Ьȴʊє Ͻ a r a v a n 🚙 🚙 🚙 (new thread!)

Favorite Character Poll Round 10!

Lucien Balthazar Mchale - Vicious hunter of humans and dragons.	27.3%	[ 3 ]
Vasul Calim Shahrad - Crown Prince of Shahrazad and righteous eagle among a flock of vultures.	9.1%	[ 1 ]
Lorelei 'Ellie' Katerini - Knight Errant and Defender of Justice who will kick your butt!	18.2%	[ 2 ]
Inyri Ven - Sharp-minded beauty and budding lady of wares.	18.2%	[ 2 ]
Eriol Epheis - Mysterious man with an eye for the prize.	27.3%	[ 3 ]
Total Votes:			[ 11 ]

This poll closed on November 27, 2014.
No longer accepting new votes.

[Lucunda Somina]

". . . Don't you tell me what you think that I can be

I'm the one at the sail, I'm the master of my sea. . ."

Bare feet pushed themselves off from one dock post and to the next, landing deftly as the girl who belonged to them skirted around a throng of fishermen who had just come back with their daily haul thrown over their shoulders. With a twirl that naturally came to her, she breathed a smile towards the men who threw up a hand to greet her and then to shield their eyes from the slowly setting sunlight as she did the same before completing her twirl and landed back upon the docks that connected her ever twining village. "MAKU-ahine," she called out as she burst through the door, and into the one room hut that currently housed a resting woman. <"There you are my violet, I was beginning to worry,"> but the girl's face grew sullen as she cupped an item to her chest. <"Sorry for waking you mother. Though, I got it,"> her sulk softened as she knelt down to the mattress that the woman laid upon and sitting her up the sheet gathered around the woman's protruding belly. <"Do you think that we could go to the festival mother?" You always were better than any of the dancers.> The violet haired girl frankly said, her eyes lighting up as she supported the woman and administered the liquid that was housed in the vial she had been cupping. <"Let us see if the medication works first,"> she wearily spoke and then let out a cough, followed by a few more as the young girl both held her and reached for the ceramic bowl that housed some water. Smelling the water first she then administered it, and sat behind the woman as she made sure she did not choke on the liquid. Soft and frail hands cupped around her's and drew the bowl away, pulling the young girl close and kissing her cheek again and again. <"But don't let me stop you from going. . "> she spoke and the two embraced, and the woman kissed the girl's cheek gingerly as she mumbled out <"Nah. . .it wouldn't be worth seeing if you were not there."> She stayed hugging her mother like that with the multitude of pillows at her back.

Gloved finger tips absently stroked her necklace and violet eyes narrowed not in disdain but remembrance. Could her mother have been healed as easily? A thought that would never be answered as she strode over to Ymir, and hooking an arm around his she eyed the stained shawl dismally as they headed back and to the fair. With the night drawing near she pulled up her hood, absently mimicking her fellow sister and keeping her gaze towards the horizon. Her mind sharp as she took in the world which seemed brighter. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she wasn't on the brink of exhaustion. As they shopped her eyes drifted among the wares, but also to her familiar companions. She knew Orien to be capable of defending himself, or so she hoped, but she wondered about the maiden who's name was a mystery to her. Nevertheless, she kept a close eye upon them as she eyed the garments that looked impractical for any type of movement. Perhaps women weren't meant to move much in these areas.

“Forgive my manners earlier, I forgot to introduce myself,”

Violet eyes had been examining the monstrosity that was, apparently, to be a dress, but the dancer did not think it to be so. She wasn't used to the heavy fabric but, whether thanks to the story weaver or not, she ended up purchasing it along with a few other, less intricate, outfits and a pair of boots that she was exceptionally proud she got for a reduced price. At first she did not think she was being spoken to, but realizing the context of the sentence she decided that she should look over, and sure enough the woman was looking to her and she shrugged to let her know that she wasn't offended in the slightest.

". . . I believe I heard Orien call you Kai, is that your name? Because it is a pleasure to meet you regardless.”

As they walked towards the tavern she cocked her head gently to the side, violet eyes closing softly as she turned pensive once again. She took in the information but more so the girl, as it became more obvious that she had been another lowlife's property. "There are more of us than you think," she spoke quietly in some form of reassurance, as she drifted along side Ymir and looking over to Orien her mind began to wander for a moment. "Yes, and this is Ymir,"she gestured towards her fellow dancer and friend who gave a rather appropriate introduction, and stood back and behind them with a bemused smile. "Though, I have to cut this meeting short and change into something less. . .drafty. I have a good feeling of where I will be able to find you all," she reassured them and bowed her head, disappearing into the shadows quickly and quietly.

She was used to disappearing but not so much returning, and during her time away from the group she reequipped herself and decided on the more elaborate outfit and a black cloak. The only thing she enjoyed about the heavier fabric was that it made it that much easier to stow away her self defenses and her cuffs. That and she had always enjoyed dressing up, not that she would divulge that information publicly. Letting down her hair she fixed up the powder on her face, and lining her eyes with kohl she followed the curvature of her eyes and extended it out exotically. Making her way back she only paid attention to her surroundings, catching many an eye but none that made her wary. Once it gets ‘too safe’, is when you need to worry. She would definitely have to agree with her friend on that one and soon enough she saw them. Though she heard Ymir before anyone else, and listening to her friend's muse in action she figured to have some fun of her own. "If I'm not mistaken, didn't you throw someone out of those very doors you talk about?" Her eyes held a mysterious glint as she smirked and leaned over the back of the empty chair that she draped her cloak over. With her thigh length hair brought over one of her shoulders she draped the intricately beaded, black scarf over his head and took her seat next to him. As she sat down she surveyed the group, taking in those there as well as a few seats left empty. She would stay quiet. . . for now.

☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲
♚𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Caravan | Festival | Tavern
♘𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲: Ymir, Orien, Sinann and co..
♚𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐭:
Dress |Necklace

☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

[jadeshaw88]

Lord Luther Brendis Highwind

Third Son of Duke Alaric Chlodwig Highwind II of Haelica

Once Luther had put Inyri to bed and insured that she was, indeed, asleep, he had gone to his wagon to feed and water a very indignant Nightwind who seemed miffed that his owner had disappeared for so long without stabling him. Then he led the stubborn steed over to the Lady's wagon to stand guard while he scrubbed down his own wagon with the oils he had gotten at the bathhouse. The scent was much stronger than he remembered it being and he left the windows of the wagon open to help dilute the smell. Either way, it was better than the overwhelming spices.

Then, he flagged down a merchant at a nearby stall and purchased some bedding for the wagon, promising to purchase the man's finest bed linens if he found him the finest mattress. Thankfully, it seemed that the merchant knew just where to go and returned moments later with another merchant and a porter carrying a large mattress that appeared to be stuffed with lambs wool instead of straw. Satisfied with the quality, he paid for the mattress, adding in extra for the merchant’s time and the porter and kept his word to the original merchant, buying sheets, pillows and blankets that were, perhaps, a little too fine for the wagon. He didn't mind though. The merchant had done right by him and it was only just that he did the same.

Finally, he returned to Inyri’s wagon, taking Nightwind back to his own before taking his official stance as sentinel. In total, he was gone for little over an hour and a half and he remained there until her sweet laughter alerted him that she was awake several hours later.

“Good evening, my lady, I hope you slept well.” He greeted her with a smile, his lips turning it impish with her question. “No, not the whole time but you were not left unguarded.”

He gave her a courtly bow when she asked him to escort her to dinner and held out his arm. No one had told him directly where to find the tavern but he had heard people talking about it in passing and had a pretty good idea on where to find it. He was actually quite excited to meet the members of this legendary caravan.

Once they got there, however, he felt his entire body tense, for the second they walked through the door, his eyes instantly locked on HIM. The traitor. The disgrace. He looked away, his jaw working as he clenched his teeth, despite the fact that he was trying to hide his reaction from his companion. He felt rage and disgust roil in his gut. This couldn't be happening. That filth couldn't be part of the caravan.

He glanced at Inyri add he helped her into her seat. Had she known that that sorry excuse for a man was a fellow traveler? She had to know how things were between them. It was only the biggest scandal, the biggest embarrassment his family had ever had.

No, she would have warned him. He had to believe that even though the thought that she might have been toying with him this entire time twisted a knife in his heart. Suddenly, he felt like he was suffocating. Like he had to get out of there.

He sat. For Inyri's sake. He had made her a promise and he would not break it. He would stay with her until she released him and he wouldn't let her until she was safely reunited with her parents. He sat but he focuses his gaze on the wood grains of the table and he doubted he'd be able to eat with the way his stomach continued to churn.

This had been such a perfect day…

Location:Tavern
Company: Errybody and that b*****d
Mood: Furious, Disgusted, irritated, paranoid, disappointed
Health: Okay

[jadeshaw88]

Ari smirked at Velius giving her credit for causing distraction and she wondered if the vision she had gotten from the oaf had been from the noble or Marco. It had been an odd vision to be sure. It was rare that she saw herself, even when she used to do reads for the other caravan members. It was unfortunate that she had been so water logged and disheveled. It would have been nice to see herself when she looked beautiful...or at least put together. Looking at herself in a mirror in a dark wagon or room wasn't really the same. Even with as gloomy as it had been that day, the colors were twice a vibrant.

She let the noble guide her to the doctor's wagon and trusted him to help her to her seat. That wasn't new, at least. She had always trusted the man far more than she probably should and it had burned her at least once. Still, she knew she was valuable to him as a seer and now because she knew all that she knew...even if she meant nothing to him in any other way. She refused to let herself believe that the kiss had been anything more than just the heat of the moment or pent up frustration or at the very least just pure lust.

She smiled in the direction of the good doctor's voice. "Velius and I have known each other for a while now. Getting wrapped up in his trouble is something that happens often and, though I hate to admit it, vice versa." She explained.

She heard the man's question to Velius next and then the sound of bones cracking and suddenly she felt as though her back was as bent and twisted as an old woman. She preferred massage when it came to taking care of her body but getting herself aligned was necessary at times due to being cooped up in a wagon or just overusing her cane. Today, she had been literally yanked all over the place and yesterday she had slept in the woods and been attacked by an old man that was a lot stronger than he should have been. She deserved a little pampering.

When it came her turn, she nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, please, that would be wonderful." She breathed, using all of her willpower not to bounce up and down with excitement. As always, she was mindful not to do anything that would give the noble ammunition to tease her later. Still, she couldn't help but give a happy sigh when she felt her spine pop back into place and the familiar tingling relief that radiated from the area all the way across her back and up to the base of her skull. "Thank you." Suddenly she felt more tranquil than she had in a very long time and, if her face had been visible, she would have had a sleepy and very zen look on her face.

She held out her hands to accept the tea when she smelled it getting closer. "Willow bark, valerian root and..." It took a moment for her to identify the other smell under the overpowering smell of the valerian root. "Is that turmeric?" She was certain that there were other ingredients to the tea but those were the main herbs that she could pick out. Each had pain relieving qualities on their own but she had never had them blended together this way. Still, she trusted that the doctor knew what he was doing. Velius seemed to.

She tried to not wince when the swab touched her cut. Not because it stung or because it was tingly or cold or anything like that, but simply because that was the knee jerk reaction to someone touching a wound. Then she relaxed once she was certain that the doctor was not going to press too hard by mistake.

She debated on his offer of a cream. She really didn't like the idea of having a scar on her face but some scars actually looked nice, in her opinion. On men. Ari frowned. "Yes, I think I would like the cream. How much do we owe you, by the way?" She was surprised that cost of service had not been brought up before this. If she had been poor, she might have accumulated a debt that she couldn't easily pay. Luckily she wasn't but still, it was unfair practice to surprise people with a large bill without first warning them of the costs.

Location:Near the Caravan
Company: Whitnee and Vel
Mood: Amused
Health: Gash on her eyebrow but better with medicine

[Aeroden Eternium]

Eriol Epheis



Eriol felt an upwelling of paternal instinct as he watched Willa tear away at food with both great joy and surprising savagery. The kitchen was certainly skilled in their craftsmanship, but Eriol saw nothing particularly admirable in the dishes. Even for your average citizen, this wasn't far out of the ordinary, yet she eyed it with a wonder that Eriol could only describe as that of a child's, pure, unbridled, and like everything was a new, exciting experience. To one who had spent so much time wrestling with duplicity and masks, it was refreshing.

As her attention became occupied to the piping hot plates quickly filling the table, Eriol directed his own towards assessing the motley crew that made up the caravan. There remained a handful of empty spots, but they would surely be filled soon enough. As usual, the group was as varied and colourful as a garden bouquet. At least one person seemed content to be left alone and out of the conversation, though that was only beginning to build. There was a green-haired little girl, attached to a pretty, if sombre, white-haired woman. There must be an interesting story there; he highly doubted any blood relation between the two. He realized his eyes had lingered over long, and he smiled at the child, concerned he might have spooked her.

Eriol noticed a pause in Willa's eating, and cut her a slice of roast beef, which she had so far left untouched. A new voice introduced herself while he busied himself filling Willa's plate. It was likely time for him to join in the introductions, before wine and merrymaking overtook the evening.

He turned his head to greet the new arrival, only to be met by a familiar face.

A face that brought with it everything he had tried to run from. Those amber eyes, brimming with barely concealed dissatisfaction. His mouth, pressed into a grim line. His expression, the same he had worn the last time they had met, the one reflected on the faces of his family. The universe was intent on making him suffer for his sins today.

The colour drained from Eriol's face, as he caught his baby brother's gaze, the split second before he decided to focus on the suddenly very interesting table. He flinched, having expected an explosion from Luther the next time they saw each other, Eriol was taken aback at his sudden determination to tolerate his presence. But he knew that Luther's patience was hanging by a thread. His brother had made his anger clear to him on no uncertain terms. Eriol could only conclude that present company kept him from sullying his dignity with a spat at the dinner table. He hadn't thought someone as self-important as Luther would stoop to being sent on a fetch quest for a stray black sheep, but it was a matter of family honour, and Luther would never suffer a blow to his, or the Highwind name. But these were private matters, and here was a party.

Eriol cleared his throat, attempting to force some semblance of a smile.

“Welcome to the Caravan, I suppose. My name is Eriol. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He hoped the neutral wording was enough to convince Luther that he hoped to remain civil at the tavern. If there was anything his brother consistently bested him at, it would be propriety.

[Agent Of Dreams]

Orien was quite happy to go clothes shopping with the group. For one thing, he had promised to buy some clothes for Sinann, and for another, he was just elated at the fact that Kai was here. It did not go unnoticed by him that Sinann still seemed quite nervous to move around in the open like this, and even though he doubted anyone would trouble them while they were in a group like this, Orien was sure to keep a careful eye on the crowds, on the lookout for danger. Fortunately, no one came to bother them, and Orien purchased some clothes for Sinann, both cold weather and regular. He also purchased himself a warmed cloak for himself, figuring that if they were heading north, he might need the extra padding to keep himself warm. But all in all, the shopping went well, and when it was all said and done, they reconvened at the Caravan to drop off their purchases. After that was done, they all made their way over to the tavern that was supposed to be where they were to meet with the other caravan members. The tavern was large, and boisterous, but the caravan members had their own large table to themselves. They took their seats next to each other, and shortly afterwards, the food was brought out. He caught Sinann’s glance as they sat down, and gave her a small smile in return. ”I’ve never been in a tavern like this before either. It’s so nice!” he said earnestly, taking a seat at the table with the others, and looking around eagerly. ”Most of the taverns me and Isan would stay at when we were on the road weren’t exactly the most comfortable places, to say the least.”

Kai disappeared to change into something else, and the food was brought out shortly thereafter, and Orien, who found himself ravenous, decided to eat and listen, rather than talk. He found himself drawn into what Ymir was saying about the different taverns he had been into. Orien had never seen any of them, but found himself thinking that one day he might like to visit them. After he had found the Star and restored the order, of course. Which, at this particular moment, did not seem like so far fetched a thing at all. Stragglers from the caravan filtered in over the course of the next few minutes, and Orien took to listening in on their conversation, eager to learn about the people he would be travelling with for the next while.

Once he had eaten his fill, he sat back in his chair, a content smile on his face. He looked over at Kai and Ymir, curious about the two of them. It was obvious that they knew each other, and Orien was eager to hear as much about his friend he she could stand to tell him. He wanted to ask questions, but he didn’t know where to start. Memories of their childhood, a few that were rather embarrassing, flooded his mind. There were so many. It had been nearly seven years since the outbreak of the plague, and he had not seen her since then. He thought for a moment, then settled on a question that might be a good place to start. ”You two seem to know each other pretty well. How did you meet, if you don’t mind my asking?”


________________________________________________________

Location: Market -> Tavern
Company: Ymir, Sinann, Kai, bunches of new people
Health: 100%

[oceaniaTyrant]

A mainstay of unhealthy inclinations.

Ordinarily, he stayed as far away from settlements as possible. His inclination towards shiftiness made it difficult to blend in, let alone make away with certain things. It was much easier to hide on the sides of streets or stalk between trees after prey. Looting everything they had from a still warm body-. Probably best not to nibble on those, but what could a man do? It was there and required no further movement on his part so stopping for a coppery snack before sifting through the rest of the goodies was perfectly commonplace. But sometimes. Oh yes sometimes it just wasn’t enough. Eyes, tongue, liver, kidneys. Occasionally he got a craving for something that meat just didn’t provide no matter where it came from.

That being the provincial, and rustic food known as “cheese”. He enjoyed its buttery and cloying flavor. Maybe it was something of an addiction, but the acidic flavor of the interior, the bitterness of the rind and wax. It was too delicious to pass up. Sometimes his intense desire for the dairy product lead him into towns. Like this one, it could be any old town he didn’t know nor did he care to read what the name was. Reading was for saps. No the only thing he wanted was cheese. It was easy enough to slip into the town between rolling carts and the evening guard. Not arousing too much suspicion, sticking close to traded bags of grain and barrels. Slipping soft and silent into the looming shadow of buildings. The feathers and bones hanging off of his mask rattling softly in the wind but he holds one red stained hand to the worn surface as though shushing himself before scurrying down a series of clustered buildings. The alleyway was narrow, but he was narrower still.

His target was beautiful. A wheel possibly three pounds heavy, stamped and sealed wax. Tied off with a little butcher’s twin in a neat bow. As he wasn’t the sort to carry around loose coins he’d have to come up with another way of acquiring it-. However his usual snatch and grab tactic probably would not work here. The distracting meow of a cat caught his attention. Head jerking around so two black sockets could stare down at the offending feline. There was one, and another and a third. So on and so forth. An entire gang of kitty-cats, trailing after the blood dripping down his arms and legs, lapping it up with fiendish nightcreature glee. Meowing at him plaintively for meat. Meat which he had, which is why he was dripping. Obviously. Tucked close to his body in a beast’s dried stomach. One for water, one for fresh meat. He never left home without it.

Poisonous little fiends. A low hiss rattles out of his throat as he flicks one arm out at them from under his heavy cloak. Sanguine splattering up the wall and across the rough stone causing them to scatter for the time being. With /that/ little issue taken care of he returned his attention to the cheese. Ah yes, his bride, his captive lover, held too far away from him to merely filch and go on his way. Instead he turns his attention to the buildings. Hooking his fingers and then his toes into the jagged bricks and scaling up the side to push through the overhanging thatch and instead creep low and slow across it. Testing it with his hands as he went to make sure he was still along the beam and not in danger of falling into one of the human dwellings.-

He was human. Yes. It was just a dwelling.

The shopkeep likely saw very little as they were packing up their wares for the day. Turning around slowly as they counted out the last of their gold, a sudden frightened scream leaving them as a pale faced monster stared at them. Horns pointing towards the ground as it lashed out with bloody hands, scoring their eyes and nose with fractured claws as it snatched a medium sized cheese wheel and vanished back up from whence it came. No sooner had their cry been heard did a humanoid shape go springing across a roof and then dropped into the fetid dark alleyways. Leaving the cheese maker to clutch at their face and wail in alarm.

That hadn’t gone according to plan at all, but his natural tree-scaling ability had come in handy there. Breath leaving him in cold, sharp gasps. It was always hard to breathe after running. He needed to eat his cheese and get out of here. But there were too many eyes back towards the entrance with some guards standing around the cheese stand to inquire just what had happened. So instead he slipped down corridors and narrow streets until he spotted a very dark looking building. Likely uninhabited-.

Oh how wrong he was. A light was spotted and he ducked underneath the window to avoid being seen. However this was not the end of his troubles for he was alerted to a low growl, turning into a very angry sounding hiss. Just down the side of this dark building was a tom cat, crouched in front of an over turned basket. Swiping at the figure that had almost trod on it. It sprang out from under his foot, making a half circle with its back arched high.

It screeched at him when he lunged for it seizing it by the scruff and enduring a solid clawing. As it twisted trying to free itself from the grip biting into its neck flesh. Alas the last sound the stray mouser made was a pitiful high pitched yowl as teeth sank into its neck, spilling its valuable life blood down the beast’s front. Leaving it to twitch and wriggle helplessly as it soon passed from this world to the next.

His arms hurt now, much more than they had before from the climb. Stinging and mixing fresh crimson in with the grimalkin blood added to his usual scarlet pallor. But now he had pussycat AND cheese to stay his growing under as he tucked deeper into the corner. Failing to realize how much noise that silly beast had made to those within the tavern he’d taken up temporary residence by. Instead setting to ripping away wax paper and string to get at the bitter rind. Biting deep into it, the taste of fresh blood and dairy was refreshing as it slid down his throat between bites of tabby organs. Paying no mind to the intestines and stomach but everything else was fair game.

Perhaps when his strength was restored he would strip off the fur and eat the meat beneath that but for now he was tired. More tired than usual. Eating was much more important when he was tired. If he was lucky maybe he could scamper out of here in the morning.

[Watervoir]

Ѵeȴɩus Kɩɾʈɑ
ɳoble

Velius sighed but he knew there was no way to worm his way out of Whitnee's help. Aria needed the treatment. In his haste to rendezvous with his guard, Velius had neglected to give the seer due concern. He felt lucky to have Whitnee's expert observation and care for the seer's health. It wasn't empathy that had him feeling this way, but merely convenience. Velius was certain leaving Aria's health for later would bite him back more than waiting another half hour to find Caden.

Thus, Velius helped Aria to her seat and then sat down as he was told. He watched with a quirked brow as the doctor as he circled around him to inspect him. He was relaxed as Whitnee put his hand on his back, which he had expected. It was a mistake, as he had not been prepared for Whitnee's move to pop his shoulder.

It was a pleasant surprise to find no pain from it. "You're quite the masseuse, my friend," Velius commented as he gave his shoulder a roll. This was the noble's first treatment from the doctor and he was not disappointed. "I have associates who could learn a trick or two from you, such as this one."

Velius observed as Whitnee administered the same treatment to the seer. Her sigh of relief gave him a chuckle. "Is this how you go about attracting ladies?" he remarked. "This one is a cranky one but I think you left her with a favourable first impression," he finished, effectively managing to tease the both of them in the same breath.

The noble conducted his own sniff test of the drink he was given. There was something else too, something that reminded him of that place he had supposed he would call "home". "A taste of the desert, too," he concluded. "You are well travelled," he said before taking a sip. He hoped the doctor would take that as a hint to share more about his journies.

He stood as Whitnee proposed the word "supper". Clearly, the noble was very ready to hop to it."I'm sure the good doctor would accept payment of the upcoming meal for his services." The suggestion was accompanied by a grin, for his words were a clear agreement for them to begin heading out for the caravan dinner.

[Leelee_Mraz]

Whitnee looked at the two with a smile. He was glad the adjustment had seemed to do them both good. He was impressed with their assessment of the tea. They were shy a few ingredients but both solidly on the right track. “ Very nice. The both of you.” He said beginning to pack up his bag. He looked to Veluis and nodded at his statement about travel.” I am. I never seem to stop moving. I add to my herbal collection wherever I go. “ He said standing up and facing the two. “Now to supper!” He said clapping his hands and wetting the rocks around the fire with water from a nearby bucket. He chuckled at Velius’ mention of a possible price and looked to Aria.




“ We are all recovering from an ordeal. My supper sounds like a fair enough price..” Velius said with a nod before turning and leading the group toward the tavern that they had agreed upon. Whitnee had forgotten how loud that it could be in a tavern. We arrived her lead the group to the caravan’s table. It was not hard to find. The pregnant woman actively demolishing a heaping plate was kind of a giveaway. Whitnee found a seat at the table. “ Hello Everyone.” He said waving in a general greeting. “ Look who i found wandering around. “ He said drying before looking around at the selections and carefully plotting a very balanced plate, reaching around to fill it. A good amount of fruits , vegetables and starches. He also poked around for the leanest pieces of meat. “ This will do nicely “ he said before taking his seat and searching his eyes around the room to ponder what he wanted to drink.

[Agent Of Dreams]

Inyri was quite glad when the food arrived shortly after she sit down. She was ravenous, not having had much at the lunch with Luther earlier. She helped herself to meat and bread, and looked back over at Kemun when she said that child was not hers. Inyri shook her head in reply. ”No, not greatly. She just seems very attached to you is all.” she said. She ate a bit of the meat before continuing the conversation. ”I think I remember you. Most of that day was a haze for me though. I don’t remember too much.” She thought hard, trying to pull up memories of that night. It had been raining. A man riding a horse had found her and brought her back to the caravan. She didn’t remember much after that. She looked around, thinking she might see the man that had found her there.

But she did not. She looked back at Kemun. ”I remember a man on a horse. He found me and brought me back to the caravan. Is he not here? I should like the thank him for saving me.” she said. She couldn’t remember what he actually looked like, and that bothered her. She remembered everything that had happened at her parents wagon, but everything after that, up to when she had woken up in the strange room, seemed to slip from her mind. She shook her head, clearing her mind. Best not to dwell on such thoughts. She was sure that, if the man was travelling with the caravan, she would get the chance to thank him. For now, she wanted to focus on finding her parents. And with Luther around, she felt more sure that she would be able to do that.

She looked over at Luther, wondering why he seemed to be so quiet. She saw that his gaze was fixed on the table, rather than looking around at the other people. Something seemed wrong with him, and she adopted a worried look. Perhaps he had eaten something earlier that was causing him discomfort. She placed a hand on his arm. ”Luther dear, are you alright?” she asked, her tone soothing. She looked up as someone with a vaguely familiar voice spoke up. The man who was speaking looked very familiar. In fact, she almost pinned who he was at once, and her eyes narrowed at the sudden realization. It was Alois Severin Highwind. Luther’s outcast brother. Inyri had not been there for what had happened when he had been exiled from the Highwind family. She had only heard a few stories from her mother about it. It was not the sort of thing one should bring up in conversation.

Her grip tightened over Luther’s wrist. His sudden discomfiture explained was now explained. ”I had no idea he was here…” she whispered to him. She pursed her lips. She did not really know enough about the situation to come to a conclusion about the man herself. She only knew that Luther had been there for her today, to help her with some trying times, and to continue to help her. She would be here for Luther, and support him in whatever way was necessary.
___________________________________________________________

[anais nighteyed]

x

xxxxxxx

xxxxxxxxKemun Eldstra

Willa, appearing satisfied with the answer, turned her attention to the spread that sat before them. For a moment she seemed overwhelmed by sight of so much food, and then she tucked into it with vigor. She ate as if this were the first decent supper she'd had in a long while, but her appetite was a relief to see. Willa was feeding two, after all. As another caravaner filled Willa's plate, Kemun nudged a few dishes in the woman's direction, wordlessly suggesting foods she thought she ought to try.

Inyri remarked that the girl seemed attached, and Kemun patted Thalia's hair awkwardly. "I found her in the streets," she admitted. "I'm still trying to find her people so that I may return her to them. They must be worried, no doubt. I thought keeping an eye out for her until then was the least I could do." Then she quietly deposited selections from various dishes into the plate of the green-haired girl seated near her, encouraging her to eat.

It was only after she had tended to the needs of Willa and Thalia that the pale merchant saw to her own supper, and her brow crinkled slightly as her gaze passed over the selection. A handful of these foods were a mystery to her, looking so unlike what she was accustomed to eating in her homeland. This was the plight of a foreigner in a foreign land. She was reluctant to admit to her inexperience with these dishes, worried she would give offense to whoever was hosting the meal. Silent and considering, she cast furtive glances at the plates of fellow caravaners. She hoped to glean something from their selections.

Kemun blinked when Inyri inquired about the fellow who brought her to the caravan in the midst of a storm. She did know of who she spoke, and at the mention of him she remembered how he had forced his way into the doctor's wagon. But she did not fault him for his actions - the direness of their circumstances had limited their options, and at the time, there was uncertainty as to whether the woman plucked from the mud would live through the night.

She nodded, and then her eyes wandered in search of his face. "I... I'm not sure," she said, not catching a glimpse of him. But the tavern, as crowded and lively as it was now, was a sea of faces where it was easy enough to lose track of one. "If he is present, I do not see him. But he might turn up, you know. I believe you'll have your chance to express your gratitude."

After another moment's deliberation, Kemun managed to muster up the courage to fill her plate. She tasted her choices tentatively, and then she reached for earthenware jars of seasoning strewn across the table. Using a spoon, she added several dashes of colorful spices to her supper.

The stranger who had helped Inyri to her seat was silent, his eyes steadily fixed on the table. Inyri soon took note of his discomfort, reaching out to place hand upon his arm. She looked in the direction of the fellow who had tended to Willa, and then she spoke quietly to her companion. Kemun could not discern what was said, and she had no desire to eavesdrop. A little unsettled by the tension that hung like smoke in the air, she turned her attention to her supper.

[anais nighteyed]

x





xxxxxxxxＮａｓｒｉｎ Ａｉｄｚｉａｍ

The tavern was quiet save for the movements of the boy behind the bar and the hushed conversations held by patrons. Glasses clinked faintly, tended by the barkeep; deep shadows gathered in every corner of the room to escape the flickering lamps that sat at every table. Nasrin was seated with her hands folded in her lamp, balanced in her chair with her feet propped.

It was not so very long ago that business had been conducted at this very table, and the arrangement still dominated her thoughts. She dwelled on her employer, the thing beneath the cloak with clawed hand, black as night. It sounded like a man, but with consideration she very much doubted it was one. Whoever and whatever he was, she cared not. That was entirely his affair. His coin was all that mattered, and she fully intended on receiving payment. She still had to put bread on the table, after all.

"Where did that scrappy lad run off to?" she muttered under her breath. She had lost track of Tobias for a second time, and she was growing frustrated with his flighty appearances. She couldn't wait about for him forever. There was work to be done, and they only had until daybreak to retrieve the spear that fellow was after. That wasn't very much time to work with, really. She would give him a moment or two to show his face again, but if he didn't do it soon, she was going to leave without a second thought. He'd have to find his own way - but he was the capable sort, he'd done it before.

She removed her feet from the table, and the legs of her chair returned decisively to the floor. Rising to her feet, she hesitated for a moment before stretching, and she winced at the protest stiffness in her shoulders. It was the price one had to pay for lack of a proper bed. Nasrin had her marching orders, and she went to the bar to receive her itinerary from the boy. The scrap of parchment bearing the depiction of her quarry, the spear that was guarded and not-to-be-touched, rested in the pocket of her trousers. She wondered, again, why the weapon rang and nagged with such familiarity, but she dismissed it.

As the two spoke, their conversation was briefly disrupted by a sound from just outside the tavern. They both dismissed it with little thought and assumed a few of the local cats were having a scrap in the alley. Before turning to leave, she informed the boy she would be looking for a helping hand or two for this job.

Bidding the barkeep farewell, she opened the door. Dim light spilled out from the tavern and into the alley, and she lingered for in the threshold for a moment before stepping outside. Nasrin glanced absently to the side when something caught her eye - the shape of a figure crouched beneath the window. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom.

"What are you doing there?" she asked, hands shoved in her trouser pockets. The door, left ajar, had begun to move of its own accord, but it came to an abrupt halt when she addressed the stranger. The boy was listening with great interest from his post behind the bar. The bloodied figure appeared to be tucking into a great rind of cheese. Nasrin raised a hand and scratched idly at her chin, not quite knowing what to make of the sight. "That your supper, is it?"

[Manuscripts and Pince-Nez]

Kℵigℋt and Sℯℵtiℵℯℓ

The guard could sense who called at him. He rolled his eyes. It was the rude, self-indulgent nobleman from earlier. “Guess who’s back,” he remarked, in an annoyed fashion. Normally his professionalism meant that his responses would be more neutral, but he could not resist the jab. His prior treatment of Phedre rubbed him the wrong way. He turned around to face the man before he could realize that he should have done so before responding to him, like he would have done if he had been a regular person.
The bloke was obviously drunk this time around. His face was flush and his movements wobbly. A girl drooped on his arm in a decadent dress.

“Darlin’~” she cooed, in an equally drunk fashion. “I’m not cut out for dancing in the mud like this, let’s go back to the banquet…” she pleaded.

But the man would have none of it. “Just this once, my sweet, and then I will buy you all the diamonds you ever wanted,” he beckoned her, and the girl nearly melted in his arms, figuratively and literally. She tickled the man’s chin and the man tickled him back.

Caden watched on, brows knit. He glanced at Phedre before looking back at the pair. Had they been forgotten? “Did you want something?” He was ready for some fisticuffs if it came down to it, but he wasn’t so sure anymore if that had been the man’s intention.

The bloke pointed a fat finger in Caden’s face. “You! Will face me in a dance-off.” He then looked at Phedre. “My pride was wounded when you, my love, would not spare me a dance. And I must know what is so charming about this dog that would have you brushing me off like a feather-duster to dust!”

The Blue Caravan duo exchanged glances. It was quite obvious whatever drink the man drank had been rather… invigorating.

“En garde!” The fellow shouted arbitrarily. “Let’s dance!” and started dancing with the girl he had brought along against a beat that had already transitioned away from the one that Caden and Phedre had initially set. The crowds were a restless and did not wait for anyone to keep moving.
Caden laced his fingers around Phedre’s and pulled her close. “I think… This is a safe time for us to make an exit.”

“Wise course of action.” Phedre mock whispered into his ear.
The pair collected their belongings from the page and went on their way. The other pair were still partying in their own world. It would be a long while before they would realize that their rivals had long left the premise. Phedre laced her fingers with Caden’s anew as they made their ‘daring escape’. It had been a while since she has done anything of this sort. Dancing, running into shady, but benign people, running away with someone as handsome as Caden with hands entangled and giggles freely escaping their lips.

“Hey, this way!” Phedre whispered out, before tightening her hold on Caden’s hand, so that she was leading the way into an alley, almost hidden by various decorations that fell around it like a waterfall of color. Caden readily obliged to her direction.

Phedre laughed as she pulled the man in, the previous activities having awoken something in her--something similar to the simple happiness she had when she was younger, before battle and blood and death became a companion. “Think he’ll find us here?” She asked, with a smirk on her face.

The pair slowed down the pace of their flight. Caden chuckled at Phedre’s inquiry. ”In the state he was in? Not in a million years.”

Phedre ran a hand through the front of her hair, fixing up some flyaway hairs that escaped her tight braid and disturbing her flower crown. “What was that even about? Guy’s insatiable. I’d still feel bad for breaking him, he’s just annoying though.”

“You can’t blame him…” Caden slowed to a stop, his interlocked hands with Phedre pulling her gently to a stop with him. He turned to look at the lady knight and admire the golden hue of her eyes. “He’s probably not used to rejection… especially from someone so capable and good-looking.”

“Hmpf!” Phedre laughed out, “You flatter me.” She said with a smile, obviously taking no anger in his words.

Caden noticed a flyaway that Phedre had missed and reached a thumb to fix it before he could stop himself. He then averted his eyes. “Um…” He peered down at their interlocked hands. His grip loosened but he didn’t want to let go. His heart and mind were at a crossroads at what to do. Phedre’s eyes had followed the movements of his hand, looking at it in something like expectation and her lips turned in into a bemused smile.

“You’re at a loss for words.” She said simply, stepping closer into his space and holding on tighter with her hand, since his was losing courage. “Did I shake your brain in your head by dancing?” Phedre asked, teasing the man lightheartedly, feeling light herself from the events of the night. “I didn’t know you could get so flustered.”

“What? Nah...” the man denied, although not with great force.
Phedre’s hand slowly extended forward and cupped Caden’s chin, tilting his head upwards so their eyes could meet. “It’s cute. Caden, guard and able bodyguard, but still good enough at heart for honest emotions. I like that.” Her expression turned gentler as she observed his eyes, “I missed you, you know.”

As she said that, Caden’s mind flew to his memories of the caravan braving the cold winds and pounding rain of Cliffrock. There, he remembered the loneliness he felt as they traversed the unforgiving terrain and he scoured hopelessly for his charge. “I missed you, too.”

“That’s good to know.” She said, smiling a bit. It would have been a real bummer had her feelings of dismay at being parted from the other knight been just a one-sided thing.
Caden found himself leaning closer in towards Phedre. Their eyes were interlocked.

“The thing is… these situations aren’t exactly new to me, but I can’t be an entirely free spirit like you… I hope you understand,” he said with a smirk on his face that was tainted by nervousness.

Phedre had observed his advancing with patience, noting the nervousness in the smallest details, such as the twitch of a facial muscle or the uncertainty of his movements. To his words, Phedre just raised an eyebrow, as if amused, and stepped closer, as if she were advancing on a battlefield, confident. Tilting her head slightly, she leaned in closer, so that every time she drew breath, Caden would feel it on his skin. Her eyes dropped down to his lips for a second, perhaps too long not to be deliberate, and then returned to his eyes. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. ‘These situations’? What situation are we in, Caden?”

She knew exactly what he meant. He could tell by the heightened aura she exhibited. She was as excited as he was. “I’m talking about...These ones...” He leaned in, closing the gap, and touched his lips to Phedre’s briefly. After a second, he pulled back slightly to judge her reaction.

Her reaction being that of obvious surprise at the downright innocent peck. She placed a finger beneath his chin and made a beckoning motion. “That was surprisingly sweet, for such a fierce bodyguard.” Phedre smiled, leaning in again, “I think that’s fantastic.” And covered Caden’s lips with her own, gently yet firmly at the same time. Her hand found itself in Caden’s hair, using that position to angle his head slightly so that their lips caressed each other like silk on silk.

Without missing a beat, Caden set down his bundle of goods on a cart behind him and then pulled Phedre closer by her arms. His hands tenderly cradled her head as he tilted his face to the right to share their fond kiss. He closed his eyes and felt the way their auras seemed to meld together as the pair embraced each other tightly and their lips met again and again.

Eventually, they pulled away, and after gazing into each other’s eyes briefly, they shared a bit of a laugh before deciding it was time to head back to the caravan and the dinner.

[BallDrogo]

“Guards, I’ve been robbed!” one shop owner cried out, noticing that her one cluttered stall had been picked clean of all its contents. Once populated with leather and tanned goods, it was now bare.

“Thief! There is a thief about!” another stall owner shouted. He sold gems and noticed that a few of them had been pilfered under his watch. One second he had been speaking to a rather nice gentlemen about where his gems had gone and the next, he had walked off and his emeralds, rubies, and sapphires were gone. “Thief! Watch your pockets!”

“My necklace!”

“My brooch!”

“THIEF! THIEF IN THE AREA!”

An alarm had been sounded in the commons. Stall owners and shop keeps had went from normally docile to on high alert in a matter of seconds, trying to figure out who the mysterious thief who was stealing their goods were.

A man wearing a green cloak with a brown knapsack poking under it was in the crowd, milling about, avoiding pushing into people as he walked through the crowd. Just a few more feet and he would be out. Sadly, the dice were not in his favor and only minutes from being out, he was spotted.

“Guards, there he is! The one in the green cloak! He’s the thief!” the jewel stand owner called out, recognizing him from earlier. He had been at her stand moments before his stall was wiped clean.

Without a moment of hesitation, the cloaked figure took off, rushing down the nearest alleyway, sidestepping passing citizens with professional finesse, knowing that barreling into one of them would cause him to be caught and most likely hung or imprisoned.

The fleeing thief did hit an obstacle in his escape. A sense of direction would have helped him and, as well knowing the city streets. In his escape, he ran into a dead end and stared at the wall, accepting his fate. The guards who had been chasing him stopped when they saw him staring at the wall and began to slowly approach him, weapons drawn.

“You have violated the law, criminal scum. What say you in your defense?” the lead, presumably the captain stated as he approached him, placing a hand on the thief’s shoulder to forcibly turn him around.

His hand passed right through. While it did look like a person was there, it was just a well crafted illusion. He tried to grab at it a few more times, hoping that he was just mistaken. The result repeated. Hand going through until the illusion itself disappeared. Bewildered, he turned to face his mess, ordering them to keep on the look out for the person they just chased.

On a nearby rooftop, a green cloaked man smiled down below. Removing his cloak, he turned it inside out, turning it into a dark blue cloak and throwing it back on. He, himself was surprised that even worked. He noticed the shopkeepers becoming more wary around him and noticed that one of them couldn’t take his eyes off him the entire time.

The name of this particular rogue? Francois Delacroix. Thief, vagabond, drifter. A silver tongue criminal who got by on his wits and was blessed with two particular gifts. Sleight of hand and the gift of a gab. He could talk up a barmaid while taking the coins from her purse. A wink and a smile and he was out. That is how he had been living his life for the past seven years and it had mostly been successful.

He removed the knapsack from his back and opened it, taking a look at the treasure trove of freshly stolen loot that would fetch a pretty penny from a fence, and maybe win him back his sabre which was taken as collateral. He ran into some debt with a crime lord in this area a while back and she got word he was back. One “meeting” later, and he was told to come up with the coin to pay her back. Slinging the knapsack under his cloak, he scaled down the wall, disappearing into a crowd of townspeople, keeping himself from showing off his sticky fingers.

Eventually, he found himself in front of a run down building. Stained windows, rotting wood and a half hanging sign ordained the front. He was unable to make out the lettering, but he knew well of the place. Knocking on the door in a rhythmic pattern, he waited for the tell tale sign that he was allowed in. The sound of a dead bolt being unlocked was his sign. Opening the door, his nostrils were assaulted by a putrid smell. There was barely any light inside, save for a few melting candles barely illuminating the interior. At the limited amount of tables, he can make out a few customers starring solemnly into their dirty mugs, as if thinking about jumping off a bridge. Multiple of them had to be in some form of a debt and this bar was their get away.

He walked up to the bartender, a surly looking man with tattoos adorning his right arm. Polishing a glass, he gave a grunt to Francois, as if telling him to go away.

“I’m looking for work,” he said in a neutral tone, getting a grunt from the bartender. Rolling his eyes, Francois leaned in closer, smiling at him. “Oh, you damn well know who I am, you grumpy b*****d. I have an appointment with HER and I am looking for some god damn work,” he ranted at the bartender, annoyed with this charade. Sighing, the bartender looked at Francois, as if he was ready to bite off the rogue’s head. Sighing, he opened up the barrier between Francois and him and raised a trapdoor leading down. “She’s been waiting for you,” he grunted, stepping away so he could step down. Doing so, Francois descended into the lower level of the bar.

It was as if he stepped into a different area all together. Compared to up top, this was a more lively atmosphere. To his left was a stage set with a group of performers. Musicans and dancers entertaining a crowd of cutthroats and those if ill repute. To his right were courtesans, showing themselves off to any man with enough coin to earn them a hour of attention. A party compared to the pity party going on upstairs. With only seconds to asorb in the attention, he felt himself being walked to a table by two burly bodyguards, each one taking Francois by an arm and marching him in a non specific direction towards a cornered off table in a rather dark section of the underground tavern.

Being forcibly placed down in a rather uncomforatable wooden chair, Francois looked ahead of the person whom he had the pleasure of being forced company. He knew exactly who this was, Erin. No last name needed for her. Only a few people knew what her last name was and those people were probably not alive anymore. She hid her features with a rather large hat and a comically long pipe, smoking something. Smoke filled his nostrils, causing him to cough a bit.

In this corner of the tavern, the music was not reaching Francois. It was as if he stepped into another hidden section. The silence was unberable, he felt like he was going to go mad. He went to open his mouth to greet her, but was stopped by a finger.

“I enjoy being ********, Francois. It feels good if it is with the right person. Do you agree with that?” she asked him. He didn’t dare answer that one, knowing he would be hit.

“What I don’t like is a selfish lover,” she lowered her pipe and looked at him, her features revealing themselves thanks to the courtesy of a lone candle. “Someone who just takes and takes, but doesn’t have the courtesy to give back. You’re not a selfish person, are you Francois?” she asked him, hazel eyes burning into his soul. He nodded in agreement. She chuckled.

“Yes as in you are or no as in you aren’t,” she asked him, chuckling. “You aren’t a selfish lover? You give as much as you take?” she asked him, leaning forward. “Is that right, Francois” she asked, getting closer to him. “Since Francois, I think you are a selfish lover and you ******** and left me,” she accused him.

It was at this point did he feel the cold steel of a dirk against his throat. “Past expierence tells me otherwise,” she snapped her fingers. Without even feeling it, her two bodyguards removed the knapsack from his body and poured out the contents in front of Erin. She examined them, she felt them and then looked up at Francois. She snapped her fingers again and one of the bodyguards approached her, leaning in so that she may whisper into his ear. He disappeared, walking past a curtain that he didn’t even seen. In a few minutes, he returned with two items. A ornately decorated sabre and a small coin pouch.

“I was wrong Francois, you aren’t selfish,” she smiled a cat’s smile. “To show off my good will, I’m going to give you something as well. A small bonus in order to show my appreciation and that I am not selfish,” she said, as the sabre and coin pouch were placed in front of him.

“As well as one more thing. You have heard of the bandit king, have you. I believe her name is Nasrin. Well, she is in town and I think you should join up with her,” she suggested to him, but it felt more like an order than a suggestion. “She should be easy to find. Brown skin and orange hair, not that hard to spot,” she motioned for him to stand up and approach her. Without much choice, he did just that.

“Don’t ever do that again, Francois. If I ever catch you cheating me, I’ll have you cut from throat to throat and hung to bleed out in the town square and I will do it my ******** self. Leave me, I grow tired of you,” she waved him away and in a manner of a minute, he was forced from her table.

Suffice to say, he had just almost soiled himself. The lady he had just met was a someone whom he had the pleasure of doing business with on multiple occasions, but the last time the deal went south and he left her holding an empty bag while he escaped with only meager possessions.

He had earned her apology, but can only guess that her recent recommendation to him was a "Get out of this town" type of deal. Setting forth back here would mean a death sentence for him, but she showed enough mercy to him, and even that was rare.

Now his main goal was to find this bandit queen by the name of Nasrin. He heard of a roving caravan of bandits, but not Nasrin. By his guess, there was a big enough coup and she took over.

What would he offer for his services? He was going to offer her a contract, be it 300 gold for a year, plus any expenses he would accrue, such as lockpicks and other burglar tools.

Rather forcefully, he found himself back in the normal area of the bar. Looking to the barkeep who had been gruff with him earlier, he cleared his throat.

"By any chance have you seen a fair maiden with orange hair and dark skin?" he asked, knowing that it sounded like he was going to be told leave. With a grunt and a tip of the head, he pointed in the direction of the alley next door to the establishment.

A mock salute was his gesture of thanks as he walked away from the bar. He chose the front entrance, as not to scare his potential employer. Composing himself, he placed his hands on his hips, walking with much gusto around the side to the alley way, where he came upon a peculiar scene. He was able to make out shapes, one was crouching and hte other, the dark skinned beauty, with hair that made her looked like she was kissed by fire.

"You are Nasrin, I presume?" he announced himself, chest jutting out, hands on his hips. "Allow me to introduce myself...Francois Delacroix, rogue for hire," he bowed in his flamboyant fashion, before reassuming his stance and walking towards the pair.

"Erin, a crime lord famous in these parts has told me you might be in the need for a new member to your merry band of men," he dropped his voice lower, as not to attract attention. "Consider this my audition," he snapped his fingers.

His body subtly trembling, copies of Francois began to slide out from where he stood. It stopped at a total of five copies.

"Now, they don't speak much, and they don't fight much, but they can move," he gestured with his hand, as did the rest. "They can evade, confuse and distract people an in the right light...Intimidate," he snapped his fingers again, the copies of himself disappearing.

"Now, we shall discuss my employment within your troupe. I think dinner and drinks are a grand place to start and draft up a contract," he returned his hands to his hips, taking on that triumphant position.
☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

➸𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Alley
➸𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲: Nasrin and unknown Bandit
➸𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝: "It is I, Francois!"
➸𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝐭𝗵: 100/100
➸𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐭: X


☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

[Watervoir]

█░░▌JEDREK

Jedrek was a journeyman, or so he liked to tell himself oftentimes. Armed with nothing but a machete strapped to his hip, a hollow wallet of a sparse few coins, and a beard, Jedrek was as rugged as they came. Currently, his voyages had taken him to the Glim, Gardenia it was, this time around. He was at the tavern because a price was owed, and unfortunately for him, he was the one who had to pay his dues. It was for this reason that he was at this rustic location. It was not his first time here and he was sure it wouldn't be his last. His trips to this place had been growing more and more frequent.

As he entered to the chorus of wind chimes, he made straight for the bar. Normally his drink would be a simple ale, and reasonably overpriced here at five coppers, but it was still a satisfying enough drink. Or so he'd like to tell himself, again oftentimes. Today though, he was in no mood for a drink, nor the hours in a day.

"Hey."

The bartender, a mere child, paid him no mind, apparently too engrossed in his cleaning of glasses. Jedrek knew better. He was sure he did not make himself quiet enough to simply ignore.

"I'm looking for work," he continued, and then followed without missing a beat: "Don't make me ask twice."

The kid looked up from his work for a moment to peer at Jedrek. A smile grew on his face.

Jedrek tapped a finger impatiently on the counter. The juxtaposition was almost comical: a small child leading what comparatively was a senior by the nose. Jedrek knew he was being played the fool, and he was in no mood to play at the bartender's games. "...I'm looking... for work," he said a second time, voice betraying a small hint of defeat.

"That's the spirit," the boy said, and then returned his eyes to his work. "Lots of folk asking for work today. Such as the women outside the bar. You might have passed by her as you were coming in. It wasn't long ago that she left."

"What's that got to do with me?"

The boy breathed a little huff and shook his head, as if in disappointment, and then turned to look at Jedrek. Jedrek straightened up and although his face did not show it, he felt a pinch of gratification seeing the child's displeasure.

"Well, did you say you wanted work, or not? Because, she did say she wanted a helping hand, or two. Look at that one there by the door; that fellow's about to go to the woman for the same reason." The fellow being a springy man of sandy brown hair. It didn't occur to Jedrek that there was no way the boy should have known the intentions of the bar's patrons, although he could have surmised that there would be nothing that went on in the bar that went on without his knowledge. "You better line up fast, or there will be no more spots left. And I heard the reward is rather handsome."

Jedrek gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement and turned to be on his way.

"She's an interesting one, full of interesting tales, and a charming scarf," the boy remarked with a grin as he returned to his work. "You'll like her."

It wasn't so much that Jedrek found Nasrin as much as he located the fellow the bartender remarked. Even if they weren't standing right outside the establishment, the young man was easy to locate. He was flaunting to her his magic. Obviously the showy sort. Jedrek crossed his arms and hung back, but still in sight of Nasrin. He wasn't so keen on showing off his talents, for they were not the type for one to flaunt unless they wanted a death sentence.

"I heard you could use some extra hands," Jedrek stated when he had the chance. He wondered what sort of labour would be in store.

[Watervoir]

xxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxx
xxxxCaden AlinarixxxxGuard
______________________________________________________________


Caden and Phedre decided to return to the caravan to stow away their purchases before they were to visit the tavern. Along the way, they exchanged stories about their previous adventures. Caden shared tales of his time in the Shahrazadian military, moreso on their operations rather than any specifics on the structure, which would have required more time and effort to elaborate on and were at times sensitive. He shared stories such as the times when the military would take a trip out of the desert city in order to help out the neightbouring villages. He mentioned the military's subsequent tendencies to book out the Jewel of the Desert and drink and feast for the night.

They had been a bit late by the time they arrived at the caravan, and by then it was mostly deserted. The most presence was offered by the horses, who looked to almost stand sentry to ward off ne'erdowells. The wagons of the caravan almost seemed to pulsating with energy and life themselves, as Caden could sense, as if they too were ready to spring to action should trouble arrived to rear its ugly head.

As the pair split to stow away their purchases, Caden had the chance to reflect upon the day. The past few hours spent with Phedre was the most relaxing period he had had for a long while, ever since Velius's disappearance. It had not been time wasted, since even he had to admit that a poor mental health on his part would not have helped matters and he had Ronove to help with the search. He considered waiting at the caravan for her return, but he was not so convinced that it was necessary.

He took a few moments to check up on Velius's wagon to chance upon seeing the noble. There was no such luck. The guard left a note anyway to say he would be heading to the dinner with the caravan.

"So where is this dinner being had?" Caden queried Phedre when they regrouped. He counted on her to lead the way. "This was an excellent idea. It's been a while since any of us have had a decent meal."

______________________________________________________________
x x