Goblin Town -- Logs

As it turns out, Loman told the truth about the beauty of the place. Where they're standing is a cliff top some thirty or more feet above the water. The tarn itself is deep and cold, the water so dark a blue as to make you think of night skies. Loman smiles and reaches to help the young woman take off her backpack, "Here, set your things down. Take off your shoes. The ground right here is really soft. I sometimes take some time just to wiggle my toes in the dirt." He's being subtle about it, but he's been the one to find a body here once or twice over the centuries -- and every one of the suicides left their things neatly stacked up, here on the cliff's height. Loman is being careful not to skyline himself, largely out of the training to be a ranger.

Cinnamon gives a long, slow, gusty sigh as she looks around... then smiles up at Loman, "You were right -- it really is beautiful!" She blinks at his suggestion -- then grins delightedly, "Okay!" The sun is out and she's actually feeling a little overheated, so this will be a wonderful opportunity to not just catch her breath, but also cool down a little bit! She plops down on a boulder, wriggling out of the backpack and then sighing in relief as she takes her time to get the boots and thick socks off. Once that's done she leans back on her hands, stretching out her feet and wriggling her toes just as Loman suggested. She sighs happily again, her voice a little dreamy, "It's so gorgeous out here!" A moment later she curiously adds, "Are we far from where poor Branigan died? Or are we almost there?"

Loman's face is solemn when she asks her question, quite nicely masking his happiness at how easily she's helping him set up her 'suicide'... though it could be an accident instead, perhaps? Perhaps she slipped... "Ah. Yes. I wanted to show you something lovely before getting to somewhere so sad. You can see it from here, actually." He offers her a hand so he can help her to her feet before leading her to the edge of the cliff, one hand apparently-solicitously on her shoulder.

Cinnamon blinks up at Loman, reflexively accepting his hand, "See what from here? The something lovely, or where Branigan died?" She wobbles a bit as they approach the cliff's edge, "Whoa!" then laughs nervously, "Sorry, sorry! Um, s-sometimes I'm a bit, um... well, my balance isn't the best..."

Loman smiles, "This is the something lovely... but you can see where Branigan died from here. I'll point it out and we can set out when you've rested." He moves to stand behind her, hands lightly on her shoulders. It's a good way for him to be back a bit from the edge and to seem like he's helping her balance, since she seems a bit wobbly.

"Ooh!" Cinnamon leans cautiously, studying the terrain below her, "Where, please? Can you point it out to me?" She's relieved the sidhe is being so nice and holding on to her -- that means she can lean a bit further and better than she'd ordinarily dare.

Her asking him to point it out to her gives Loman an excuse to take his right hand off her shoulder and slip his cosh out of its pouch on his belt, "To the left there. There's a little gully..." There's no such thing there, but he knows that means she'll be peering at it closely.

Cinnamon nods and leans cautiously to the left, "A gully? Okay... um, not seeing it yet, sorry..." Due to being directed to the left, her head is turned just enough that the arm-joint of her glasses is within grabbing reach.

Loman raises his left hand, pointing with it, "Just over th..." Mid-word, his left hand whips her glasses off and the right comes up, the heavy, lead-weighted cosh striking her across the occipital bone. Were she a human the blow would be more than enough to knock her out -- and probably enough to fracture her skull.

Cinnamon doesn't even have time to splutter an indignant 'hey?!' as her glasses are snatched -- because the heavy blow to the back of her head both shocks her... and tips her over and off the cliff. She falls silently, a confused, [Ow! Wha...?!] the only thought flickering through her head in that fraction of airborne time... and then she smashes into the black water of the icy-cold tarn. The shock is tremendous! She's freezing, she's sinking, she can't breathe, and... did something hit her?!

On the cliffside, Loman turns to neatly fold Cinnamon's glasses and set them atop her other carefully set-aside things. He hit her plenty hard enough, but there are rocks at the bottom of the cliff and at the bottom of the tarn. Any bone breaks can be blamed on th... the beansidhe abruptly stands up very straight, though still out of sight from down below, and swears. The motion that caught his attention is much more easily seen now: Shane. The bloody half-breed is running toward the lower end of the tarn, ripping off his quiver and swordbelt as he goes! He pauses only long enough to get his boots off -- thanking all the gods that he had on the modern ones with the zippers up the insides -- and then he's diving fluidly into the tarn.

Loman does a quick cost-benefit analysis, then starts down the path that will take him to the other side of the tarn. The girl's never going to survive the blow plus the plunge into the freezing water, so he's got no worries about what story she might tell... but Aisling did tell him Cinnamon was dear to her, Shane, and the others. If he helps with pulling the lifeless body out of the water, he's sure Shane will be too distracted to be listening with the requisite attention to the story Loman will tell.

Shane himself is diving smoothly through the water. He saw where Cinnamon went in and he's swum in this tarn many a time -- most of the trod has spend some time doing that. He'd gotten a bad feeling about the little dragon and had taken advantage of a break in the questioning to go out in the direction Loman and Cinnamon were last seen. He'd been close enough to see where the ranger was actually pointing them and suspected Loman of wanting a little extra time with Cinnamon, so he'd stayed out of sight and hearing. Eventually, though, he'd curved around to come out at the bottom side of the tarn, knowing they'd likely come that way once they'd taken in the view. When Shane had seen Cinnamon go tumbling, though, he'd had a split second of horror -- and then his training kicked in, and he rushed for the water! The tarn is cold even in deepest summer, after all -- and this is late fall! Cinnamon is tough, but she's also a fire creature. Cold might be something that can truly harm her -- so he's got to get her out of there quickly!

Cinnamon is almost shocky with cold and disbelief -- and her lungs are starting to burn with the need for air as well! She has no idea which way is up in the icy darkness, and it's starting to feel like some horrible nightmare to her. She flounders, thrashing in fright and confusion -- what has happened to her?!

Shane conscientiously took lifeguard lessons as a skill that might someday be needed to keep someone safe; consequently he finds Cinnamon within moments. Sadly, even though Cinnamon is quick to help other people, it's much harder to be quick to help oneself -- especially in a situation like drowning. Shane comes up in front of Cinnamon and immediately realizes she's panicking -- she's floundering and scrambling blindly for anything solid, she can't really see, and she's unsure which way is up. When she first touches him, then frantically tries to clamber up his body, he lets himself be pushed down underwater -- and she reflexively quits grabbing in her terrified pursuit of something more stable.

Shane, meanwhile, swims downward a few feet so she doesn't accidentally kick him, then comes back up behind her. From there he can wrap his arm over her shoulder, tucking his hand under her opposite arm so she can float on her back, and his hip will support her as he sidestrokes for the edge of the tarn. Even then, though, he's having to talk fast because the poor, terrified girl is still choking and flailing. Between breaths of his own, Shane tries to get through to her, "Cinnamon! It's me! It's Shane, acushla! I've got you! Relax! Stop fighting! I've got you! You're safe!"

Cinnamon is thrashing in panic, choking and gasping for air -- did her fingertips touch something?! She can't breathe! Did something grab her?! It takes a bit for her panic to abate enough that she starts to ease off on the thrashing... but eventually it registers: she's getting air again, and... is that Shane's voice? Shane! Shane is safe -- she trusts Shane! She's still panting with fright and clinging tightly to his arm -- but slowly the fog of terror flows out of her. She even manages to relax her terror-tight muscles a little, no longer rigid with fear as she realizes: she's floating, and Shane is... is he pulling her along? She blinks water out of her eyes... well, it sure looks like the sky should look when it's blurry from no glasses...? Cinnamon holds herself very still as she clings to Shane's arm, trying not to cry or hyperventilate or... or let the nightmare get worse...

Loman meets them at the edge of the tarn, just as Shane is dragging the almost-limp Cinnamon onto dry land. Loman does a very good job of sounding stricken and worried, "Shane! Stars and stones! She tumbled over before I could catch her!"

Cinnamon is finally starting to stagger upright, trying to get her bare, cold-numb feet under her at the stony shore. She's still clinging to Shane, rubbing icy water out of her eyes -- but at that voice she looks up, blinking... then bursts into tears, wailing between sobs, "Y-y-you! You! Y-you hit me!"

Shane is trying to get Cinnamon to lay down on the shore so he can check her lungs to see if he hears any water -- but at Cinnamon's wail his head comes up and he studies Loman intently, "You hit her?!"

Loman is staring in shock at Cinnamon, his brown eyes wide and his face even paler than normal. How on earth did she survive?! The cosh, the stones of the tarn, or the tarn itself -- any and all of that should have killed any human! "She... oh thank gods she's safe!" He's thrown off his usual smoothness by his brain being unable to process the very live girl... who is now wailing accusatively at him!

Cinnamon is both coughing and sobbing, so she's somewhat incoherent as she nods, pushing her wet hair out of her eyes, "He did! -a-and then he pushed me -- th' big meanie!"

Shane carefully stands and puts a hand on Cinnamon's shoulder, concentrating on Loman, "Did. You. Hit. Her?"

Loman looks shocked, "Shane! How could you think-!"

Shane snaps again, "Answer me, Loman! Don't fucking prevaricate or I will break your goddamned arm! Did. You. Hit. Her?" For Shane to swear in front of a woman, he must truly be incensed. Loman is glad he dropped Cinnamon's glasses up top. He's pretty sure he can scoot them into the water later... since this is definitely going to have to be cast as an accident! Cinnamon coughs and sniffles, wincing and going as still as she can while still hiccupping tears. Shane sounds... really mad! In her current muddled state, she's not sure... did she somehow piss him off? Did she say something wrong?! She presses her fists against her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs.

Loman's mental gears feel like they're slipping. The half-sidhe is only an inch or two taller than he, but Shane is radiating a whole lot of very pissed-off warrior -- it makes the half-breed seem almost looming! Further, so much has gone wrong -- and in so short a time! How did Shane even know where they were?! This is nowhere near the site of Branigan's accident -- and Loman made sure to be seen leaving in the right direction! At least he's still arme...

As one of Loman's hands dips toward his dagger, Shane's fist snaps out, connecting sharply with the beansidhe's chin! Loman has an almost dreamy moment to think, [The lad hits a tonne...!] before he's spark out on his back. It was a massive blow, but Shane isn't even shaking his fist. Instead, he turns and crouches next to Cinnamon, "Are you OK, acushla?"

Cinnamon nods blearily at Shane, whispering, "'M good, but... he took my glasses, Shane. Why would he do that? A-and... why did he hit me... and push me off th'... off the..." She gulps, her eyes filling with tears again as the shock catches up with her, and she wails, "'M sorry!"

Shane takes Cinnamon's face gently in his hands, "I've got an idea or two. Don't worry; I'll search him, and if he doesn't have them then we'll look up on the cliff..." His eyes finally register that she's barefoot -- and she had no way and no time to get her shoes off, between falling and Shane finding her. His voice is gentle, "Give me a minute, acushla." Then he casually strips Loman's tunic off -- it's loose enough that Cinnamon should be able to get it on. "Here, take off your wet shirt and put this on." Cinnamon blinks blearily at Shane... then hiccups and nods once. She's shocky enough that her usual shyness of shedding her clothing out in the open doesn't register -- instead she obediently peels off her jacket, then fumbles with her shirt. She's starting to not feel as cold, but she's also starting to feel a bit numb... and, weirdly, her fingers don't want to seem to work right for her.

While she does so, Shane uses his belt and Loman's belt to hogtie the unconscious sidhe, then pulls something unexpected out of Loman's belt pouches -- the beansidhe has a satellite phone! Thankfully it's a mil-spec satellite phone, so being used by someone wet doesn't seem to bother it at all. Shane thinks a moment, then places a call. When someone on the other side answers, he replies tersely, "I'm at the foot of the tarn. I've got someone that need warm, dry clothes, and someone that needs to be watched very closely." He's quiet for a moment before answering, "Cinnamon. I'm going to have her start us a fire. Quickly, please." He ends the call and -- with his back still to Cinnamon -- says, "There's nothing for you to be sorry for, acushla. Get that shirt on while I gather us some wood. We could both use some heat."

Cinnamon peers nearsightedly at the phone, wondering if that's hers...? -oh, no, it's too big. Through chattering teeth she says, "M-m-mine d-does that t-too? I -- I set it up th-that way b-before we came here... u-uhh, ok-kay..." She tries... then mutters and yanks fruitlessly at the recalcitrant shirt -- why won't the darned thing come off?! A moment later she sighs in frustration as she accidentally tears it. She has no idea her clumsiness is anything other than the usual, however... so she tries to be extra careful with the pretty tunic that doesn't belong to her. Aside from getting stuck once or twice due to being wetly sticky, she finally manages to mostly wriggle into it... mostly. She's still rolling her shoulders and hoping nothing tears, as she sheepishly admits, "I, um... I d-don't know how to m-make a fire, Sh-shane? I... I skipped that c-class in G-g-girl Scouts..." Her mental disarray is bad enough that she's forgotten she's a dragon.

Shane chuckles, "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll do the building. You'll just do the igniting." It doesn't take him long to get the wood and tinder set up. He also -- and none too gently -- drags Loman off a ways, then turns the beansidhe so Shane will be able to see Loman's face should he wake before they get him back to the trod.

Cinnamon blinks bemusedly at the blur of color that she's pretty sure is Shane, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering a bit. She wishes she had her glasses, so she could see... and she hopes Shane's not too annoyed when he realizes she doesn't have matches either... wait, maybe he does? Hmm... if she leans real close to the fire, she should be able to see enough to strike the match and put it in the right place... and oh! -a good thing: the fire won't hurt her because she's a drag- ...on... wait... Cinnamon sighs, facepalming as she mutters, "I am such a dummy!" Of course Shane wants her to start the fire... she breathes fire! [Good golly, how could I forget that?! Ugh, Shane must think I'm such a ninny...!]

Shane isn't a mind-reader, but he knows Cinnamon... and knows that body language, "Shh, acushla. It's OK. You just had a trauma -- physical and mental -- and you're still new to being who and what you are." He strokes her back gently as he adds encouragingly, "Just lean in... once Quinn and the others get here, I'm going to go up and see if I can find your glasses and other things." Cinnamon is too embarrassed to look at Shane -- especially since right now he can see her clearly, and she can't see him hardly at all! She just nods, her head ducked and her shoulders hunched, and stares at the pile of sticks. Okay, fire she can do... and she'll feel much better, and warmer too, right! Fire... she takes a deep breath, then exhales steadily and slowly over the little teepee of sticks and kindling -- don't want to blow it all over... Shane knows Cinnamon's sight is bad, so he's sure to put emotion in his voice, "You're doing fine. I'll get your glasses quick as I can. I'm just not leaving you alone."

Cinnamon nods uncertainly as she sits back, staring hard at the dancing glow. Her voice is uncertain, "Did I... d-did the fire start okay? Did I get the right spot?" She scooches forward a bit towards the warmth... she really is cold, and the fire feels wonderful!

Shane strokes Cinnamon's hair and -- without thinking about it -- kisses her forehead, "You did fine, acushla." Cinnamon sighs in relief -- Shane's not mad at her! Her small smile up at him is a little quavery, but she's genuinely happier now.

It takes far less time than Cinnamon might have expected for there to be voices calling, and the sounds of people moving in the forest. Shane calls back -- and the next thing Cinnamon knows is she's being bowled over and hugged maybe a little too tightly by a large, furry form! Cinnamon squeaks in shock at being pounced on, "Eeek!" then gasps in relief, "Oh thank goodness -- J-Josie, d-don't scare me like that!" Despite that, she's hugging back very tightly as well... and a few tears are leaking from the corners of her eyes. She sniffles, adding shakily, "I-I'm so glad you and Sh-shane are here...!" Then she blinks as something finally registers... and she confusedly adds, "Though... Shane? H-how did you know wh-where we were...?"

Josie is speaking very fast, and apparently not in English -- or at least Cinnamon hasn't heard these words before. She finds herself literally picked up and set on her feet so the wolfwoman can look at her. Cinnamon just clings tightly to Josie's warm, furry, familiar form -- she's not really worried about being picked up or anything, as long as she has friends near. Finally Josie says in English, "You're soaked!" There's some ruffling and rustling -- and then Cinnamon finds herself picked up bodily and carried a little deeper into the woods as Josie adds, "I brought you clothes!" She shakes her head as she starts helping Cinnamon get into the clean, dry clothes, "He didn't say. You'll have to ask him later. I am so going to bite that awful man!"

Cinnamon blinks in shock at the young werewolf, gasping, "Jojo! You can't bite him -- he saved me! He -- h-how could you say that?! W-why, Shane's not awful at all!" She absently adds, "W-wait, careful with that shirt, please -- it's n-not mine!" as she's neatly and efficiently tucked into clean, dry clothing. She sighs in relief at the socks, "Oh, thank goodness... I couldn't f-feel my toes any more!"

Josie blinks -- and even without her glasses Cinnamon can see the head-tip, "Shane? I would never bite Shane! I meant the other one! The-" she growls and says something that is, again, not English -- then briskly adds, "Let's get you into all-dry clothes so you warm up again, then! Shane's gone to get your shoes and things -- he says he's pretty sure they're up on the cliff."

Cinnamon nods absently, "Yeah, by the b-big boulder there... er, what othe- oh! Oh, y-you mean Loman?" She sighs, then admits, "I w-wish I knew what I did to annoy him s-so much...!" She hugs Josie very tightly again once she's dressed, burying her face against the thick fur... then sighs gustily and mumbles, "So glad you guys are my f-friends...!"

It takes perhaps twenty minutes after Cinnamon is changed into dry clothes for Shane to get back with her shoes, socks, backpack, and glasses. During that entire time Josie is Right. There. The big wolfshifter keeps her arms wrapped warmly around Cinnamon until Shane arrives back -- and even makes a little growling noise when Loman groans and shifts. Several people check in with them as they wait; Quinn is there, as is Veles. There are a few other of the trod's protectors as well. Cinnamon just clings quietly to Josie, seated by the fire with her big, reassuring friend. The sound of people moving around her, when she can't see worth beans, is a little intimidating... and makes her feel a bit guilty for getting everyone all riled up.

Finally Shane crouches in front of Cinnamon, "Got your glasses, acushla." He puts them carefully back on her and makes sure he's smiling when she can see him again, "We're going to head back to the trod. I'm sure everyone wants to make sure you're OK."

Cinnamon sighs in relief, her tone heartfelt, "Oh, thank you, Shane!" She hesitates... then carefully checks and cleans them against the edge of her new shirt before putting them back on. Glancing around, her eyes widen slightly at how many folks are there, and she whispers to Josie and Shane, "Wh-why are there so many people here, guys? Did I... h-has something bad happened at the t-trod?"

Shane takes a deep breath, "Acushla, you're almost exactly on the opposite side of the trod's lands from where me gran'da was murdered. I got feeling a little hinky and thought I'd come out with you and Loman... and I got here in time to see you tumble." He reaches and gently palpates the back of her head, "Does that hurt?" He sounds almost ashamed of himself as he adds, "I don't think Loman's going to wake up until we get everyone back to the trod... I was a little upset when I clipped him."

Cinnamon's eyes widen at Shane, "The opp... osite... wait, what? That... how could...?" She blinks slowly, her gaze drifting towards Loman as the pieces begin to come together in her mind, "So he... ow!" She winces at the touch on the back of her head, blinking at Shane -- then wryly adds, "I... I honestly don't think I mind that you hit him that hard, Shane... considering how hard he hit me?" She reaches cautious fingers to the back of her head, testing where it's sore, as she mutters, "Well... at least it wasn't another bullet, I guess...?" She gives Shane a rather humorless attempt at a grin as she adds, "I take it he's the traitor, yeah?"

Shane sighs, "Most likely, yes. I got irritated and hit him before he answered any questions." He stands and offers Cinnamon his hands, "Upsy-daisy." He's smiling crookedly, "Josie says she's going to take you back to the trod."

Cinnamon tilts her head as she accepts Shane's hands, curiously adding, "...hinky? Explain?"

Josie sounds indignant, "Carry her back! She's worn out!"

Cinnamon blinks up at Josie, "Oh! I, uhh... oh, Jo, I d-don't want to be any trouble?" Admittedly, the idea of not having to walk yet another two hours... sounds like heaven! She just hopes nobody laughs at her if she doesn't walk on her own two feet.

Josie talks quickly when she's upset, "You're hurt and you're probably exhausted and I am not making you walk back when you can barely sit up straight!"

In a very short time they've got things set up so Cinnamon can ride on Josie's back, using an improvised harness for her to put her legs through. Much to Cinnamon's relief... no one laughs. By now she feels almost limp with tiredness as she lays her head against Josie's warm, furry shoulder and mumbles, "Th-thanks again, J-josie... y'r a real good frien'..." Perhaps unsurprisingly, she ends up drifting off into exhausted sleep during the walk back to the trod.

Cinnamon wakes up in a wonderfully comforting, furry heap of friends -- she's cuddled up into a puppypile, in the room which Josie and Spice are sharing! There's a small nightlight candle on the little table by the bedside, which allows her to see that her glasses are folded up there as well. Further, she's warm, dry, and wearing her favorite flannel nightie. Glancing around after putting on her glasses, she also spots her terrycloth robe and plushy unicorn slippers. That makes her sigh softly, smiling at how wonderful her friends are -- she doesn't doubt at all that Josie and Spice (and maybe Aisling?) were nice enough to tuck her into bed.

Just then the young dragon's stomach rumbles, and she remembers: the last time she ate was breakfast! It must be later by now... maybe it'd be all right if she got dressed, went to the kitchen, and asked Eirich for a bite to eat? She slides very slowly and carefully out of the puppypile, not wishing to wake either dear friend, then collects up her robe and slippers and slips out to her room. Once there she checks her cell phone -- yikes! She slept a lot -- it's... wow, it's the next day?! A bit early for breakfast, but... maybe Eirich will be up already? The young dragon pulls out warm clothing and her (decidedly daring, for her!) new boots -- and adds on her lovely new cranberry aran sweater. Soon thereafter she's pattering hesitantly down the hallway, following her memory to get back to the kitchen. She hopes Eirich is there and doesn't mind her arrival!

The cook is already up, whirling happily through cooking all the various bits of breakfast for over one hundred folks. As it turns out he's also quite happy to dish up a nice big bowl of hot oatmeal deliciously spiced with fruit and other goodies. Cinnamon beams and thanks Eirich, and he cheerfully tells her it's no trouble at all! The kitchen smells of bacon and sausage and fresh-baked soda bread, and Cinnamon swiftly and neatly devours the delicious food Eirich keeps handing her... then blinks in startlement as Shane comes abruptly striding into the kitchen! The half-sidhe's eyes are as flinty as Cinnamon has ever seen them, but when he sees her there he takes a deep breath and moderates his expression, "How did you sleep? Josie was acting like a mother wolf with an injured pup."

Cinnamon looks faintly worried at Shane's initial expression... but at his query she blushes slightly and grins down at her empty bowl, "I, umm... wow, I was out like a light, Shane! Like... I must've fallen asleep on the way home, because I don't remember a thing until I woke up this morning -- and I was starving by then!" She beams with pleasure at the cook as she adds, "Eirich took awesome care of me, though! He just kept handing me oatmeal and bacon and sausages and -- and, um... was it cola bread or something? -- and it was all so delicious!" She sighs happily as she looks back at Shane -- then looks a bit worried again as she adds, "So, umm... any news about Loman?"

Eirich laughs, "Soda bread, lass! As in baking soda instead of yeast. I was so happy when chemical leavening was invented!" He offers Shane food, but the young man shakes his head, "No, thanks, Eirich. But some tea? Strong? With milk?" It's only a few minutes before Shane has his steaming tea in-hand, and he replies to Cinnamon, "Well, currently he's under guard -- has been since we got him home." The young half-sidhe clears his throat, "He... was spark out for a while. I really hit him a lot harder than I meant to."

Cinnamon tilts her head thoughtfully at Shane, "Okay... um, can I ask a few questions, please? Like... what's sparking someone mean, please? And... how did you know to follow us? What did you mean by feeling hinky?" She scoops up her cup of tea as well, thanking Eirich again before she moves over to follow Shane when he leaves the kitchen. She has something kind of... well, personally scary to ask him -- so she wants to do so (if she can) in private!

Shane smiles, "Spark out. It's a British-ism. It's someone that's just solidly unconscious. Sparking in American English is courting. It's old-fashioned and not at all what I meant." He sighs thoughtfully before he adds, "I don't know, acushla... something just felt off. Maybe it was Loman's body language, or maybe I heard something and it didn't sound quite true. You know how sometimes you hear something but you don't listen, really?"

Cinnamon thinks about that for a moment... has she ever had a moment like that? Hmm... oh. Duh, sure: all the times that guys were nice to her so as to get close to her sister. The compliments never sounded quite... right to her. She nods with a rueful smile, "Oh, yeah. I think I get it." She hesitates, then adds cautiously, "So may I, um... go with you? P-please? I... have a, er... question for you?"

Shane blinks down at her, "Of course you may?" He's still walking, but he's slowed from his purposeful stride so Cinnamon doesn't have to trot, "You can ask me anything."

Cinnamon glances over her shoulder to make sure they're alone in the hallway, then says softly up to Shane, "So, um... is Loman talking? Or is he being like... like Qadan and Niamh?"

Shane sighs, "Loman is proving unusually resistant to Quinn... which I suppose is how he got past it last time."

Cinnamon nods silently, nibbling absently on her lower lip as she thinks furiously... then she sighs. Well, Shane may never trust her again after he learns about her mesmerizing ability, which is precisely why Elias warned her to keep it a secret. Still, the thought of having to hurt someone to get them to tell you things... she shivers! Nope, not going to do that to Shane! -- or Quinn either! Cinnamon takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and turning to face Shane. She's terrified of losing him as a friend... but equally, her conscience won't let her hide from helping him when he truly needs it -- even if he doesn't know it! "Sh-shane, I... I, er... m-may I speak to you in a private r-room, p-please? Er... actually, m-maybe Quinn t-too, please?"

Shane waits for the little dragon to gather her courage, and when she makes the request to speak in a private room, he nods, "We can do that." He looks around, "Here. Let's go to Quinn's room -- it's nearby -- and then I'll go grab him."

Cinnamon nods in relief, pattering after Shane and clutching her tea mug close. After Shane leaves her in Quinn's room, she looks around with great curiosity, having a few sips of the tea to bolster her courage. It's... surprisingly small and... simple? -- for one of the trod's elders... or, wait. Didn't Jaeger too live in a very simple, yet really cozy and comfortable little house? The building style and furniture here is nothing like Jaeger's home, but... in a way, Cinnamon can see similarities. Both places feel... sort of... well, kind of well-loved, in a way? Like, all the textiles have that homemade feel to them... the little dragon drifts over to a big, sturdy armchair, running a speculative finger along the glowing wood. Huh! Yes, even the furniture has that warm, sort of 'crafted with love' feeling.

The big difference between Quinn's room and most of the others is that it's larger... but not by a great deal. The bed is large enough for two people and has a warm quilt on it, with another folded on a wooden chest set at the foot of the bed. There's a desk and a chair, along with a small armoire -- and also something that looks like it might be a small luxury: a chair next to a small table with a lantern on it. The floor is covered in rugs, and though it's not quite twice as large as Cinnamon's room, it's still cozy without being cramped.

Cinnamon smiles thoughtfully as she looks around, picking the smallest chair to sit in -- that's unlikely to be Quinn's favorite, after all. She turns the chair to face the rest of the room, settles into it, takes a deep breath and has a sip of tea, and reminds herself firmly: she is doing the Right Thing! She's pretty sure Elias would agree too, even though he said to keep this secret. Curiously, the cozy little room makes her feel a bit better too... and perhaps a smidge less afraid of Quinn. It feels like the room of a nice person, after all -- though she grins ruefully at herself as she has that thought. She's been a sucker before, regarding people. Still... hopefully not this time?

Above the desk are two simple shelves full of books. Unfortunately Cinnamon doesn't have any time to go through them, as Shane knocks on the door before opening it. The little dragon jumps guiltily at the knock -- then laughs nervously internally at herself for being so twitchy! The one book title she definitively catches sight of is that the beansidhe guardian has a copy of Tam Lin on that shelf -- and then Shane enters, followed by Quinn. Both men look quite serious, though not forbidding, and Quinn's voice is gentle, "Shane said you asked to speak to us in private?"

Cinnamon's small smile is a bit tense as she nods, "Yes please, because... um, b-because I -- I have a way to, to g-get Loman -- I, I mean, I know Elias s-said to k-keep it secret! -b-b-but, um, I, I... I d-didn't think it was r-right for y-you guys to... to have to, like, h-hurt someone to, um..." She's staring nervously into her tea, absently noticing that her hands are shaking where they're clasped around the warm mug... so she looks up a bit beseechingly at the two men, "You know?"

Quinn stays standing as Shane sits on the edge of the bed nearest Cinnamon. Quinn does, however, learn against the wall by the door, making himself seem a little less tall. When Cinnamon is done speaking, both men are wearing identical slightly confused expressions. Shane says gently, "Acushla, what it is that Elias told you to keep secret?"

Cinnamon blinks as she mentally reviews what she just said -- how could they not get it?! Upon realizing she'd actually managed to stammer everything except what she could do, however... the young dragon blushes hotly, "Oh! I, I, I'm sorry! I just- er, I -- I'm a b-bit nervous, sorry, b-but this is -- er, w-will be -- only the, uh, the s-second time for me... um... oh, right: secret! Um, c-could I ask you both to please... er, s-swear on your rocks and your stars? That you w-won't tell, I mean? Please?"

Quinn puts a hand over his mouth so Cinnamon doesn't interpret his grin as mockery. Shane smiles as he says, "Yes, acushla. I swear on the stars and stones that what you tell me in here will be kept secret."

Quinn too nods, "I swear on the stars and the stones that I will keep your secret."

Cinnamon sighs in relief, closing her eyes for a second... then takes a deep breath and sits up straight. She can't quite bring herself to meet Shane's eyes -- she doesn't want to see dawning horror in them, or something similar -- so she carefully studies the woodwork on the desk as she speaks as clearly as she can right now, "Elias says I, I... bred true to my greatsire, and... uh, a-and I..." She takes another deep breath, closing her eyes and blurting it out quickly -- like a band aid yanked off a wound: "I c-can... IcanmesmerizeLomanforyouifyouwantmeto!" She doesn't realize she's holding her breath as she opens her eyes again, still staring almost rigidly at the desk.

Shane has been with Cinnamon through a few of these blurts, so he knows how to listen closely. Quinn looks at Shane with a silent question, and the young man says slowly, "She... she has mesmerism."

Quinn huhs, "So she bred true to Liam in a lot of ways."

Cinnamon winces slightly, hunching her shoulders and staring at her tea... then has a hasty gulp to finish it off -- and hopefully help her flagging nerve! Then she blinks as something registers -- and her head jerks around to stare in astonishment at Quinn, "You knew?! A-about Liam, I mean?!"

Quinn smiles wryly, "One of the few that did, I think. Liam himself told me. But yes, please. We need help."

Cinnamon sighs and relaxes, almost limp with relief, "Oh, good!" then pauses and frowns a bit worriedly, "well... hopefully good." Just because Quinn knew doesn't mean he won't be squiffy with her about it later, after all! She sets down her mug and takes a deep breath, then resolutely stands up, "Okay! I, I'll do my b-best... though... um, l-like I said, this... this is only the s-second time I'll have done this, and... and it'll be the first t-time I've done it, er... like, deliberately? Y-you know?" She hesitates, then shyly adds, "If, um, I-if you felt like it later, Quinn? Like, w-when you're not busy? I... it'd be nice to m-maybe talk to you some... about Liam?"

Quinn smiles softly, "He told me, I think, because our abilities are so close. I'd love to talk to you about Liam. He was a good man."

Cinnamon tries not to wring her hands as she carefully doesn't look at Shane -- she really doesn't want to see revulsion on his face! Instead she adds, "I, uhh... a-all I have is a b-book -- like a, um, a sort of diary? -- th-that he wrote me... but it, er, it d-doesn't say anything about... ab-bout what he could do, you know? S-sooo... so I'm, um... I'm kinda trying to l-learn how to be a dragon... uh, like... like on the fly, you know?"

Quinn smiles, "We all learn who we are on the fly."

Shane's voice sounds quite sincere as he adds, "Acushla, we would be very grateful if you could help. We are quite sure, but we need to be absolutely sure."

Cinnamon jumps nervously at the sound of Shane's voice -- then blushes and laughs nervously, "Uh, s-sorry! Uhm, okay, so... c-can we get this over right away, p-please... maybe?"

Shane nods and stands, offering Cinnamon his hand. "Let's do this."

Cinnamon blinks down at the offered hand... then pushes her glasses into place as she stares in slow astonishment up at Shane, "Y-you... you're not -- n-not like... like disgusted or anything? A- uh, at what -- what I can do?"

Shane points at Quinn, "Like da said. What you can do is similar to what he can do. Why would I be disgusted?"

Cinnamon blinks again up at Shane, her lips trembling... then turns red again as she realizes: she's about to cry! She puts her hands up to her face as she bursts into tears, wailing, "I was so scared! I th-thought you m-might hate me or s-something... b-but I, I c-couldn't not offer to help s-so you guys weren't hurt... y-you know?!"

Quinn, being a father (even if he didn't find out until decades later), moves to put his arms around Cinnamon. Shane does as well, stroking her hair, "Thank you, Cinnamon. Thank you for your help."

Quinn says gently, "This is where people are all different. We'd be in a sorry state if we hated ethical people for things they didn't choose."

Cinnamon is incredibly comforted by the two men's calm and nonjudgmental reaction! She gets control over her tears fairly soon, as a result, hugging tightly back even though she's not precisely sure which of them she's hugging -- both, maybe? That'd work for her... she sighs, resting her head against someone's shoulder as she slowly relaxes again... and finally she straightens and smiles, her voice a bit choked still with relief and emotion, "I think I need a k-Kleenex first... but then I'm happy t-to help however I can?" She pauses after using the Kleenex, though, turning to Quinn and saying slowly, "I... I admit I was really scared of you at first, but... I hope I never, um... never gave the impression that I hated you?"

Quinn laughs quietly and kisses Cinnamon on the forehead, "Not a bit, lass."

Shane offers her his hand again, "Let's get this over with."

Cinnamon beams shyly up at both men! As she accepts Shane's hand she feels incredibly fortunate to have such wonderful friends. She doesn't know what she did to deserve such a blessing... but wow is she happy to have it! Though... she thinks a bit, then checks, "Um, so is it okay if I just... ask him questions? Are there any in particular you want me to ask?"

Shane smiles gently, "Let's just get this done. I have a feeling we'll know a lot." They go deeper into the trod, and after a few minutes it's obvious that the last several rooms they've passed are empty. Finally they come to a door with two guards outside. Perhaps surprisingly, one of the guards is Fraser. Shane says, "It's fine to ask. I'll listen and Quinn will witness." Cinnamon nods silently. Shane may be able to tell from how tightly she's holding his hand that she's still resolute... but also increasingly nervous. Fraser and the beansidhe Cinnamon hasn't met nod, and Fraser moves to open the door. As he does, Cinnamon notices the battle axe on his back looks to have a steel head -- but also that he's careful not to get it too near his fellow guardsidhe. She smiles a bit shakily at Fraser, then follows Shane into the room.

Inside, Loman is laying on the bed, looking at the ceiling and with his hands folded on his stomach. He hasn't been deprived, though. The room has a comfortable bed and a wash stand, and there's an untouched tray of breakfast on a table by the bed. Cinnamon almost tiptoes in, she's so tense by this point! She glances around, hoping there's a chair she can use -- it's easier to check for that than to look at the man who... good golly, he really tried to murder her! Quinn says in a deceptively friendly voice, "We've a visitor for you, Loman." Unfortunately she doesn't see a chair in the room, though perhaps that's because it could be used as a weapon.

Loman snorts and turns his head, "And who would..." He blinks slowly again... then quickly looks back at the ceiling. Cinnamon tilts her head at that reaction -- how odd! Well... does it really matter? Probably not. She takes a deep breath, gently squeezing Shane's hand (for luck! That's it...) and then releasing to go sit on the edge of the bed at about Loman's hip. They can both easily look at each other that way, even if he refuses to sit up. Her voice is soft, "Hi. I... I wanted to ask you, umm... why you wanted to kill me?"

Shane squeezes Cinnamon's hand back and says, "Shall we get you a chair?" He knows her fairly well, it would seem. Quinn is once again leaning against the wall near the door, but it's quite obvious this time that he's not feeling friendly.

Cinnamon smiles hopefully up at Shane, "Yes, please?"

Loman doesn't look at Cinnamon; doesn't speak -- in fact, he closes his eyes. However, the relaxed body posture he's trying to affect isn't really working. Shane leaves, and Quinn moves to stand behind Cinnamon, looking over her at Loman, "Because he's a bloody coward and a traitor."

Cinnamon sighs thoughtfully as she watches the man, then says slowly, "But... what would he have gained by that, you know? I mean... I d-don't mean to be rude, but I can understand the reasoning, even if I can't condone it, for his murdering Branigan. But me? What good does that do for Killian?"

Quinn says quietly, "You had too much information. I think he was afraid you knew something." He puts a gentle hand on Cinnamon's shoulder, "Ask him." He leans down and murmurs quietly by Cinnamon's ear, "Really concentrate on wanting him to talk."

Shane arrives then with the chair. Cinnamon smiles nervously as she thanks Shane, settling herself into the chair so she's facing Loman and -- should he open his eyes -- he'll be able to see her easily. She's not sure she can do this without being able to catch his eyes, but she's going to try her best, darnit! She takes a deep breath to try and focus: she is going to get this... this real doodyhead to talk -- okay! She stares at Loman's face, pushing up her glasses and frowning with concentration... then says firmly, "Loman, it's rude to ignore people when they're talking to you!" A moment to really concentrate... and then she says almost softly, but with all the intensity she can bring to her voice, "Sit up and look at me!"

Apparently the eye contact isn't necessary, though it may help. Loman sits up and turns his head towards her, looking dazed and maybe a little surprised. Quinn takes half a step back behind Cinnamon and crosses his arms, while Shane stands beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. The young dragon gasps softly, her eyes wide as she works to keep Loman's gaze -- even as she gives a happy internal squeal: it worked! She takes a quick breath, thinking fast... then says carefully, "Loman, tell us -- completely and honestly -- the whole story behind the death of Branigan. We want to know why you did it and how, and who your contact was, and exactly what happened, okay?" She feels... confident -- oddly 'solid,' even, as she speaks: Shane is backing her! She knows she can do this now... and she will -- for Shane! Quinn too, of course.

Loman blinks slowly and his voice sounds almost slurry and strained, as if he's fighting against actually speaking. The story is fairly sordid: he was working with Darragh, because Darragh promised the guardianship of Rowan once Holly had absorbed it. They were sure Quinn wouldn't be able to make it home in time to keep the pact in place, and once Killian was leader of both trods he planned to take Aisling's place on the council. He'd later allied with Qadan and the others because they had similar ideas of their place in the world.

Cinnamon listens carefully, mentally crossing her fingers that the poisonous nettle is part of this sad little story -- that'll really cement things as far as Killian's guilt! As it turns out, the story of Branigan's death is that Loman pretended to come upon the Chieftain unexpectedly, and joined him in his walk. When Branigan turned his head to check his footing on the rocky side of the gully, Loman used heavy gloves and a rag to push essence of the nettles into Branigan's mouth. After that it was easy to shove the guardian down the gully, and to crack his head on a rock. However, once again Loman underestimated the strength of his victim. Cinnamon raises a fascinated eyebrow -- looks like Loman too was fooled by the ruse Aisling and Saoirse pulled to hide the actual day of Branigan's death! She waits a bit, though, to make sure Loman is finished before she asks another question.

The beansidhe runs out of words and just stares into space. If he weren't mesmerized, he might be worried at the look on Quinn's face. Cinnamon's voice is quietly fascinated, "And why did you try to kill me? Tell me that too, please."

Loman says in somewhat monotone tones, "You were too close... too much information. The others... they seem like they don't have the whole story."

Cinnamon tilts her head curiously, "Too close to what? Tell us about it, please -- all of it, and honestly."

Loman doesn't seem to have very good words for this. It seems a lot of his fears were very vague. Shane peers at him, finally saying, "What he's saying is true, but..." he shakes his head, "it's like he really doesn't know. Like he's..."

Quinn growls, "Like he's been told what to think." The two beansidhe look at one another and says as one, "Darragh."

Cinnamon considers that for a bit... then rephrases the question slightly, "What did Darragh tell you, Loman?" She whispers in a soft aside to Shane, "What's Darragh's knack -- do you know?"

Quinn is the one who answers, "He can nudge people. If he gets a really good connection, the nudge is very strong." He pauses, then explains, "Nudging means you can suggest things and people will believe them more easily. It's been used in the past by less-ethical beansidhe to start wars."

Cinnamon nods slowly, her focus still predominantly on Loman as she thinks... then she whispers, "What's Killian's?" He's the greedy trouble-maker who started all this nonsense, after all!

Shane says, "It's the same but..."

Quinn sighs, "It used to be stronger. He used to be better at it."

Loman says rather plaintively, "Why didn't you just die? Humans are so fragile..."

Cinnamon has to bite her lip not to chuckle at that! Her voice is wry, "Maybe because I'm not human?" She smiles faintly, considering... then decides to try and get anything else that's important, so they can stop this. "Loman... what's the whole story? What's left that you haven't told us, that you'd really like us not to know?" She figures if the beansidhe is worried that 'the others' not get 'the whole story,' then now's the time to ask for it, after all!

Loman just shakes his head slowly, "I've... there's..." He seems confused.

Quinn sighs, "Nudged but with nothing else to say."

Cinnamon nods at that, whispering to her friends, "Okay. Any other questions you have for him before I stop?"

Quinn and Shane both shake their heads, and Shane squeezes her shoulder gently. Quinn says softly, "Close your eyes. Take a few breaths. Concentrate on letting him go."

Cinnamon blinks at Quinn's directions -- thank goodness! She'd been unsure of how to release someone -- this helps tremendously. She closes her eyes and follows the trod guardian's suggestions: deep, slow breaths and... they're... all going to wake up as if no time has passed at all... now. She opens her eyes, studying Loman with interest. The beansidhe is blinking blearily and looking around. The last he remembers, he was laying on the bed and staring at the ceiling -- and now he's surrounded by two angry-looking beansidhe and the little human! "How... how did you...?"

Shane smirks, "Because you underestimated her and weren't listening. A knock on the head isn't likely to do much damage to a dragon."

Cinnamon looks up at Quinn and smiles shyly, "Thank you for the help. I... wasn't exactly sure what to do there."

Quinn smiles, "You're welcome, lass." Then he looks at Loman with a glower, "I'll decide what to do with you later, Loman."

Cinnamon glances at Loman, her gaze almost pitying. She knows Darragh likely had to find some seed or basis of greed for his nudge to work... but she can't help wondering if it was originally simply a small pang of momentary jealousy that was easily quashed. She knows she sometimes has... uncharitable thoughts too, after all. She sighs, rising to her feet and turning towards the door, "Well, if he won't willingly tell me anything... I think I'm going to head out, okay?" Shane puts an arm around Cinnamon's shoulder and Quinn picks up the chair, following his son and the dragon.

Quinn sighs once they're in the hall, "I don't think he knows much more. He's a pawn, but he's a willing pawn."

Shane's voice is cold, "Da, it's probably only sheerest luck you're still alive, what with him in the trod."

Cinnamon shivers at that! Her voice is low, "If... if someone is nudged, do they have to have some... thing... like a -- a mental seed that the nudger has to start with? And... over time, if there are repeated nudges, does it get worse? I mean, it's not like, um... like the nudger can put treason into someone's mind, right? It has to be there to begin with...?"

Quinn nods and steps into the room next door to replace the chair -- it's almost as if he recognized which room the furniture is from. When he returns, he replies, "Yes, there has to be a seed. A woman that's got pangs of jealousy and insecurity can be nudged to believe her lover is cheating. A king with overweening pride can be nudged into starting hostilities if he believes he's being disrespected. Loman apparently wanted more recognition than he was getting."

Shane snorts, "Loman didn't want respect. He wanted power." The younger man shakes his head, "His grandmother came from Holly. She was a cousin to Killian's grandfather."

Quinn nods and sighs, "I know. But I didn't think he bought into that nobility bullshite."

Cinnamon sighs softly, turning to abruptly hug Shane, "Poor people! Poor... damaged things..." She turns her face into Shane's shoulder so she doesn't have to look at anyone else for a moment. It's all a bit... overwhelming to realize these hatreds span... centuries!

Shane hugs her back tightly, stroking her back, "There are damaged humans too, acushla. It's just that most of them don't have knacks."

Cinnamon sighs again after a moment, straightening up and giving Shane a small, slightly shaky smile that's as brave as she can make it, "Well... w-well, I guess that's my job now, in that case, right? To... to try to get folks to stop hating on each other so much, and to... to keep both them and the humans safe." She takes a deep breath, then adds more firmly, "I may be new, but... but I'm trying my best, darnit!"

Quinn smiles, "And you're doing wonderfully, lass." He pats her and then Shane on the shoulder, "Go see her to her room to rest, lad. I'll have Eirich send up some of his chamomile tea and some biscuits." Shane nods and guides Cinnamon back to her room, sitting with her as long as she wants. As it turns out, mostly all Cinnamon wants to do is hear any stories Shane has about Liam, and she listens with great pleasure to all his anecdotes as they share the tea and biscuits.

After some confabulation it's decided that Spice and Aisling will stay at Rowan while the rest go. Spice is, after all, the squishiest of them all... and no one wants to see the most fragile of the Councilors present come to some harm. Cinnamon thinks for a bit... then sighs in amusement at herself as she decides to pack a spare shirt and jeans in her backpack. Life is... slightly weird, she decides, when one has to plan ahead for getting damaged so often that one's clothing needs frequent replacement!

Since Quinn himself can't go, he sends one of the trods warriors with them as a compromise. Maebh wears her hair cropped to about one inch over her entire head and dresses quite simply: black leggings, a long blue tunic, and a pair of modern hiking boots with brass eyelets. She also wears a quiver and bow across her back and a short, double-edged sword on her hip, with a dagger on the other. It is, in fact, almost Quinn's exact armament. The one adornment she seems to allow herself is the row of delicate silver rings lining the whole of her curved and pointed right ear from lobe to tip.

When Maebh is introduced to them, she makes a point of shaking their hands and repeating their names in her greeting, such as, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Veles," or "I've heard good things, Thorn." Her expression is solemn despite Quinn describing her to them as, "a lass that enjoys life."

Cinnamon shyly greets Maebh, having trouble meeting the tall, scary woman's eyes -- she's never seen anyone with so many weapons on them! Of course, she also has no idea how many weapons are secretly hidden upon the persons of the group she's with... and would likely be shocked if she knew! Maebh's greeting to Cinnamon is warm, "I'm told we have a lot to thank you for, Cinnamon."

Cinnamon blinks startledly up at the tall woman, stuttering, "Th-tha- uhh... y-you're welcome?" Maebh smiles and it changes her from possible forbidding to warm. Cinnamon rolls her eyes at herself, a few minutes later, as they're all packing up to start hiking along, [Smoooth, girl... oh my gosh, not at all!] She sighs, hoping that as the years go by she'll learn how to not seem quite so much like a ditz all the time. Well... live and learn!

Since the hike is going to be long, they're waiting until early morning to start. Several folks are given knapsacks to carry with provisions because it's quite a crowd going along. Maebh assures everyone that they'll not go for more than two hours at a stretch... and the hike itself will get them there mid-afternoon at earliest. Cinnamon sighs in relief at that! -though she tries to be discreet about it. Maebh says, "Meaning that we'll hike part of the way back and set up camp for the night."

Cinnamon blinks at that... then carefully keeps her face expressionless. She'd hated camping with her family -- it had been painful and humiliating -- but she firmly reminds herself that they're not here and things are surely different now, darnit! Thorn is not terribly put off by the idea of camping, though it's been a while. Still, he'll trust Maebh to organize them properly when it comes time to bed down.

Cinnamon does her best to keep up with everyone else as they walk... and is slightly, breathlessly gratified that she doesn't feel the need to flop out on the ground at the first two-hour break. That's fantastic, she hopefully decides... even if the cool fall weather is part of the reason she's not badly overheated! The Havvargar quietly work it so they're carrying a lot of the supplies, leaving smaller amounts to be distributed amongst the rest of the party. The food that's been packed for the little trek consists largely of dried fruit, water, and nuts. Cinnamon breathlessly thanks the Havvargar who smiles and offers to carry her backpack! She's tremendously glad they're there.

Starting at 6:00 a.m. and breaking every two hours means that it's almost 3:00 p.m. before they reach the edge of Holly's territory. It's more thickly-wooded than the edges of Rowan's territory, but they've been aimed consistently away from civilization all morning. Cinnamon whews and tiredly sits on something when the call goes back that they've reached Holly territory. Hiking two hours is hard but doable for her -- but this was, what... three or four 2-hour hikes in one day?! She's tired enough that she's lost count. She just sits, panting and feeling like she should be steaming from effort!

Maebh, Jaeger, Veles, and the Havvargar are all quietly getting their weapons ready. Jaeger doesn't visibly have any weapons, while Josie is in her wolf form. "A patrol will see us soon," Maebh explains, "and then they'll either come greet us, or head into the central trod after Killian."

Cinnamon glances over at Maebh, her voice worried, "Are we, umm... going to give them a, uhh, an opportunity to... to, like, just listen to us first, maybe? Please?"

Maebh nods, "Of course we are. But it's better to be prepared than to be caught flat-footed."

Arvid offers long daggers to both Cinnamon and Thorn, in case they want some small thing to have on their person. Cinnamon blinks startledly at the dagger, "Whoa! Uhh... wh-what would I do with it, though? I, I d-don't really know how to use one?" She grins wryly up at Arvid from her seat, adding, "Most likely, if there was a real fight? Someone would take it away from me and try to use it on me, you know?"

Arvid smiles, obviously trying to lighten some of the tension as he says, "It's easy. The pointy end goes in the other person." It's clear he's just teasing. Cinnamon blinks in surprise at Arvid -- then giggles nervously.

Thorn knows it's a long hike, even with a break for lunch, but he's been through (slightly) worse. The dagger makes him consider for a long moment, but then he shakes his head, thanking Arvid but stating he too wouldn't know how to use it. Arvid nods to them both, "Then you should stay to the rear just a little, Thorn. Besides, you're the healer. If things turn nasty you'll need to be out of the line of fire."

Shane has wandered over as well, smiling, "If there's a fight, she has weapons better than most of us, Arvid; she just prefers not to use them." Cinnamon grins shyly at Shane, but doesn't answer -- she really doesn't want to have to flame anyone again, after all, if she can figure out a way not to! She perks up a bit at a thought, then smiles up at Arvid, "You guys are welcome to duck behind me too, if you need to?" She's honestly trying to be helpful -- she has no idea anyone might take it as a slight on their manhood, after all!

It takes almost an hour before they're approached -- when a group of five people seem almost to fade out of the trees. Unlike the members of Rowan, the members of Holly vary much more in appearance. Two of the five have the very dark beansidhe hair, but two of the others are redheads -- while the last one seems to be blonde. Their eyes are also different: shades of blue for the redheads, almost black for the brunettes, and the blonde is the only one with the amber-brown eyes Cinnamon and Thorn have seen on most beansidhe. Cinnamon whispers softly, "Oh, look, look! There they are!" She's relieved it took them so long to find the group -- now she can stand up and talk rather than puff and blow and look all flushed and sweaty!

Maebh steps forward with Shane and says, "Greetings, Killian of the Trod of the Holly. We greet you and come on a diplomatic mission. Since our Chieftain cannot leave our borders, he has given me his proxy to act on behalf of the Trod of the Rowan." She's addressing one of the redheads. Cinnamon pads quietly up a bit so she can watch and hear too... though she's careful to stay behind the speakers so as to not appear pushy or rude. Her eyes are wide with interest -- and, truthfully, a bit of excitement too. Maybe they'll all be able to come to some peaceful resolution! Wouldn't that be awesome?!

Killian is built rather broad through the shoulders for a sidhe, and he has a scar that runs along the side of his face -- from the corner of his left eye to most of the way down his cheek. Rather than detracting from the beauty of his face, it points it up. His smile is wry and he snorts, "And what sort of diplomacy does Rowan offer? Has Quinn finally come to his senses and decided to let Rowan become part of Holly?"

Thorn unwittingly shares Cinnamon's optimism -- but at Killian's reply the healer feels a chill run down his spine. This is a man who holds a grudge very, very closely... nurturing it like a fragile perennial! Cinnamon's brown eyes widen even more! So that's Killian? She studies the man in silent fascination, wondering how someone can hold so much hatred inside... but not really show it on their face.

Once it's clear which is Killian, it's easy to guess that the other redhead is probably Darragh. He looks much like his father except that his face is unmarred, and the lines are even sharper and finer. Darragh and the other three are situated in a wedge behind Killian, with Darragh on the Chieftain's right and slightly behind, the blonde in the same position on the left flank, and the other two holding positions respectively to the left and right and slightly further behind.

Cinnamon frowns consideringly... then pointedly clears her throat and holds up a finger -- in the hopes of preventing a snarly argument immediately starting up, "Ah, if I may? The diplomacy doesn't come from the Trod of the Rowan. It comes from the Council -- they sent me as their spokesperson -- and it is for the Trod of the Holly and, in particular, its guardian Killian." She smiles in a friendly fashion as she adds, "The Rowans were kind enough to guide us to your lands, since the Council has no one present -- currently -- who knows the way here. May we ask you to guide us to someplace where the other trod members may hear this with you, please?" She's perfectly fine with phrasing things so that they're true... but also so that it sounds (to those who wish to hear it that way) as if the Council is interested in publicly offering Killian a position.

Killian listens with a slight smirk, looking from one person in the group to another; picking out who is armed and who is not, "And if it's from the council, why is Aisling not the one bringing the news?"

Cinnamon tilts her head at Killian, "Seriously? You'd want us sending news through someone from a trod we've been told you hate? Wouldn't that be kind of... insulting?" Then she waves a hand, "Wait, irrelevant. We have a proposition for you and your trod." She sighs, adding, "Plus it was a very long walk here. Can we get moving, please, so I can deliver the proposition properly?"

Killian chuckles and says, "It would be sending the member of the council that's meant to represent us."

Darragh speaks next, "And who exactly are you? Besides a council member? And whose word do we really have for that?"

It's Jaeger that steps up next to Cinnamon on her right and Josie on her left. Josie speaks firmly, "I vouch for her. I am Josie Moonsdaughter of the Global Council."

Jaeger adds, "And I am Jaeger Elmtrod, former council member. I know you know me, Killian."

Thorn is listening quietly and attentively; he is definitely not liking Killian. The man has a skewed sense of priorities, and Thorn is very glad the sea-wolves are with them. He's starting to think they're not going to get out of this without some sort of violence from Killian. Cinnamon folds her arms and simply watches Killian with the slightly wry, slightly patient look she'd learned from giving presentations where there's a doubter in the crowd. Usually just waiting for them to run down works... usually. Plus, she firmly reminds herself, she still has the facts on her side!

Killian snorts and replies, "And why should I take you into my trod? I count from here two warriors from Rowan, one from Trod of the Elm, one from North America, and several that I don't recognize but that smell like werewolves to Layne." He goes on, "And I myself can smell iron on some of you."

Cinnamon says patiently, "I didn't ask to go into your trod -- I don't want to do so! But your trodmates should hear the presentation we have for you as well, if we're going to do this properly. So someplace where folks can all gather would be fine." She adds politely, "I suspect your elders will want to hear this too."

Jaeger sighs, "Killian, don't make this into a fight already. I know there's a clearing inside the bounds of your lands that you can gather at least a large number of your people into, be on your own domain, and not have to let strangers into the heart of your trod."

Maebh adds, "And I know it's toward the edges of your land. When things were amicable between our trods we often had festivals there. We'll meet you there and you can bring as many of your people as will fit."

Killian considers this, then finally says, "Of course. Give us two hours."

Cinnamon nods in relief, "Excellent! Thank you." She's going to have a seat and rest a bit more... and work on her presentation a bit more, in that case! Then she glances at Maebh to check, after the Hollies head off, "How far away is the clearing, please?"

Maebh looks down at the little dragon, "It's about two miles from here, back toward Rowan's territory. We'll make it there in time to have a breather and have the warriors and hunters do a patrol."

Cinnamon sighs in relief, "Oh, good!" She pauses, considering... then quietly adds, "If I interrupted you, Maebh, before with Killian? I'm really sorry. I'm happy to try not doing it again, too, if that was the case?"

Maebh shakes her head, "Not at all. I spoke because he knows me." Everyone is picking their knapsacks and other things up and starting to sort themselves into marching order.

Cinnamon sighs in relief and smiles shyly up at the taller woman, "Ok. Thanks so much for not being mad at me!"

Maebh looks a bit puzzled, "Why would I be? I'm essentially a wilderness guide on this." She flashes a smile and motions for everyone to set up.

This time, it's more obvious that Thorn and Cinnamon are being put in the middle of the marching order -- with Maebh, Josie, and Jaeger in front of them, and the rest behind. Shane is the very last person in the marching order. Cinnamon grins wryly at Thorn, "When all this hiking about is done, I think I'm gonna fall over and sleep for a week!" She glances around curiously, adding more quietly, "Do you know who's carrying the iron? Did the Havvarger pick up their regular swords or something?"

Thorn notices the new marching order and is... a little worried. Would Killian -- well, it doesn't matter if he would maintain the strictures of hospitality -- he didn't. Apparently others have the same idea as well if they're tucking Cinnamon and him in the middle of the cordon. Thorn also noticed some of the Havvarger, much earlier, picked up a few of their steel and iron weapons from where they were securely stashed at Rowan. Interestingly, all the visible weapons they're carrying are bronze, though. Maebh's weapons are all bronze, flint, or -- remarkably -- glass. Even Shane is carrying a bronze sword, though he has another weapon sheathed down his back. Thorn nods to Cinnamon and lets her know who he spotted with iron. "But mostly it's bronze that's at the ready," he murmurs to her. "Though I've never seen glass weapons before."

Cinnamon looks intrigued, pushing up her glasses, "Glass! Fascinating. I wonder how they... oh! I wonder if it's some form of, say, obsidian? I remember reading that flaked obsidian is actually sharper than steel... though also more fragile." Thorn also makes sure to quietly mention that Shane has some sort of weapon sheathed down his back as well, though the healier isn't sure what it is. Cinnamon blinks again... then nods interestedly, "Oh, I remember that! He did that down-the-back thingie with his sword when we were out in the mundane world, one time."

Thorn blinks, "His sword? The big longsword he has? Down his back?"

Cinnamon grins up at Thorn, "I don't know, actually... though you could ask him?"

Maebh was right about how long it would take to get to the clearing. With a little conversation, Shane, Josie, and two of the Havvarger split off to do a quick reconnoiter of the edges of the clearing. Maebh and Jaeger suggested it, so the idea of an ambush is low... but better safe than sorry. Cinnamon sighs and settles onto a log to rest for a bit... again! She mutters in tired amusement to herself, "Gonna be so glad once all this bloody hiking is over!"

Arvid settles next to Cinnamon and Thorn and smiles, "I think we're going to hike back about three hours and camp for the night. My wolves and Josie and I were talking about hunting."

Cinnamon winces mentally at that! She sighs, carefully not thinking about yet more exhausting and debilitating hiking for a bit. Instead she raises her head and glances around, "Um... Maebh, Arvid, Jaeger? Would it be smart maybe... for me to step forward first, to talk? 'Cause... they're unlikely to be able to hurt me, you know?"

Jaeger chuckles, "I don't think you could protect us all... but having you and Josie, and perhaps Rafe, up front as not-easily harmed might be good."

Cinnamon smiles a bit worriedly, "Well, it's not so much that I think I can protect you all, so much as... if they start shooting immediately, it won't bother me, and everyone else will have a chance to get to cover that much sooner?"

Arvid says calmly, "We know that. But if they start shooting immediately, they're not all going to be aiming at you. Put at least a couple of warriors with you."

Cinnamon doesn't understand how far a bow can shoot, and isn't a tactician, so she just smiles and doesn't say anything more about it. Instead she says to Jaeger, "Would you recognize the elder of the Trod of the Holly, Jaeger? Do you know their name?"

Jaeger nods thoughtfully, his gaze drifting as he looks back into his memories, "They have three elders, child -- a council of their own -- Siobhan, Niall, and Caoimhe. They're fairly much the opposite of Saoirse and Quinn, in that Quinn goes to Saoirse for all the important questions and almost always abides by her decision. Killian, however, sees the elders as advisors in a lesser role than himself."

Cinnamon nods thoughtfully as she pushes her glasses back into place and mentally revises her presentation slightly, "OK, thank you. Uhm... how should I recognize them, please?"

Jaeger smiles, "I'll point them out -- I've met all of them at one time or another. I used to travel this area centuries back."

Cinnamon brightens, "Oh, excellent! That would be very helpful -- thank you!" She glances around, one knee bouncing a bit nervously as she adds quietly, "Hope they all get here soon..."

Almost exactly at the two hour mark a large number of people arrive. Maebh and Shane have come back, but Josie and the Havvarger that went with her are not back yet. The clearing is plenty big enough for all of the people that arrive, however. There are at least several dozen. Cinnamon stands up on the log, peering a bit anxiously at the new arrivals as she stage-whispers, "Jaeger! Are they here? The, um, Holly elders -- do you see them?"

Jaeger raises his head and stands next to Cinnamon to look over the people who have arrived. Killian is there, along with Darragh and the others that were with him at the first meeting. Jaeger also points out three people wearing the sort of robes you might expect to see judges wearing. All three are also more like the beansidhe Thorn and Cinnamon have seen: dark hair and amber eyes. Cinnamon mutters, "Awesome. Ok. Show time," without taking her eyes off the threesome. Instead she straightens up, smoothes her hair and clothing once more, takes a deep breath... then starts marching with determination out to the middle of the clearing so everyone can see her.

The young dragon steps forward into the clearing and nods politely to the three folks Jaeger pointed out as the elders of the Trod of the Holly, then straightens and takes a deep breath. She can do this! It's just another presentation. The elders all nod back, though there's a brief scowl from Killian at them being acknowledged before he. By the time Cinnamon starts talking, however, his face has smoothed out. She raises her voice slightly so it will carry across the clearing, and begins: "Good afternoon, Trod of the Holly! My name is Cinnamon O'Donnell of House Elgan, Councilor for those who are unrepresented. With me are Josephine Moonsdaughter, Councilor for the eastern First Nations; Jaeger, co-Elder of the Trod of the Elm and former Councilor for the non-Norse of Europe; and from the Trod of the Rowan we have Maebh, representing Chieftain Quinn; and Shane." She doesn't mention his parentage since she's not sure if that's public knowledge here yet. Instead she continues, "Also here as part of this mission are Corrig Oakstrod, representing Caradog, king of the Coblyn Street catchment area, and Thorn Elmstrod, healer."

The members of the Trod of the Holly are all listening as Cinnamon speaks. Their sidhe members are visibly less homogenous than those of either Elm or Rowan. The only thing that's similar amongst most of them are the pointed ears... and also that most of them are armed. Despite Killian's talk of not wanting warriors in his trod, it's obvious the little party would have been outnumbered there... and still is now, actually. There are easily twice as many armed Hollies as there are in the little group from Rowan and Coblyn. This, in fact, might be the reason some of the Havvarger and Shane brought steel and iron weapons.

Cinnamon doesn't introduce those remaining warriors who have come along with her group -- Veles and the Havvarger -- not knowing if they want to be publicly recognized as such. Instead she takes another breath, then continues pragmatically, since threats and bluffing really aren't her style -- she's a big believer in simply following the rules: "We are all here to demand the weregild which is our rightful due from the Trod of the Holly... due to the malicious machinations of Killian and his offspring, along with three other unrelated individuals. Between them all, and over the past 25 years, they are responsible for eight assassinations, three crippling attempted-assassinations, three debilitating psychic attacks, and injuries to countless innocent others... in locations including the Trods of the Rowan and Elm, and Coblyn Street." She pauses there -- both for another deep breath, and for the likely uproar she expects.

Thorn keeps his attention not on the elders, but on Killian and the warriors around him. Arvid finds Thorn and murmurs, "We need you to stay a little back. The two people you always protect are your healer and your mage -- if you have one." The werewolf does make sure Thorn can easily see what's going on, though, so it's clear he means 'protect' but not 'encumber.' Thorn nods soberly to Arvid, edging back a little bit. This is the critical moment: either people will be outraged by what Killian has done... or Killian will rile them up about these 'baseless allegations.'

Indeed, there's some murmuring at Cinnamon's accusations. Killian finally speaks, his voice disdainful, "Assassinations? Injuries? What are you prattling about, girl?"

Shane steps up on one side of Cinnamon and Jaeger on the other. The Teutonic elf says coldly, "She is a member of the global council, Killian, and Liam's granddaughter. You will speak with respect." The mention of Liam's name sends a ripple of reaction and whispers through Holly.

Cinnamon smiles in rueful thanks to Jaeger, then continues in explanation: "The eight assassinations are: Branigan, former guardian of Trod of the Rowan; Liam Connelly, my relative and the councilor who preceded me; five members of the Trod of the Elm who died in your vicious attempt to obliterate the entire trod; and one sidhe who lived on Coblyn Street, who died when your allies and hired mercenaries attacked the entire Council and everyone in the audience there -- including King Caradog himself! Further, were it not for the superlative work of the Coblyn Street healers, there would easily have been many more dead then." She sighs unhappily, then continues, "At that time there were also many severely injured, and two crippling attempted assassinations: Killa, Councilor for South and parts of Central America; and Aoi, Councilor for most of Asia. The third crippling assassination attempt was earlier -- on Jaeger, at that time Councilor before his son. The three damaging psychic attacks were against the former Councilor for the Norse, father of the current Councilor Hilde; Josie's father, who preceded her as Councilor; and Lark, Councilor for the western First Nations and Mexico, and Sparrow's predecessor."

Cinnamon pulls the copy of her report on the research out of her backpack, adding, "We tracked down who the cabal of assassins were via bank accounts and such. All the information is here in this report, though..." she looks up apologetically, "I am sorry, elders Siobhan, Niall, and Caoimhe... but I only brought one copy." She pauses, then curiously adds, "Are you in the habit of knowingly funding assassins, by the way? The bank account for Niamh, Killian's daughter in Boston, was quite... generous! Also, she'd had it for, um... maybe 20 years or so?" She silently hopes Shane is watching closely for the answer to that query!

Siobhan nods gravely, "That is acceptable, as I'm the only one who can read English. Niall and Caoimhe have not been out of our trod in centuries."

She starts to step forward to take the paperwork -- and Killian actually swings his sword out to stop her stepping forward, snapping, "What does paperwork matter to us? It's but scribbles on a page -- and can be created from whole cloth. What you say is untrue and insulting!" Darragh is scowling from behind his father's right shoulder. Shane is indeed looking intently at Killian and snorts when there's no actual answer.

Cinnamon raises an eyebrow at Killian, "Are you that afraid of the truth, Killian... that you'd threaten one of your elders?" She steps forward, holding out the report, "I have said only the truth, and there is nothing but truth in this report, to the absolute best of my knowledge." She adds to Siobhan, "Oh, also: if you have any questions about the report, I'm happy to answer them as best I can... at least while we're able to easily communicate?" She wonders interestedly if any of the sidhe will try speaking Irish to avoid her understanding them... though... hmm, probably not with Shane standing right there! She smiles, feeling warmed by his presence near her... and Jaeger too, of course! Behind them all, Thorn grips his seat. It's about to get very dangerous here. He hopes he won't be needed, but....

Killian doesn't turn his sword on Cinnamon, but he does move to step between her and Siobhan. Strangely, this gets another mutter through his people, and some shifting... especially since even the members of the trod recognize an evasion. They're sidhe, after all; it's an old tool in their collective toolbox. Killian's voice is low and dangerous, "You bring accusations and the only proof you have is paper."

Shane says almost laconically, "Paper, confessions, and witnesses, Killian. Surely you don't think anyone being questioned by me and my father together could skirt the truth for long?" He's purposely leaving out Cinnamon's mesmerism abilities.

Cinnamon shakes her head at the upset beansidhe, "Why do you think I named all the representatives and Councilors here, Killian? It's because they all either witnessed your machinations, or are representing someone else who witnessed -- or, in some cases, suffered personally -- due to your malice." Her voice is almost sad as she adds, "Is revenge that important to you, Killian... that you'd assassinate so many innocent bystanders just to get your way?"

Killian snaps, "No one is innocent except a child." His continued dissimulation is starting to make members of his own trod frown.

Darragh speaks up, "And you claim my sister had part in this. Why is she not here?"

Cinnamon ignores Darragh as she replies to Killian, counting off on her fingers, "Plus we found the traitor within Rowan who was suborned by your son Darragh -- Loman -- and he confessed; plus your daughter confessed and is currently being held by King Caradog; plus one of the mercenary platoon survived, and he too confessed..." She looks up a bit bemusedly at the elders as she adds, "How much proof do you all need?!" A moment later she adds, "Also... who keeps your trod's accounts? Are you aware of how much money you've lost?"

Niall speaks this time, "I keep the trod's accounts. Killian has his own fortune that I do not touch."

Cinnamon sighs gustily, "Oh, good! Okay, then the confiscated monies were just his." She beams sunnily at Niall, "Thank you for that clarification!"

Killian shoots Niall a venomous stare, then turns back to Cinnamon to growl, low and menacing, "You confiscated my daughter's money?"

Cinnamon nods calmly, "Absolutely! Also the accounts of her co-assassins. There are, after all, a great many dead and injured because of your backstabbing actions." She tilts her head at the elders, adding, "So... back to the subject at hand: weregild! Do you back Killian's actions?"

Niall looks at the blade resting against Siobhan's chest. It's not pointed at her, but is most definitely silver. He then looks directly at Shane and says in calm, even, uninflected tones, "He is our Chieftain. We back him without fail."

Cinnamon glances at Shane, fully expecting to see that was a lie. Shane gives a very minute head shake, letting her know what Niall just said is indeed untrue. Catching on, Caoimhe adds smoothly, "And so do all our people. Even if these accusations are all true." Another minute head shake from Shane. Indeed, there seems to be some shifting of the members of Holly: some are moving back from Killian; others are moving forward. Back in the back, Thorn is impressed -- Killian has said absolutely nothing Shane could use to pick up (or not) truth. That's a level of oratory chicanery which Thorn didn't think was possible! He wonders if he should say something... but what could he say? If the Trod is just going to go along with this, then what can he do to convince them otherwise -- to convince them of the report's truth and Killian's bastardry?

Cinnamon frowns thoughtfully... she needs to get poor Siobhan away from that sword first. Okay... she smiles as she steps forward a bit more, "That's fine! We don't mind getting weregild from the entire trod instead of only Killian and his get taking the brunt of it. Let's see... so that's two assassinated Councilors and attempted assassination of all of them, plus a catchement's ruler... plus Rowan's guardian, and five innocents from Elm." As she's stepping forward she adds thoughtfully, "Oh, I forgot to ask: who is your herbalist? They're the one that saved the poisonous nettle that Killian used on Branigan and my great grandfather Liam and... well, actually he tried to use it on everyone he tried to kill."

Thorn knows he shouldn't worry about Cinnamon being within stabbing range of Killian. She is, in fact, the last person he needs to worry about in this entire situation! Cinnamon continues, "In fact, were it not for the swift and amazing abilities of the healers of Coblyn, that stupid nettle would have killed several more in the audience!" She shakes her head almost sorrowfully, "The mercenaries hired to slaughter both the entirety of the trod of the Elm and the Global Councilors -- they were carrying a truly horrific load... explosives, bullets of iron, silver, and more... all with the nettle smeared on them!"

There's a mutter through the trod of the Holly and some faces turn toward one of the trod members -- another redhead with blue eyes. He's also thin, almost to the point of emaciation. Niall's eyes widen as it finally sinks in, "A nettle? A poisonous nettle?"

Cinnamon stares directly at Killian as she says softly, "Yes, Niall... the one that was supposed to be extinct. Would you care to tell them about it, Killian? Or are you afraid to say anything direct... or honest?"

Killian sneers, "I will not be accused of such things in my own trod! Leave. All of you."

Cinnamon's voice is calm, "Yes, you will... because they're all true. And no, we will not leave... not without our rightful weregild." She's doing her utmost to grab all Killian's attention... and praying internally that Siobhan will have the smarts to silently back away from the sword. Unfortunately Siobhan seems frozen... but finally one of the trod -- a more 'typical' looking beansidhe -- moves up behind her and puts a hand on her shoulder as he murmurs in her ear. That seems to break the elder out of her frozen state, and she carefully takes two steps back.

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

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