Goblin Town -- Logs

The little dragon is awakened a few hours later by a cheerful Josie, eyes bright and tail wagging. Cinnamon yawns and blinks sleepily... then grins in spite of herself, "Hi, Jojo! What's got you all fluffy and happy today?"

Josie plops down to sit tailor-fashion, still wagging, "Can you feel the difference?" If Cinnamon is quiet a moment, she can easily realize that the ship is back to the calm rocking and no longer feeling like it's plunging up and down mountains. Elsewhere in the ship, Willem is cheerfully bringing Thorn and Alfred hot coffee.

Cinnamon tilts her head thoughtfully after putting on her glasses -- then beams excitedly, "Oh! Finally! The storm is over, yay!" She leans over and hugs Josie impulsively -- then scrambles out of bed, "Awesome! Let me get dressed and we can go have breakfast, okay? Is Spice okay too? -and everyone else?"

Josie giggles, "Spice is asleep. She's kind of adorable when she's all burritoed up and just her hair sticking out of the blankets. Everyone's fine. Shane and Veles and Jaeger are all on deck. Most of the Havvargar are on deck, too -- even Fraser."

Cinnamon giggles at Josie's description of Spice, then asks hopefully, "Is there... maybe a hot breakfast today?" Her stomach rumbles as she speak, causing her to squeak in embarrassment and blush, "Sorry!" She also grins at the awakening Aisling as the young dragon hastily pulls on clothes, "Hey, I had a great idea last night, Aisling -- we should swap! Like, I'll help out on deck, since I'm strong and sturdy and might as well have it be useful, you know? -and you can go calm the two moon-called wolves down tonight -- and that means you can find out if Fraser is yummy or not too!"

Josie hops up, nodding, "There is -- and hot coffee and tea!"

Cinnamon beams exuberantly at Josie, "Oh, yay! Let's go eat -- I'm starving!"

Aisling laughs and her amber eyes twinkle, "I'd be happy to go spend time with them... except I think the brig is one of the few places on the ship that has a lot of iron."

Cinnamon blinks in dismay, "Oh! I'm so sorry, Aisling -- that was dumb of me! I didn't mean you should get hurt or anything." She grabs up her waterproof jacket last of all, ready to depart the cabin as she adds darkly, "Though... I think I may still offer to help out on deck tonight. Fraser's... just... well, weird without his, er, his... filters, did you call it, Aisling?"

Aisling stretches and starts putting on her clothes. It's almost odd to see the ethereally-lovely woman wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. "Yes, no filters -- he's behaving like a primal being... and from what I've gathered, he'll be pissed at himself later." As she trots out the door after Josie, Cinnamon privately reflects that if that's what a 'primal' being is like... she's really glad they're so unusual!

Elsewhere, Thorn too eventually rouses from slumber, waking up to realize that the storm has -- blessedly! -- passed. He peers out the portholes and lets out a breath of relief. "I'll talk with the captain," he tells Alfred, "maybe with the storm passing he'll let you out a bit early?"

Willem enters the room just about that time with two cups of steaming coffee for the two men that have been in the infirmary. His eyes are bright and cheerful -- you'd almost think he got actual rest during the gale! "Oh, I don't doubt he'll be allowed out of here. He'll be on light duty for a day, maybe."

"Oh, good morning, Willem!" Thorn accepts the hot coffee gratefully, thanking the Havvarg.

Alfred sips his coffee with a happy sigh, "How much damage are we looking at?"

Willem chuckles, "Come get breakfast. Once almost everyone is together, we'll go over duty assignments. You know how this goes."

Once in the galley, both Cinnamon and Thorn find a veritable feast. There are dishes of scrambled eggs, piles of bacon and various sausages, heaps of toast and southern-style biscuits, tomatoes, fruit, hot coffee, hot tea, and juices. Most of the crew and the rest of the passengers (minus the sleeping Spice) are already there and getting seated at the long tables. Cinnamon's eyes light up with delight, "Oh! How wonderful!" and she happily grabs a plate and gets in line. Thorn too inhales deeply and immediately has to keep himself from salivating. Breakfast smells delicious in totality. He also gets a plate, waiting patiently in line. The smells alone are invigorating him from his sleep.

Jareth and Fraser are manning the food; there are a lot of heaping portions for the Havvargar as a matter of course, and for any of the passengers that seem happy to have heaping portions. Arvid is sitting in his seat already with a pile of food and a mug that looks like it holds at least half a quart of coffee. He also looks exhausted. Cinnamon glances at Arvid with a pang of guilt. Here she's strong and sturdy -- just like what the Havvargar need! -- and she's been lollygagging about downstairs at night by the brig. She hopes the poor captain doesn't think she's been selfish... but then she comforts herself with the thought: she'll just work extra hard tonight to try and make up for it!

Thorn didn't exhaust himself the way everyone else seems to have, so he only takes a normal portion -- it's more than enough for him. Cinnamon asks for plenty of food -- she wants to stop the hungry gnawing in her stomach! Maybe... hmm. Maybe baby dragons need a lot of food? That's the only explanation she can think of. She's careful not to meet Fraser's gaze, though, as she asks for food. She doesn't want to be stared at again... though at least he's wearing clothes now, sheesh!

Fraser is actually less intense now. Of course, compared to last night and first thing this morning, there wasn't a lot more intense for him to get! He speaks to Cinnamon in a friendly voice, but doesn't tease her if she doesn't look up at him. Once everyone else has their food, he and Jareth dish some up for themselves and sit down as well... though Fraser is not in his normal spot at Arvid's right. Willem is there instead. The captain looks down along the table, "Thanks to Cinnamon and Thorn, everyone survived the storm. It's the worst one we've been through since we lost our previous captain and Solveig. You have our thanks -- our heartfelt thanks! -- and we owe you a life debt. Both Thorn and Cinnamon."

Cinnamon raises her head and blinks at Arvid, still chewing... then swallows and smiles, "That's very sweet of you, though... um, I'm not sure what a life debt is? And... um, I... well, honestly, there's no way I wouldn't have tried saving Alfred, you know? I, er, it wasn't so that you'd owe me anything, okay?"

Arvid smiles, "Of course you didn't do it to indebt us to you. You did it because it is what you do." He looks at Thorn, "You as well. We still owe you. So, if you feel you need us for anything -- anything! -- let us know. We know anything you ask will be honorable."

Cinnamon blinks a bit perplexedly as she studies her juice for a moment. There was something useful that helped others that she could spend the 'blood debt' from Killa's folks on (and what's the difference between a 'life' debt and a 'blood' one, she wonders), but she can't think of anything like that here, right now. The crew of the Valkyrie are already interested in working with the Council, which should be awesome for the metal-intolerant councilors... hmm. She glances inquiringly up at her friends -- do Shane or Josie or... or Aisling have any suggestions?

Thorn shivers a bit when he hears 'owe you a life debt.' True to form, that is, not wanting any such thing hanging over him like an IOU of Damocles, he blinks in surprise and says, "I'm, uh, honestly, I'm honored! -though the gift I have is meant to be used for whomever I can...." His voice is a bit lame at that last. One would think that by now he would have better experience in trying to turn down favors of this nature, but he's a little wary of offending the Havvargar.

Aisling is listening thoughtfully, and she says, "Actually... there's a possibility that your backup might come very much in handy while we're in Ireland...?"

Cinnamon brightens, "Oh! Oh, that's an excellent idea, Aisling!" She beams as she turns back to Arvid, "Would you be willing to help us on- er... wait, moment..." She turns apologetically back to Aisling and Shane, "I'm sorry -- it's your trod! I should let you guys do the explaining!"

Aisling nods and gives Arvid a quick rundown of the situation, ending with, "We are going back to the Trod of the Rowan to take care of this. We hope that there will be no violence, but... there may be unpleasantness." She trails off and sighs.

Arvid rumbles thoughtfully, "But you would rather have an ace in the hole."

Cinnamon nods brightly, "Yes, please!" Thorn nods in agreement with Cinnamon, soberly and a touch grimly.

Arvid considers this for a moment... then actually starts to smile, "We would be happy to be warriors for you! Even if all we have to do is look grim."

Cinnamon beams at that, "Oh, thank you so much! You're very kind!" She nearly giggles at Thorn as she adds, "So, whose debt thingie should we use up on this? You want to? I know you don't like having them, right?"

Thorn blinks and lets out a breath of relief. Well, that was easy! "Yes, thank you," he says to Arvid. Then he blinks at Cinnamon, "I'm... not sure? Wouldn't it depend on if they consider that this counts for us both? Maybe?"

Cinnamon grins encouragingly, "Ask them, maybe?"

Thorn looks inquiringly to Arvid -- he's perfectly fine with letting this cover "his" life-debt! "I'm sorry, I'm not really familiar with life-debts." He's studiously not looking at Jaeger, certain that the sidhe is extremely amused by this.

Cinnamon nods in agreement, "Neither of us are, really?"

Arvid smiles, "I was considering as for both of you. You worked as a team, I thought? But it is an old-fashioned way of saying we owe you a very big favor."

Cinnamon nods at that, "Okay!" She's perfectly happy with the debt going to something that will help Shane! ...and Aisling too, of course. Oh! Also Quinn -- because maybe if he's not always worried about danger, Cinnamon will be able to coax him into letting his wife come visit, or him going to see her, or something like that? She sighs happily -- she absolutely loves romantic stories! This is one of the best, she thinks.

Thorn smiles quietly, "I'm fine with that. And we appreciate the help greatly! We... aren't certain what will happen there." Cinnamon nods in agreement again!

Arvid nods and the rest of the Havvargar make sounds of agreement. There's actually quite a lot of grinning and chuckling. Apparently they look forward to doing this sort of thing. Aisling leans close to Cinnamon and murmurs with playfulness in her voice, "I think they miss being Vikings."

Cinnamon laughs quietly, "Well, hopefully this will be nice and peaceful!"

Aisling nods, "From your mouth to the gods' ears." After that, everyone digs in to breakfast, with the Havvargar slowly filtering out to get back to work.

Cinnamon pauses, considering for a moment... then adds to Arvid, "Oh, also? It hit me that someone sturdy and strong is more useful helping out on deck, right? So... I figure tonight I'd make sure I was available for that instead. Sound good?" She's certainly not going to give the entire truth of her reasoning, however -- she doesn't care to be mortified by having to admit that Fraser naked and staring gives her the heebie jeebies!

Arvid nods, "Of course. We would welcome your help. And there is no storm tonight, so there will be less need for comfort in the brig." Despite her not saying anything, Arvid is giving Fraser a hard look.

Cinnamon looks pleased, "OK!" After that she goes back to finishing off her breakfast, completely missing the captain's glare! After that, Arvid explains there are a lot of repairs which need doing. There will be parts of the ship that will need re-tarring, sails to mend, and ropes to be checked and (in some cases) spliced to take out badly-frayed sections. Anyone willing to help is pressed into doing so.

As it turns out, Thorn is glad to help out with what ropework he's picked up. He probably shouldn't be trusted with splicing critical rigging, but he's more than happy to apply the tar-brush as needed -- because there's a lot of tarring to do! Jareth and Alfred are put on sail-repair duty, and Josie and Spice offer to help with that. Shane and Veles pitch in with some of the minor carpentry. Cinnamon and Aisling are actually both pressed into doing a lot of fetching and carrying. Arvid is quick to explain that Aisling is fast and therefore good for getting things swiftly from one place to another, while Cinnamon is sturdy and helpful with getting heavier things steadily to the ground or across the deck. Cinnamon nods and accepts the assignment without question -- whatever the captain wants! She enjoys the work, singing along with the crewmembers when she has enough breath to do so.

By the time the day's work is done Thorn feels like he has a coat of tar on him -- he now understands why one of the maritime jargon terms for a sailor is a 'jack-tar'! Fortunately he's been wearing work coveralls -- but still, the sticky tar gets everywhere... to the point that he wonders if there's a place where tar can't get to. As the sun goes down, Fraser and Rafe both go down to the brig again. The night passes in peace.

When the sun rises the next morning, there's a knock at the door of the room Cinnamon is sharing with Aisling. The young dragon mumbles sleepily, "Who'zat?"

There's the sound of a clearing throat and then an almost deferential voice, "It's Fraser, lass."

Cinnamon blinks... then sighs gustily, letting herself sink back into the bed. Why's Fraser here, darnit?! Unless... oh! Duh. She reaches out and gently shakes Aisling's shoulder, "Aisling? Ash? Can you wake up, please? I think Fraser wants to talk to you."

Aisling blinks herself awake a little blearily -- she'd fallen into bed exhausted the night before. She wraps herself in a robe and goes to open the door... to find Fraser standing there. He's back to his normal level of fuzziness and his hair is back to being neatly braided. The big Scotsman blinks as Aisling answers the door, smiling wryly, "Ach. Doesn't want to speak to me, eh? Can't blame her."

Cinnamon pulls the covers up as high as she can, her voice a bit huffy, "I am not dressed for men visitors!"

Aisling is wearing a rather light chemise, and the robe is silk. The beansidhe looks down at herself and then over at Cinnamon, with a friendly little laugh. If anything, Cinnamon is much more modestly dressed in her cozy, warm flannel nightdress! Aisling looks at Fraser and says, "Give her time to get dressed... and maybe meet her on deck, hm?" Cinnamon hmfs in agreement -- in her book, arriving before a lady is up and ready to receive visitors is something done only by those the lady greatly trusts! Fraser is nowhere near that category right now, to her.

Fraser nods and clears his throat, "Aye. I'll be on deck when she's ready." After that he disappears.

Aisling closes the door and grins at her young friend, "You're wearing more cloth now than you were yesterday on deck while we were hauling things around!'

Cinnamon mutters grumpily, "Am not! I had a jacket, sweater, shirt, pants, socks, undies, boots, cap... unless you're counting all the blankets." She sighs, sitting up, "Thanks for shooing him off, though, Aisling. I really don't feel up to being drooled at when I haven't even gotten my glasses on yet!" She doesn't hurry at all... she has a shower and eats breakfast before heading out onto the deck to see how she can help. She doesn't go looking for Fraser at all, in fact. If he finds her, that's different, of course.

Fraser is on deck and watches Cinnamon for a moment before making his way carefully toward her, making sure she can see him coming and that his body language is in no way aggressive. He's a wolf, after all. He knows how body language works. Cinnamon is hauling the big, heavy coils of rope to where they're needed. Fraser can almost see her body language shift into 'I am busy do not try to stop me!' when she spots him... though she doesn't try to avoid him.

Willem and Rafe are with Thorn again and they nudge each other -- and Thorn as well, nodding toward Fraser. Willem's voice is quiet, "Is he likely to get his nose smacked?"

Thorn blinks, glancing over. "Why?" he murmurs questioningly. He's unaware of what Fraser did while being somewhat fuzzier than he is now.

Willem lowers his voice, "There was... ah... some nudity and grabbiness involved, I think. What Fraser has really is a curse. It was meant to drive people away from him because he is... aggressive."

Thorn blinks, "Grabbiness?" He glances back to Cinnamon and Fraser, "Oh... I think I see." He's not at all sure what to say. He's seen Cinnamon be truly terrifying when she needs to be, and has very little doubt that Fraser is fortunate that she's only giving him the cold shoulder. The werewolf could have been thrown halfway to Ireland if he was being too grabby! -even if it is a curse.

Fraser finds something near Cinnamon to lean against. It reduces his height by a couple of inches and lends his body language a relaxation that is the polar opposite of aggression. He clears his throat, "I've been told I owe you an apology, lass." Cinnamon glances at Fraser as she lugs the two huge coils of rope along -- she has no idea how potentially startling her strength might appear to the unsuspecting! She hmfs once, continuing her careful sideways walk/drag of the ropes. She's not trying to be rude -- she simply has no idea what to say. In her experience, ignoring bullies works best... but she's never had one try to apologize to her before.

Fraser swallows and then stops himself licking his lips. From what he's been told, it might seem a little too provocative, "It's not an excuse, but an explanation. I remember very little of the last three days. But Rafe told me I was... ah..." He searches for a euphemism... then gives up, "He tells me I was an utter asshole to you." What Rafe had actually said was: 'She probably thinks you're a rape waiting to happen!'

Cinnamon mutters quietly, mostly to herself, "You were a meanie!"

Fraser bites his tongue before he can laugh at being called a meanie. It's not a term he's had applied to him by anyone over the age of eight. He clears his throat again, "I truly am sorry, lass. Rafe says I was a bit sexually inappropriate." He smiles wryly at himself, "I'm a flirt most of the time, I know, but during those three days I can be... a bit too aggressive in it."

Cinnamon is pretty much past Fraser as she moves the rope... which gives her an opportunity to sort of hide behind them while she's both moving and thinking. He did act like a bully and a meanie to her, which she hates. However... if he's telling the truth? Hmm... then that'd mean Aisling is right and he was just, er... 'primal.' Unfiltered. She sighs, stopping to peer around the rope coils at Fraser, and carefully asks, "So was that, um... really you? Or... or cursed you?" She glances around, wondering where Shane is. She'd really like his assurance that she's not being lied to, after all!

Fraser clears his throat again, "I was also told in no uncertain terms by both Spice and Shane that if I grabbed at you again, I would regret it." As if her thought and Fraser's mention brought him, Shane appears. Perhaps it was seeing the pair of them together. Fraser smiles wryly and sighs, "It was cursed me. The curse turns me into a beast. Not just a wolf. It strips away manners and consideration and just leaves hunger and drive. Some psychology books call it the Id."

Shane's brows are up and he moves to put an arm reassuringly around Cinnamon's shoulders. Cinnamon sighs and relaxes a bit, smiling happily up at Shane, "Hi!" She absently gnaws on her lower lip, wondering how to subtly ask Shane if Fraser's telling the truth. Finally she glances up at Shane again, then tilts her head sort of firmly at Fraser, then raises an inquiring eyebrow at Shane: was that truth?

Shane ahs, then says to Fraser, "Can you repeat that for me, please? I only heard the last bit." Fraser blinks, but then repeats it -- not quite word for word, but it's the same gist. He looks sideways at the expression of concentration on the half-sidhe's face. When Shane relaxes, Fraser does as well. "He's telling the truth."

Fraser nods, "Cursed to be a beast for three days of every month."

Cinnamon also relaxes at that, "Oh, good!" Then she blushes, "Oh! Er, n-not the curse, sorry!"

Fraser laughs, "I didn't think you were saying it was good I was cursed." He offers a hand, "Pax?"

Cinnamon blinks at the suddenly outthrust hand, considering for a few heartbeats. Finally she says firmly, "Okay, as long as you're you, I'm good with that, and hugs and normal polite behavior are fine, okay? But when you're in the three days?" She unwittingly bristles a little, and (perhaps surprisingly) there's a little fierceness in her eyes and voice, "You don't touch me, and you don't stare at me or keep trying to embarrass me by being naked at me! Okay?!"

Fraser listens carefully; he actually flushes at the 'being naked at her' comment, "Ah. Right. Rafe mentioned that I was bare-arsed at some point. No being naked at you unless you ask me to be." He's still holding the hand out. The last isn't said flirtatiously. It's as if he's trying to assure her that she gets to choose their interactions.

Cinnamon hmfs and nods firmly! "Okay, if you get that? -then I'm good." She shakes Fraser's hand... then gives a tentative smile, "Is... that okay with you?"

Shane hasn't moved an inch; his arm is still around Cinnamon. Fraser shakes her hand and nods, "That's OK with me." He nods to Shane with a bit of a smile, "And now I go back to being a bosun. Lass, lad..." He nods and heads off.

Over with Thorn, Willem and Rafe relax. Cinnamon too sighs gustily, not quite slumping in relief against Shane, "Oh, thank goodness! That... didn't go too badly, did it? Do you think?"

Shane sighs, "I think it went as well as it could." He smiles down at her, "He was naked at you? I didn't think you could be nude at someone."

Cinnamon grumbles grumpily, "Well, somehow Fraser managed it!" as she hoists the rope coils back up onto her shoulders. She can't help the small grin as she adds, "I think Aisling might have appreciated it more than I did, honestly -- she asked me if he was yummy!" She giggles, then happily adds, "Thanks for checking for truth for me, Shane! That was really reassuring."

Shane manages not to laugh, since he thinks Cinnamon might take it wrong, "It's a small thing I can do." He gives her a light squeeze, "Aisling is a connoisseur of the male form -- she likes almost all of them! -and sailors tend toward muscular, so..." He helps her out for a few minutes and then gets called away. Cinnamon feels inordinately happier after that!

With no more full moons and no more storms, Thorn enjoys the next several days. He's on deck when Galway is sighted. He's doubly glad to have been able to help out during the voyage, and even more: when he was so attached to Althea's trod he would never have imagined nor dreamed to go elsewhere than the Northeast, let alone overseas! This is both exciting and intimidating for him -- but mostly exciting. By the time the ship comes safely into the harbor at Galway the passengers are all at least somewhat adept at helping with the ship. All of the Havvargar have also mentioned at one point or another what a pleasure it was to have passengers that not only want to help but that also understand the special nature of the crew.

When they tie up, Arvid goes ashore to speak to the harbor master, while the rest of the wolves start helping people with their luggage. Aisling explains to everyone that they've arranged for a hotel for a night so Shane can go ahead to the trod and let them know there are going to be a few extras. Cinnamon is excited! She thanks the crew warmly for being so nice to them all, and then unwittingly looks just like a tourist as she disembarks. Her eyes are sparkling and her head keeps turning back and forth as she tries to see everything! She loves the soft lilt of the Irish tongue, and the gorgeous emerald green of the countryside, and the bustling docks, and, and, and... she's never been to another country, so this is beyond thrilling to her!

Depsite having come in on a private vessel, the group still has to undergo customs. It's a strangely prosaic start to their visit in the lovely country. When the Havvarger also disembark -- leaving only two of their number aboard -- they also have passports and normal paperwork. Arvid speaks in a friendly way with the harbormaster -- apparently they've put in here a time or three. When asked why so many of them are coming ashore, the captain laughs, "Even old salts like us have to get our feet on the ground once in a while!"

Cinnamon is both delighted and scared when she holds out her passport -- will it stand up to perusal?! She firmly reassures herself: of course it will! Veles and Aisling and everyone else that does this sort of thing must be experts at it by now! Still, she's a little breathless from nerves as she's eventually passed through. There's no problem getting them all through customs. It seems to help that Aisling is there -- Aisling and Jaeger both. They just seem to charm the customs officers. Once they're all out past all that, the city is bustling in a small-city kind of way. In some ways, it's much like the States. In others... not so much.

Cinnamon walks slowly, mostly because she's huge-eyed with fascination and excitement -- she's in Ireland, eeeeee! She giggles delightedly to herself, trying to see everything at once. The winding streets! The ancient buildings mixed in with the modern! The lilting accents! The gorgeous knit sweaters omg she has to get one for herself maybe! The young dragon is almost jaw-dropped with amazed happiness. Thorn is glad he brought a small camera with plenty of memory. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity to see Galway -- and he doesn't want to miss any of it! Of course, he knows they're there for a purpose, but in the time leading up to that purpose they have some time to enjoy the city.

Josie is just as wide-eyed and happy as Thorn and Cinnamon. She's traveled for Council business... but not here! Aisling and Shane are both quite comfortable with the city. Shane, in fact, sort of slides into an Irish lilt when he speaks to people. Cinnamon's eyes widen even more as Shane's language shifts -- she thinks he sounds yummy! She giggles and blushes at that thought, remembering Aisling asking her if naked Fraser was yummy. It's about a three-mile walk to get where they need to be, but the Havvarger are carrying most of the luggage. Cinnamon grins at Spice, whispering to her, "Have you traveled before, Spice? Or is this as awesomely exciting for you as it is for me?"

Spice grins and shakes her head, "Nah. Haven't gotten across this side of the Atlantic until now."

The place they wind up in is a pub -- exactly the sort of thing you see in movies about Ireland. Lots of heavy wood. Low ceiling. Polished brass. There are even spittoons, though it doesn't look as if they've been used. Cinnamon almost trips as she walks into the pub -- she's staring around herself in awe and oooh'ing softly! The person behind the pub's bar is pale and shaven-headed. His eyes are a warm brown and he grins widely when Aisling walks through the door, "Ash! Y'lovely thing! And where've you been?"

Aisling moves up to the bar and leans on it, eyes twinkling. There's a surprising lack of iron around. "You know perfectly well where I've been, John... and where I'm going. Did the message make it here?"

Cinnamon grins as she continues whispering to Spice and Josie, "Think we might be able to get out for some shopping today? I so much want one of those wonderful looking pullover knit sweaters!" Her eyes widen slightly at Aisling's comment -- is this John a supernatural too?! She studies him in silent fascination, wondering if there are any 'tells.'

John has rather a lot of tattoos on his forearms, but they don't look like the sort of thing you walk into a tattoo studio to get... and most of them aren't black. Instead, they're a shade of blue. John smiles, "Aye, it did... and I've blocked out all the rooms upstairs for ye. Shouldn't be more than a day or two before someone comes to collect you."

Spice and Josie both grin. The guy just said a day or two. "I think we'll be able to shop, bosslady."

Cinnamon beams excitedly at that! She whispers in wide-eyed fascination to her companions, "Hey, do you think maybe John's sidhe too?!"

Shane, who is close by, murmurs, "Aye. But be careful about what you say here. Not everyone is what they seem."

Cinnamon startles at Shane's voice -- she'd not realized he was so close! "S-sorry!"

Shane grins, "It's OK, acushla. He's a family member, you might say." Over at the bar, John has handed over a large ring of old-fashioned brass keys to Aisling, who counts them, then counts up the people in the group. "Some of us will have to double-up, but I don't think that's an issue."

Cinnamon grins shyly up at Shane... then grins cheerfully at Aisling, "I don't mind doubling up again, Aisling, if you want?"

Willem grins at Thorn with his camera and says, "It's a gorgeous enough place, isn't it? Sometimes it's like being in the old days again."

Thorn remains quiet and observant, letting Aisling and Shane have the forefront and take care of the conversations. He's quite content to stand back a bit and watch, though he smiles to Willem, "That it is! It's utterly gorgeous!

The rooms are not what anyone staying in most modern hotels would expect. Only two of them have double beds. Most of the others have two twin beds. Two of them have only a single twin bed. The ceiling in most of them is sloped and the beds are all seemingly old and wooden. There are lamps on the side tables and enough furniture with drawers that someone could unpack several days of clothes into it. Cinnamon blinks in fascination as she looks around the room she'll be staying in -- then she gives a delighted squeak, "Oh! It's so cute and cozy and quaint!"

Aisling insists that Josie and Spice get one of the rooms with a bed that two people could sleep in. She herself offers to share with Cinnamon again. Shane pairs up with Veles. Jaeger is given the other room with a double bed. The Havvarger split up the other rooms with Willem offering to bunk with Thorn unless the mage/healer wants his own room. Thorn has no problem bunking with Willem, and welcomes the Havvarg's company. He's comforted by the bed-and-breakfast appearance of the rooms -- they look completely comfortable without having any of a hotel's sterile 'sameness' about them.

Cinnamon blinks as she watches Shane pair up with Veles, then curiously asks, "I thought... you were going to give the trod a heads-up, Shane? Do they already know somehow?"

Shane nods, "I was. And if someone doesn't come to 'collect us' as John said, I'll do just that. If the message hadn't made it here, I'd have set off immediately."

"Oh! Okay." Cinnamon thinks a bit, then grins shyly, "Does this mean we can all go shopping today or tomorrow, then?"

Shane grins, "Just try to stop Aisling from shopping while we're here."

Cinnamon brightens at that, "Really? Fantastic!" She giggles, bouncing slightly on her toes, "When can we go out?!"

Aisling grins, "As soon as we get unpacked! Is there something you want in particular?"

Cinnamon beams with a mix of shyness and excitement, "Well! Um, the... er, I mean... like, if I d-don't look like a -- a sausage in one, you know? B-but the... well, the, um, beautiful knit pullover sweaters everyone has?" She sighs wistfully, "Aren't they gorgeous?!"

Aisling smiles warmly, "I think you'd look lovely in an aran jumper, dear. In fact, I think we could all use one. I forget just how 'lovely and misty' translates to 'cold' sometimes. You'd think I'd know better."

Cinnamon beams at that, her voice almost squeaking, "Really?!" She blushes hotly, coughing once into her hand before she adds in a lower tone, "That- er, I, uh, I'd love to get one then!"

The shopping expedition is open to anyone that wants to go, even if all they want to do is see the city. After all, Aisling has lived in Ireland since before Galway was a village, much less a city. She's got several lovely places she points out as somewhere the travelers might want to take photos of. Thorn would like to go with them, if allowed. He thinks that'll be the best way to see a good portion of Galway -- and he's welcomed along happily. From time to time Aisling tugs him by the hand to show him something he might want to take a photo of. She knows all the little nooks and crannies.

Cinnamon patters along delightedly with everyone else, though she tends to forget to take photos unless reminded -- she's almost agog with how gorgeous Ireland is! She's tremendously excited when Aisling guides them all into a store that sells the beautiful aran jumpers, and she happily browses for a color and a knit that pleases her... then checks for large men's sizes in them. She's learned by now in her life to not even bother trying for women's sizes to fit her, after all.

The jumpers come in a lot of sizes and colors. Even the women's sizes are meant to be somewhat roomy, but they're also meant for fishermen, so the men's sizes are quite large. They have to be worn over other clothes at sea, after all. Fortunately, this shop isn't a fashionable one -- it's meant for working folk. Cinnamon tries on several sweaters, narrowing it down to three or four before she anxiously asks for fitting advice from her female friends -- which one looks best on her? Is this color or that better? Spice finally picks one up in a beautiful deep red and says, "This one -- it looks great on you! And fuck, you're being too nervous, bosslady! None of us are Candi or your parents."

Cinnamon blushes at Spice's comment, mumbling, "You have no idea, Spice, how... how frustrating shopping usually is for me!" She is, nevertheless, flushed with joyous excitement by the time the shopping is done -- she has such a beautiful new sweater! She clutches the jumper to herself as she patters up to pay for it... then excitedly puts it on right then and there!

Thorn takes pictures prolifically, especially when Aisling points out several interesting or just plain different sights to him. He follows along eagerly, glad to take pictures of the group as requested, though he doesn't buy anything.

Back at the pub, the food they're served is hearty; it seems like no one that's come near it has ever heard the words 'keto' or 'low-carb.' The party are given a private dining room, though it's a bit cheerfully crowded with this many people. Aisling seems absolutely relaxed. The person that feeds them is small, plump, and apple-cheeked. She chatters happily with Aisling in Irish and beams when people compliment the food. When she speaks English, her accent is so thick as to be almost a parody of itself, "Oh, it's good to have people that actually like to eat -- instead of treating food like a chore to get down!"

Cinnamon almost tries talking in Irish to the barmaid -- but then remembers she's going to try and make it a fun surprise later for her friends. She grins excitedly at that thought... then laughs startledly at the woman's comment, "A... chore? Oh, no -- this is delicious!"

The barmaid wrinkles her nose, "Some of the tourists, y'ken. Want everything with no fat and no sugar. They don't like flavor!"

Cinnamon looks down at her food, suddenly realizing that's precisely what her fam- wait, no! Her birth family... but they're sure not family to her now! -which means it doesn't matter a whit to her that they'd want to -- to adulterate this yummy meal! She smiles up at the barmaid, her voice sincere, "Well, I like this just how it is -- and thank you!" Thorn too is eager to try the food -- it's lovely and delicious, and he expresses as much to their hostess. He denies any desire to have 'different' food, seeing this as just perfect for where they are. Cinnamon also gets to witness Fraser's normal level of flirtation here -- which is friendly and playful and makes the barmaid blush and Aisling laugh warmly, amber eyes twinkling. She kept sunglasses over them for most of the day.

That night, the beds are just as comfortable as they look; there's nothing fancy about them. They're simply good, sturdy, comfortable beds, and the quilts on them seem like they're actual, handmade quilts. Somehow, even the sounds of the city outside are muffled, despite every room having a window.

The next morning, they're awakened by a cheerful knocking on each door and the same barmaid from last night bringing in trays with tea and toast with jam. Cinnamon is quietly delighted at that! She waits until the woman has left before she whispers to Aisling, "Is all of Ireland like this? 'Cause if so, it's awesome here -- why would anyone want to leave?!"

Aisling laughs softly and starts doctoring her tea to her own liking, "No. Not all of Ireland. What we have here..." she motions around the room, "is basically a mini-enclave. The pub isn't as invisible as Coblyn, but humans do tend to just walk on by. Some of Ireland is just as big and bustling and tiring as any city in the US." She sighs happily, "But we're going to be places where it's not. Hopefully they'll come for us today."

Cinnamon blinks in fascination as she spreads orange marmalade on her toast, "Really? Huh, that's cool! So John's a supernatural, then? Is he part of your trod, or are there a bunch of supernaturals in Galway?"

Aisling sits with one foot tucked beneath herself, "John is a member of Rowan, yes. He's sort of our outrider. He can get messages back to the trod if we can get them to him here. He's got internet, but we don't use that to communicate. Too easy to intercept."

Cinnamon nods fascinatedly, munching on her toast. Only slightly muffledly, she adds, "So are v'ere lodda superna-chrals here?"

Aisling smiles, "Here in Galway or here in Ireland?"

Cinnamon says, "Galway!" She has a sip of tea, then grins shyly, "Er, well... Ireland too?"

Aisling smiles, "There's a slightly higher concentration in Galway than in a lot of cities. In Ireland itself... there's a much higher concentration. There's still a lot of open land about. Our kind like that."

Cinnamon nods in fascination, her eyes bright with interest, "Are they all sidhe? Or... ooh! Are there any of those, um, water horses that eat people -- the selkies? Wait-" She blinks, frowning, "That... maybe let's not meet any of those if there are any left. They sound... unpleasant!"

Aisling laughs, "There are selkies, but I think you might mean kelpies. They're more common in the highlands -- Scotland. Not Ireland." She pats her mouth with a linen napkin, "You're mostly going to be seeing sidhe in the trod, but there are others, yes. Nature spirits. And if we're really unlucky, we'll run across a leprechaun."

Cinnamon brightens, "Nature spirits! What are they like?" She blinks, adding bemusedly, "I thought... leprechauns were good luck?"

Aisling smiles wryly, "You've never met a leprechaun. They're mischief spirits... and a royal pain in the arse." She stands and starts to get changed with a complete lack of body-shyness, "You've been walking on Coblyn for a while, but I should warn you: there's going to be at least seven miles of walking from the last place we can drive to the trod."

Cinnamon blinks, turning pink and hastily dropping her gaze down to her tea when Aisling stands up nude! She mumbles, "Oh k-kay! S-so it's all... cross country then?" She sighs internally, wondering if it's easier to hike as a dragon... maybe she should get some hiking boots? She waits until Aisling is dressed before she shyly asks, "D-do you, um... know how to buy g-good hiking boots, Aisling?" She'll be disappointed but resigned when she learns one really should break the boots in before a long hike, however!

Earlier, Thorn too thanks the barmaid enthusiastically. The food is very, very welcome even though he feels still quite stuffed from the night before. It isn't long before he's dressed, cleaned, awake, and well-fed, so he goes down to the main room of the public house. Downstairs he finds Willem, Rafe, Fraser, and Arvid at a large round table. There are the remains of what looks like it was an epic breakfast and the four Havvarger have out some large ledger-type books and what looks like a map... only, it's quite an old map. "Good morning," Thorn says to the Havvarger. He peers closer at the map. "May I look? That looks like a seriously, uh, well-used map."

The Havvarger welcome Thorn to the table and Willem offers him another cup of tea. Arvid smiles, "It is, ja. It's from before there were a lot of gasoline vehicles. Before Galway was a city, in other words. We're just looking at the countryside..." He motions at what looks like rather a lot of open land outside Galway proper, "We don't know where the trods are, but we are looking for possible places we might get in trouble."

Thorn nods a touch soberly at Arvid's explanation; it reminds him quite markedly as to why they are here in Ireland. "Depending on how we can get to the trod," he says, "that could cover a lot of ground."

Arvid nods, "Most of these places -- trods and other such -- you have to walk or hike in. The enclaves in cities are different." He circles an area with his fingertip -- a large swathe of land which looks quite hilly... maybe even treacherous, "We'll be moving through land like this."

Thorn frowns slightly, "Lots of hills. Lots of places to hide. But not only for ambushers, but for us as well?"

Fraser grins at Thorn and nods, "Exactly. It's good to know the lay of the land if there have to be any... hostilities."

There's enough time that day to get hiking boots and even walking sticks -- of the nearly staff-like variety -- before someone shows up at the pub. This someone is petite, redhaired, and freckled. He's also dressed like he's been in the backcountry for a month. When Aisling catches sight of him, she rolls her eyes and sighs, "Fantastic."

When he catches sight of Aisling, he laughs and patters over to the large table most of the visitors are sitting at, "Aisling, you lovely lass, I've been sent to fetch you all." Cinnamon watches, silent and wide-eyed. From Aisling's reaction, Cinnamon is guessing... this is a leprechaun? The slender man is perhaps 5'6" -- short for a male -- and built along sidhe-like lines. If he were taller, he'd be willowy. His green eyes scan the room and he grins broadly, "Oh, you have brought us a lot of new friends!" This guy is about as different from Llewellyn as it's possible to get and be the same species.

Aisling actually snaps her fingers in front of the leprechaun's face to catch his attention, "Sullivan! Don't you even start thinking about tricks! These people are not to be trifled with!" Thorn is quite grateful for the walking stick. Inwardly he wonders if it'll make for a good quarterstaff -- didn't magicians have all sorts of staves and rods in the stories? -- though he looks up when the slender, small man arrives and greets Aisling so vociferously. For a brief moment, he feels like he has a giant target painted on him. Cinnamon nods once to herself -- trickster leprechaun, got it. She sighs internally; she has far too much experience with being the butt of jokes, as a child.

Sullivan actually pouts for about half a second, but then his face clears back into a grin, "OK. No trifling." He looks around at the group, "Wolves... lots of wolves." He whistles through his teeth, adding, "Does Quinn know you're bringing a pack of wolves to his trod?"

Aisling says, "He will soon. And he trusts me, so don't get any bright ideas! How are we getting out to the countryside?"

Sullivan snorts, then replies, "Carriages. Actual ones, with horses. But we'll be ferrying you out to the city limits in a bus." Cinnamon closes her eyes for a moment and sighs in relief at that!

Shane nods and raises his voice to be heard, "Sully, did Quinn send any messages for us?"

Sully mms and replies, "Other than that he's glad ye're back, not much." He grins again, "How soon can you lot be packed and ready to go?" Cinnamon remains shyly quiet, simply watching the interplay with fascination. Since her stuff is pretty much still packed, she can be ready in about... ten or fifteen minutes to tuck her toiletries away. She figures others will need to take longer, so she remains silent. Thorn remains quiet as well. He can pack his own things fairly quickly, but he doesn't want to interrupt. Also, he's not certain he really likes Sullivan -- but of course it's not up to him. He takes his cues from Shane and Aisling and Jaeger... this is their turf, so to speak, after all.

It takes perhaps 45 minutes to have everyone packed and ready, though some of that time is taken up by turning their keys back in to John and settling up any extra costs that weren't already dealt with. When they all troop out to the bus parked outside, the sidhe also discover someone has put extra padding and such around one row of seats to insulate them from the steel and iron in the bus. Sullivan himself is in one of these seats. The driver is a tall, broad young woman with dark hair and eyes but skin as pale as any of the sidhe they've met. She doesn't speak, but she does drive well.

Cinnamon waves shyly to the bus driver, but doesn't say anything. She sits by the window, if she can swing it, and watches the pretty little town go by with a fascinated grin. Josie is just as excited and commandeers the window seat in front of Cinnamon for the drive out. They get out past the city limits and past the suburbs before they pull off onto a dirt lane that leads to a farm where they find carriages and horses. Sullivan makes sure the newcomers know that the horses can only take them so far. There aren't even any actual footpaths too close to the trod.

Cinnamon grins excitedly at the carriage horses, pattering over to gently -- and, honestly, a bit timidly -- stroke the muscled shoulder of one of them. Her voice is soft, "Hi, pretty horsies! Thanks for letting me work on not being spooked... don't want to even accidentally be rude to Iason, you know?" She finds she's feeling inordinately proud of herself -- she didn't even flinch while walking over! These horses are simply enormous -- big cold bloods with heavy bones and hooves you want to stay out from beneath. If they're shod, it's hard to see. Shane is talking to the horses as well, and laughs when one of them bumps him with his large head. The wolves -- Josie included -- are careful to approach the horses slowly, and to let themselves be warily examined and snuffled.

Cinnamon backs away carefully after some patting, still quite pleased with herself -- she didn't scream or anything when they snorted or shifted their weight! She sighs in relief, then beams excitedly up at the long carriages -- she's never ridden in something like this before! She finds them filled with bench seats, and it looks as if each carriage will easily hold a dozen people. Sully explains, "Had to get a second one once we found out you were bringin' extras, lass." He's been trying to flirt with Aisling... and actually seems to enjoy the way she's shutting him down. He himself swings up onto the driver's seat of one of the carriages. The other has another of the tall, broad women driving it. She's just as dark and just as silent as the other. It doesn't seem forbidding... just stolid.

Cinnamon scrambles happily up into one of the wagons, picking a bench seat near the front and side so she gets a really good view. She grins at Josie and Spice, patting the bench next to her with a hopeful expression... since she figures having no space near herself means the leprechaun will ignore her. She's actually really glad that Aisling seems to be Sullivan's entire focus!

Thorn is comfortable with the bus ride -- and again takes copious pictures of the passing countryside. He's a little less sanguine about horse-drawn carriages -- they look to be fairly solid "off-road" (so to speak) vehicles... but they also look like they'll be a bumpy ride. Still, it's better these than any sort of metal conveyance... which would probably give their position away. He'll have to see how vigorous the ride is before taking out his camera. The Havvarger help everyone load up their luggage into the carriages, then swing aboard.

The carriages don't have a lot in the way of suspension, since that would mean entirely too much iron most of the time. But they are solid and the horses drawing them are relaxed -- there's no mad tearing around the countryside. The little caravan spends the first part of their travel on narrow but paved lanes where it's easy for Thorn to take pictures, and for Cinnamon to squeal enthusiastically about the gorgeous countryside with Josie and Spice, who are seated with her. After about two hours of travel, though, the little caravan pulls well to the side of one of the lanes, parking temporarily in a field so everyone can stretch their legs and grab a quick bite to eat. Shane beams as he walks around, swinging his arms and legs to stretch them out. He looks quite young when he does that, "I can feel it! I do love that... the feeling of home."

Cinnamon blinks interestedly at Shane, her half-eaten sandwich in hand, "You can really feel it? What's it feel like?"

Shane stops and thinks for a moment, "It's a pull. A desire to be there. A feeling that it's where you belong." He looks to Aisling, "Is that how it feels for you?"

Aisling nods and smiles, "It's like a bird coming back home after the winter is over."

Even Jaeger nods, "Your actual home trod feels that way, yes."

Cinnamon is silent as she considers that for a bit... then she smiles a bit wistfully, "Sounds... nice?" She glances over at the Havvargar, curiously asking, "Do you guys have someplace like that too? Or is it just the ship?"

Shane nods, "It was. It is."

Arvid is pacing -- for lack of a better word -- around the clearing. He pauses and smiles to Cinnamon, "It's just the ship, but we don't feel that pull. I think it may be a sidhe thing. They are linked to their trods very intimately."

Cinnamon nods thoughtfully... then smiles and goes back to her sandwich. She wonders how the sidhe managed to come to America if they're that linked to- oh. Yuck... maybe a trod did so because their home was somehow destroyed? She sighs internally, deciding not to ask. She doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Instead she smiles after another bite of sandwich and asks, "So how much longer till we arrive?"

Sullivan is sitting slightly apart from everyone else, though also close enough to hear people. He grins, "Two more hours in the carriages and then a hike. So I'd say six more hours."

Cinnamon starts to nod, then blinks... then swallows her sigh and smiles politely as she finishes her nod. Dear lord... four hours of hiking?! She looks down at her sandwich remains... then sighs and sets them aside. Everyone here is in better shape than she is... and she really doesn't want to throw up or something again while trying to keep up.

Thorn has been taking pictures -- and turning the faux camera-shutter noise off on his camera -- but he picks up on the length of time it'll be before they reach the trod. He looks around to make sure they're not in New Zealand for some epic fantasy movie serial that involves lots of walking along gorgeous vistas... then takes in a slow breath, nodding. Okay, it's nothing more than he's done in Basic -- marching ridiculous distances, even with heavy packs, is nothing new to him. But still: four miles of hiking...?!

Aisling says incredulously, "Four hours? Where on earth are you taking us to start the hike? It shouldn't take more than two if we get to the trail head at the boulder!"

Sullivan grins, eyes twinkling, "Oh, how could I have miscalculated that...?"

Cinnamon allows herself a small, relieved sigh. Two hours is nothing to sneeze at... but it's a whole lot better than four! Thorn's thoughts immediately label Sullivan as: 'unreliable narrator.' Or, well, the travel guide equivalent. Aisling looks wryly at Cinnamon and Thorn, "This is why the only leprechaun I trust is Llew."

Sullivan snorts, "He's barely even a leprechaun!" He stands and brushes grass off his rump, adding, "We should get back on the road."

Cinnamon smiles ruefully at Aisling and nods once, though she doesn't say anything -- she doesn't want to draw any of Sully's attention! She just hops quickly back into the big wagon, after tucking a piece of fruit and a bottle of water from lunch into her bag. She whispers to Josie and Spice, "You got any idea how many miles a two-hour hike is?" She blinks... then giggles softly as she adds, "Well, at least it's not..." she singsongs like the old TV show, "a three hoo-uur tooour!"

Josie does some calculations in her head, "Six or eight miles, probably."

Cinnamon nods and grins ruefully, "Well... it's not as long as Coblyn, at least. Hopefully it won't be all uphill."

Thorn is nearby and overhears. He mock-shudders, laughing, "Almost, but not quite, three hours! And even if the weather started getting rough, we should be fine."

Cinnamon looks alarmed as she glances up at the sky -- she'd forgotten that it's supposed to rain a lot in Ireland! "What, um... do we do if it starts raining? Do we have umbrellas for everyone?"

Shane leans forward over the back of Cinnamon's seat and says reassuringly, "It's actually mostly flat and then downhill. You'll be fine." He grins at Thorn, "We've already gotten through a storm worse than the Minnow had to deal with!" That makes everyone in that particular carriage laugh. Cinnamon smiles uncertainly at Shane... then takes a deep breath. She can do this. Heck... she has to do this -- otherwise she'll never get to the trod! -and Iason said they all had to be there.

It's actually only about an hour and forty-five minutes later that they pull up next to a large granite boulder and people start getting out of the wagons to begin the walk to the trod. Cinnamon stares a bit mournfully along the track, clutching her walking staff tightly. Just... gotta do her best. Keep moving. Don't... throw up. Fortunately the hike is actually quite pleasant. The area they're walking through is heavily wooded in places, but Aisling and Shane both seem to know the best places to walk to keep good footing and not be whacked by any branches or trip over any roots.

It's afternoon when they finally break out of the cover of the woods and into a clearing. There's a mound in the center of it, covered with thick grass and wildflowers. Cinnamon is sweaty and panting and nearly exhausted... and also rather wearily triumphant feeling: she kept up! She didn't fall over! Admittedly, her feet hurt like the devil, and she would adore a nice, hot bubblebath... and if everyone else slowed down to help her, she doesn't want to know! -but she made it. Whew! Thorn is winded -- he hasn't done marching or endurance hiking like this in a long time. He studies the hill curiously -- it's very different from the Rowan trod, which (while it also had a 'go away, nothing to see here' ward, as does Coblyn) was a thicket of trees. This hill covered in flowers, though, is definitely the kind of thing people were told to avoid in all the fairy tales!

Aisling stops with the others just past the treeline, while Shane continues moving toward the mound, calling out something in Irish... and someone seems to simply walk out of the side of the hill! The new person looks very much like Shane, though he's an inch or so taller and doesn't really look any older than the half-beansidhe. Cinnamon blinks a bit blearily at the new guy, leaning on her staff and pushing her glasses up with her free hand as she stares in fascinated perplexity at the hill, "H-how'd he do that?!" She blinks again as she forgets the man while studying the fairy trod. A few seconds later she breathes in awestruck tones, "It's... beautiful...!"

The new man laughs and moves to hug Shane and pat him on the back, "I can see that, lad." He puts his arm around Shane's shoulder and starts walking with him back to the group. There still doesn't seem to be any opening in the hill. Back here, there's a bit of an eerie feeling despite the beauty of the place.

Cinnamon blinks as Shane's words register, now that she knows the Irish tongue -- he'd said, "So, we brought a few extras, Da." Her fascinated gaze flicks to the man as she realizes: this is Quinn! She studies him silently, quietly surprised at how relaxed he is about all these new folks at his trod. Is he even wearing a sword?

Quinn is indeed wearing a sword -- rather a large one -- slung on his hip in a baldric. He chuckles as he looks the entire group over. Up close, he looks like he might be five years older than his son. There are enough differences that it's clear Shane isn't a clone, but there's not much way of missing that strong family resemblance. As Quinn's eyes roam over the new people, he says, "You'll have to leave any iron or steel outside the trod. I've got a safe place for it, but I won't have it in the trod itself. We good?" It's an odd phrase to come out of a tall, amber-eyed man wearing a kilt and a baldric with a very large weapon.

Cinnamon blinks in silent fascination at the man -- then blinks again in sudden worry. She considers for a moment... then slowly holds up one hand, "Umm...? Do I... have to leave my glasses outside? I think... I mean, I didn't mean to, but... the screws and hinges...?"

Thorn almost missed the appearance of the strange man, but at the hugs with Shane, Thorn figures this must be Quinn. The resemblance is, while not uncanny, clearly there. He nods at Quinn's question; he'd packed light on the metal since he knew they were going to a trod. He's intensely curious, now. He's only known Athala's trod, not this one. Glancing around for Erin, he asks, "Ah... she may come inside with us, I hope?" He waves towards the spectral magpie.

Quinn looks up at the bird and smiles, "Aye, she can come in. She's a familiar?" He smiles to Cinnamon as well, saying, "Keep your glasses, lass. We don't want to blind you down there, and the amount of steel in those is barely more than the iron most humans have in their blood. You'll be copacetic." Cinnamon sighs in relief, sinking down onto a large boulder to take the weight off her poor, aching feet... and to think: what other steel or iron does she have? None, she thinks? She's deeply relieved that both Aisling and Shane warned her ahead of time to not bring in steel -- she'd simply forgotten about her glasses! She gives a wry glance towards Sullivan, somehow not surprised he 'forgot' to remind the group about steel.

Jaeger actually says, "I vouch for the familiar. She's a creature of my trod."

Arvid and the Havvargar knew they were coming to a trod, so most of the weaponry they've brought with them is bronze. However, some of the shields -- all of which match the carvings along the sides of the Valkyrie -- do have iron strapping and bosses. It's Fraser who steps forward and rumbles in Irish Gaelic, "Thank you for your welcome, Chieftain. We were told we would be coming here, so our weapons have no cold iron. Our shields, however, do. If there is a safe place, may I ask if it's warded?"

Quinn turns toward Fraser and speaks in the same language, "Aye, warrior, it is warded and weathertight. Your honorable shields will come to no harm."

Cinnamon fervently hopes Quinn doesn't ask too many questions. Not only is she exhausted, but she'd desperately afraid of her accidentally blurting out something she'd really rather keep quiet... so she doesn't utterly humiliate herself! Thorn nods to Quinn, smiling at his words -- then looks up to Erin, "Let's go, pretty lady, if you want to see inside the trod." The magpie ghosts down from the limb upon which she was perched, settling on Thorn's shoulder to happily preen his hair.

Curiously, at that point both Cinnamon and Thorn catch sight of Sully where he's hanging back at the rear of the crowd. The ranks of people are, roughly: Aisling, Shane, Cinnamon, Thorn, Jaeger, and Fraser. Then Josie, Spice, Veles, and Arvid. Then the rest of the Havvargar. Sully is half-mingling with the wolves -- it makes it easy for him to appear to be doing nothing much... when both Thorn and Cinnamon catch sight of him slipping a hand into one of the heavy packs the wolves brought from the ship. Cinnamon tilts her head consideringly -- then her inherent honesty causes her to curiously calls out, "What're you looking for in the pack, Sully?" She's careful to keep her expression simply curious, of course... even if she suspects Sullivan is being a sneak thief. After all, the Havvargar are good folks who don't deserve a 'prankster' swiping their stuff. She just hopes Sully doesn't pick her as his next target. Thorn too takes in a breath to call attention to the mischievous (and apparently light-fingered!) leprechaun, but Cinnamon beats him to the punch -- and in a far more polite way than Thorn's intended shout.

Fraser, having done the ritual greeting, smiles and switches to English, "Let me introduce our alpha and the captain of the Valkyrie, Arvid M�nenson." Arvid starts to step forward and offer to clasp arms with Quinn when Cinnamon speaks... but at her query the entire back rank of visitors -- all four of them -- turns almost as one... and Sullivan finds himself faced with four glowering werewolves. Thomas and Alfred have stayed with the ship, so those four Havvargar include Bjarke. It's he who puts a heavy hand on Sully's shoulder when it looks like the leprechaun is going to rabbit. Instead of dashing away, Sullivan yelps and goes to his knees, face contorting in a great deal of pain. Bjarke growls, "Captain, Chieftain..."

Quinn and Arvid both come over, and Quinn motions for his son to come with them. Shane nods and follows his father. The group of visitors has shifted, becoming less of a crowd and more of a semicircle as Quinn comes around and smiles at Sully. It's an odd expression, making the moment of grimness seem to wash completely away. Everyone there at the edge of the clearing has a sense that they can trust Quinn -- he's a trustworthy guy! Why, you could tell him anything at all. To the leprechaun he says, "Sullivan! You got our visitors here safely."

Thorn folds his arms, arching a brow as he looks towards Sullivan. He's unamused by the antics. And now he's going to keep a closer on what the leprechaun is up to, especially if he's a vengeful sort. Arvid taps Bjarke lightly and the enormous bear-like man lets go of Sully's shoulder. The leprechaun sags in relief, then smiles back at Quinn, "I did! Safe and sound... and with most of their possessions intact!" The moment it comes out of his mouth, the leprechaun's eyes widen and he literally slaps a hand over his mouth. Cinnamon sighs and rolls her eyes... then shrugs out of her backpack to check and see if the ties have been futzed with. Thorn blinks as Quinn makes Sullivan speak the truth -- not just sense it but actually speak! Then he sees Cinnamon checking her pack and he winces, starting to check his own as well. All around the group, in fact, people are doing the same thing.

Quinn is still smiling as Sully glances warily around, and the chieftain murmurs, "That so? Why don't you show me what you've got from them?"

Sullivan opens his mouth in spite of himself to reply, "I only took a couple of pieces of jewelry from Aisling because she's a bitch and some money out of the young human girl's bag because she wasn't paying attention. I was looking for maybe a dagger in the stupid wolf's bag." The leprechaun's voice is cheerful as he speaks -- but then he looks like he's trying to push his fist into his own mouth to silence himself.

Willem is the 'stupid wolf' who picked up the bag Sullivan was trying to rifle, to check it... and that crack makes the Havvarg's eyes gleam in anger. Thorn's brow arches very slowly; he does not envy Sullivan at all by this point! He glances around, wondering why the leprechaun thought it might be okay to try to steal from werewolves. Cinnamon scowls as she snaps, "Give it back, you jerk... now!" She doesn't know if Sullivan means her or Spice -- and quite frankly, at this point she doesn't care!

Spice gives Cinnamon a shaky grin, "You tell 'em, bosslady." The young human is a little pale -- she hadn't actually expected to be pickpocketed by someone that was supposed to be helping.

Quinn mms and says, "I see." He glances up at Shane, who nods silently, then crouches to be more on Sullivan's level, "Give them back. Now, Sullivan... and this is your very last chance. We've discussed this before." The leprechaun opens his mouth as if he's going to protest, but then he realizes: not only is his Chieftain wearing a very large sword... but he's also surrounded by very dangerous people! Sullivan immediately starts taking things out of the small rucksack he'd been carrying, and Quinn smiles, "Why not just dump it out?" and Sully hurries to do just that.

The contents of the pack tumble out. There's a wallet and a few pieces of the sort of bric-a-brac that accumulates in any bag, pack, purse, or case. There's also a brooch and a ring. Glancing at the jewelry, Cinnamon notes it's really nice! Silver settings on the brooch, and a really nice amethyst... and those are definitely real sapphires surrounding the lovely opal on the ring. Quinn picks up the wallet and opens it, glancing at the money... then he takes all of it out -- every last note -- and holds it up. Shane accepts the wad of cash and hands it off to Spice. Cinnamon is actually surprised Spice was less attentive than she herself... considering the young dragon had been doggedly trudging along with all her focus on keeping up!

Aisling snatches the jewelry back, scowling at Sullivan, and then Quinn voices Thorn's internal question, "Now, the other thefts are bad enough. But trying to steal from a werewolf?" His voice sounds almost bemused -- a parent telling a child they've done something silly. "Trying to steal from a guest on my trod's territory? Breaching hospitality? You and I are going to have a long talk about this later. I think you'd better go on home." He stands, and the relaxed, trustworthy face turns into a scowl as he snaps, "Now!" The leprechaun shoves what's left back into his bag and sprints away toward the mound in the center of the clearing. If he moved any faster he'd be teleporting!

Thorn almost jumps at Quinn's snapped command, reflecting that this is a somewhat less than auspicious start to their visit to the trod! Still, it couldn't be helped. He really hopes leprechauns aren't the grudge-holding types! He'll have to keep an extra lookout. Cinnamon pushes herself up with the help of her staff, limping over to where Spice is standing next to Josie, and giving her a hug. "I'm sorry, Spice." Scowling after Sullivan, she adds, "He was... was just a real jerkface!"

Quinn shakes his head and rolls his eyes before turning to face people again, "I apologize on behalf of Sullivan. If he breaches hospitality again, he will be exiled. Even leprechauns usually have better sense than that. I swear on the stars and the stones that you are under my protection and the aegis of Rowan's hospitality while you're here." He takes a deep breath and lets it out. As he does, he's back to being the cheerful, welcoming Chieftain, "Let's see... Arvid M�nenson... Moon's Son? Did I get that right? I haven't dealt with a Norseman in a goodly while."

Cinnamon blinks... then whispers to Josie, "What's an aegis of hospitality, Josie? Do you know?"

Josie whispers back, "It means we're under the protection of hospitality. But that also means that we're held to it too. As long as we behave, we're safe."

Cinnamon considers that, then whispers back, "Are there... like, written-down rules or something we should know about?" She has heard repeatedly, after all, that one should be extremely careful regarding agreements with the fey! That doesn't change, she suspects, even if one is one of the fey, after all.

Aisling speaks loudly enough for the whole group to hear, "We should explain hospitality to the ones that haven't been told about it, Quinn." The rules seem to be simple: Don't try to harm anyone -- physically, mentally, emotionally, or otherwise -- inside the trod, and don't steal. Then there are a few more rules -- Quinn says they're good guidelines -- like not making any bargains with anyone you don't know. He also suggests answering things vaguely. The larger part of the group is nodding along as if this is a refresher for them. Cinnamon sighs in quiet relief, and should Aisling glance her way, the young dragon mouths a very sincere, 'thank you!' Aisling grins and mouths back, 'welcome!'

Quinn makes a sweeping motion as he explains, "The entire clearing is the trod's territory. Well... a great deal of the forest is too, but this is a good boundary to be aware of. Everything actually inside when we go in is obviously trod territory." He shifts, resettling the sword in its baldric. Shane is smiling; he's remembering his first time here. Quinn continues, "You can feel the influence of the trod here in the clearing, and I'll warn you that it's going to get worse closer to the mound. At the entrance some of you may even get the urge to run."

Cinnamon raises an eyebrow at that... then can't help the wry grin as she thinks, [Won't be me! I can barely hobble away, at this rate...!] Thorn blinks. He doesn't recall that being one of the defenses of the Elm! But different trods do things differently, he supposes. Aisling continues the explanation, "We can sometimes take it down temporarily, but we don't think it would be wise right now... what with the current situation. So we're going to make you all an offer: Quinn can... convince you nothing bad will happen. But I know that can feel a little weird -- to know that your mind is being influenced -- so another option is to give you a sedative and literally carry you in, if you can't push past it."

Thorn winces a bit at that last 'option,' and raises his hand, "Um, medically speaking? I'd recommend at least trying to go through without being sedated. Sedatives might have weird effects on different people at different dosages."

Quinn nods, "Wise man. Let's try it unassisted first, then."

Cinnamon glances thoughtfully around the group, then asks Aisling, "So are you, um... assuming anyone with a human form will, ahh... panic?" She does a quick mental check: that means... herself, Shane, Thorn, Veles, and Spice... maybe the wolves too, since they're all in human form?

Aisling shakes her head, "Form doesn't matter. If you have a conscious mind, it will work on you. A lot of people can't push through it... but the people here aren't most folks."

Cinnamon sighs and nods... then scowls at the hill, muttering, "Well, let's get this over with then!" She shoulders her backpack, takes a firm grasp on her walking staff... then starts stumping grimly towards the hill. She's just glad Quinn was sort of distracted by Sullivan, and didn't do what Jaeger said he'd do -- and make people nearly babble at him. On the first attempt only Josie, Arvid, and Willem are able to make it past the stay-away... and they all seem to just disappear into the mound when they go!

Cinnamon draws back with reflexive wariness as she approaches the hill... then realizes what's actually happening as she sees folks walk into it. Now that folks have had some time to get used to it and have seen that their friends made it through safely, it might be a little easier? That thought calms her a bit... and she starts forward again -- but then (despite feeling quite sure she could pass if she wanted to) she pauses, watching her friends. She wants to be sure at least Spice and Veles get in safely before she enters! When they make it just fine on the second try, she sighs quietly in relief, and trudges in after them.

At first Thorn can't get close to the trod. He just... can't. He can't bring himself to put his foot in front of the other -- and, in fact, has to fight down an urge to run. Then he pauses, takes a breath, and watches the others enter. After that, slowly, he takes a few steps forward -- not trying to reach the middle of the trod... just taking one. Step. At a time. There's no trick to it; he's just using that to help him focus on the steps rather than on the endpoint, which finally allows him to overcome the urge to run for- er, run away from the hills. By the third try, everyone but poor Bjarke has managed to step through. The big werewolf speaks quietly with Fraser, who then nods and turns to Quinn, "He says you can talk him in. We'd rather not be sedated since we're here as protection."

Quinn nods, "He can help me stow the ironmongery and then I'll bring him in.

Once the group all pass by the false surface, they see they're stepping through a well-made archway and into a tunnel. The floor is earth, tamped down tightly and smoothly after about the first six feet. Before that, it's the king of rugged and ragged that you'd expect from a spooky hole leading into the ground -- apparently a second layer of camouflage, should someone uninvited actually make it past the archway. In fact, those first few steps are the hardest... even the folk who made it in pretty easily past the stay-away can feel their hackles rise -- until they get to the smoothed-out part of the tunnel's floor.

At fairly even intervals along the wall there are candles in bronze or stone holders -- and for a tunnel lit with just candles, it's fairly easy for everyone to see. The grade is steep for about a dozen feet, but then becomes much more easy to walk on. Cinnamon sighs in relief, relaxing a bit as her aching feet finally land on the smoothed floor. Her voice is a bit hoarse, "Everyone okay?"

Aisling is moving up and down along the line of people, checking on everyone and chuckling with some of them about how hard that was, "Oh, it's not even fully powered. At full power even members of the trod can have problems getting past it." She seems to be doing a head count. In response to Cinnamon's question, there are various forms of 'yes.' Thorn too nods a bit shakily at Cinnamon's question. Cinnamon sighs in relief again at seeing Aisling is checking everyone -- the young dragon would ordinarily be happy to help, but her poor feet are killing her by this point! She ruefully resolves to herself: should there ever be a next time (though not if she can help it!), she will believe the nice salesperson warning her that hiking boots should be broken in before the Big Hike... whatever it might be!

Shane volunteers to stay back while Aisling takes folks deeper in -- he'll make sure Quinn and Bjarke come through safely. Everyone else continues on, finding that the walk down and in has a bit of a timeless quality. In the dark underground, with no real point of reference other than the candles -- and even those start to be unevenly spaced -- it's really hard to tell how far you've gone or how long you've been moving. Eventually, there start to be some doorways off the tunnel that Aisling explains are sort of mixed-use: some are bedchambers, some are storage chambers; one of them is the infirmary.

Eventually the tunnel debouches into a large room with a truly massive fireplace at one end, and chairs, sofas, tables, and other bits of furniture scattered throughout. Aisling is the first into the room and walks backward for a step or so, "Welcome to the Hall of the Trod of the Rowan!" That announcement gets the attention of almost everyone in the room. It's moderately populated, and everyone the newcomers can currently see seems to be beansidhe -- all very dark of hair, with eyes ranging from an almost human-normal brown to a color that's too bright to even be called amber -- but rather is really and truly yellow. The hair styles and clothing styles vary pretty widely as well. There's everything from shaved heads, to one person whose hair is in a braid that almost brushes the floor.

Cinnamon smiles tiredly and just hopes they get a chance to rest soon. She's pooped! She glances around a little warily, remembering the vague instructions to (effectively) not really trust anyone... then wonders idly how the beansidhe resolve the cognitive dissonance of promising hospitality but also being willing to trick someone... or at least that's what all the stories seem to say?

There's a general rush of welcome and invitations to sit and to relax. People stand here and there, starting to move furniture around so the sizeable group can all sit together. With Aisling's gentle nudging, Cinnamon, Jaeger, and Thorn are seated quite close to the blazing fireplace. The young dragon smiles her thanks to Aisling, then sighs wearily as she nearly collapses into the sofa. Thank goodness! She made it.

Thorn takes the steps slowly, looking around himself with unabashed wonder. This is only the second trod he's ever been in. Even in the Elm he'd been so thoroughly distracted by Athala as to barely look around... at least until tragic events brought him -- and Cinnamon, and the others -- back there, where he could look at the Trod of the Elm less as a container and more of a home. Here... it's so dramatically different from Elm! It's underground, but it doesn't feel like a subterranean house. It feels... warm, lived-in. A home. And the people! He hadn't expected the sidhe of the Elm to be so casually welcoming in their greeting, but it's not unlike the bed-and-breakfast in Galway... just much more supernatural -- and of course much larger... like a whole underground village. He thanks Aisling, and greets as he is greeted: warmly if a little warily; cautious without coming off as suspicious of their hosts.

The moment Cinnamon, Thorn, and Jaeger are settled, they become aware of someone they are absolutely sure they didn't see sitting there before. The person is sitting in a comfortable rocking chair with a cozy looking throw over her lap. She's a first for most of them: a sidhe who seems to have aged well beyond forty human years or so. In fact, were she human she'd look well into the geriatric years -- eighty-five if she's a day! Her hair is almost more silver than black, and her amber irises are quite pale. Her face has lines at eyes, mouth, and forehead as she smiles warmly and says softly, "Ah. Welcome."

Thorn blinks in surprise at suddenly seeing her. "Ah," he says a little lamely, "thank you, ma'am. We're very glad to be here!"

Cinnamon tilts her head curiously as she regards the woman... then replies tiredly, "Thank you." Is this the beansidhe Shane mentioned almost a month ago -- the one that can hide herself even while writing letters and such? Hmm... must be, actually. Cinnamon nods politely, adding, "You must be, um... the elder of the trod?"

Saoirse smiles and nods, "I am the eldest of the trod, in fact. You may call me Saoirse." There's a book in her lap which appears to be a Sherlock Holmes collection in paperback. She looks from one to the other of them and adds, "You must be Jaeger, because you're the only elf I see... meaning you must be Cinnamon, and you must be Thorn." Her smile is the sort that makes you feel like you've known her for decades.

Cinnamon nods and smiles, "That's me!" She grins tiredly as she adds, "I loved those stories, too. Read them a bunch as a kid!"

Saoirse smiles and her whole face crinkles in a pleasant way, "I read them when they first came out." She looks at Thorn and then at Jaeger, then back to Thorn, "And you're the healer, yes?"

Cinnamon blinks... then nods once and sighs, turning her gaze back to the fire. She's not sure what Saoirse meant by that, but she's too tired to try to figure it out if it was mind games. After all, it's patently obvious the elder is far, far older than just about anyone here. Thorn blinks again, looking surprised, "Yes, ma'am. Well, I try to be, at least."

Saoirse smiles, "All we can do is try." Her eyes go back to Cinnamon as she asks with concern, "Are you well, child? You look exhausted."

Cinnamon says politely, "I'm fine, ma'am. I'm just, um..." she sighs, remembering there are a lot of honesty-based knacks in this trod! "Sorry, I'm... um, badly out of shape." She sighs again, hoping no one laughs or sneers at her... thank goodness her blood family isn't here!

Thorn tries to reassure Cinnamon, "It was a long hike! They do want the trod to be out of the way, I guess. The only reason that I'm not exhausted is because I had to do long marches like this once a month for several years. It'd wind anyone for whom 'walking very stupid distances' wasn't a part of the job description!"

Saoirse smiles and reaches out, patting Cinnamon's knee as she says in a confidential voice, "I am, too. I haven't left the trod in probably a decade or more. It's just too tiring to climb up that tunnel." She then adds, "I read these stories when they were first published and I've gone through at least a dozen copies of the books over the years. I read them to pieces."

Cinnamon smiles in spite of herself at the kind reassurances, then shyly adds, "I liked 'The Adventure of the Dancing Men' best... I'd never seen cryptography before!"

Saoirse laughs warmly and nods, "There have been codes for centuries, but I remember my awe when my grandfather showed me a cypher. Information right out in plain sight and no one can read it!"

Thorn already feels himself settling in, comfortable and at his ease. It's even easy to forget this is a trod of sidhe, and that caution on the part of the mortals like him and Spice is very much called for. He doesn't forget, of course -- but it would be easy to let down one's guard all the way. Perhaps just a little, then; he doesn't want to come off as unintentionally rude to their hosts, after all... which he can't do by being suspicious of everyone asking him to pass the jam. He has to trust that Shane, Aisling, and Quinn will look out for them at least a little bit.

As the three visitors are chatting with Saoirse they also see Quinn, Shane, and Bjarke finally arrive. Shane makes sure Bjarke finds the other Havvargar, while Quinn comes over, settling himself on the hearth with a smile, "We've got Eirich making up some small nibbles. That hike is no joke!"

Cinnamon sighs in relief as people seem to be... well, actually really nice about her being fat and out of shape! This is not the reaction she's used to. In fact... she kind of thinks she really likes this! She smiles at Saoirse, admitting even more shyly, "I... used to write myself messages with that code -- messages no one else could read! It was..." a small bit of rebellion against her parents, "fun!"

Saoirse smiles, "My first lover and I wrote messages to one another in code. Secrets are lovely things." Cinnamon blinks thoughtfully at that. She's never had a lover... yet? -and she's not entirely sure she agrees about secrets... since so often they seem to be used to hurt her. This is a somewhat revolutionary new possibility, to her. She smiles uncertainly and falls silent.

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Last modified: 2019-Jun-12 19:53:32

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