeeding... trying to respond fast enough and not always making it... trying to help and sometimes just making things worse..." She sighs quietly, shaking her head, "Nyeh, was from the heart, Benny... I may be only one who believes this, but p'jalst! -how can from the heart be so wrong?"

Romana reaches out to touch Brisa's cheek, "How make worse?"

Brisa smiles wearily at Romana, gently catching her hand, curling her fingers through Romana's and starting for the inn, "Accidentally insulting a firstborn, getting Roxy hurt... that's how, mishka." She sighs, then adds a little wistfully, "I am SO hungry!"

Benedict arches an eyebrow, studying Brisa for a moment. Would she understand...? Blockhead, of course she would. "You aren't the only one who believes that, Brisa," he says softly. "I..." You know, saying this would probably see some really irritated people in the Temple... Sod them, they're not here and Brisa's my friend. "If it helps, Brisa, you aren't the only one who believes that. It isn't wrong, it's doing what you feel is right. We both might find some powerful being or another annoyed at us... but I believe that there is somewhere a Truth that states unequivocally that what you did was right, and worthy of praise, not scorn. The Firstborn was wrong to take out his irritation with you on Roxanna; in fact he was wrong to even be irritated. If it's wrong to do what one believes, from the heart... blast it to cinders, but you wouldn't be the only one here to annoy a deity," he finishes with a soft grin.

Brisa blinks, looking over her shoulder at Benedict. She blinks again, thinking about what he said... then, slowly, she smiles. "Spasebo, Benny. I... that means a lot to me, coming from you."

Benedict looks only a little embarrassed. "I only wish that I could say that other Eyes would say the same thing," he says softly. "As it is... well... things will be... interesting, but that's besides the point..."

Romana mmmmmmmmmmmmmmssssss quietly, thinking of food, her fingers slipping into Brisa's hand. "So annoys Firstborn, and Roxanna is now feeling much betters, yes? Real question much more simple. Where are Tashka and Allena? Forever together in sky? How can that be a bad day?" Romana then smiles quietly, lifting both their hands together. "Brisa lets Romanas hold hand. How can be bad day?"

Brisa grins cheerfully at Benedict, "Da, it is the same for my church as well, I am sure, Benny-varisch-" She blinks startledly as Romana's words register -- then blushes hotly! -but grins with sheepish pleasure at Romana next to her.

Benedict grins softly at Romana's words. "She's right, actually..." He blinks a little at the suffix Brisa uses, which is the first time he's ever heard her use that, but the blank look disappears after but a heartbeat, replaced by a warm smile. "Well, then the future's going to be quite an experience to see, and to See." The emphasis is audible in his voice. "I can't help but feel that with all the auspices surrounding us, our time for doing significant things is not yet over." His expression falters a little. "Though that might not be a good thing..." He shakes his head, and his smile is back. "In the meantime we should rest. We should probably get back to the tower as early tomorrow as possible."

Brisa chuckles quietly, her mood lifting, "Well, we shall see... but for now, I am thinking a nice hot dinner for us all now the horses are feeding, da?" Up the stairs to the balcony the three walk, picking their way through the mercenaries and guardsmen. Most are either in too good a mood or have had a little too much to drink to be much of a bother. A sword seems to be a sword tonight... though a few step aside as Brisa passes, nodding quietly. All those who do wear the dark greens of the Bordertown guard. Some of the mercenaries in black and red studiously ignore Brisa as they reach the balcony, but if it's a black and red checkerboard it's somehow not insulting. And when the three step into the commons... it falls silent. Brisa returns nods in quiet courtesy to the Bordertown guard. She looks faintly surprised at the sudden silence... then ah!s quietly to herself -- Michael must be here. No matter... she looks around for a table for herself and her friends. Benedict blinks at the sudden end in conversation, suddenly feeling incredibly conspicuous. A Dayallan and a Hasturian and whatever Romana must look like to these people... there's such a thing as drawing too much attention! I feel like I'm being watched by a roomful of Eyes... or worse, Judges... As casually as possible he follows Brisa to a table.

At the edge of the bar Mohlkavin and Garrick sit, both in cleaner and less battered garb. It is Garrick who turns, Mohlkavin remaining still, studiously looking into his drink. Garrick raises his mug, first to Brisa, then to Benedict, then even to Romana... without a word. Romana blinks. "Fair work on a fair day, Marin's Bane," is the captain's simple toast. If a Jvrillian stirs, they are stopped by one of the town guard, a firm hand upon their companion's shoulder. One by one the rest of the guard and a few other independent sworders repeat the Captain's words. "Marin's Bane... Marin's Bane... Marin's Bane... MARIN'S BANE! ...cor, can ye believe it, he's finally gone... twohunnertanfiftyyears... see, they can be slain... see them turn like rabid merebeasts... swiv the bastards. If he can die maybe we can eventually hold Roth Castle again... Mordyn, more ale!

Benedict blinks, bowing slightly if confusedly at the raised mug. Then he looks slowly to Brisa, an eyebrow quirked bemusedly at the epithet. "'Marin's Bane,'" he repeats quietly. If that doesn't get Marin's attention...! But he stifles the panicked thought.

Brisa blinks in utter astonishment -- then opens her mouth to explain that she really didn't do anything -- then suddenly realizes... she can't steal someone else's thunder -- it's not fair. She just smiles a little self-consciously at Garrick. She blinks again, realizing another thing -- the town doesn't seem to hate them! A slow grin crosses her face as she glances at Benedict... then beams at Romana and gently squeezes her hand. Softly, cheerfully, she says to her companions, "Dinner?"

Settled at their table, and they don't even have to ask. "Captain's compliments," nods Mordyn, as she slips three plates of venison and bread upon the table, leaning very close to Benedict as she reaches around to present him his dinner. Her long hair is a swirled caress upon his cheek, where her breath had just only tarried, as she sashays away... Benedict sees the undercurrents of Brisa's expression and opens his mouth to say something, then blinks in sudden surprise at the brush of Mordyn's hair upon him. That seems to immediately wipe his mind into a clean slate for a bit. Brisa thanks Mordyn with pleasure, then coughs softly, looking down at her plate and trying not to grin too obviously at Benedict's expression! She picks up her mug, then glances at the captain again. Should he chance to look her way she'll smile and lift the mug in silent toast to him, mouthing a silent 'spasebo' to him. Then she sighs contentedly, relaxing a bit and quite relieved that she's not harmed her friends' reputations in town. She eats hungrily, swift and neat... she suspects at some point the captain's going to want the story, and she'd like a meal first.

Romana just smiles at the thick slab of meat, happily stabbing it with her dagger and raising it up to tear out a very, very passionate bite. Her free hand finds its way to lie atop Brisa's thigh beneath the table while she just smiles at Benedict. "murphle... munch... maybes pretty serving-lass likes Bennydicts?" Brisa starts! -then flushes a bit... then addresses herself quite assiduously to her meal! She won't stop Romana -- but she's never had anything like that happen before!

Benedict starts to eat, albeit slowly. The meal should be giving him time to relax, but as he sits there more questions keep popping into his mind. He blinks at Romana's comment, and says dryly, "She barely knows this poor Eye, I'm afraid."

Brisa chuckles softly, and can't resist quietly adding, "But surely not for lack of trying, Benny?" She grins mischievously at Benedict over her mug.

Romana smiles brightly, taking another healthy, happy bite from her steel-stabbed venison. "Maybe Mordyn wish to learn more? Closer likes?" Brisa covers a giggle at that one!

Benedict opens his mouth... then closes it with a bit of a snap, blinking. Wait, wait... he's a priest! Oh, wait... a priest of Hastur, there's no restrictions on that sort of thing... or is there? Wouldn't that be something that supposedly distracts one from one's Duty? Like he's honestly concerned of his 'duty' as defined by Lord Random? But he is, isn't he -- he's still an Eye, yes? And what does that have to do with it...? The mental argument escalates from debate to conflict to veritable war, with the infantry of his retorts being overrun by the cavalry of reluctant agreement. "Ahh... I mean, er, well, ah..." It seems as if incoherence stepped in and won.

Brisa laughs softly, her eyes dancing with amusement, then just pushes Benedict's mug over closer to him, "Am thinking you are thinking too much again, Benny-varish!" She grins.

Romana just smiles bright at Brisa's soft laughter, accenting it by the playful drift of her own light caress. A third bite and Romana smiles again, "But Romanas thought Eyes everything was supposed to see. Even pretty soft serving lasses?" Brisa almost chokes on her drink, sputtering and hacking for a moment! She finally manages to swallow, her eyes watering, still laughing at that one!

As if perfectly timed Mordyn returns, a bucket of beer in one hand. She sets it on the table, the fall of her lush curves at Benedict's eye level, especially when she leans close to quietly whisper, "Anything else for you? A drink, Amber beer here... or mince pies from the kitchen?"

Benedict blinks. "Thinking too much...?" he asks, almost not noticing that he takes a sip from the mug. "But... I mean... er, mayhap, yes, it's... just..." Well, for one thing, how's a nice way to say that they might not be welcome for very much longer? He doesn't want to ruin the mood... fortunately, or un-, as the case may be, Romana's comment leaves him boggled, his expression frozen in one of someone clearly on the verge of saying something but now completely unable to. Finally he manages to say to Romana, "Ah... I er, don't think that's quite what the temple had in mind, it's just that, er, we're supposed to seek knowledge..." Oh, yes, a part of his mind notes, didn't the old, old, old definition of 'knowledge' have carnal connotations to it? He gives that part of his mind a stern mental look, which is promptly annulled by the whisper that trills in his ear. "Oh! Oh, ah... n-nothing, thank you, thank you! I'm... I'm still working on this one, but thank you!"

Brisa is struggling to maintain a calm, dignified front in the face of Benedict's... composure! -although she looks a bit like she may well explode into peals of laughter, given much more provocation! She hastily turns her attention elsewhere, to prevent such an accident. Who's talking to whom? Is anyone watching them? What's the prevailing mood tonight now? Her brief glance out across the floor finds a room full of song tidbits and martial conversation... "For truth, there we were..." Most seem lost in their own conversation, their own tales. In fact, there is so much activity it is easy to overlook what's happening at each individual table. The mood is good. High and hot but celebratory. If two groups might have a conflict... then they are probably at different bars tonight. Brisa nods quietly to herself, leaning back and relaxing even more, her long legs stretched out under the table, her mug remaining not too full... not too empty.

"I'll be back later then... " And with a trail of fingers light upon Benedict's shoulder the barmaid spins, the flare if her skirts daring Benedict's legs. A sashay or two and Mordyn vanishes back into the crowded room. Romana smiles coquettishly, leaning back a little with a happy shake of her head, sable locks a fine whirlwind, teasing Brisa. "Bennydict... isn't best knowledge found, what is Bennydicts say... first hand? Practical experience?" Brisa blinks a little startledly at Romana at that comment! Romana turns, eyes wide to Brisa. "Romanas say somethings wrong?"

Brisa grins cheerfully at Romana, "Nyeh, mishka... I was just thinking that maybe I should do so also?" She smiles a little shyly at Romana, then with a careful finger gently brushes Romana's wild bangs out of her face... she's lost for a moment, watching that lovely pale face... sapphire eyes sparkle at Brisa's touch, as Romana turns her head gently into the brush of Brisa's hand. Romana's own caress pauses, fingertips light, before she returns to her own explorations. Her answer to Brisa's unspoken question is but a simple nod as she rests her head next to Brisa's shoulder.

Benedict is simply dumbfounded. Why? He's done nothing to warrant that kind of attention. He's a priest... what attraction is there in a priest? Or maybe Brisa's right and he's thinking too much? Romana's comment merely adds to his confusions. "Er... yes, I mean... I, ah, imagine so, but, ah, this... I mean, that...! I mean, it might not be anything...?"

Brisa blinks, looking back at Benedict a little vaguely... then smiles, "Benny-varish, do you like her? Would you like to get to know her better? I am thinking she would like that very much. Will you deny her chance to do so?" She adds with sly amusement, "Midwinter's night coming soon... who will you give giftings to, eh?"

Benedict blinks. "Midwinter's! Oh, good heavens, I'd nearly forgotten..." Brisa glances back at Benedict, smiling in quiet good humor. Benedict frets in consternation. What Brisa says is right, of course, right albeit confusing. And it brings to mind all sorts of odd questions, such as... just what is he doing as an Eye, anyway? But more immediate than that, what should he do. "I... I barely know her," he stammers, "but, I... er..."

Brisa glows happily at Romana for a moment... then grins, taking pity on Benedict, "Benny-varish... she is a nice girl. That means even if she opens the door... you must step into the house!"

Looking across the table Romana nods, "Responsibilities of Benny'hero'shka, ya?"

Brisa nods thoughtfully at Romana's comment, "Da... you don't want to hurt her feelings now, do you?"

Benedict blinks, eyes going between Brisa and Romana, Romana and Brisa. "Er... no, no, not at all, of course not..."

Brisa nods firmly, "Good, glad to hear it. Am thinking after a long night like this a nice hard working girl like Mordyn might like her back scrubbed." She tilts her head to nod (with a small grin) at Romana, "-you think so too, mishka?"

Benedict blinks and opens his mouth to protest... What? What in the world are you going to protest, blockhead? He admits that he doesn't have a good answer to that. And it's not like you swore any sort of vow of chastity; at least the Imperial Temple has that going for it, for the most part. And surely there have been Eyes who've been married, even. That part of his mind blithely ignores the invectives he hurls at it for that little observation. Benedict shakes his head as if to clear his mind and get it thinking as a single part of him, if at all possible. "Ah... hah, er, I see..."

Romana just closes her eyes and smiles, "Mmmmmmmmmmmmm, Romana think so too." Then she blinks, her eyes going wide. "Oh! Brisa means Mordyns likes! If tired from long day, best to warm hot relax... yes?" But then she just smiles, looking back to Benedict and finally extending a friendly lifeline. "But must be what Benedicts also... wants."

Brisa chuckles softly at Romana's comment, then grins and nods at Benedict, agreeing with Romana. She puts a finger to her cheek, thinking aloud, "So... you will need to find out when she gets off work, da? -but!" she holds up the finger sternly at Benedict, "-remember please she will most tired be! so you should be gentle and a good companion, da, because she may fall asleep on you? -but this is a good thing too... because then it will give you both time to get to know one another, da?" Brisa smiles lazily, adding, "And the rest, as they say, is up to you." She takes a sip from her mug, then goes back to contentedly surveying the bar.

Benedict blinks. Too fast, too fast! Just this morning he was waking up in the ruins of a Dayallan temple, by noon he was lobbing masonry at an avatar, in the afternoon they had a run-in with the Firstborn of Horses, and in the early evening he was at the Tower of Lady Kay and Lord Random, trying to help... and then were lionized by the town guard... it's so much to experience for but a single day, more experiences to have Seen than most Eyes see in a year... so even if I am having un-Imperial beliefs, do I really think Hastur would mind all that much...? The answer is reasonably obvious, even to a Talantal boy who was raised by the Temple. He takes a drink from his mug and a deep breath from the room, heavy with the aroma of food and revel, and nods, albeit a little shakily. "Da," he agrees quietly.

Brisa grins cheerfully at Benny, raising her mug slightly to him, then takes pity on him and changes the subject, "So... what is our public story, if we are asked?" Romana just nods, her own gaze turning; instead she watches Brisa watch the tavern. Her chin is hooked upon Brisa's shoulder, her soft hair falling across them both. And as Brisa is stretched out, that too defines the length of the touch of Romana's own hand light along the skirts of Brisa's tunic. Se blinks though, her eyes narrowing, noting the serious change in their conversation.

Benedict says, "That depends, I think, Brisa. How excited do you think people here would be about having a Dayallan temple on the hill? Excuse me, as the hill?"

Brisa glances at the bar again, idly watching Garrick and Mohlkavin. She smiles gently as she suddenly realizes how nice that was of Mohlkavin to quietly not 'see' anything during the toast... she already knows how frantic Jvrill gets about Dayallans. She glances at Benny, still smiling, "I think best we not tell everyone that, da, Benny-varish? Maybe best to just say I called on Herself, and She chose to collect on a very old debt that avatar had to her?" Brisa thinks a bit, then amends slightly, "Nyeh... how's this. We were up there and saw the battle and when it kept going you knew how to call the uh... chaos rider... and you and Lord Random did so... and I got lucky when calling on Herself?" She smiles, "And... that was that?"

Benedict nods, "That sounds fine." He's fretting, though. "I don't know what'll happen if anyone asks Lord Random what happened, though..."

Brisa grins quietly, "Everyone knows he's... 'hard' to talk to. Who'll ask him, when it's so much easier to ask us? The only person I think really should know the whole truth is the captain... it's his town to protect, after all."

Benedict nods slowly, biting his lip. "True, it's just... erm. Well. Brisa, if I am asked directly, I will say that story. It's close enough to the truth, after all. I cannot imagine that Dayalla was not Herself angry at how her temple was treated by the avatar two hundred years ago. But... Brisa, as a priest of Hastur, I'm supposed to tell the straight Truth. I... I will avoid getting into a position where I would have to do otherwise... though I will say what you have proposed, if asked." He shakes his head, sighing. "It's not supposed to be up to us to determine who is ready to hear the Truth, but... in this case you're probably right. I don't imagine knowledge of what happened in there would go over too well."

Brisa tilts her head thoughtfully at Benedict... then says quietly, "Would you rather I say it, Benny?" She grins, adding, "We may not even be asked, you know."

Benedict takes in a breath. "It... depends, Brisa. On how comfortable you are with saying that. Just because I'm an Eye doesn't give me exclusive right to feel the need to tell the truth." I wonder how many other Eyes do feel that way though, especially when dealing with pagans? "And this is true, we may not be... what happened was pretty clear..."


It is very late by the time Brisa and Romana leave Dragonstooth commons, leaving Benedict alone to meet his rendezvous with Mordyn. The stairs are empty, lit by crystal-sconced candles. As she walks Romana stretches once, her hands in little fists, reaching out up and ahead of her, shaking out her long sable locks. Quietly she steps ahead, walking backwards almost, her hand still in Brisa's as they reach their door. Eyes bright, she pushes it open and steps inside.

    Bordertown: Dragonstooth Tavern Room
    Down a set of stairs, down a small hall, and the polished wood door to the room opens... and inside it is as rich as the commons above. Wood floor and paneled walls. A diamond paned window opening to the court; a casement too, already half open to let in the fresh air. A small padded couch and a wooden chair are set next to a wooden trunk, and atop the table a pitcher of water and a basin. Dominating the wall beneath the window is a four poster bed. It has a quilted comforter and two pillows.

And with a bright smile Romana bounces once upon the balls of her feet, turning, her skirts a swirl and flaring soft and wide, Brisa's hand abandoned for three quick steps and a playful leap... to fall upon her back, her arms spread out, sinking soft into their bed's full mattress. "Feathers..." is what Romana says, one word, a promise fulfilled.

Brisa chuckles, quietly content as she leans in the doorway watching the pretty princess, and agrees, "Da, feathers." She's relieved, internally, that nothing prevented her from keeping that promise... although, she reflects wryly, for a bit there it looked like the Firstborn HorseLord might! She steps in and closes the door quietly behind her, then paces over to sit on the couch and smile at Romana as she jacks her boots off and sets her sword belt carefully aside. She sighs herself, laying slowly back against the couch and stretching luxuriously, arms reaching high overhead and long legs stretched before her... then yawns hugely, laying her arms across the back of the couch and grinning cheerfully at Romana, "So... are the feathers worth the wait, mishka?"

Romana shakes her head back and forth, just feeling the softness beneath her head. Then she props herself up on her elbows and gives Brisa a curious look. "Have Brisas ever on soft feathers sleeps?"

Brisa thinks a bit, tilting her head. "Hm... well, we girls all shared a bed and had a goosedown quilt for the winter time?" She grins ruefully, "Not really enough room for us all." She leans forward, her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, watching Romana with a curious smile, "What's it like to have a bed all to yourself?"

Romana smiles quietly and turns herself around in a tumble of tunic and long legs, not caring if she rustles the sheets and covers. "It is... truth?" Romana shrugs quietly. "It is kind of... what is word... empty? -can stretch and stretch and nothing but softness. But it's just... feathers, in end." She smiles, sapphire eyes meeting Brisa's. "Come, see. Soft it is."

Brisa hesitates, looking faintly uncertain for a moment... then rises and seats herself cautiously on the edge of the bed, turning slightly so she can look half over her shoulder at Romana. She tests very carefully, letting her weight down as if she's not sure if the feathers will all be crushed or no... then, when the bed doesn't suddenly collapse under her or anything, she grins a little and essays a cautious bounce or two. Laughing softly, Romana rolls over on her back again to look up to Brisa. She shifts, subtle and graceful, so that her head might lean soft against Brisa's side. "Fun, yes?" Then she takes in a big, long, and deep breath. With her feet she shucks off her own footgear, using the motion to stretch again, slow and luxurious. "Brisa... feathers soft, will catch."

Brisa hesitates again, looking down at Romana, then says a little embarrassedly, "Um... I do not want to squish you by accident, mishka?"

Romana shakes her head, her eyes slowly closing. "Many feathers; if squooshed, a nice squoosh, yes?" She reaches her hand up, searching for Brisa's. "Is something not right?"

Brisa takes Romana's hand willingly enough, shifting more so she can sit sideways on the bed. She looks silently at Romana for a moment, lying comfortably sprawled across the bed with her eyes closed. Then, slowly, gently she runs the fingers of her free hand along a sable strand of Romana's silky hair. Her voice has an odd tone in it as she murmurs softly, "You're so pretty, Romana... I... I feel like -- like I don't belong in this... in this room with you, mishka...?" She hesitates, searching for words, then fumblingly tries again, "I am thinking... I am thinking sometimes, if -- if I touch you, I'll mess you up? Is like -- is like that you're too pretty to touch?" She sighs... that's not really what she wanted to say, but the idiot words aren't coming!

Romana's eyes suddenly blink open, listening to Brisa speak. For a moment, for a briefest heartbeat the fingers in Brisa's hands relax, almost pulling away... as if... as if afraid. But then Romana shakes her head, a single firm motion, and her fingers slip between Brisa's and gently squeeze. "Romana... Romana try to be good enough for Brisa, Romana promises, Brisa." But then she smiles, and drawing Brisa's hand down to her cheek, Romana nods. "Romana big fish. Romana not break. See, Brisa, Romana real." And with that she just turns her head so that she can brush her cheek along the back of Brisa's fingers. "Romana likes how Brisa looks, too."

Brisa draws her breath in quietly, watching Romana, wondering in slightly disconnected surprise how touches on her fingers can make her feel tingly in so many places... such soft skin Romana has! She blinks a moment later, realizing she's supposed to say something again, "Uh..." but what to say?! lamely she stutters, "...r-really?" She bites her lip in embarrassment again -- well, that was smooth! She takes a deep breath and tries again, "Romishka, um... well, I'm not -- I'm not beautiful like you, slatke... um..." she pauses, then adds a bit confusedly, "I'm sorry, I... I don't know what you mean by good enough for?"

Propping herself up on her elbows first, Romana then awkward draws herself up until she is sitting and her bright eyes can look right into Brisa's. She spends a long moment just holding hands before reaching up with her free hand to so gently, like a butterfly, brush Brisa's pale bangs. "Romana be good enough... so Brisa not feel uncomfortable when Romanas in room, yes?" The younger woman's words are serious. But then they lighten, as bright as her eyes. "Smart. Strong. Romana can depend on. Hair almost the color of Romana's. Eyes that are not empty, but have life... desire... purpose... power. Oh, Romana has many fine things, and pretty figure, make all men turn and lick their lips... but Brisa, Romana to look in your eyes, a pretty deeper than just curve and skirts... and it shines through." Her head ducks then, a tinge of pink coming to her cheeks. "And also, Romana think Brisa cute too."

Brisa looks quite surprised at Romana's words -- she'd never thought of herself as attractive, let alone cute! A little shyly she looks down at her hand, the fingers intertwined with Romana's, and murmurs, "Da? You... really think so? You think that when you look at me?" She sighs softly, smiling, and glances sideways at Romana, "I... I am not uncomfortable in room with you, mishka, because of you... I am uncomfortable because of me. I feel big and... and clumsy, like a carter who doesn't know where his hooves go, da? I don't... don't want to accidentally hurt you or anything..."

"Romanas really think so, Brish'khhya..." Her hand strays, lightly tracing the outline of Brisa's cheek and jaw, slowly slipping down the curve of Brisa's neck. She doesn't say a word, not for a long set of heartbeats. But as she thinks, her bright white teeth snare her bottom lip. Finally she looks back, then leans forward to rest her forehead against Brisa. With a catch of her breath she whispers, picking her words oh so carefully. "Brisa... Romana trusts Brisa... I... I trust you. You won't hurt... me."

Brisa looks down at the silky dark cap of hair resting against her, drawing in a slow, amazed breath, her face lighting up. Carefully, giving Romana time to shift away if she wants, she brings her arms up around Romana, gently drawing her close into a quiet, warm hug. She rests her cheek lightly against Romana's head, still aglow with internal happiness as she murmurs softly, "Thank you, slatke... that is... that is an amazing thing to me..."

Romana doesn't pull back. Indeed, her warm arms loop around Brisa's waist, slipping to the small of Brisa's back, melting against Brisa in a comfortable closeness, soft curves meeting soft curves. Her head rises so that their cheeks touch, a nuzzled caress. Brisa can hear Romana's soft sigh as she is embraced... and almost swear she could hear the skip and rush of Romana's heart. Her whisper is soft and warm, her lips teasing Brisa's ear in a small, small kiss. "Romana have hard time to believe... also..."

Brisa shudders startledly at the sudden rush of tingly feeling she gets -- so ears are like fingers too? they connect everywhere?! then she belatedly wonders -- what was Romana saying again? She missed it! Brisa's voice is a little breathless, "Uh... m'sorry, mishka, believe what?"

Taking in a deep, deep breath Romana closes her eyes, the stroke of her long lashes teasing Brisa's skin. Romana slips closer so that her tiny kisses might explore the curve of Brisa's ear, from top to pretty lobe. And after Brisa speaks she softly answers, "Hard to believe too, that Brisa would let Romana kiss and hold her..."

A moment's pause; a dreaming vision fair,
A pearl so gladly free of eastern shell
Dark sable flowing swirls her silken hair
So brightly offered beauty thoughts dispel.
Her supple form like lilies blooming glows
Her eyes like stars alight with life and light
Across strong arms her tumbling dark mane flows
Her perfume'd presence sets the soul in flight
And yet a troubling worry lingers still
For beauty always beauty should command
So how could a mere mortal hope to fill
A butterfly's desires? or her dream land?
Perfection such as she deserves alone
Returned perfection, not mere flesh and bone.

For butterflies like jewels no owners know
But flitting lightly dance from flower to flower
Their lovely wings in Her light sparkle so
Sweetly they lure, but tarry but an hour.
So bright she shimmers, sapphire eyes so rare
The blue of stars, skin pearl by Silver-rise.
See how she glows, how shimm'ring lies her hair.
So brightly too dance rainbow butterflies
Stay not their flight, for trapped in greedy clasp
Such wings as theirs no longer shine, but fade
Where once jewels brightly gleamed within your grasp
The beauty fled; through greed your love decayed.
No, beauty honored best is beauty free
Alight with love and life for all to see.

The moonlit beauty now a moment deigns -
Oh wonder! - 'gainst all reason she alights.
Though base the setting, gracious she remains
Bright butterfly, fey beauty, don't take flight!
It's true this body's battle-scarred and rough
It's true that coarse and callused are my hands
But freely offered, is my heart enough?
Could I perhaps caress those silken strands?
Material goods to offer I have none
I cannot drape you bright in samite fair
But if you sought to conquer me you've won
I yield. I walk with you, I find I walk on air.
Stay but a moment? this I promise true,
Sweet butterfly, to please and pleasure you.

...sable locks, so soft, like finest down. The drift of light fingers upon simple broadcloth. But to the young woman it doesn't matter. The tunic is hers, is Brisa's, and for that Romana is glad. Her fingers light, falling along a Dayallan's neck, to slip along her collar, her head upon Brisa's shoulder, a butterfly in her Companion's arms...

How can one hope to ever touch a Star?
Or dare in the shadow of her fair gaze?
And how may I survive the coming days,
mortal desires no longer mine they are.
For a Star, my own life my heart betrays,
surely now caught, my siren's song she plays,
her voice more fair than a minstrel's guitar.

I can't, I know, but still I can't not try
To live without, my choice can not now be,
even if just to walk beneath her sky,
in her footsteps to trail along the sea.
Star's chance gaze, and my heart is full lifted,
her name my soft spoken prayer gifted.

Bright charms, gold coin, but an empty blessing,
Even a rose to a star's spirit fade,
Her soul more fine than an ironsilver blade.
Tokens do pale before her, for giving;
and yet, before her, i would my heart lay'd.
Earnest of my intentions softly made,
a favor fair, for her my wish granting.

Only one gift I have that I can make hers,
Sapphires my eyes and a rushing heart,
Rich wine, my blood fire if I was just yours,
My hand offer'd, never wishing to part.
If upon me a Star might look, might see,
The only gift I have to give is me.

Oh Fates, please, let her accept my one kiss.
Not for me, but for her pleasure partake,
for a single, a perfect moment make.
Oh Fates, please, I would her a heartbeats bliss,
if I touch her, will I tremble and shake?
Will she let me, can she hear my heart quake?
Oh Fates, please, one boon, let me gift her this.

I would her fine territory explore,
for a Star to smile my only reward
Myself to give, with her to lay soft before,
So a Star might know a heart that soared.
One taste, one drink, the finest of sweet wine,
to offer a dear Star all that is mine.

Time and order narrows to this one bright moment, newly experienced yet somehow perfectly known; tossing manes tangle in eager fingers, and the thunder of hearts as loud as galloping hooves, swept away in emotion, drowning in touch, afire with the shock of joyous release...

How long I've feared, how long fair touch evaded?
A tragedy; time and emotion wasted
I longed for closeness, ached for love sweet tasted
But darkly dancing unicorns dissuaded.
Yet now, when all such fears are in decline
Unfounded shown, and joy offered instead
A newer problem raises now its head
I do not know how to approach the shrine.

Oh, scorn me not for learning as I go!
Though clumsy, still due reverence I'll show
Although the path I tread is new to me,
Sweet butterfly, I promise you will see
the journey long and arduous gladly I'll
endeavor -- gift me only your glad smile?


The glossy floods of sable rivers flow
Betwixt the snowy banks, and swirl so fine
A fragile dance as I go seeking sign
My lady's temple -- whither should I go?
The panorama, lush and pale, criss-crossed,
my steps along the curving path soft touch
such joy this brings! I fear it is too much
So easily my destination lost.

And yet though now distractedly I wander,
With absence does the heart not grow yet fonder?
my journey is unhurried, still I feel
That to my lady's grace I may appeal
For in the end it's to her shrine I'll go
Aflame inside with adoration's glow


What untouched, snowy vistas do I see?
Such pristine beauty; pausing now in awe
Dare I touch this? Will my mere presence thaw
The frosty lacework of this scenery?
Oh, let my passing only pleasure bring!
My tread is careful and my fingers stroke
With gentle happiness, as light as smoke
And whispers -- even though my heart does sing.

And even though this touch a fire kindles
and draws me in, my trepidation dwindles
I shall not fear this rising, heated passion
I trust instead my lady's deep compassion
and there - behold! -rewarding observation
the temple gleams, with promise of elation!


Through snowy pillars slowly do I pace
In growing awe, my fingers light caressing
Breathless in wonder at unwonted blessing
Dear lady, grant your pilgrim breathing space?
Your roses exhale sweet, my head is reeling
First friendship's pink, and then the deeper flush
Of passion's scarlet; velvety they brush
How else can I explain this dizzy feeling?

My course is clear, no longer shall I think
My heart must lead me now, I'll deeply drink
With rev'rent caution quietly I enter
To seek the holy source, the temple's center.
Look there! -before me now, that glorious glow
Omphalos' fountain, rippling, does flow.


I kneel and quietly observe the pearl
The fountain's bright and glorious centerpiece
Such beauty -- dare I give the kiss of peace?
It glows with life; about, the waters swirl.
How shall I dare to thrust my hands within?
I am not worthy of her gift of trust!
Though proper reverence declares I must
How can such impudence be but a sin?

And yet it is heart's trust I shall repay
Though gently shall I touch this bright bouquet;
My tender kiss is soft and true, devotion
A surging flood within; fiery emotion
Emboldens me -- in fountain I belong
Bright lady blessing me with her love song!


Slowly now, as if it takes forever, the night deepens, the commons crowd thinning as one by one sleep and nightwatch steal the patrons away. Finally there are but a handful of patrons left. The two barmaids move from table to table, cleaning up after merchants and Jvrillians alike...

    Bordertown: Dragonstooth Tavern Commons
    The tavern commons is a crowded and bustling place. 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, delivering drinks with a delightful swirl of their long skirts. Merchants and mercenaries seem to be the primary patrons, both alone and in little groups. 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 lantern 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. During the day 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.

Benedict remains seated, taking in a deep breath. The others had gone to sleep, and he'd remained, managing to stay awake. He'd not realized the level of exuberance in the town! Then again... they were celebrating the death of the avatar... he takes a sip of the drink he'd been nursing for what seemed like hours. Marin's Bane, they had called Brisa. The story of Dayalla's Miracle at Bordertown would be told long and far, he hoped. And if it wasn't told by the townsfolk, he's carry it, he'd bring the Truth... but that would be considered heretical by the Temple, he was sure. For the moment he didn't care. He had seen the Truth, a glorious Truth, and he wanted to show it to others, to tell them about it! And yet... surely the masters of the Temple would not approve...

He banishes such thoughts from his mind as the barmaids clean up after the last of the departing revelers. Taking a deep breath and standing, he sighs and straightens his robe slightly. He has no idea what to do now... so, he reasons, he'll do what he can. They had no idea, when they first started, how to deal with the fey, or what to do about Marin's avatar, but in the end they persevered. That's no mean feat, he reasons. Albeit hesitantly, he looks briefly around for Mordyn, dark-haired Mordyn, who... well, he's not sure what effect she had on him. But, as Romana noted, best to find out...

Across the bar, the black haired angel looks up, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. She sets down the last of her goblets upon the bar, slowly turning to look in Benedict's direction. Then, with a soft smile, she crosses her arms and leans back against the wall. Still on the other side of the tavern. Benedict almost -- almost -- stops short, and almost turns and runs. He briefly wonders what's wrong -- then he realizes. He has to go to her. Like a blazing flicker of the spark of Truth the young boy from Talantal sees that, and his mind is calmed. With a smile he can't avoid having be a little shy, he walks quietly across the tavern, each step at first seeming to take as long as the entire journey from the Temple, seeming to plunge him deeper into some mundane version of the surreal mists the fey cast about them so long ago... but the path is there, each step there if one has but eyes to see... and not just an Eye to See.

He nears Mordyn, glancing around briefly. Lacking anything more witty to say -- the upper-born of the Empire seem to have a monopoly on urbane repartee, but he's just as glad to let them have that, he realizes -- he says, a little wryly, "I, ah... hope every night doesn't bring you as much trouble as tonight did..."

Mordyn watches quietly, a slightly amused twinkle sparkling in her eyes. She waits though, patiently waiting for Benedict to come to her. She is still... well, still save for the occasional swish of her skirts as she shifts just a little bit. And when Benedict speaks she stands again right before him, not even a half pace between them. Her hand reaches out and she places it quietly on his waist. "No, it's fine; every night is like this here. I'm..." she smiles, "-honored you waited for me, yes?"

You now have two heartbeats to run... Despite the sudden touch, though... the point where he could possibly wanted to have run is over. To him at least the greatest hurdle -- the long walk across the tavern -- has been crossed. What happens now, well, is up to the gods -- No, he thinks suddenly, much to his surprise, not the gods. What happens now is up to her and I... The analytical part of his mind goes silent, taking the protesting, quarrelsome part with it, leaving only... Benedict Matthewsson. He blushes only a little, but almost doesn't have to think about placing his hand lightly over hers. "The... the honor was mine," he manages to say, smiling. "I'm, well, afraid we weren't introduced, before..."

"Mordyn. And you are Benedict, friend of Marinsbane." She smiles quietly, stepping just a little bit closer, the scent of her long hair suddenly intoxicating. "It must have been so exciting to have been up there on the ruins, when He was killed. Would you..." she leans closer, the motion swirling her skirts against Benedict's legs. "-tell me?"

Benedict blinks, stunned. How did she know...? Though she could easily have found out; after all, she called Brisa Marinsbane. The scent of her hair, though, is intoxicating; like nothing he's experienced before. A small part of him idly wonders if that would be clichéd or not, then he puts it from his mind. "Certainly... Mordyn," he says, smiling quietly. And now it comes to this, a small part of him thinks, the first step on the road to heresy... and how easy it is... no, stop that. How right it is to take this step! "There is not much to say, but I'll try." He takes a breath, "Marin's avatar saw easy prey, I imagine, as he came up the hill towards us. Marinsbane, Brisa is her name, called upon Dayalla, for whatever aid that one might see to give." He shakes his head. "It was bleak, Mordyn. He of the Red Scarf, a two hundred and fifty year old monster, charging at us, blood in his eyes and on his hands and on his hammer. When he came upon us and laughed, it... was a nightmare." The words come easily now for some reason, the cadence of the tale flowing through him. "I was in the tower, trying to get Lady Kay and Lord Random to safety, but too late. When he came to us, I saw Brisa look up, and they saw each other... and charged one another, Brisa with her sword, the fell avatar with his hammer." Benedict takes in a deep breath. "They made a single pass at one another, then turned for another. That is when Brisa, Marinsbane, called upon Dayalla." Benedict pauses to gather his thoughts, his words...

Mordyn steps even closer, listening, her eyes never leaving Benedicts. Her arm slips around him, her soft curves pressed against him, suddenly much closer than just standing next to each other. "And you... and-" She ducks her head quietly. "This is where I work all day. Certainly there's a better place to be telling this tale?"

Benedict blinks again at the sudden closeness. The touch, the arm around him, all but erases whatever he was about to say. "Ah... oh! My apologies. I should have thought... I... I'm afraid we're still new in Bordertown, though. Is there... a place that you suggest? Someplace warm, for surely the winter's bite is approaching...?"

Blinking once, Mordyn shrugs her shoulders, softly leaning upon Benedict. "Warm? Well, I showed your friends the baths earlier today... and there's always your room, no?"

Benedict opens his mouth, then closes it again; for a brief moment he goes into a panic. Neither of those choices were things that are recommended to be the first things on the mind of a novice when in this situation! Then again... nothing is recommended, for that matter. "Actually... after today, the baths sound wonderful." Only a little hesitantly he lightly places a hand at her waist and adds wryly, "Not the least after the revel you've had to deal with here, tonight."

Mordyn pauses, looking up at Benedict, smiling to herself as she leads him away. "They are downstairs... this way... you'll follow, yes?" And she steps from him, her skirts snapping as she sashays away, leading Benedict deeper into the Dragonstooth Inn...

    Bordertown: Dragonstooth Tavern Baths
    The baths are located deep beneath the tavern, in a small arched room of very old construction. Not one pool, but a handful, are scattered amidst the dimly lit columns; each circular, each a different size. A masonry wall, of obvious more recent construction, separates the baths into two distinct sections. And within those sections some are certainly public, with others tucked into more private niches. A soft gray mist rises from the water, and the floors themselves are warm.

This late the baths are empty; their footsteps echo across the water and masonry as if almost a fullhand of their own shadows accompanied them. But lonely it is here... lonely except for Benedict and the pretty Mordyn. She takes three steps ahead fast, sparing Benedict a sultry look over her shoulders as her belt falls to the floor with a clatter... followed by a long, long glimpse of her hourglass figure as she pulls her tunics off over her shoulders. She turns only then, an instance of her before the Brother, before she steps into the bath, letting the water clothe her to her neck.

Benedict follows behind the young lady, all but entranced -- no, fully entranced. The clatter of the belt upon the stone floor jolts him slightly, and it is not discomfit but a wrestling of emotions that is perhaps visible upon his face. The moment that she is visible is as if suspended in time, a moment broken only by his realization that she's comfortably in the warm, inviting water... and he's standing there still fully robed. With only a bit of a start, and without the self-consciousness he thought he might have, he disrobes as well and as quickly slips into the indeed warm water. Mordyn looks back across the water, slowly tinting her head back until all her long sable hair is thoroughly soaked. When she looks back up she smiles, reaching out to brush her fingers across Benedict's cheek. "So, what was it like, up on the ruins?"

The touch is electric, a surprise to him at its very inception as much as the sensations it elicits. But her question touches his mind, and jars him enough to answer. "Oh... it was..." He sighs. "It seemed so bleak, when it began. When the avatar came, we didn't know what we were going to do. We tried throwing rocks and stones at him to impede him, but it did no good." Benedict closes his eyes. "He came at Brisa, swinging his hammer. They made one pass at each other, then came about for another. At that moment Brisa, Marinsbane, called upon Dayalla."

Mordyn whispers quietly, nodding. "We all saw the light, it couldn't be missed. Like a beacon it was..." She lets her fingers slip along the line of Benedict's jaw. "And then he fell, vanquished, yes?"

Benedict gives the faintest of shivers, as much as by her touch as by her question, opening his eyes. He nods quietly. "Da, he fell. The light of Dayalla enshrouded him; Brisa dove into the light of the goddess... and came out with his head. With a shout that echoed over the battlefield below she called out the name of Dayalla and threw the head down upon the chaos riders." Benedict sighs, "After that... the riders fought among themselves for whomever would be the next one to wear the red scarf."

Letting her hand fall from his jaw, the pretty Mordyn slips closer, her legs brushing Benedict's, her fingers upon his collarbone. She blinks, considering, and then she quietly asks, "But you were up there three whole days..."

Panic! They hadn't thought of covering that! Neither had they planned on Benedict being in quite this position. Nothing is a coincidence. The words of Master Hieronymous come back to him, and a brief, wild moment sees Benedict wondering why Mordyn is asking him questions so intently... but he reassures himself somewhat, reasoning that by the stars, he'd be blazing with curiosity as to what happened as well! The Truth comes easily to Benedict; less so the un-truth, or the partial truth. But he nods, sighing softly as much from weariness as from the sheer comfort of her touch. "We were looking through the ruins, hoping to find some clue as to whom had built it," he says softly. He is unsure as to how to respond to her touch, but again he subdues the analytical part of his mind, letting his heart move him, the heart that moves him to protect Brisa and the other Dayallans and their Temple, the heart that moves him to rebel against the dogma Lord Random preached to him not that very morning. He, albeit very gingerly and giving her plenty of room to refuse, places his hands at her sides, a cautious, ginger touch, a nigh-embrace. "It must have been some fate which had brought us there at the time we did, and bringing the riders and him there." None of this, he reasons, is far from the truth, after all. They knew not who had made those ruins, and Brisa's charge from Poppy had been to find and cleanse a poisoned well; that charge had not, as far as Benedict knew, said whom had built that well, and they had indeed wondered who had built the Temple. So it is not a lie at all; but the concealment of truth is still but there.

The barmaid slips closer at Benedict's touch, so close she can lay her head upon his shoulder. Her hand traces light circles on the warm water. She lets out a soft sigh, "You must have found all sorts of wonderful things up on the ruins... to..." she swallows and shivers, "-to attract His wrath."

Benedict blinks. Mordyn is... having a powerful effect on him, to be sure, but the thing helping him keep his wits about him is her eagerness to learn what happened on the hill, at the temple. He almost... well, no, he doesn't want to disappoint her, but he can't let it out that there's a Dayallan temple right next to the town. She seemed nonplussed by the glory of Dayalla being brought so dramatically into the world, as well... Stop it, he scolds himself. I'm just being paranoid. "We... don't know yet," he confesses in a quiet voice. "We were looking through the ruins, I went into the tower to ask Lord Random of about some of what we'd found... something there, something ancient, must have garnered his attention, because, well..." The memory of that eye being cast upon him and Lord Random even now -- 'even now?' It was but less than half a day ago! -- makes him shiver slightly. "While the Lord and I were talking... I could feel his eyes on us." He shakes his head quietly. "From there we had no time to wonder what had called him. I hope though that before long we can find out."

Letting out a soft sigh, Mordyn lets herself drift lightly upon the water. She is quiet for a while, her fingers drifting light over Benedict's shoulders. She considers, "So there's nothing up there but broken stones, hero?"

Benedict allows himself a quiet chuckle. "Hero? Ah, not I. Brisa is the hero this day. And broken stones? I do not think Marin's avatar would be concerned with only broken stones. No, there is something up there precious or disturbing to him." Yes, indeed... darksteel bolts set into Second Age stone, holding captive two who had dared defy him and who are now free, who are now stars in the evening sky. "Something he was willing to ensure himself. We hope to find what it is, and maybe, just maybe, it can break his riders' hold of fear." Again, not entirely a lie. Ah, Mordyn, if only you grasped the enormity of this! Dayalla's power and glory drawn against crimson Marin, omens strong in the sky, powers you and I must rightly stand in awe of, atremble! And would I could tell you the joy it brings to me to be able to See all of this as Hastur's Eye! Or at least to perhaps someday make others see the Truth as I have been blessed to see it. He tilts his head a little to the side, a little and sadly bemused. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I know... it is not as exciting as what could have been there. Gold and gems, the riders' plunder from hundreds of years, vaults of wondrous magics." He allows himself a sigh. "Part of me hopes that that is simply all we might find." And part of me wishes that is all that we had found there.

Mordyn smiles, then turns and looks up to Benedict, her eyes sparkling. "I know. You should hear the cursing down the length and breath of Sword Street. They had been trying to slay him for as long as I have been alive..." She lifts her head, her face but a hand away from Benedict. "So this a story only half told so far?" With a soft smile Mordyn leans forward. "Then consider this a tale half told too..." And so softly does she press her lips to Benedict, her embrace hot and firm, a demanding promise... and when the Brother looks up again, all he hears are her wet footsteps, heading back up the tavern steps...


    The late morning air is cool by the time all are gathered before the Dragonstooth Tavern. But the brisk air has not kept the townspeople from their tasks. The market is open, not full but larger than the day before. The well is even more crowded, with many buckets being splashed down into its depths. And about it a large gossip of goodwives, chattering of cooking, dowries, lost ones, and the upcoming dinner...

Roxanna nods, a little tiredly after a night spent sleeping in catnaps between medical emergencies, but happy to listen to the townsfolk. "Nice to see things getting back to normal."

Brisa smiles, watching the women at the well (nicely marked with its three runes... that makes her feel good), then glances at her companions, "So... do any of you know what this dinner is?"

Benedict is simply enjoying the brisk morning air. A relief it is to not be waking up worrying overmuch about some impending disaster or confrontation! He shakes his head at Brisa's question. "I'm not sure. Could it be Midwinter's?" Benedict adds dryly, "Or maybe not..."

Brisa smiles again -- she's in an exceedingly good mood this morning! "Maybe just dinner for their families." She looks around, still smiling, then adds, "We want to go shopping or exploring today?"

Benedict says, "Well... we didn't get much of a chance to just look around at leisure when we first arrived."

Roxanna chuckles. "Things did get a bit out of hand there."

Brisa grins, then waves a hand exuberantly off to her right, "There... shall we start there? Lonely Street... interesting sounding name to explore, da?" Benedict blinks and looks over. A street called 'Lonely Street'? There must be a story behind that name! Brisa beams at Roxanna and Romana, sweeping them both a graceful bow, "Lovely damas, would you be willing to accompany gospodin Benny and myself on a walk this fine morning?"

Roxanna grins and curtseys in response. "Assuredly, milady. Shall we be off?" Brisa laughs delightedly, then gallantly waves the two ladies on! Benedict chuckles softly. Roxanna heads slowly down the street, looking around. Brisa will cheerfully follow, of course. She's not looking for any store in particular... but she does want to find a nice hat store eventually, and keep an eye on what her companions seem interested in. Midwinter's, after all, is coming up soon! Romana follows, the very last, quietly sashaying down the street, her hands folded behind her back. Brisa grins shyly and offers a hand to Romana if she'd like as Brisa follows Roxanna. At Brisa's invitation Romana reaches out to intertwine their fingers.

Lonely Street is indeed that, a quiet and not very busy place. A couple taverns, no more than little rooms and a single barrel of ale. A handful of small shops, and mostly the open green space to the right, within which sits a fine manor. What little traffic there is does make an odd pattern. A lady in a bright saffron tunic, the same exact shade of her hair, trimmed with fancy borders and bright ribbons, paces lightly towards the far gate. She doesn't seem to mind or even notice that all the townsfolk and all the merchanter traffic leaves her a wide, wide, and empty way. Brisa whispers curiously to her companions, "Who's that?"

Romana just blinks, "Romanas never lives here... Romanas not know?"

Benedict blinks, fretting slightly, and unable to not notice the path cleared for the woman. "I'm not sure, I'm afraid. She seems a woman of means... perhaps a noblelady?"

Brisa nods, quietly watching the woman, and adds, "Wonder why they avoid her so?" She frowns, thinking... saffron, saffron... "Are there any priestesses that we know of that wear saffron?"

Roxanna says, "None that I recall..."

Brisa shakes her head, unable to think of an appropriate priesthood, "Must be noble." She loses interest in the lady (who's unlikely to satisfy her curiosity anyway), looking more interestedly at the manor. While not large, the manor dominates the open plaza. Both lawns and crops are grown in the fields between the buildings, with a single road leading to its arched entrance. Like the Dragonstooth, it is built like a small fortress; no windows along its lower reaches and sturdy bars protecting the windows of its higher reaches. Its craftsmanship is fine, highly articulated and obviously the home of someone rich. Brisa raises an eyebrow, then smiles, "Must be the home of... what's 'is name... Emeraldson or something. Garrick said something about him running the gambling in town."

The brightly garbed woman snares Brisa's attention again as she disappears into a little house. Brisa tilts her head, studying the small building. It is not a shop, for there is no sign; not a tavern, or there would be patrons; not a residence, for a residence would have had at least a door. Instead the doorway is open, welcoming, unafraid of either guests or thieves. As she ponders, Romana walks up from behind, looking for what has caught Brisa's attention. But as always the young women is in turn easily distracted, and she waves to Trystan and Anuje as they join, coming up Lonely Street from the center of town.

Roxanna ponders the woman and the building. "Most curious."

Benedict nods slowly, fretting, then turns to Anuje and Trystan, smiling. "Good morning..."

Brisa glances to see whom Romana is waving at, then smiles and waves herself at the arriving Trystan and Anuje, "Good morning! How are you both?" She takes a curious, cautious peek into the building as she waits for her friends to join them... what's in there, that there's no door? Glancing briefly into the small home, Brisa sees it is brightly appointed. The windows are open, a flash of color, and the scent of wildflowers. Inside she can here someone walking, but they must be beyond the view through the wood cased opening.

Trystan smiles warmly, "Doing well, thank you. Yourselves?"

Anuje smiles and waves. "There you are. How is the Lady?" She's freshly groomed, no evidence of the smoke and grime from yesterday. The roots of her hair seem to be lighter than the brown that everyone is used to seeing, though.

Brisa grins at Anuje's question, "Depends on which Lady, I guess?"

Anuje asks, "The Atteran?" She glances at Roxanna. Brisa also glances at Roxanna, a tad worriedly, but curious as to Roxanna's estimate of her.

Benedict says, "Oh! Lady Kay."

Anuje nods. "Yes. Lady Kay."

Roxanna sighs. "She's had a rough time. I don't think that she's broken any vows, or that she's been ignored by Lady Attera -- but she's very bitter about her life." Trystan furrows his brows with concern. Benedict frowns slightly. He can't help but remember what Lady Kay had said happened to her: 'The truth.' He can't help but be worried at that.

Anuje nods. "Maybe she just needs friends. Locked up in that tower all the time..."

Romana nods quietly, still at Brisa's shoulder. "Like cracked mirror... yes?"

Benedict blinks, and glances around. "Erm... now that we're well away from the Dragonstooth..."

Brisa straightens from peeking into the odd little house, to turn and look at Roxanna. Curiously she says, "Roxy... I am thinking, if it is not rude of me to ask... what is the agreement that you make with your Lady? Is it that you turn away none that are injured... and She always gives to you so you can heal? I ask because the dama spoke very bitterly about her keeping her part of a bargain...?" Anuje glances at the little house, wondering about the door. Trystan tries politely to not look like he is listening to Roxanna's answer.

Anuje blinks and reaches up to her hair and glances around, looking back at the house. "Auntie?" Brisa's startled gaze turns to Anuje for a moment. Trystan raises a curious eyebrow at Anuje.

Benedict blinks to Anuje. "I'm sorry, who's 'Auntie?'"

Anuje blinks and has that did I say that out loud? expression for a moment. "Uhm...I wasn't aware of any relatives here." Brisa looks back at Roxanna curiously.

Roxanna blinks as Anuje walks toward the building, then turns back to Brisa and shrugs. "That's roughly the agreement, yes. We turn no one down, and She gives us her protection. Any who harm one of us will never have her blessing."

Brisa frowns thoughtfully, "Then... could she have been harmed by someone... that Attera later helped? Maybe that's it?" Anuje winces and puts her hand on her head, pausing a moment. Standing closer to the door, she looks inside. A quick glance inside the little building reveals little more than what Brisa saw. Wildflowers, bright colors and the sounds of someone just puttering about inside.

Roxanna says, "More likely the reverse...someone accepted Her help and then hurt her. I suspect... I could be wrong, but it seems to me that she is suffering from something other than physical harm, though." Trystan lets a soft sigh of sadness out through pursed lips at Roxanna's idea of what might have happened.

Brisa is talking to Roxanna, but her gaze is following Anuje with great interest. She nods quietly at Roxanna's comment, adding only, "Perhaps someone in town knows." She looks back at Roxanna, adding curiously, "Can Atterans heal each other?"

Romana bites her lip, taking a breath and crossing her arms. "To hurt a healer... only..." She swallows looking down the street to the gate beyond. "Only Marin's that out of balance."

Brisa nods slowly, looking back at Romana a touch worriedly, "That... was what I was thinking also, babochka..."

Roxanna nods. "Physically, of course. Mental healing... that is much harder. There are no spells for it." Trystan nods quietly in agreement with Roxanna.

Brisa adds to Roxanna quietly, "I... think her wounds are mental."

Benedict frowns slightly, trying to remember what his teachers taught him about the Lady of Mercy. "Could... could she have decided to stand on her own... to heal others outside of the auspices of an Imperial temple... and been essentially... well... abandoned?"

Roxanna grins at Benedict. "I doubt that would be a problem. She does not discriminate in her Mercy."

Benedict looks to Roxanna. "She doesn't... but the Imperial Court does. Maybe she stood on her own to help 'pagan' peoples... and the Imperial Temple refused to help her in some time of calamity."

Roxanna says, "Now, she may have run afoul of the prejudices of some of the other God's adherents. But that would not be a problem between her and the Lady of Mercy."

Anuje looks back at the others, waiting. Brisa sighs softly, "Well... maybe captain Garrick would know what, if anything, happened to her." She glances over at Anuje, smiling faintly, "So... you have relatives here in town? I thought only Benny did?"

Brisa shakes her head at Benedict, "The Lady Kay spoke bitterly of a 'She' not keeping her promises, Benny."

Benedict ponders for a moment, and nods, chagrined. "Erm... good point." Brisa looks inquiringly back at Anuje.

Anuje shrugs. "I don't know. I won't unless I meet her, will I?"

Roxanna says, "I know. That's what puzzles me. She may just be blaming Her for some event."

Brisa nods to Roxanna, "That's my guess. I just don't know what it might be." Trystan blinks, the blank look on his face indicating he is deep in thought.

Benedict blinks to Brisa. "I don't have relatives here, Brisa... unless you mean Lord Random?"

Brisa gives Anuje a faintly puzzled glance... then gives Benedict a puzzled glance also, "That... is strange... Benny, didn't you say you had relatives here? Are they all gone now? You said you'd originally come from here, then to Talantal?"

Roxanna says, "That may have been just his itinerary, Brisa."

Brisa says, "Ah. My mistake." She smiles apologetically at Benedict, then grins at Anuje, "So... introduce us to your maybe-auntie?" She steps to the open doorway and knocks lightly on the frame as she looks around inside, calling quietly, "Good morning?" then smiles and steps back so Anuje can walk in first.

Roxanna clears her throat. "Maybe we should let her talk to her relatives in peace, Brisa?"

"Good morning, come on inside. I don't bite. And I don't hug unless you ask me to!" The voice from inside is light and very friendly.

Roxanna says, "Or maybe not..."

Anuje chews her lip. "Uhm... okay." She glances at Brisa and then steps inside. "Hello." Brisa grins at Roxanna, then glances inquiringly at Anuje, to see if she wants company or no. Anuje glances back through the door, wondering if her friends are going to come in or not. Brisa follows Anuje quietly... she's starting to recognize that look!

Trystan bows his head softly as he enters, smiling warmly. "Hello, m'lady." Benedict frowns slightly, the small talk twitching something in his mind. Maybe something Lord Random had mentioned...? He shakes his head to clear it, then follows the others in from behind, the thought still nipping at his heels.

Brisa nods politely, looking around for the saffron-gowned woman she'd seen enter earlier, "Gospazha?" Roxanna follows along with the group, looking around with interest.

    Bordertown: Lady Kara's Temple
    This room is bright, washed with light, windows open and airy. A simple space, it seems more suited for a morning's conversation between friends than more serious matters. A set of comfortable chairs, a table of polished oak, a carafe of wine and a plate of bread and cheese set out for the rare occasional visitor. The scent of wild flowers fills the room, each nook and cranny and shelf supporting a crystal vase and spray of color. A single icon betrays the true nature of the room, however. Upon one wall is a huge wooden cross, a simple post and crossbeam made of perfect ebony.

Stepping inside, and it is spring again. The brightly garbed woman is standing precariously balanced on a small box, adding water to a tall crystal vase of flowers. Standing only a little more than a handful high, she is a portrait in brightness. Friendly, she is hardly ever without a smile, her pale blue eyes sparkling beneath her soft blonde hair. Her dress mirrors her friendly nature, a bright matching of under- and over-tunics always in playful colors. Ribbons lace her hair, and silver embroidered knot work race along her collars and cuffs. She turns, stepping off the box with a small bounce, still holding her little bucket. "Goodday! I be Kara."

Brisa blinks, looking around in surprise... this is not what she expected! She glances around the beflowered room a little bewilderedly... then glances back in startlement at a sudden thought -- could this be a woman like Allena? Trystan bows delicately, "'Tis a pleasure to meet you, 'lady."

Anuje stares for a moment and smiles. "I'm Anuje. These are my friends," She gestures to each, "Brisa, Roxanna, Romana, Trystan, and Benedict." Brisa nods politely. Anuje notices Trystan's bow and quickly does as well. Benedict blinks, his eyes getting used to the shadows, and quickly bows as well as the others do.

"Six of you?" The little woman blinks, her brow wrinkling as she thinks. "Water or maybe... some wine? Here have a place to sit. Do you like the flowers? And what can I do for you. I just don't usually get visitors, you understand."

Brisa looks even more puzzled, but sits quietly where she's been pointed to, "Water is fine for me, gospazha." She wonders who this woman thinks they are.

Anuje nods. "They're quite nice. Water, please. It's too early for wine."

Benedict is by now completely befuddled, and it takes a little effort for him to get his mind in order, to keep it from flying in several different directions. "Ah... water, please, madam."

Trystan smiles, letting a light bow touch his frame again, "Thank you. That is very kind of you." Looking around, he almost says, 'wine,' but catches himself and thinks it more polite to request water.

Roxanna says, "The flowers are quite nice. We were curious as to what this place was. No need to trouble yourself about us."

"Win..." And then Romana pauses, looking to Brisa. "Water fine for Romanas, toos."

The Lady Kara nods, and brightly walks into another room. A heartbeat or two later she does return, one hand carrying a handful plus one of wooden goblets, her other a now more filled little wooden bucket. Carefully handing out each in turn, she fills them and smiles. There's enough room for all to sit, save her, but she also doesn't seem to mind. "So... how is your day, can I ask what I can do for you? Are you in trouble?" Brisa quietly settles on the floor next to Romana's chair.

Benedict blinks, stopping short just before taking a sip of the water. In trouble? Is it that obvious? He mentally rebukes himself, albeit worriedly, at the mental slip. "Trouble, madam?" Brisa looks a bit puzzled at the lady's questions. Romana looks down to Brisa and smiles, reaching down to sift her fingers through her companion's light hair. Brisa, distracted, smiles up at Romana... then goes back to quietly sipping her water and curiously watching this woman. she must be a... what are they called... a follower of Mother Nature? All these flowers, and that folk avoid her, and that she expects us to come to her only if we're in trouble... I wonder if she does potions or possets or something for folk?

Anuje sits close to a window and takes a sip of the water. "Trouble? No... not any more."

"Well, you are all too healthy for my normal visitors, and you haven't been brought by the guard, so usually it means that you've had trouble with the law and need advice. Or..." Kara smiles brightly, "...or did you just come and say good afternoon?"

Brisa grins at that, then says cheerfully, "Good afternoon!" She glances around, caught by a sudden thought... are there any blue flowers?

Roxanna says, "The latter, actually. We wondered why there was no door on the building, too. We're from out of town."

Anuje grins at Brisa and nods to Kara. "Just to say 'hi'. Your nice home is very... compelling."

Trystan smiles warmly, "And it's always lovely to be in the presence of another who appreciates the beauty of nature," looking to the flowers surrounding them.

Looking for a chair and finding none, the bright-hearted lady sits down on the floor across from Brisa. "Good afternoon to you too. From beyond Bordertown? Tell me, tell me of a story from far away! I do so love stories... oh... the door? I don't need one. What's someone going to do? Kill me in my sleep? Everyone comes through there eventually, so why bar them?" The strange woman nods to Trystan, "For sure. It just gets so... drab come the Storm Season."

Brisa says curiously to the lady, "What do you do, gospazha, that folk in trouble come to you?"

Anuje smiles to Brisa. "She makes them feel better, of course."

"Oh, I'm Lady Kara. I'm Krysta's lady, yes?"

Brisa blinks, going still! -then slowly starts moving again, "Uh... da? I um... I would truly never have guessed, gospazha...?"

Romana just blinks, her hand pausing in its soft strokes upon light hair. "Krystshallah's?"

Anuje glances between Kara, Brisa, Romana, and Benedict. Brisa looks around the room again, even more puzzled... light, air, cheery colors, bright clothing, sparkling eyes... this is emphatically not matching the gloomy, black-clad descriptions she's heard! She wonders a little bemusedly if what she's heard about Krysta is completely wrong too... and the goddess of Death likes... likes singing and dancing or something?! Brisa shakes her head firmly -- being silly is not a good way to be courteous to the priestess of another deity! Roxanna's eyes narrow, but she is puzzled too by the divergence between what she thought she knew and what she sees.

Letting out a long sigh, Lady Kara looks back to Brisa. "Why is it that everybody always says that."

Brisa looks embarrassedly into her cup and mutters, "Pardon, gospazha..." The back of her neck flushes for a moment.

Anuje chews her lip. "So... uhm... have you met Tashka?" Brisa's gaze snaps back up at that question. Anuje says, "And Allena? Have you met them?"

Lady Kara closes her eyes, considering. "Not... personally."

Benedict blinks, almost giving a start. Krysta's lady...? His own thoughts are echoed by Brisa's. And yet... somehow... somehow, he doesn't feel the need to be surprised. Jagnar is called Dark; that doesn't mean Krysta must be... and yet... why is she not in black...? More mysteries from the Second Age! With what we've discovered, I could almost write a book to open the eyes of everyone back in the Talantal Temple... The thought of writing a book such as that mildly amuses him, but it evaporates from his mind at Anuje's questions. Tashka and Allena... He leans forward to listen to Kara's answer. Brisa also watches intently, hoping for more from the surprising lady... then struggles to stifle a sudden bemused snort of laughter -- that profession explains the lady's airy disregard for someone potentially killing her!

Anuje ponders the flowers and glances at the open door. "How do you keep the flowers alive during the storm season?"

Brisa gives Anuje a slightly pleading glance, then carefully murmurs, "If not personally... how... did you see them?" She pauses, trying to figure out how to ask questions like this, then adds, "What... how are they?"

Looking to Brisa, Lady Kara just shakes her head, "Do you really want to get into a heated theological debate? isn't enough to know she's at rest finally?" She lets herself be easily distracted by Anuje's question. "Oh! A warm fire, lots of Her light, water every day. I talk to them too. I sometimes grow them from cuttings out back." Brisa looks a little puzzled again, but settles back to think about Kara's comments. Anuje nods. The strange priestess smiles, "Thank you. It's too nice a day to get into an argument."

Benedict finds himself more interested, and not only because of what Lady Kara might say regarding Tashka and Allena. From what he vaguely remembered, Krysta is the final judge of the pagans... not unlike Hastur for the Imperial Court. He looks to the flowers Lady Kara so lovingly tends. In fact, they are the only flowers he's seen so far in Storm Season -- no, wait... there were others he'd seen, growing... growing within the Dayallan temple. Brisa glances up at the lady, even more puzzled... how were her questions a debate? -this is... very confusing... but smiles politely (if still bemusedly) and nods. She sips her water quietly, thinking.

Anuje takes a drink of water. "Well... uhm. I bet you're really busy..." She bites her lip, knowing the truth of it.

Roxanna sips to be polite. "Why a debate?" Brisa glances at Anuje, then suddenly wonders... this is Anuje's auntie?! Trystan also sips quietly at his water.

Lady Kara looks to Roxanna and nods. "Because her Lady teaches that her sisters are placed among the stars... yet in the end everybody comes home to My Lady's embrace."

Brisa blinks again at the strange priestess... then says calmly, "Who is Krysta related to? Does She have sisters? Nieces?"

Shrugging softly, the bright priestess looks back. "Krysta was born all alone, when the First Firstborn was killed by the First Secondborn, and from then she has always stood on Her own. But there is one that amuses her..." And then Lady Kara stops and just speaks to the air. "Hush. Or no more puppies. No, I am not going to say anything."

Brisa gazes steadily at Kara, her eyes bright with curiosity. Trystan peers over the edge of his goblet in mid-sip. Anuje stares as she listens. When it looks like the strange lady will say no more Brisa says softly, "Who was the First Firstborn and the First Secondborn?"

Trystan tries to break a little ice, leaning respectfully to Anuje, "Puppies are always nice."

Anuje blinks and glances at Trystan. "Ya... I had one or two." Trystan nods, inviting follow-up from Kara. Benedict blinks a bit in surprise at her words. Puppies...? A sudden image of something akin to Romana's Friend, invisible and looming and filling all the empty space in the small room, makes him shiver, and for some reason he feels guilty about it in the presence of the bright priestess -- bright priestess of death though she may be. Amuses her? She couldn't mean Lord Jagnar, could she? Maybe... Oh, Lord Hastur, are we getting into something much, much bigger than ourselves again? The unbidden, self-answer to his plea -- yes, of course we are. -- does not help.

Lady Kara considers, "The First Firstborn, the Lord of the Horses, of course. In the beginning there was the Forest, those who ran through it, and the ever changing forms of Chaos. So he was the first runner, the first galloper. However, the Secondborn, I don't know. Something that hunted the Firstborn." And to Trystan the priestess smiles, "They certainly are. Though her puppies are more shy and they have colder fangs."

Brisa frowns quietly, "The Lord of Horses is not dead, lady. He snapped at me just yesterday for an honest mistake."

Benedict gives a start. The Horselord! "But-" he starts to splutter, then strangles whatever else he was about to say.

Anuje nods. "I heard him... before he appeared, he laughed like a girl." Brisa blinks startledly at Anuje... the strangest things have been coming to light recently! Trystan gives a look that says 'there's nothing wrong with that' to Anuje.

Benedict blinks, and slowly looks at Anuje. "'Laughed like a girl?'" Something doesn't sound right...

Anuje shrugs at Trystan. "I didn't say there was anything wrong with that... just didn't seem to match his huge form." Brisa waits curiously for the priestess' reaction.

Lady Kara just shakes her head. "So you brought Him around yesterday... but no, I think you might have been hearing someone else, little one."

Benedict blinks as Kara mentions the Horselord coming to apparent life as if he stopped by for a visit. But... "Could... could she have heard... I don't know why this popped into my mind, but... Krysta laughing...?" Anuje presses her lips together, thinking.

Brisa says curiously, "What do you mean by bring Him around, gospazha?" Surely not that He was revived or anything... He was far too peeved at me for that.

Just shaking her head, Lady Kara says, "No, I don't think so. That's not Her manner." Benedict nods slowly, almost unconsciously drinking his water. No, it wouldn't be Krysta's style, he imagined. But then, if not the Horse Firstborn himself, then... well, who? Lady Kara just holds out her hand and shrugs at Brisa's question.

Brisa looks blankly at Kara... then looks faintly surprised -- she wants to be paid?! Ah well... Brisa supposes the priestess must live on something... she pulls out her pouch and says politely, "I am new to town, gospazha... what is the going rate, please?"

Anuje blinks at Brisa. "Uhm... I don't think..."

The priestess blinks. "Oh, no... I just meant I promised not to say, that's all."

Brisa says, "Oh! Pardon me, gospazha." She tucks her pouch away, thinking... then curiously adds, "Who did you promise to?" Benedict coughs slightly.

Lady Kara just leans back and laughs. "The one I'm not talking about."

Brisa grins cheerfully, "Well, it was worth a try."

Anuje smirks. "Thank you for the water, milady."

Benedict grins, and nods, "Yes, thank you very much."

Trystan grins in spite of himself at Brisa's trying to coax the Lady into divulging her secret. He finishes his water and looks around for a place to put his empty goblet. Roxanna grins in spite of herself. "Didn't work, though." She's... torn, here. Death is the enemy, but Krysta does not seem to be the grim and eager Death that Jagnar is reputed to be.

Brisa mentally runs through the pagan court, looking for whom might be a niece to Krysta, can't be a male, so that rules out Khannish, Jvrill, Marennenn, and Khol. Don't think it's Risha, since she doesn't move around... which leaves... she blinks, thinking bemusedly, no one! No... that can't be right! She finishes her mug of water and places it quietly on the table, then smiles, "Gospazha, if your silent friend ever changes their mind on your being able to talk, I would be very interested. Short of that... I will not tease at you... but thank you for your time, and for the interesting news." Anuje stands and offers her hand for the Lady to stand. Brisa wonders curiously who has such a need for Krysta's shy puppies... then grins and shakes her head amusedly... who would have thought the lady of Death would like puppies?!

"You are more than welcome. I get visitors so rarely." Carefully Lady Kara gathers up Brisa's goblet.

Trystan stands politely, "And thank you so very much, m'lady for having us."

Brisa thinks about Kara's comment for a moment... then nods, "Well... I sort of understand why, I suppose." She smiles a little shyly, "If... you do not mind visitors... we will be here all storm season...?"

Benedict glances to Roxanna, then looks to Kara. "Madam... I... er, realize this may be a question you've heard often. I... cannot hold in my curiosity. You see... well... I am from Talantal, madam, and... erm... to be honest, Krysta does not have the brightest of reputations there. May I ask... well... may I ask... erm... well... what are we in Talantal not seeing? Erm... besides anything beyond the teachings of the Imperial Court," he adds with a wan grin.

Lady Kara looks back to Benedict and smiles. "I don't know why. It's quite simple. I know when I die, I will be in My Lady's embrace. And no matter what anyone says, when they die, they'll be My Lady's. It could be tomorrow, it could be a hundred years from now. It's inevitable. So why worry about it? You should enjoy your life while you have it, yes? So why shouldn't I?" Reaching up, she takes Anuje's hand, pausing to whisper to her as she stands.

Brisa tilts her head, thinking... interesting philosophy. Benedict smiles, and inclines his head, "Thank you, madam."

Roxanna smiles. "A cheerful philosophy, milady. I hope you won't be offended if my sisters and I try to put it off as long as possible for everyone?"

Brisa glances with sudden, mischievous interest at Romana, wondering if she can hear that whisper. Anuje glances at Kara and smiles awkwardly. Looking back to Brisa, Lady Kara smiles, "Oh, visitors would always be welcome, yes..." And then she just looks at Roxanna with her brow raised, "Now, we said no theological arguments today, yes?"

Brisa grins and nods politely to Kara. Anuje says, "You want my corset, Romana? I don't think it's working." Brisa blinks at Anuje... then laughs in spite of herself!

Romana doesn't answer, but she is watching Anuje curiously... and she blinks, looking at Anuje closely, "But it uncomfortable looks?"

Brisa grins quietly, "I think kisa was making a joke, mishka."

Anuje nods to Romana and smiles to Brisa. "Am I? Can you tell me anybody that has been fooled by it?"

Brisa is still grinning as she adds to Anuje, "You can't really blame the corset, kisa, if there are supernaturals whispering on the wind about it to people, can you?"

Placing her hand upon the small of Brisa's back, Romana nods, "Uncomfortable joke, yes?"

Anuje nods to Brisa, conceding her point. Brisa adds, suddenly losing her humor, "Kisa... as long as it fools people like Michael, it is worth the wearing."

Roxanna says, "Da."

Benedict says wryly, "I was, at least until you were wounded..."

Anuje grins to Benedict. "You're too kind." Trystan chuckles quietly, finding a spot on the ceiling exceedingly interesting. Anuje frowns slightly at Brisa's comment. "If I'd to worry about him, Roxanna and Romana should worry twice as much, as they're each exceedingly pretty." Benedict blinks, frowning slightly. This is a story he hasn't heard yet.

Brisa shakes her head, "Not an Atteran, kisa, and not a tall girl. Garrick said he liked small ones."

Romana just looks back to Anuje and shakeshakeshakes her head. "Roxanna is Lady Attera's... and Romanas are... taken."

Brisa blinks at Romana a bit startledly at the 'taken' comment, but doesn't say anything about it. Instead she nods politely to Kara, "Gospazha, we should take our discussion elsewhere and not bother you, I am sure." She glances at her friends, then tilts her head towards the door.

Benedict glances to Brisa and nods, standing and bowing to Kara. "Thank you very much for your hospitality, madam!"

Anuje nods and turns to Kara, bowing slightly. "Thank you."

Roxanna nods to Lady Kara. "It was a most interesting chat, milady." Brisa steps out the door quietly, getting out of the way in the small room, and waiting for her friends outside.

Trystan bows again delicately, "Thank you again, Lady," and he also heads toward the door. Romana simply smiles back to Brisa, and sashays out the door. Brisa grins at the graceful swirl of skirts as Romana exits. Roxanna chuckles at Romana's exit and follows her out. Anuje waits for the others to leave and glances quickly back to Kara before stepping out after her friends.

Benedict says lightly as they walk away, "Well... that was eye-opening." He hopes nobody hurts him for the pun. Brisa groooans at Benedict! Benedict grins softly. "Sorry."

Brisa grins back, shaking her head, "P'jalst... and I don't believe that anyways!"

Benedict's smile fades a bit. "But it was... illuminating. I thought black was Krysta's color, not yellow."

Brisa nods quietly, "So did I." She glances at the open doorway and smiles, "But... I suppose her feelings on life explain it well enough -- she obviously likes colors. I can't blame her."

Romana looks back to Brisa as she walks out the door, waiting patiently, her hands behind her back. "Lady Kara nice." Brisa nods again to Romana, still smiling.

Anuje nods. "It's too bad everyone stays away from her. I'd think you'd want as a friend." Trystan nods silently.

Brisa grins at Anuje, "Well, it's not like she'd intercede for you, I'd think? I'd think you'd be better off wanting her as a friend simply because you enjoy her company... which so far, at least, I have." She smiles thoughtfully as she continues wandering down the street with her friends, "Interesting places, towns..."

Benedict clears his throat slightly. "Speaking of interesting places..."

Brisa glances down at Anuje and grins, "So, is she your auntie?" then glances over her shoulder at Benedict curiously, "Da?"

Benedict sighs softly and drops his voice. "Mordyn, one of the barmaids at the Dragonstooth, took a bit of a... more than slight interest in what we were doing up on the hill."

Brisa pauses, watching Benedict keenly -- then suddenly ah!s, and lays a gentle hand on Benedict's shoulder, "I am sorry, Benny-varishch. She fooled me also... I thought she was interested in you." Roxanna tries to suppress a chuckle at the thought of Benedict being importuned by a barmaid. She's mostly successful. Romana settles in besides Brisa, matching her pace. Her gaze snaps to Benedict, listening quietly.

Benedict says, "I had thought so too, actually. That would at least be less worrisome from the point of view of our involvement in really odd things lately. I tried to dissuade her from it, saying that we hadn't found anything like treasure, that whatever it was that Marin's avatar was interested in probably wasn't treasure, that we were still looking, and that I wasn't looking forward to what we might find up there. But I think she took that to mean that we might still find treasure there. Or..." He falls silent fretting, his master's words again problematically ringing in his mind: 'There is no such thing as a coincidence.'

Anuje considered an answer to Benedict's question, and looks slightly relieved when the topic changes. Brisa grins quietly at Anuje... but at the look of relief doesn't press the question for now. Instead she says, "Or what, Benny?"

Benedict frowns, thinking for a bit, then shakes his head. "She... didn't seem dissuaded at all. She asked specifically about something up there that Marin's avatar might find worth protecting, not knowing of course what we did find up there... but it's a curious thing to say, I think. She's not interested in treasure, I think. It's... something more."

Brisa thinks for a bit... then nods, giving Benedict's shoulder a gentle squeeze, "P'jalst, Benny-varisch. If you wish, we can just ask her what she's seeking."

Benedict blinks to Brisa. "I don't know if that's wise, actually, Brisa," he says worriedly. "You know I don't believe in coincidences. There's something she's looking for and I think we should be cautious..."

Brisa nods, "As you wish then."

Anuje hmms. "Or I could find out what she does after work... uhm..." she blushes, "-I mean what else she does."

Brisa grins at Anuje, "That cannot hurt."

Benedict blinks to Anuje, then says wryly but a bit pointedly, "It's not like I found out specifically what she does after work."

Brisa tries to cover a grin at that. Anuje looks at Benedict. "Uhm... sorry?" Anuje shrugs and looks helplessly at Brisa.

Benedict chuckles softly, and sighs. "It's all right, Anuje, I'm sorry if I snapped."

Brisa grins cheerfully at Anuje, "P'jalst, kisa! Just let us know if you find anything interesting, da?"

Anuje exclaims, "Oh! I pounded your..." She quiets down a little, "I got your Wheels pounded."

Brisa gives Anuje a rather perplexed look for a moment -- then laughs, "Ah, I understand! The wolves and daggers, da." She grins, "Good! Now we can sell them for metal weight."

The sun is almost directly overhead by the time the six travelers wander back towards the center of town. This close to the midday meal the town well is almost bereft of its gaggle of goodwives. To their left, however, the market is now in full swing. The stalls flow into the street itself, with wagons and stalls covered in faded canvas. There are tinkers and smiths and potters there, and the scent of spices and sweetmeats drift up from the south.

Anuje puts a friendly arm around Benedict's shoulders and looks up at him. "Don't take it so hard. She doesn't know what she's missing. If the women in this town weren't so busy patching up cuts and fixing things, why... you'd be too busy for us." Brisa chuckles.

Trystan playfully chuckles, "She's right."

Benedict chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Thanks, Anuje, but it doesn't bother me. I'm more worried about just what Modryn is thinking. There's something more to it than just her wanting treasure..."

Anuje frowns slightly at Trystan and looks around speculatively. "Who's she?"

Brisa looks around, sniffing the air and feeling a little hungry... she glances at Trystan, murmuring quietly, "Careful, Trys," then heads for a stall that sells sweetmeats.

Roxanna says, "That top-heavy barmaid."

Anuje hmms and nods, patting Benedict on the back. "Well...I guess so. If it was treasure she wanted, she would've stopped looking when she got to you." Brisa grins over her shoulder at Anuje, and nods.

Benedict blinks and smiles to Anuje, blushing a little. "Thanks..."

Trystan hooks his thumbs under his armpits and with a thick High Tarn farmer's accent, chimes, "Whoy, if ahee was a garul, Ah'd be lookiee if'n ah could keep mesel' from wraslin' ya teh da groond roit naw!" Anuje laughs at Trystan's antics. Benedict just... looks... at Trystan. Trystan clicks his cheek, "'course, I'm not, so you're safe... from me at least... now, the barmaid... I'd watch out for her now..."

Benedict grins. "Thank you."

Brisa eyes Trystan with wary amusement, then turns to the sweetmeat seller, and buys two of his wares. She grins and shyly offers one to Romana.

Meats and sausages all wrapped in spices, everything you'd like to have the morning nices..." "... Hey there pretty one, samite from far off to drape your lovely form..." "...pies for a meal, vegetables and veal..." The merchants bark, tempting Brisa and the others. Romana's eyes go wide and she just starts to drift away, every little thing attracting her attention.

Trystan puts his hand dramatically up as in doing an 'away,' "I hear she's... fiesty."

Anuje smiles at Romana's back. "Ohoh. There she goes..."

Romana smiles, turning back from her distracting travels. She brightens, her fingers stroking Brisa's as she accepts the small pie. "Panca... thank you, Brish'khhya..." Trystan smiles warmly at Brisa and Romana.

Brisa grins again at Romana's 'pancakes,' then murmurs quietly, "Bol'shoye radushye, babochka."

Anuje's stomach complains a bit when she smells the enticing smells of the market. She looks to Roxanna. "Would you like anything, milady?"

Trystan holds up a hand, "Let me, please?"

Roxanna is looking around, sizing up the different foodstuffs being offered, and decides on a veal pie. Anuje smiles to Trystan. "Methinks you must be quicker, sir."

Trystan approaches the dealer and turns back to his friends, "What would you like?" He turns back to the dealer and purchases their fancies.

Brisa nibbles quietly, still smiling as she watches Romana. She knows the pretty Easterner won't be able to resist the fascinating sensory display for long... and she also knows Midwinter's is coming soon. She'd like to find something Romana would like, for a present. Romana's sensory explorations are certainly focused, as with fierce gusto she attacks her meat pie. Every now and then she wipes her lips with the back of her hand, smiling and quietly mmmmmmmmmmm'ing. Anuje looks around at the market as she bites into her pie, looking for a merchant that sells dye.

Trystan smiles, handing the delicacies to his friends, "'tis nothing at all. Benedict? Would you like something as well?"

Benedict blinks, drawn from his reverie. "Oh! No, but thank you! I guess... I'm just not hungry right now."

Trystan nods warmly, "As you wish." He starts into his own confection.

Roxanna nibbles on her lunch, watching Romana with some amusement and continuing to look around the marketplace for both medical supplies and -- perhaps -- something that Lady Kay might enjoy. Brisa looks around thoughtfully at her friends... then smiles, "Tovarishchye, tonight I will be having a small celebration on the hill-" she nods towards Random's tower over the town's roofs, "-at sunset. I would like to invite you all, if you wish?"

Benedict blinks. "A... celebration?"

Roxanna looks intrigued. "At sunset?"

Romana blinks and looks up, her eyes sparkling. "Celebration... can Romanas come? Should Romanas something bring?"

Brisa nods, "Da. I will be making a pyre for Tashka and Allena. It will be a small one, but as Tashka said, She watches over the Wild ones as well as Temple Dayallans... so I thought, this I would appreciate if someone did it for me, and so I will do it for another sister in arms." She smiles, "I will be taking a little food and drink, so it is a proper celebration for them."

Anuje hmms. "What time does Mordyn finish, Benedict?"

Benedict looks to Anuje in surprise. "Mordyn? Erm... whenever that evening's revels end, I imagine..." He nods quietly to Brisa. "I'd be... glad and honored to be there, Brisa."

Anuje nods to Benedict and looks to Brisa. "I would be too. I should leave early enough to follow her, though."

Brisa beams, looking pleased, "Spasebo!"

Anuje will pick up some dye to match the brown in her hair if she happens across it in the market. Not in the stalls per se, but in one of the shops surrounding the open market there comes the most wonderful and exotic smells. While most might think just a rich dama's perfume, Roxanna can pick out the subtle underscent of medicines. A jewelry stall, a seamstress... a little of everything can be found here.

Benedict blinks to Anuje. "You're going to follow her...?"

Brisa looks very happy as she glances around, "Now I have a few small things to buy, and then I will be ready for us all to go up there, da?" She glances around thoughtfully, then wanders towards the exotically scented shop. Trystan mms as the scents fill the air around him, following well behind Brisa, lost in the moment.

Anuje smiles to Benedict. "Of course. You didn't think I was just going to ask her, do you? I don't think I'd even have as much success as you did... much that I think my physical prowess is undaunted in the face of... most pieces of metal, you're at least twice the man I am."

Roxanna says, "Follow Mordyn? An interesting idea..." She catches the scent of herbs and starts looking for the stall selling them. "Thank you for asking, Brisa. I would be honored to assist." Brisa beams at Roxanna happily, following her towards the stall. From newly learned habit she glances around, keeping track of where Romana is. Anuje takes another bite of pie as she looks at the wares.

Brisa searches visually amongst the sweet-scented wares. She's heard of woods and things that smell nice when burned, although she's never seen it used... but it must surely still look like wood and be recognizable as such, she'd think...? Perfumes and medicines can be found in the little shop that Brisa explores, including lengths of sandalwood and other scented oils. If it smells, it can be found here... where a cloth seller has some dyes that might suit Anuje well. Romana, however, has vanished into the market, as if she had her own private shopping to do. Brisa mutters under her breath, heading out purposefully, tossing a, "Back in a bit -- Romishka's wandered off!" over her shoulder to the others. She looks around outside the shop... where is the crowd most agitated?

Trystan mms? "Oh... Do you want help?"

Benedict blinks as Brisa runs off. "Maybe if we split up...?"

Roxanna says, "Brisa... she might be wanting to get you a gift. Let someone else find her?"

Brisa blinks at Roxanna blankly, "Schto?" then blinks again... then flushes again, "Oh!" Anuje nods, quickly paying for her dye. Brisa wanders back into the shop, looking a tad embarrassed, "Um... would one of you mind?" She adds hastily, "Just in case, you know..."

Trystan chuckles warmly, "Sure... Anyone else want to help look?"

Brisa grins a little sheepishly, "Spasebo, Trys." She tries to look busy over the sandalwood.

Trystan smiles cheerfully, "Nae problem."

Roxanna says, "Yes. I can do it myself, though."

Trystan looks, wondering if anyone else is coming with him, then exits the warm, scented air of the shop into the bustle of the crowd outside. It isn't an agitated crowd that attracts Trystan's attention, but the louder than normal calls of the merchants. At the center of one particular stall stands Romana, pushing a large stack of coins across to the wide-eyed merchant, "Is enoughs?" Anuje follows after Trystan, looking around for the distinctive Romana.

Trystan leaps up and pushes his way through the crowd toward Romana, putting a hand paternally on her shoulder, "How much was that again, m'lord? I missed it in the noise." Anuje notes Trystan's intervention and moves to a nearby shadow behind the merchant's tent. Trystan smiles warmly to Roxanna, "What a wonderful choice, I'm sure she'll love it." Turning again to the merchant, preventing him from getting at the money too easily, "And how much was it again? I'm afraid it was drowned out again in the noise of the crowd."

Romana looks up to Trystan and smiles, "Nice, yes?"

The merchant nods and looks down at the pile of coins. "Two fullhand crowns?"

Trystan nods, "Yes! It is beautiful... but dear, it can't be more than a few... you've got much more than he needs. Here, luv, put the rest away."

Romana looks to Trystan and smiles, collecting back some of the coins, "This betters?"

Anuje sidles up to Trystan from her place and whispers to him. Trystan smiles warmly, picking back coins, sliding them back across the countertop back toward Romana with the deftness of a sleight-of-hand artist, leaving what he thinks is a reasonable amount for the gift. Trystan gives a look to the merchant saying he knows how much the trinket is worth and that yes, there is slightly more than that amount on the table now, and to take the amount he is offered and be quiet about the money he saw the girl flashing... Anuje glances around and wonders if he plans on bribing the whole crowd. The merchant frowns at Trystan and Anuje, but then collects his monies. Romana smiles, gathering up her choice. "Thanks yous..."

Trystan follows that piercing look of his with, "May we have this wrapped?" He looks to Romana, "Luv... the nice merchant might have some pretty packaging to put this in, make it just the perfect way to present it to..." leaving his sentence open-ended with a smile.

The merchant just looks to Trystan and shakes his head, "I don't know what you are talking about..."

Trystan points to one of the soft pouches hanging against a far wall, "One of those will do, I'm sure, won't it?"

The merchant nods and snares down the pouch. "That should be a pair of guilders."

Trystan purrs in his warmest tone, "But you know you've gotten much more than that on top of what you'd usually get, isn't it?" He smiles, "-and doesn't it just bring out the beauty of it... why, I'd be surprised if you didn't start selling them as a set anyway!" He holds the pretty pouch open for Romana, "Here you go, luv." With a smile, he turns to the merchant, "Thank you, m'lord, and a good day to you." Under his breath he intones, "And a good profit, you understand."

Romana smiles and slips her gift inside, and then bounces, "Find Brisa now?" Trystan hovers protectively but politely around Anuje and Romana, fussing quietly about how much Brisa will like the present, making sure no spectator gets any ideas about 'rolling' this pretty little waif.

Anuje leans across and whispers to the merchant, "How much would it cost to get something assessed?"

The merchant asks, "What do you want assessed?" Anuje pulls the necklace out of her tunic, not leaning forward far enough for him to see the corset. His eyes widen noticeably and he swallows. "Uhm... 1000 crowns?"

Anuje blinks at the merchant, then frowns. "I think it's much more than that. Want to try again?"




Last modified: 2001-May-08 20:00:31

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