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 Posted: Tue Aug 01, 2006 12:15 pm
Scarlette rolled her eyes to the murmurings of the patrons in the tavern before her attention turned to the bard beside her. Crimson hues examining him briefly from head to toe before her eyes returned to his. "So, what would you like, sir?" She questioned, her expression showing that of nonchalant. She truly was one to never care about others around her and what they say. If the people chose to gossip, so be it. True she would feel a bit bad if this man's reputation was to be damaged but, he did seem to take her offer.
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Posted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 7:44 pm
Rachael stared around the room, marvelling at the stone of the wall, admiring the light leather armour hung beside the armour-stand, and wondering what was underneath the lumpy sheet near the door.
She was so preoccupied with the objects in the room that she seemed almost not to notice that she had been spoken to, until, after several moments, she realised that the pikeman was waiting for som sort of reply.
"Er-- thank-you," she stammered. "The floor is more than perfect -- it's dry, and there's a roof. I couldn't wish for more than that. Er-- uh... where would I find a wash-room or something? I'm filthy, and I fear I quite reek from travelling." A blush was beginning to creep back up her face.
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Flynn MacCumhaill Captain
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Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 3:49 am
The pikeman nodded once before guiding Rachael out of the room, steering her with his hands on her shoulders. "Bath coming right up." he replied, stopping just short of a half open doorway. He carefully peeked in, to check if it was empty, to find one of the servants snoozing in the corner. He rolled his eyes briefly before gesturing for Rachael to enter, half closing the door after her.
The servant boy looked the age of late teens, his dark hair mucky and unbrushed. His clothes were almost acceptable, mostly in tatters and holding a dirty hue, and there were extremely thin sandals on his dirty feet.
"Boy. Fix a warmth bath." Zeyha commanded, startling the boy into waking.
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Posted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 1:08 am
"A ba- a ba-" she stammered, as he gently propelled her out of the room.
A bath! Luxury! A warm bath! Sure, Da Vaille had said that life on the walls would be tiring, cold and frightening, but if she got a hot bath after all that, well, what was there to complain about? Happy, warm, and clean!
A smile -- perhaps even a goofy smile -- spread slowly across her face.
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Flynn MacCumhaill Captain
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Posted: Wed Sep 06, 2006 2:35 pm
The boy hurried to his feet, hastily giving the pikeman a salute before fumbling the coin tat was tossed at him. "A nice warm one. She looks half frozen." the man commanded, "And no funny business. If she gives you a good word afterwards I'll give you another copper."
The boy didn't get a chance to reply for as he found the dull copper coin Zeyha was gone, the door clicking shut and his footsteps disappearing away down the hall. The young gaze soon fell upon Rachael, taking in her appearance before a little mischeivious grin came across his face.
Swiftly the young lad stuffed the coin that looked rather large in his hands into his clothing before moving quickly about the room to draw steaming water from somewhere, hoisting it over to one of the metal tubs in the room before pouring it in. Within two minutes he was done, standing beside the tub with a grin and two almost clean-looking towels as well as a bar of soap.
---
"Err.. Half a mead would be nice." the bard murmured as he settled himself contentedly in the stool beside her. He carefully placed his instrument on the bar, peering at it for a while before turning a look up at her. "You aren't from around here, are you..?" he asked after an acceptable length of time.
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Posted: Thu Sep 07, 2006 3:51 am
"hmm?" Scarlette questioned, slowly turning her crimson eyes to the man beside her. Her arms still wrapped about the boy while he ate. She shook her head. "You guess correctly, I'm not... Just sort of travelling through." She stated simply, a small sigh finishing off her statement.
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Flynn MacCumhaill Captain
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Posted: Sat Sep 09, 2006 10:21 pm
Rachael stood dumb while the youth bustled about. The water looked deliciously hot, and the mere thought of it made her feel all warm and fuzzy.
When he was done, and standing my the bath with a smile she didn't think she entirely fancied, she finally spoke to him.
"Er, thankyou. Very much." She paused a while, waiting for something to happen. "Er. You can go, now, thankyou."
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Posted: Sun Sep 10, 2006 5:23 am
The boy blinked at Rachael as she told him to leave. His face then fell, his shoulders slumping. He looked as if he was about to cry or whinge, but in the end he quietly placed the towel and things down beside the tub and walked towards the door in a dejected manner. "You'll.. Still give him a good word.. about me.. won't you?" he asked hesitantly whilst at the door, peeking round it at Rachael as he awaited an answer. Once he heard one he would immediately leave.
---
"I see.." the bard murmured, taking a sip of his drink as it was placed infront of him, "So.. This child of yours.. Did you adopt? I don't think you'd give birth to such a child."
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Posted: Sun Sep 10, 2006 11:52 am
Scarlette blinked slightly before her attention turned to the boy in her arms. She sighed softly, gently shaking her head. "No no... He's not mine. He was outside the gates and frozen to the bone so I suppose you could say I adopted him." She said with a shrug of her shoulders, her crimson eyes staying to the man in front of her. She remained the way she was, debating whether his first statement was a compliment to her. She figured it was but who knew nowadays.
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Posted: Mon Sep 18, 2006 4:31 am
"Y-yes -- of course I will," she stammered.
Once he was gone, Rachael did not set about the task that any modest young woman knows to be essential in an unfamiliar bath-house: checking for gaps and chinks in order to ensure privacy. This was simply because she had not bathed often enough in an unfamiliar bath-house to realise that it was, indeed, an issue.
She propped her gear -- which she had almost forgotten she was still carrying -- against the nearer wall to the great tub, and stripped off her patchy furs, down to her threadbare, travel-stained shirt, socks and breeches. They were so foul that she decided the best course of action would be to soak them first before she took them off, so still thus clothed she carefully slipped into the tub, armed with the bar of soap.
The water was cold and grey by the time she decided that she and her clothes were sufficiently cleansed, and she finally rose from those sudsy depths, red curls plastered across pale skin. In the poor light, she was all angles: jutting hips, protruding ribs, sharp elbows; a testament to the harsh winter.
Without really thinking about it, she dried herself with the slightly grubbier of the two towels, vigourously scrubbing away the water in the sudden cold. Her attack on her dripping hair left it standing out on end in a fiery nimbus.
The shirt, breeches and socks she had been wearing were fished from the tub and thoroughly wrung, then laid out flat on a dry patch of floor, before a brief search of her thin pack yeilded up another pair of pants, another pair of socks that seemed more darning than sock, and two shirts through which daylight could easily be seen. All this was hurriedly donned, and her hair tied up with a piece of string. Her boots looked practically princely by contrast... but even they were not worth brawling over, albeit largely because they were so small.
Furs and damp garments over one arm, pack and scabbard over the other, she stepped forth again from that door --
And was immediately quite lost.
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Flynn MacCumhaill Captain
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Posted: Mon Sep 18, 2006 11:34 am
"Well I hope you know what kind of trouble you'll get into with that boy around here.." the bard replied in a low voice whilst his lips rested against the glass of the tankard. "You'll be safer in a military establishment or in the inner city with that kind of child. I've got a friend in a high place, I could take you there and you can probably try to get protection from them - that is, if you are desperate to keep the child and yourself alive. If you wish to throw away the burden I don't mind taking him on the short trip to the nearby barracks." The bard, having had half of his drink, seemed to enjoy talking at great lengths and he seemed about ready to spill over into another explanation.
---
The servant boy could be found dozing leant up against the wall, the same way he had been found before in the bath-house. A call carried it's way from the very end of the hallway. It was pretty hard to understand the words said, but the soldiers within the barracks seemed to understand it well for soon a man without armour or weapons bustled up the hallway with all sorts of bandages and lotions - not to mention a particularly nasty looking glass of a strange mixture that resembled the colour of moss.
Up along the narrow hallway there seemed to a commotion in the end room on the right. There was a short cry of pain, presumably from Elizabeth, although it ended in a muffled and slightly strangled fashion - as if a cloth or gag had silenced her. As you draw nearer there was the faint murmur of men as well as the ocasional whimpered sentence from Elizabeth.
Inside the room the female knight half heartedly struggled against the two soldiers that were pinning her down on her front, one of them being Zeyha, whilst what was presumably a doctor inspected her back and prodded around the wound. Half of her clothes had been stripped, the padded jacket laying sprawled across the floor whilst her thin and sleeveless shirt was pushed up around her neck, the woman defenceless to remain semi-decent for what had been her undergarment had been unravelled and thrown to the floor beside her jacket.
The wound, initially a burn, had some of the material of her shirt seared into the skin whilst what looked to be bruising spread up her back and spine as well as around the wound in a one-inch radius.
"It's spreading.." the doctor concluded, "She's been cursed - don't expect her to survive." And he left it at that, retreating out of the room - as well as ushering the rest of the men out with him for a few had come to watch - without so much as bandaging her wound or cleaning it up. And so she was left, exhausted and sweating, in a half dressed state.
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Posted: Mon Sep 18, 2006 12:50 pm
Scarlette shook her head as she held the boy a bit tighter in her arms. She felt a bit of a connection, so to say, with the child. SHe had to leave her own family some while back and this boy reminded her of her smallest brother. And, he was not him but she still cared for him like a brother, or even child. She smiled warmly at the bard. "Thank you for your offer, Mister..." she said, waiting for him to fill in the blank before continuing.
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Posted: Mon Sep 18, 2006 1:46 pm
"My name?" the bard began, slowly lowering his tankard to the wood of the bar, "I hail as Selden Raoul, Barcaleb, Son of Ether Caleb, decendant of the great Ranulf Ita who sought only the truth of life." He gave her a lazy smile before lifting his tankard again, "Bit of a mouthful, isn't it? You can call me Selden, 'Elden or Raoul - I answer to all three."
"And what of your name, young miss? Can't go escorting you if I don't know your name. You look like a good elf, what family do you hail from..? Who are your ancestors?"
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Posted: Mon Sep 18, 2006 1:56 pm
The woman blinked her crimson eyes a few times before she responded. "Scarlette Liney DuVall." she said simplistically wit ha small bow of her head in greeting. Her name really was not all too long and she never told anyone where she was from. IT always either brought mobs or minions - neither of which she wanted. She valued being the loner she was. Not really having much of anyone with her. Although, she would make a great exception for the boy in her arms.
She did have to admit it though, this bard was a very handsome man. She really would not mind making an exception for him either. That could always be the some odd years of not having someone to 'be' with though.
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Posted: Mon Sep 18, 2006 2:06 pm
The bard stood from the stool and gave her an elaborate bow, his long and flowing golden hair brushing the floor as he reached the lowest of the bow. He was soon rising swiftly once more however, and downed the rest of his mead before turning back to Scarlette. "Shall we, miss DuVall?" he asked in a respectful, yet showy, voice.
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