"Talia is your horse," Celi said. Her intonation was odd; that was not a question, that was a confirmation. "If you need help, I will be ..." she pointed to where Darian awaited.
"Summon me an' you need aught; I am called Celi (she pronounced it SAY-lee)."
With that she dashed over to where Darian stood, and then watched Mikal like a hawk through the rain.
The guards look distracted enough at the moment. Might be a good opportunity to bypass any delay and get into a warm shelter which is growing in appeal every further second he spends in this downpour.
So unless they are stopped he intends to carry on past the guards, huddled in his cloak as they all are.
Noting Cesare's intent to slip into the inn, Daxia hesitated for an instant -- concern for Fern -- before also heading that way. Fern would not move from where she stood, and it would be helpful to know just where the stables were.
The Heartwood Between Dusk and Dawn, the Town of Cragside Marketday The Twenty-Fourth Day of the Month of Raven, 2623
"Tcha ..."
The first Guardsman tossed back his hood, opening his cloak just enough to show that he did indeed wear the town's livery, before tugging it back around himself against the rain.
"What did we do to deserve this?"
With a chuff of breath they looked down the alley, a curse following and then a deep breath.
"Sure enough. Looks like you got a dead bloke there."
That's when they did take a step back, one of them counting off the folks gathered here on his fingers. The one who spoke then turned, peering through the darkness while his companion took out a hooded lamp from beneath his cloak. With a shuffle of metal over metal he turned the small light's shield so that it provided ... just a minimum of light. Using a hand to shield the punched holes from the rain he raisesed it, turning it to one male figure to the another until.
"You're Khorall Shannon's kid, right?"
He didn't wait for Conrad to answer before he continues.
"You know these folks? You vouch for them? If'n the Judge wants to be talking to them tomorrow, you'll be able to gather them up for us, your Squireship?"
His companion was already kneeling by the fallen gentle, looking at him, this way and that, straightening him out, checking his clothes.
"He don't look like he's from town, Denny. At least I donnae remember seeing him about."
For the others, the warmth of the Hart and Horse began to beckon. A pair of large doors beneath a small wooden eave protected the hall from the storm. At the best guess, from the noise that drifted through the shutters and the cracks in the entrance's heavy timbers it seemed to be nicely crowded; from the pattern of the windows the hall beyond was probably fairly large.
The first guard, the one at the slain stranger, glanced between Conrad and the folks he shared the street with.
"Staying at the Hart? I'll let Day Watch know.
"Me and Denny will take this bloke off to the Church, so as not to put you out. I'm sure the Father and the Judge will be wanting to speak to at least couple of you come the morrow. But come the morrow, aye?
"I don't want to be waking his Judgeship. He tends to get a mite grumpy."
"I am indeed Khorall Shannon's son, Conrad. As to my companions, I can vouch for their part in the events that transpired. I believe that we are all going to the inn over there to warm ourselves and take rooms for the night. I am available to the Judge at his pleasure in the morning." he said with a smile. "And yes, I happen to know for a fact that he is a bit unhappy to be woken in the night."
"Now, if you have no further need of us, I am going to accompany these ladies to the inn so that they can get dry and warm."
Camelia in alley with Comfrey, Conrad, the dead man, & the Watch
She stood behind Squire Conrad, and perhaps even a step off of Comfrey's shoulder as well. They did the right thing and now the dead man, whoever he was, could have his body attended properly and with some measure of respect. If there were people to be told, then these men would see that happening. Camelia was content that she had done the best she could for him. Still it was sad.
The Squire secured their future co-operation, again as was proper in lawful societies, and once they were free to return to their own affairs, she was more than willing and wanting to get to this Inn where she might find warmth and food.
Of course, it never left her mind that she had no money and depended upon the kindness of others. It was a fact of life for her at this point, and a humbling experience... but then again, this being the 7th handful of days since being taken from from Trundle on the Hill she had a lot of humbling experiences with which to compare.
She would wait on her benefactors to lead the way. The squire with his horse and the Healer with her enigmatic words of wisdom. And Camelia smiled within the shadows of her hooded cloak. She was thankful to still be alive, and have found the best of circumstances she could have hoped for...
He leads the way into the inn, a desire to be out of the rain and probably away from the guards hastening his steps.
He stand inside the doorway for just a moment letting his eyes adjust and take in the scene before him. His hooded cloak is drawn close and so not much can be seen of either his attire or his belongings apart from the pack he carries. His dark hair, certainly what is visible, is lank and wet and plastered to his face, emphasising the angular and slightly gaunt look of his face. No excess fat here, no signs of comfortable living. Against the dark swarthy look, his eyes stand out the most. Restless and watchful, calculating even and where his gaze rests, very direct. Trouble perhaps? Someone not to be messed with.. likely.
He turns to glance at Daxia and Kadri, a smile touching and softening his face briefly. People may be rethinking there first impressions. Maybe not trouble. Maybe more than they are seeing first - to be accompanied by two beautiful young women certainly says something.
"I know you will want to see to your horses but we should try for rooms first - maybe before the others arrive."
The is a brief hint of an impish smile now, perhaps hinting back at the first impressions.
Moving forward now, he heads towards the obvious source of rooms, usually the innkeeper.
Kadri is just a couple of inches shy of five feet and looks to top 100 pounds by only a few. She has long black hair, which is very fine framing a rounded face which is pretty, but in many ways childlike - mared mainly by a scar on her right cheek. The hair itself is braided and decorated with a feather here or a bit of cord there. It would be very easy to think she was perhaps twelve or thirteen if you did not look closely - but older if you did. She is dressed functionally, in mostly earth tones of grey and black - although the clothes do look well cared for.
"I already have a room here - and given that, I believe I wish to see Lisica to the stable."
After completing that, she returns.
Last edited by Art in the Blood; Thu 10/11/1119:27 UTC.
As she entered the inn, Daxia pushed back the hood on her brownish-gray Kierkegaard styled cloak, displaying her fiery red shoulder-length slightly wavy hair. The only other article of clothing evident at this point are her black leather riding boots. Her sapphire blue eyes scanned the room, then looked from Cesare to Kadri and shrugged.
"Happy enough to sleep with Fern, if it gets her comfortable in stable, yes?"
<Comfrey with the 'C group' of Conrad, Camelia, the soon-to-be-left Corpse and the (alliterative only Constables/Watch>
She nodded at Conrad's words. Though the hospice might make more sense for her in one way, the inn made more sense for the current situation. Getting everyone warm was important and she didn't want to leave CAmelia just yet.
Quietly she said to Camelia, "for things in the inn and other places," and passed her a small pouch of coins. She had enough and knew how awkward she could feel without a few bits to her name. She smiled apologetically and added, "In case I must leave quickly."
She had thought of trying to be surreptitious during the day's travel, but had decided that wouldn't be right. With a sigh she shoved an unruly curl away from her face and said more loudly. "The inn sounds perfectly wonderful."
Her glance to the man's body stilled the animation from her face and she briefly closed her eyes.
The guard seemingly satisfied with Mikal's answer passed on by to speak with the squire. They did not look askance at her nor Longtooth, and that was a good thing. She looked about the street once more beofre finally entering the inn.
Just inside the door, at the place meant for it, she gave her cloak a bit of a shake and pushed her hood back. Her skin was burnished dark near to the same shade as her cloak by a lifetime of outdoor living. Whereas the sun had darkened her skin, it had also lightened her long hair to a tawny brown though darker tendrils could be seen peeking from beneath. Amber eyes, sometimes called wolf eyes, took in the common room in a single glance.
It was warm in here, considerable warmer than out in the storm. She pushed her cloak back off hers shoulders, exposing her bow and quiver and an overshirt soaked through at the shoulders. Even wet, though, the pattern of weaving like that of the linen pants, was shades of brown from light to dark. The undershirt was similar. The leather belt and tall leather boots were browns also, and well used. A couple daggers hung from her belt, one utility, likely used to eating and such, the other definitely not.
The large ruff at at her side had fur of an indeterminate color as, at the moment, it was still wet and plasted to him. Moving further in, she did not wait so much for Mikal and Celi as much as she was waiting to gain the innkeep's attention.
Mikal - near entrance to inn, then the stables, then the inn entrance
He nods, and smiles as Celi notes his horse's name. "Celi." He replies, when she gives her name. "And I am called Mikal."
He begins to lead the horse to the back of the inn where the stables typically are, calling back, "I am fine. Been taking care of Talia long enough to do it in my sleep."
Moving around the back, Mikal looks for the inn's stables. He spends some time with the groom there making sure Talia is in good hands and that the horse gets a bucket of oats. He brushes her coat himself, wanting to make sure it is done right. Once that is done, he removes the equipment that he'd prefer to keep close, then turns to head to the inn.
As he works on getting Talia settled, he notes a few of the others who also had horses arrive and get their own mounts settled. He nods in a friendly manner to them, but his desire is to make sure Talia is well cared for and then to get into some dry clothes so he doesn't linger, moving back to the inn once the work is done. Still, the time spent with the horse makes him one of the last to arrive inside the common room.
Stepping inside, and removing his wet cloak, anyone looking can see a light skinned man, with dark hair, worn long, and emerald green eyes. He stands about 6 foot tall, and while he is muscular and well built, he moves lightly on his feet. He wears black leather and ring mail armour and carries a short sword and long dagger with a basket hilt.
His eyes take in the room, noting who else is there and where Darian and the others have settled, before he seeks out the innkeeper to inquire about accommodations.
Celi had entered quietly, occasionally shooting a glance to Darian lest she miss some conversational gambit. Mostly she'd followed Mikal's directions, though she'd secretly hoped he might actually need some help and would call on her. It was considerably drier in here out of the rain, but she was so soaked that steam would rise off her if she got too close to the fire. She'd pulled the scarf away from her face, revealing pleasant, even attractive features though smudged with road dirt and streaked by the rain; green eyes, tawny short-cropped hair. The cheap clothes were so soaked they clung to her slim body here and there, despite their coarse weave.
Tentatively, she made a stab at conversation with Darian. "I am Celi," she said. "The gentleman sent me to await him here. He goes to care for his horse."
The effort was fairly stressful for her; she felt a twinge of alarm and looked down, to avoid causing any insult.
Fortunately, she was saved by the arrival of Mikal. Even if he said nothing, she felt a twinge of relief that the one who had spoken to her was now safe inside.
The Heartwood Between Dusk and Dawn, the Town of Cragside Marketday The Twenty-Fourth Day of the Month of Raven, 2623
It is as respectful as it gets upon a cold rainy evening. One stands watch over the corpse. The other guardsman turns, and ducking beneath the hood of his cloak he turns down the street.
"I'll get a barrow from Tally at the Bar."
The first watchman nods back to Conrad.
"Aye, we are done. No need for all of us to be standing out in the rain, your Lordship. Good eve, lad."
Without thinking, she accepted the pouch from Comfrey. In fact, she didn't even know that it was a pouch. Comfrey put something in her hands, she grasped it and then realized that Comfrey had given her money. The pouch made a quiet clink clink and Camelia knew the feel of coins. Her eyes widened at the realization the the Lady of Aterra continued to bless her beyond her ability to repay or even dole out words of thanksgiving.
The pair of them walked ahead of the Squire who led his horse, Together the three of them followed in the footsteps of the other travelers with whom they had shared the road today. This evening's inn, the Hart nad Horse, was just before them now. The Squire would tend to the stabling of his beautiful horse while she and Comfrey stepped out of the weather and into the comfort of warmth and food.
"I can't take this," she finally had the courage to say. Even in a whisper it seemed impolite. How could she refuse another's generosity. That was rude, but surely she didn't think it fair to have this woman dividing her own coin in any measure whereas she might need it elsewhere or for others even less fortunate than she.
Camelia knew the Healer would not accept the pouch back, and she also knew that Comfrey was likely expecting this rebuttal. But it had to be done. Both knew that Camelia needed a few pennies of her own to be able to have some small measure of self-worth among strangers in a strange place. But the theater of it all had to be observed for customs sake, despite camelia feeling genuine about her gratitude and fear of taxing the Healer by seeming so needy.
She would follow the healer into the tavern, and allowing for Comfrey to clear her cloak's hood and take the proper steps inside before she would do like wise.
The young woman who called herself Camelia had strikingly intense eyes of deep azure blue which were in stark contrast to her pale complexion. Her lips were a soft pink, and just a little pouty. She was perhaps a little too thin and slight of build and proportion, but the standards of a desirous shape and build were not the same everywhere across the Heartwood. She pulled back the cloak's hood as Comfrey was entering the Inn now, and her long, golden blonde hair fell more freely over her shoulders, down her back and across her chest so as to obscure the upper portion of her borrowed tunic. Camelia's eyes scanned the crowd already there, searching the faces for those who had abducted her. That nervousness was as controlled as her fear would be right now. She didn't dare let Comfrey get ahead of her enough to become lost in the crowd, and despite having a few coins, she still felt the need to stay close to the only friendly faces she had met thus far in her difficult travels from the Imperial Palace in Trundle.
The inn wasn't far ahead, and Comfrey could feel the warmth and welcome. She'd never met an inn that hadn't been friendly or people who had been out of bounds rude. Somehow she doubted this one would be it either. Besides, she'd already recognize some of the people in it. She knew an answer to exactly what had happened and why might not be forcoming right away, but she hoped to hear more later. A few steps happened before Camelia spoke.
She smiled back at Camelia at the words, and her eyes danced with some surpressed emotion. "One day, when you are able, pass something like it to another and I've been paid tenfold, hmm? The inn is ahead, and by staying together, none will be alone."
With that she entered and carefully removed her cloak so the dripping wouldn't add too much more to the dampness most likely within. She stepped enough in to let Camelia enter as well and give her time for her eyes to adjust without revealing her to the crowd until she was willing.
The average-sized woman looked around the inn, her brown eyes seeing who was already within and what might be in the ofering for dinner. Camelia still needed more food, warm food. Conrad would be in soon enough as well which was all to the good for now.
With long habit she brushed some of the corkscrewing curls that had escaped the morning's traveling braid out of her face and behind her ears.
"Darian." Celi savored the name, rolled it around on her tongue, then nodded briefly. She regarded Longtooth with a steady gaze, looking him over from head to toe; she seemed to find him interesting.
"Longtooth. He is quite handsome." She quietly tried to scan his body language, insofar as it told her anything about his likes and dislikes, particularly other people touching him. He might tolerate it at Darian's request, but if he didn't like it, Celi would never impose.
Darian & Longtooth with Celi and Mikal, Inn Common Room
The big ruff looked the girl called Celi up and down with a measuring stare, his eyes nearly the same shade as Darian's. His stance remained guarded but he did not growl. One of Darian's hands was in his scruff again. It was not in the manner of an owned pet, but rather two comrades who stood together.
"He thinks so," she said evenly.
She felt his hind quarter bump her knee and looked down to him again. woman and ruff exchanged a look.
"He chose you," Celi hazarded. "Both of you appear justifiably proud. Tell me ... is he full Snarkhound blood? I am not very knowledgeable about the breed, but the conformation is right."
She frowned, then her eyes widened. "If I say a wrong thing, please -- forgive me. No insult is intended. I am merely curious about such a wonder of nature."
Darian & Longtooth with Celi and Mikal, inn common room
At the word snarkhound, her eyes widened a bit and she shook her head vehemently. Longtooth let out a warning growl. Was this girl truly that naive? Was she trying to get them burnt at the stake? The Imperials only turned so much of a blind eye to her kind.
She was fairly sure Mikal suspected, but he had not named the breed. He had not been so unwise. And to say it here, in a room full of people...
"He is a common ruff, nothing more," she said finally, a warning note in her tone.
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Camelia knew the Healer would not accept the pouch back, and she also knew that Comfrey was likely expecting this rebuttal. But it had to be done. Both knew that Camelia needed a few pennies of her own to be able to have some small measure of self-worth among strangers in a strange place. But the theater of it all had to be observed for customs sake, despite camelia feeling genuine about her gratitude and fear of taxing the Healer by seeming so needy.