The boy stared at her, keeping his eyes locked on her for a second, cowering behind his knees. He would have expected...something...by now, something intended to drive him from the house, a beating perhaps maybe even her trying to gut him but...she wasn't. and he was painfully hungry. he nodded slowly.
As the boy nodded, an emotion that had manifested itself within her grew stronger. She did not quite understand it, but for the moment it did not matter - He had communicated with her! She felt a strange sensation of pride and it made her smile. She nodded back and turned to the soup-like substance made from smoked meat, bulrush roots, dried nettles and a little bit of the rare, spicy horseradish which she had added in the hopes it would clear the boy's nose and throat. She normally used it when ill and hoped it could improve the boy's condition too.
She handed him a bowl and expectantly waited for him to take it. She felt, although she suppressed it, that if he accepted food from her hand she would be out of any immediate danger.
The boy took the bowl of her cautiously, and after staring at it for a second, drank a little from the edge. then more and more, unable to stop himself, he felt so hungry. It scalded his throat but he didn't care: it was food, it was edible and he needed it desperately. the horseradish added to the burning sensation as it went down, but with each gulp it felt better and better. when we as finished he lent against the wall of the hut and gasped for breath, having not taken one since he started to drink. He then looked at it and back at hika, then quietly faintly he spoke "c-c-can i have s-some m-more?"
he didn't know if he could trust her but, for the first time in long months somebody had shown him a small piece of kindness. for the first time in months he felt a little bit safer, less hungry and less raw terror at the world. In short it felt, in however tiny a sense, in however deeply buried a fashion, like home.
"Ah, here we were," Gerald said as they approached the in, "My humble abode; quite a charming place if you don't mind the traffic. I do hope we have enough time for a cup of tea; do forgive me, but all this adventuring has made me rather parched."
The dining hall was as lively as when he had left it. The high spirits and almost deafening buzz of the surrounding conversations cast a warm veil of comfort for Gerald. He recognized the warmth of it and had spent many a restless nights partaking in similar festivities in his younger endeavours. He sighed, silently, and took a moment to enjoy himself, letting his mind calm from the pressing matters ahead.
"Gerald, my dear," The maid said as she passed, carelessly but brilliantly balancing 3 glasses to a table not far from the door, "Did you enjoy the market?"
"More than I expected," Gerald said, visually distracted by the memory of the days scraps.
She giggled in amusement and approached the group after her serving plate had been emptied by eager hands. She gave each a warm glance before her mind returned to her duties. "Can I get you anything? We've got plenty of warm mead, why don't you sit down and I'll get you all a drink."
"I'm afraid we must decline, for now, as we have some matters to attend to. I'll let you know if we change our minds."
The maid nodded and returned to her duties, leaving Gerald in a slight pause. He turned to his companions with a grin.
"Pleasant lass, that. Out of all the leisurely freedoms your employment will delay, that of her company is doubtlessly the most regrettable. Now, how do you go about this? I don't have a lot of things, so unless you permit me that drink, we won't be here for long. My saddle is still at your lodgings, and I cannot abandon it, and the horse is at the stables not far from here. Might I suggest we split up?"
Last edited by Victory; January 11th, 2012 at 06:24 PM.
Moriarty had spent the remainder of the day loitering around Skogbrün, restocking on foreign plants and other travelling necessities, it’d be quite some time before he’d have another chance to acquire some of this gear. He had managed to escape the eyes of his stalkers in the bustling crowds of the market and once his cover dissipated due to nightfall so had the men. Confident that they had given up and left the castle, Moriarty spent the early evening sitting outside the inn, smoking and conversing with any interesting travellers in the mood for tale sharing.
“And that my friend, is how I singlehandedly saved my customers from the Murkroot Hunter pit and received double my earnings!” the man beside Moriarty took a long drag from his pipe and transformed his giggles into chokes. As Moriarty patted the ranger on his back, the grizzled man who sat across the table began slurring.
“Aye, but wasn’t it also your fault that they fell into that hole?” The man scratched his beard in thought before grinning proudly “Or was this part of your plan!”
The ranger reformed himself and shot back up to return the man’s grin. “But of course! The journey had been such a bore up to that point, I- WE needed some action!” a sudden toast was raised and much drunk laughter followed, although Moriarty wasn’t as inebriated as his company he joined the apparent celebration. As much as he liked to boast this wasn’t due to a tough constitution but because although Galen permitted the indulgence of alcohol, not to spoil oneself on it.
“Preacher” The shaggy woodsman turned to him as per his usual unexpected suddenness. “You bear many scars my friend, I’m sure you have a fair amount of stories for them.”
“I’m not quite sure they’re worthy of this table, I-“
“Nonsense, even without those marks I can tell you’ve seen more than most men, I’m sure you’re stories are worth hearing, tell us about the crusades.” The rest of the tables roaring encouragements made for a convincing enough persuasion. Lowering his tankard with a laugh, Moriarty wound up his right sleeve. “I don’t believe there are any recordings of Galech crusades, we tend to be quite accepting of most other religions, I did however serve in the Grand Kings Navy for many years” he lied much as it pained him.
Rubbing his finger along one of the more prominent wounds on his arm, memories of intense pain followed. He chuckled to himself before beginning “My crew and I had just quelled an insurgent stronghold off the coast of Halberdier. I joined the other officers in observing the clean-up of the castle. By this point the remaining resistance had already been crushed so it was safe to stroll the streets without fear. Anyway we decided to set to work on some wine we had found in the storerooms, settled down in what was left of the stables.”
Those still conscious were hanging on his words, it had been a long time since men had done so, the attention bought back the pleasant sensation that his command once did, one of the few things he missed from those days. “We had just finished our second bottle when I heard a distant shouting coming from beneath one of the bales of hay, before I could react a hatch was flung open from beneath it, straw filled the air and I jest you not but a man half engulfed in flames came screaming forth from the hatch brandishing the sorriest excuse for a blade I had ever seen. I was caught in such bewilderment and shock that he managed to land a strike on my arm and wrenched a chunk of me free.” His companions gave a mixed reaction of smiles as Moriarty did his best to reconstruct his facial expression at the time and gritted teeth as they inspected his wound closer.
“It wasn’t until after I was miraculously patched up that I realised what he had been shouting at me. Turns out he was a blind man from Ornarch who believed I was his mother in law attempting to steal his restaurant!” The table was filled with grins and laughter at the ridiculous conclusion.
“I know it’s not the most heroic of tales, but it’s the one I’ll remember the most!”
Although he had joined the laughter, the ranger appeared somewhat disappointed in Moriarty’s story. Moriarty patted him on the shoulder once more “Don’t worry amigo, not all my scars are as laughable. Might we not move this party indoors? The night’s cold is beginning to make its presence felt.”
Last edited by Mattbot; January 13th, 2012 at 05:00 PM. Reason: fixing up
"Time is of the essence, but while we remain in Stoneforge, subtlety must take precedence." Nil mused, "By all means, stay a while and have a drink. Klide will remain with you for a time, when you are ready feel free to travel to my shop without me, I shall meet you there when I am done."
"What's so important that you have to leave, anyway?" Klide asked.
"I must seek out an old acquaintance of mine, we will require his aid."
"Is he going to meet us at your shop too?"
"No." Nil said, simply. "I expect you to begin packing supplies for the journey as soon as you reach the shop, lock the doors once you arrive as an added precaution. The sooner we can depart the better, I trust Gerald will be more than happy to help you."
"Alright, good luck finding your friend." Nil did not reply, he instead turned and walked quickly out of the inn. Klide looked at Gerald, "Right then, did you say you wanted some tea?"
"Can I offer y'anything young man?" a fair-skinned Elven barmaid stood before one of the tables in the modest inn. She was drying her wrinkled hands as she spoke. The man had already seen more than a good 150 summers, but compared to the barmaid he guessed he was young. She knew who he was so he took the liberty to show his face and meet her friendly eyes. "The excellent pipe weed you gave me with earlier shall do for now, thanks." The woman gave him an understanding nod and went back to what she was doing before.
It was quite silent in the inn. Most people who came here were the travelling salesmen who were forced to find a bed in the outskirts of the city because they closed their stalls late, keen on selling every last product they had to offer. The first costumers wouldn't come before another couple of hours from what the man had observed the past two months. It was perfect, but boring even to the tastes of the lone man and his pipe. He missed walking freely among other people as he would do in Eshickna, and he missed talking to someone else other than the barmaid. Work is work, he thought. The council had sent him here with a purpose, there were talks of a prophecy - A real one this time around. All he had to do was finding the one holding the prophecy, and in a city with thousands of people - Of whom the majority changed on almost a daily basis, it was going to be difficult. Of course he had the guards made aware of the child he sought and they had taken their chance to hang up warnings of a highly dangerous Jotun reported to have been spotted in the area and any strange or suspicious incidents should be reported. The man himself had done what he could by looking at where children and outsiders would usually reside. The slums, the sleeping places of the homeless children, the outskirts. Sharing an unacceptable appearance he had been given the rare occasion to take pride in himself for assuming he could think like this Jotun child he sought after.
His only problem was that this technique hadn't given him any results.
Nil entered the quiet inn and looked around, he knew that this was where he would find the only other person who knew of the prophecy. He had always known that if the Jotun child were to be found in Stoneforge, he would have to deal with the man, and while he was exited to be given the opportunity to take part in a prophecy, that did not make this stage of his quest any less unpleasant.
Sure enough, he quickly identified the loner sitting at a table in the corner. Nil's could not help but grimace at the thought of a conversation with him, he had never agreed with the Council's decision to employ a Half-Elf. Matters of the Council were high above such an abhorrent creature, and likewise it was deplorable that someone of Nil's high stature should have to interact with him, let alone trust him with such an important task. Of course, Nil had not voiced these opinions out of respect, and he dutifully strode over to the runt.
"Sokeras." He said stiffly, sitting as far away as he could. "I have news. Is it safe to talk here?"
The man had not reacted to the door opening, but his mind had raced for moments as he thought of reasons why any costumers were in this early. Before he reached a conclusion his name was spoken and a familiar face sat at the other end of his table.
"Majna," he said and the barmaid looked up from her work. She saw the old elf and nodded understandingly before grabbing her cape, placing a "CLOSED" sign on the door and leaving. Once silence had fallen over the room Sokeras looked back to the old man before him. "It's safe." Sokeras could contain most of his eagerness, but the hungry look in his eyes gave him away. Finally something new!
He had great respect for Nilphas. He was a well-respected man, although Sokeras was perfectly aware that Nilphas had strong conservative views and thus had very little respect for him. Sokeras knew that all he could do was silently appreciate the fact he had lived long enough to see this many summers despite the odds life had given him, and even end in such an important position.
The Name had risen in Daniel again, focused on his agility, his sense of hearing, and his vision in the near-dark. He climbed gutters and jumped window ledges to reach higher ground and watch the paths traced by the vagabonds he had encountered earlier; they grew rapidly in number, rapping on doors and recruiting more men with the tale of this demon-child, this “Jotun”. They posted scouts outside all the major town centers: butcher shops, bakeries, inns, the marketplace. As the hours passed and Daniel made his rounds memorizing their faces and voices, familiarizing himself with the paths they were taking around town, he noted that they did not have enough recruits to cover the major streets or the alleyways… the scouts would not find their marks returning to town until they reached their ultimate destination. But scouts were all in pairs; once the targets had been spotted, one could be dispatched to alert the others, while the other stayed on them. Still, if they left too quickly… the fate of the demon-child could easily be tipped either way, and from his place of high ground Daniel stood poised with the opportunity to leap down upon either of the scales of chance, altering them as he pleased. As the Name had decreed so many eons ago, the power of the Norns could now be placed in mortal hands.
“They did call it a demon,” Daniel whispered. “Perhaps it is best if we leave them to their task.”
The Name made His disapproval immediately clear. The creature that these men sought was a child. Demons are never truly children.
“Ah, here we are! My humble abode.”
Daniel pivoted on the rooftop towards the source of the voice—it took him a moment to realize why this, of all the voices in the area, had stood out to him, but when the moment was over he recognized it as the voice of one of the men in the brawl that had begun when he had entered town. But had the man in question been attacking the woman who housed the child, or defending her?
“Quite a charming place if you don't mind the traffic. I do hope we have enough time for a cup of tea; do forgive me, but all this adventuring has made me rather…”
The voice trailed off as a couple of silhouetted figures passed through the door of the inn ahead, and even Daniel’s Name-enhanced ear could not identify voices through the wall. Daniel didn’t care to hear more, though—the foppish vocabulary and dialect had given him an instant dislike of the man. Still, thought Daniel, he is clearly not from around here… perhaps the ‘fancy-dressed stranger’ the attackers mentioned?
Daniel hopped across rooftops, dropped down to the ground, scampered across a wide street, scrambled up a series of pipes and windowsills to reach a new roof, and quickly made his way to a ledge overlooking the street corner at the inn’s main entrance. The pair of spies that he knew to be watching this inn emerged from the same spot they had been when he had first seen them planted here. They pressed their faces to the windows, whispering and pointing excitedly.
“Idiots, they’ll be seen,” Daniel mumbled. The Name was anxious, though—even if they were seen, they would have plenty of time to escape and spread word to the others.
Last edited by Varthonai; January 17th, 2012 at 02:24 PM.
Originally Posted by C. S. Lewis
"I have located a Jotun child, no doubt the one the Council has you searching for." Nil said in a low, quiet voice. He would have liked to go on to say that he had practically stumbled over him by accident, a sure sign that Half-Elves are not destined for greatness even when given such a lofty task. "I am in the process of gathering a small party of trustworthy people to aid me in escorting the child to Eshickna, to speak to the Council."
Nil saw Sokeras' eyes widen in surprise, as if he was expecting Nil to invite him to join the group. Nil's eyes narrowed, "You will not be joining us. Your task is to travel ahead of us and bring the Council my news, this will give them time to prepare for the child, and they may even send aid when we reach the outskirts of Eshickna."
Sokeras' face fell, and Nil leaned forward. "You will do this without hesitation or complaint. You will set out immediately and you will travel as fast as you can, you will not deviate from your path and you will not stop for anything. You will keep rest to a minimum, any wasted moment spent resting is another moment the Council is deprived of this knowledge. These events are far, far more important than you or any discomfort you might suffer during your task, do you understand?"
The eager look had died and instead Sokeras' lips had turned into a thin line and his eyes had gone hard. He stood suddenly from the table as a reaction to the old elf's words. He felt outraged that a man of such age and such wisdom would think the council to trust such an important duty with as incompetent a person as Nilphas had described.
"Questioning my competence is to question the council," he said with a sharp tone. "I shall set out immediately."
Deep down Sokeras felt hurt by the words, but he knew well enough that in his position he was only allowed to be offended if it was on someone else's behalf. He would never be his own person, as this was the cost of staying alive.
The ranger lead the group of six along the dimly lit rampart and back through the oak doors of the inn. Moriarty was the last to enter, a drunken mercenary wrapped over his shoulder. The Inn was a peculiar atmosphere in comparison to most, not nearly as much singing and laughter as one would expect there to be, far too many hushed and fear filled conversations. With most of the company now incapacitated or distracted by gambling, the conversation had dwindled down to Moriarty, the adventure drunk path finder and the fellow outsider, a bearded warrior whom going from the unique chainmail vest and scaled axe he bore Moriarty figured to be a man of Erenier.
“Ranger” The bearded giant began “You work a similar profession to myself, don’t suppose you’d be interested in accompany me to Danforth? With all this tension brewing I figure it won’t be long till the border settlements start hiring extra guard. Good bit of gold in it for us y’know.”
“Don’t you start talking about this too Dedric, It’s all a bunch of voodoo nonsense as far as this cat’s concerned. Let Caspian and his demonic devotees have their wasteland, not in five hundred years did they move any further north than that and I’m sure that’ll be the case for the next five centuries." He replied leaning back on his chair smugly and placing his heels on the back of a slumbering elf, Moriarty did not share his confidence and decided to contribute before the Erenier got a chance to submit.
“No offence intended my friend but I don’t understand how you can be so blind. I’ve only been here for a few weeks now and it seems I can’t turn around without seeing a refugee from the south, I think you need to acknowledge these “demons” as a threat you’ll have to face within your lifetime.” He gave a quick pause to make sure he hadn’t irritated the man before continuing “From what I gather it’s an outlook like yours which has left the creature in power for so long. I don’t desire to see another war caused by mans ignorance within my lifetime.” Dedric grunted an acknowledgment to him and took a deep swig from his tankard.
Nil did his best to ignore the fact that Sokeras had the gall to rise before him, he stood up slowly and fixed Sokeras with a stare filled to the brim with barely concealed disgust. Part of him nagged that he was being unjust, and another argued that Sokeras could not help being at fault due to his Half-Elf condition.
"Good." He said, eventually. "Then there is no further reason for me to speak with you."
As he made his way out of the inn, Nil inwardly shivered at the thought of having to interact with Sokeras in the future. Perhaps when there was more time and less at stake, Nil could take the time to petition the Council to cease their ridiculous tolerance of such creatures.
Mason suddenly was jolted awake with the sound of laughter from a group of men within the pub. He rubbed his eyes with his hand before getting up from the table. It was nighttime outside, so he decided it would be best to get the keys to his room from the bartender, and then figure out what to do in the morning. He doubted that he would be able to stay in the town for any longer than the night, since word of the stolen ring would most likely have spread.
He got to the bar stand, "I'll have the keys to my room now," Mason said.
(Matt I guess you can post what happens to you and I'll type the rest.)
Last edited by Big Boom; January 26th, 2012 at 08:10 PM.
I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid I haven't been alive enough.
(Actually, Moriarty and co started outside the Inn but have moved indoors at this point. next post coming soon)
“Evening my beauties!” Moriarty’s attention was shifted to the doorway of the Inn where seven shifty looking travellers had entered the inn. He kept a wary eye on them as they approached the landlady, he didn’t recognise the thuggish looking man at the head of the party but two of his followers definitely looked familiar to him. “Me and my company wish to rent your finest rooms for the night and the establishments most stacked wenches to accompany us to them.” The voice of the group placed a large sack on the bar.
“Apologies gentlemen but this is not that kind of establishment, I can give you the rooms but I’m afraid our finest are already occupied.” The ruffian’s arrogant guise dropped at the less than fruitful response.
“You know those men, friend? Not the kind of crowd I figured you to be acquainted with.” Moriarty’s keen eyed companion chirped from his side, the ranger pulled him back onto his seat with a free hand. “Best not to get involved unless there is something to get involved in, trust me.” Moriarty shook himself free and continued staring at the unfolding scene.
“Is my money no good here, old drab?” The man lifted the sack from the bar and examined the room with a sneer “Maybe if I had requested your company for the night instead, we may have received a different response? Apologies but I have standards, whore!”
Last edited by Mattbot; January 31st, 2012 at 01:32 PM. Reason: toasted posted
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
