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 Posted: Fri Dec 13, 2013 8:25 pm
Who: Tiffan the Cloak Servos, Terrowin her non-grimm caretaker, Sloane the Sword Infitialis, a Seer of the Fellowship
When: Early September 1413, evening is setting in and darkening the sky
Where: The Parzifal residence in Freykeep
Weather: Blustery winds with no fresh snowfall, deeply overcast------ The streets of Freykeep were beginning to calm from the afternoon's market goers. Evening was bearing down, shops were getting ready to close, and the winds were growing more merciless as the sky darkened. Two figures stepped out from a small caravan, both cloaked and furred with their hoods drawn and faces covered. One was imposingly tall and thick while the other was comparatively petite but far from small in the average sense. The smaller of the two held onto a piece of parchment creased neatly in several places from being folded.
By the time they located their destination and rounded upon its door, the sun had set and the lingering oranges and pinks across the mountainous skyline were fading into a dull starless purple. One held their hood close, covering their mouth as streams of hot air visibly puffed from their mouth while their much larger companion appeared less bothered by the temperature yet still stood with his back turned toward the gusts.
Two sets of hands knocked upon the door in near unison, a heavy metallic knock accompanied by a stiff and much lighter series of taps. The broad giant's cloak was tan and unassuming, wrapping completely around his shoulders and stopping just after his knees. Pieces of choppy red hair poked out from the hood, blowing stubbornly and tickling his sharp angular nose. For now he kept his eyes closed and leaned one clawed gauntlet against the door frame. The armored visitor's companion had a darker complexion; dark eyes, dark hair, and caramel skin. Their stance and gait was difficult to discern beneath several layers of cloth and fur but there seemed to be a curvier posture held.
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Posted: Tue Dec 17, 2013 6:18 pm
With the closing of the day came the closing of the shop, and Mylle, trailing a tiny red figure, made her way from the storefront to the living area in the back. Once she had seated herself by the fire, the small Plague clambered up her skirt to perch on her knee, reaching out tiny hands to grasp at the needle and thread that was soon offered to her. A few moments later Tiffan handed the threaded needle back to the woman, who began to embroider a piece of thin leather she had brought with her.
Tiffan was content to sit and watch the fire for the time being, listening to the cracking of the logs in the fireplace, the quiet humming from the woman she was sitting on, and the other various domestic noises that echoed through the building. Her heels kicked idly against Mylle's leg in time with the humming, though she froze a moment later, her head slowly turning to stare at the door that led outside. With a panicked squeak she quickly slid off of the woman's knee and ran in the direction they came from, deeper into the building and away from the door.
Mylle gave her no more than a cursory glance as she ran off, though, and thought nothing more of it as she went back to her work. She was interrupted, though, by the knock on the door. Her embroidery was given a longing look as she set it down slowly, heaving a sigh as she levered herself out of the chair. Weary hands smoothed out the front of her dress and pushed stray strands of hair out of her face before she fixed a pleasant smile on the face and opened the door. Her smile faltered for just a moment as she saw the two figures standing in the doorway, but it returned almost as soon as it disappeared.
"May I help you with something?" The door was not opened wide enough to let either of them pass through easily, and her free arm that was not holding the door open moved to rest across her belly almost protectively.
If the two were to listen very closely, they would be able to hear tiny 'thunks' that accompanied Tiffan's hurried climbing of the staircase.
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Posted: Wed May 28, 2014 10:52 am
Neither visitor made a move to enter when the door was opened. Mylle's greeting was met with a polite dip of the head from both parties. The tiny footfalls did not go unnoticed by the larger figure despite the wind occasionally whistling around them.
The smaller of the two took a single step forward to call Mylle's attention, then leaned forward to bow. "A thousand pardons for the interruption at such an hour," the seer began, then stood back at attention, "We are envoys from the Fellowship of Mages and have traveled from Anica to meet with one T. F. Parzifal on request." They unraveled the parchment and presented it to Mylle, offering proof of their mission -- the very letter Terrowin sent in regards to the Plague.
"It is our understanding that a Plague has infiltrated your home," the much larger figure stiffened at the description from the seer, "and intend to relieve you of it."
From his lack of input, it might have seemed that the armored man accompanying the seer was many things, perhaps of lower rank, in a position of servitude, or even slow witted. He was neither to this person and surely not lacking in mental faculties. While the mage fed Mylle their directive, the yet to be introduced Sir Sloane was glancing past the woman from beneath the hood of his cloak. Its shadows and his inclined head kept the man's eyes hidden, so that he appeared nothing less than human. It was impossible to see around Mylle's form, especially with the door shut as it was, but that didn't stop the Infitialis from detecting the scent of a Servos.
"May we enter?" the seer prompted, clutching Terrowin's letter stiffly.
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2014 6:42 pm
The polite smile fell off of Myyle's face as she listened to the seer explain their visit, her mouth pursing slightly as she stepped forward to get a better look at the letter they presented. The dying light of the sun made it difficult to see exactly what it said, but she recognized the signature at the bottom, and her suspicions were affirmed when he mentioned Terrowin's name. When the seer mentioned the Plague, though, she sighed, taking a step back into the doorway. She glanced over her shoulder with a frown, staying that way for a moment before turning back towards the two figures in front of her.
Her smile was back on her face, though it was slightly less welcoming than it had before. "Of course. If you will follow me?" The door was held open for them, and it was shut firmly once they were inside. With a small gesture she brushed past them, leading them down a short hallway and into what appeared to be a study of some sorts, still lit softly by a handful of lamps and filled mostly with a large desk and overflowing shelves. "If you don't mind waiting here, I will go fetch him." And with a final small smile she retreated back into the hallway, her expression quickly turning to one of irritation as she grabbed a double handful of her skirts and hurried up to the second floor as quickly as she possibly could.
"Terrowin, you oaf, what did you do?" She hissed as she made it to the top of the stairs, descending upon the poor man with little explanation. She cut off his stammered questions with a short shake of her head and a significant look towards his shoulder, where Tiffan was currently perched. "You have some visitors," she said a bit more calmly, palms absently smoothing down the front of her skirt. She glanced from Terrowin to Tiffan, mouth thinning into a line before adding; "From Anica."
There was a shrill shriek from Tiffan at the mention of Anica, and she scrambled underneath Terrowin's collar to find somewhere to hide. With a sigh, Mylle shooed Terrowin down the stairs, following close behind on his heels. "Wait, wait." She stopped him at the bottom of the steps, straightening his collar and attempting to get his hair into some semblance of order. "They came to ask about Tiffan," she said quietly, hoping the Plague wouldn't hear her. "Now I don't know what happened, but try to not make too much of a fuss."
And before he could protest that, no, he generally never tried to make a fuss, she gave him a gently shove towards the room their visitors were in and disappeared back to her work. And so, despite a steady chorus of "Nonononono," coming from his shoulder, he pushed the door to the office open and stepped in timidly.
"Um. Hello." He managed to make that simple greeting sound like a question, and it was clear from his expression and posture that he dearly wished to be anywhere but in this particular situation at this moment. His gaze flickered between the two figures already in the room, though it tended to settle on the larger one more often than not. Tiffan had stilled on his shoulder, hoping that the small lump she had caused under his shirt would go unnoticed.
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