It had been nearly a month since he had returned home, and already he could feel himself start to grow restless. Yes, it had been nice to sleep in the same place for more than two nights in a row, and yes it was nice to not have to worry about scrounging up the money for food, but as the days passed along he found that even those luxuries did not hold quite as much comfort in them that they once had.
Perhaps the years of living on the road had accustomed his body and mind to a mobile lifestyle, and being stationary for once was such an anomaly that he was having a hard time coping with it. It might have been that, he thought groggily as he was woken up for the third day in a row at an hour that he never wished to personally see, or it might have something to do with the new addition to the house. Mylle's baby had taken mostly after his father (which was a good thing, in his opinion), and was a healthy, robust child.
Unfortunately he was also blessed with an excellent set of lungs. With a groan, Terrowin yanked the blankets over his head in an attempt to muffle the baby's cries, which had a small measure of success. With a sigh he began to slip back into sleep, but at that moment the other newer addition to the household chose that moment to show up.
Tiffan had been on edge every since the visit from the Fellowship, and as time passed her restlessness only grew worse. Already short tempers were made shorter as in her restlessness she got into cupboards and storage areas she shouldn't, messing up the carefully ordered supplies and records that were stored within. More often than not, any attempt that Terrowin had made lately to help out with the running of the shop simply ended up with him being shoved out the front door on some mindless errand, simply to get him and Tiffan out from underneath everyone else's feet.
These thoughts chased themselves around in circles in his head as he was prompted to get out of bed by the feeling of tiny feet running around on top of him. Still half asleep, he rolled out of bed, slowly untangling himself from the various blankets that had managed to get wound around him in the night. He groped around for his clothes, squinting to try and see clearly through his still sleep-hazed eyes. Once he was mostly sure that his clothes were on in the right way and order he trudged down the narrow staircase from the tiny attic room he had been staying in down to the kitchen, where the muffled sounds of someone trying to be quiet could be heard.
Mylle turned to look at him, an equally tired look on her face as she bounced her baby on her knee in an attempt to keep him quiet. The two siblings were quiet as Terrowin collapsed into one of the chairs, scrubbing at his face in an attempt to wake himself up further. "Mylle," he said after a moment, answered at first only by a soft gurgle from the baby. "I think it's probably time for me to leave again."
"Oh, Terrowin," she began, shifting the child from one knee to the other, "you don't..." her voice trailed off once Terrowin raised a hand to cut her off with a shake of his head. He had seen the brief flicker of relief cross her face before it was quickly replaced with a look of concern. "We both know I'm getting in the way," he noted that there wasn't much of a denial at that. "And besides, there's also..." He trailed off to gesture towards the stairs, where the faint sounds of tiny feet making their way down to the first floor could be heard.
A tiny sigh escaped from Mylle as she stared at her brother, a small frown turning down the corners of her mouth. Wordlessly she bent forwards to offer a hand to Tiffan, lifting her up to her face after she had climbed in it. "You will take care of him, won't you?" Tiffan was rewarded by a tired smile as she nodded enthusiastically and patted her on the cheek. "Good. Make sure to say goodbye to Mother before you leave, though," She said, tipping the Plague onto Terrowin's shoulder. "You know how sad she got last time you left without warning."
The sun had just reached it's peak in the sky when he finally was able to leave, and he gave his mother and sister one final hug before shouldering his pack and walking out the door. Tiffan had opted to ride on his shoulder for the first part of the trip, and spent the first few minutes of it waving enthusiastically back at the shrinking figures of the family. A spring grew in Terrowin's step the further away they got from the house, and by the time they reached the edge of Freykeep he had begun to hum. With a brisk wind that spoke of snowstorms pushing them forward, the two began to make their way further south.
Posted: Wed Jan 01, 2014 3:44 pm
They had left in the odd time between the end of fall and the true onset of winter, so while the air was frigid and the winds were gusting, there was relatively little snow on the ground thus far, which meant that the first part of their trip was easygoing for the most part. By midmorning they had left the fringes of Freykeep, and Tiffan had finally wormed her way out from the hood of Terrowin’s cloak. Once she was out it didn’t take long for her to shimmy down to the ground and take off running. Due to her size she only stayed a few feet ahead of Terrowin, though she often glanced behind her to make sure he was keeping up.
Her chance to get a bit of distance from him appeared a few moments later, though. A shrill scream echoed down the road, freezing Terrowin in his tracks. The Plague’s pace didn’t slow down a hair, though, and she ran off like a shot down the road, sticking to the edges where scraggly plants gave her some cover. The scream came from around a gentle bend in the road, screened from their view by a handful of trees. Terrowin rocked back and forth on his feet as he debated whether or not he should take a shortcut to not have to deal with any of the issues that come from screams on a mostly empty road, though Tiffan seemed to hold none of those reservations. Her path took her crashing through the undergrowth under the stand of trees so she could circle around the scene that was unfolding on the road ahead. Terrowin, on the other hand, had decided that the potential danger ahead warranted a short detour, and was about to call to Tiffan to have her come back when he noticed that she was no longer there. He bit off a muttered curse, looking around for any glimpse of where she had gone. Of course he saw a flash of red disappearing down the road, exactly in the direction he did not want to go. He exhaled slowly, weight shifting from one foot to the other before he reluctantly set forward, keeping a cautious glance around to make sure that no one would jump out at him from the side of the road.
He made it to the curve in the road without any incident, though there was no further sign of Tiffan. He had an inkling of where she might be, which prompted a sinking feeling in his stomach as he cautiously edged his way around the bend. What he saw on the road made him stop in his tracks, his mouth opening slightly in surprise. A sizable covered wagon was stopped in the center of the road, and it looked as if a small crowd of people had just spilled out of it. Most were gathered around another figure who was lying on the ground, though a few had gone to hold the reins of the horses pulling the wagon to keep them from bolting from the sudden shrieks of the person who was on the ground.
The yelling man was cradling his hand to his chest, and in between his shrieks of pain Terrowin could hear him moaning about his precious hand and how it “was all over from here”. From the looks of the crowd gathered around him they did not seem to be too impressed, for many were shaking their heads or had a frustrated look on their face. One, a rather large and burly looking man, seemed to be annoyed more than the rest, for he shoved his way through the ring of people to tower over the fallen man and gave him a few good nudges with the toe of his boot.
“Every time!” He roared, sending a few of the more skittish running back to the wagon. “Every! Single! Time! Your hand is not broken, it will not fall off, your life is not over! Our patron, your uncle’s feast is tonight, what’re we going to tell him? Hmm?” The man reached down to grab the other man by the arm and hoisted him up without a second thought, attempting to stand him up straight once he got his feet under him. He had no such luck, for the poor man (much younger than Terrowin had thought at first, he couldn’t have been much older than 18 or so) slumped back down again, looking about as sad and miserable as a person could. “Oh for the love of- Stefan, will you get over here and get him cleaned up?” One person split off from the crowd, gently leading the young man into the wagon, leaving the rest to mill around absently and keep a cautious eye on the larger man, who seemed to be the apparent leader of the group and seemed fit to snap at anyone who came near him.
“Um, Keldan?” A woman asked timidly, sticking near a few other people as if they were shelter. “W-what are we going to…” “To do?” the man growled, flinging his arms out (and nearly smacking someone in the face). “I don’t know! Even if one of you lot could take his place on the lute, we’ll still be without something for the performance!” He spun around, looking at the group around him. “Do any of you have any bright ideas?” he asked finally, his voice holding a note of hysteria. No one answered, though many looked around awkwardly in the hopes that someone else would. Silence settled over the stretch of road, emphasizing the tension radiating off of the group. Moments later a voice spoke up, one that would have been too small and quiet to hear normally, but the silence allowed it to be heard clearly.
”He can play for you,” Heads turned, frowns of confusion crossed many faces, for it was not a voice any of them knew. The look of terror on Terrowin’s face went unnoticed as well, for none of them had any reason to look at him except in passing. The source of the voice was eventually found, and many startled looks could be seen as one by one the group spotted the Plague that was perched on top of their wagon. One by one eyes followed the finger that was pointing beyond them to the man that was standing in the middle of the road, who was beginning to back up slowly from them.
Keldan, the burly leader of the group began to smile in a slow, horrible way, and started to approach Terrowin as if he was a flighty animal. “So you can play, can you? Well, well, well, I think you and I are going to be fast friends.” And before he could turn and run like he wished to, an arm was slung over his shoulder and he found himself being half-led, half-dragged towards the wagon. “I’m Keldan, let me introduce you to my merry troupe…”
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Subobo
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Posted: Wed Jan 01, 2014 3:49 pm
The next morning he found himself standing a good day's walk down the road, waving to the wagon as it was driving away. The previous day had passed in a whirlwind of activity, and had been so frantic and fast-paced that he found himself having a hard time believing it had happened in the first place. But the heavy purse in his pocket was a gentle reminder that it had, and it set a small smile on his face.
As soon as the troupe leader had pulled him off of the road it was an endless onslaught of tests and questions. A lute had been shoved unceremoniously into his hands and he had been asked to play this, play that, how does this sound? What do you do when this happens?They barely gave him enough time to stammer out the answer to one question before the next was answered, and they never gave him any indication as to whether or not his answer was correct or not. He had soon found himself in the middle of an ever-changing circle of faces adding in their own input, and under the scrutiny of so many he had felt a wave of panic begin to rise in his mind.
Tiffan had, thankfully, been sitting on his shoulder for most of the time, giving him a gentle pat on the cheek when he felt as if he was about to scream and run off. Granted, it was her fault he had been there in the first place, but that thought was at the back of his mind. His hands and fingers ached by the time the wagon rolled up to the manor, and he was stuffed into an almost uniform-like set of formal clothes before being herded into the great hall among the rest of the troupe.
The feast itself had passed in a blur, as had that following night. The troupe's patron had been kind enough to provide them with a set of rooms for the night, and most of the musicians had fallen asleep as son as they had eaten, and Terrowin had gladly followed suit. The morning had come just as quickly as the night had left, and he soon found himself where he is now, waving back to those in the wagon.
"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" The leader bellowed as the wagon began to disappear from view. "I'm sure!" "Pity! You know where to find us if you change your mind!"
Tiffan, who was still fairly vibrating with excitement, lowered herself from the top of his head into his view, attempting to prop herself up on his forehead. "What are we going to do next?" she asked, flopping down into a sitting position as Terrowin pushed her back to the top of his head to keep her from falling.
"Well," he said slowly, looking down at his hands. His fingertips were red and raw looking, and he could feel blisters beginning to form already. He was silent as he pulled the purse out of his pocket, shaking the coins out into his palm and counting them thoughtfully. With a series of clinks the money was put back into the pouch, and was tossed absentmindedly as he stared off into space. "I think we should probably get to Gadu next."
-----
By the time the sun had begun to set, they had made it into the city. They actually had been in the city for an hour or so, but they had spent their time searching the various streets to find a certain thing before all of the shops had closed. Tiffan finally pointed off to one of the smaller side streets, and Terrowin hurried off as fast as he could without actually running, managing to slide through the shop's doors right before the shopkeeper was about to lock it. Terrowin gave the man a sheepish smile, holding up the purse to stave off any complains. "Ah, I'm glad I caught you before you closed. I hope that you have a lute available..."
The negotiations did not go so well. At first the shopkeep was too disgruntled about being kept there longer than necessary that he was unwilling to budge on the price, and Terrowin was sure that he had raised it from what it normally was anyway. However, after about fifteen minutes of Terrowin unsuccessfully trying to haggle with the man he seemed to have a change of mind. His somewhat hostile attitude disappeared in an instant, and was replaced with one of over-the-top servility. It was strange, without a doubt, but Terrowin was too tired to think about it much at the moment. The price he was asking dropped instantly to something that was actually reasonable, and a bit of successful haggling brought it down a bit more as well.
And, in an effort to not spend all of the money he had just gotten, he also attempted to offer up one of his pipes as a partial trade, which he was sure he wouldn't accept as it was rather old and battered. The shopkeeper had a rather strained smile on his face, but accepted it and a little over half of the money he had in return for a rather weathered looking lute in a rather battered looking case. Then the shopkeeper kindly but firmly escorted him out of the shop and slammed the door behind him, the sound of a bar being dropped across the door echoing loudly down the street. Terrowin didn't seem to notice that, though, as he walked down the street in a daze with a rather large smile plastered on his face.
He still didn't think to question why he had suddenly gotten such a good deal on an instrument that usually would have been out of his reach, even now.
And Tiffan didn't have the heart to tell him that the poor shopkeeper started to sweat nervously the second he spotted a pair of glowing red eyes over a disapproving frown that was peeking out from within Terrowin's pack.
Posted: Tue Jan 21, 2014 4:33 pm
Once Terrowin had bought his lute, he had spent the remainder of the money on a small room in a tavern. And then he spent the remainder of his day in said room in said tavern. The first few hours weren't so bad, it was nice to be able to hear him just play music, not the idle wandering tunes that he played while they were making their way through the empty stretches of the forests in Shyregoed, nor the songs that were requested by others who were willing to give him a minute of money for it.
But after the fifth time of hearing the same song, repeated over and over until he had gotten it right, her patience had ground down to the end. So, making sure that Terrowin was still engrossed in his playing, she slid off the bed to the floor, carefully slinking her way around the edge of the room before wriggling through the crack between the door and the floor. The hallway to the common room was empty, allowing her to flit quickly down it and into the room, sticking to the shadows near the baseboards as she peered open-mouthed at the spectacle that lay before her.
The room was crowded, even at this time of day, filled with large, loud, and cheerful people. The handful of workers at the inn wove through the crowd effortlessly, bearing platters of food and jugs of ale to the thirsty and hungry patrons. Conversations washed around her, snatches of sentences mingling together to form an almost overwhelming wave of noise that almost made her scurry back to Terrowin's room. But she stayed. After watching the flow of movement in the room for a few minutes she eventually darted out, skittering dangerously between feet that came crashing down unaware around her. She safely made it to the shelter of one of the tables, sticking close to the leg of table as she steeled herself for the next part of her plan.
Now that she was directly underneath the table, she was able to easily focus on one specific conversation, something about a drunk man coming into their place of work, but eavesdropping on these men wasn't necessarily her goal in this. After watching the legs that loomed in front of her for a moment she rushed forward, skittering quickly up the one nearest to her and hopping off on the bench next to the man she had used as a ladder. She didn't stay in place for long, her head turning quickly around to find a way up to the table's surface, eventually deciding to just continue her original path and scurry up the man's arm as well.
Thankfully the table's occupants were too engrossed in their conversation to notice the small red figure tumble onto the tabletop, rolling to a stop next to one of the mugs of ale scattered across the table. The onslaught of sights and sounds stunned her as she sat, mutely looking around the common room in awe, momentarily tuning out the chatter from the men around her. And that was where she went wrong.
"Hey, is that damn thing yours?" one of them barked, gesturing with his mug in the direction of Tiffan. "Y' know I ********' hate those Plagues," he added, voice a low snarl. Tiffan was finally snapped back to attention as the man slammed his mug down, causing the table to jolt underneath her. And then a hand followed shortly after, smacking the table right next to her. With a squeak she scrambled away, ducking behind the mug just as his hand once again tried to swat at her. Unfortunately he missed and instead hit the mug she had hidden behind and sending it flying into the other man.
From there the whole thing descended into chaos. The man she had climbed up threw a punch at the one who had tried to hit her, though he was a bit too drunk to aim properly, and ended up bumping into another man next to him. The fight spread outward from there, much to the dismay of the owner who hurriedly ran forward in an attempt to get them to stop.
Amidst the scuffling, Tiffan slid down the leg of the table to the floor, hurriedly weaving her way between the stomping feet back towards the hallway that led to their room and (relative) safety. Despite the rush of fear and danger she felt as she fled the room, she couldn't keep the smile from spreading across her face as she heard the sounds of the commotion drift down the hall after her. She made it back to the room in short time once she reached the hallway, and quickly wriggled her way back under the door, scurrying back up to Terrowin's shoulder to let the sound of his soft lute music drown out the noise drifting in from the common room.
Tiffan gets lost in the hallways of Trisica University, and meets a new, not necessarily friendly, Plague.
Posted: Tue Jan 21, 2014 4:39 pm
Too bold, too bold....
Unfortunately, the money that Terrowin had was not unlimited, and after a few days the owner of the inn politely told him that he either had to come up with more money or pack up and leave.
It had been nearly a month since he had returned home, and already he could feel himself start to grow restless. Yes, it had been nice to sleep in the same place for more than two nights in a row, and yes it was nice to not have to worry about scrounging up the money for food, but as the days passed along he found that even those luxuries did not hold quite as much comfort in them that they once had.
