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Bekkah

She was relieved that Keiko too the time to talk to the man for she disliked being the center of anyone's attention. She even put up with the girl's flattery, taking it all in stride. She nodded at a lot of the girl's accounting of their tale, especially the part about the forest still not being safe and the true treasure that has come from it.

She gave Cesare and Lyric an appreciative smile, hoping they'd also come to speak to the man. Smells from Missus Miller's place was making her even more hungry.

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Cesare

Almost at the top of the stairs now as he follows Lyric to the top. He can see the merchant, Keiko and Bekkah together. With a sad smile he realises that this is now the size of the new group he will travel on with but only if all decide to go.

He would like the numbers to be higher. Some of the scrapes they have been in over the last year or two have required the strength of numbers and he knows the world is a dangerous place. So maybe a different approach then?

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Lyric, Minstrel of the High Tarn, Bard from Kethy's Woods

Walking the many and numerous steps, Lyric began to find herself preoccupied by the steps themselves. Some she would step over to take two steps at a time and that was a game in it's own right, but on others, she would make sure that both feet touched each treadle. This could not have been easy for Cesare to follow her uneven pace. But she seemed unconcerned about the destination and those who were ahead and above them. In fact, she seemed wholly consumed by the steps she was taking and the steps upon which she took them. The variegation of the small leaves of grasses and weeds that fought a hard scrabble life in the cracks and hardpack earth was an easy distraction for her. It was a metaphor she identified with easily. But there were also the steps themselves, cut and hewn where needed, or placed with another that complimented the shapes needed to make a more complete whole, thus giving hope in the spaces between for the struggle of life to take place.

One step at a time, two steps, then both foot on each step. No order or rhythm, and pauses at times to contemplate a thought inspired by a sight.

Emotions played out upon the face of the girl whose face was vibrant and youthful, and whose eyes were wells of wisdom.

But finally the steps gave way to the landing and she seemed momentarily saddened at the end of the experience at hand, but another awaited. Another always awaited. Hmm, that too seemed an appropriate metaphor as well. Lyric turned around in a full circle as Keiko was directing the attention of the Trade master man to Cesare. She glanced around the young Rhoni man to survey the journey taken thus far. And her mind followed suit with a recounting of the metaphoric steps that brought her to this moment as well. She smiled at the view below and then to Cesare before turning again to those they were joining.

She paused, and the mercurial slipped away in favor of the sage, and yet there was a sharpness to her tone that should convey caution. She looked at Keiko but her words were meant for the Marrennen.

"Given the few words 'traded' to me by the young apprentice at the edge of his caravan, I can safely say that what he wants to hear is a means and ways of traversing the dangers of the Remnant of the Great Forest, God Cursed or Eastern Wind Touched, to pillage it's secrets and treasures and circumvent the Korie edict concerning trade with the denizens of the Forest, whom he despises and loathes and denies personage, despite the Imperial Goddess Attera bestowing a blessing that was felt spreading outward to all corners and edges of her Dominion and Reach like a message of her Divine Will and Intent."

She shrugged and smiled sanguinely, as if the sting of her words and the intensity with which she delivered them pleased her. Her eyes lingered on Bekkah and she nodded respectfully before fixing her attention on the Marrennen master.

"You do not need hear of a tale, nor should we waste the precious time, the value of which you count in coins, to get your answer."

The young minstrel stepped a pace closer to the larger man. "Listen closely and heed my words..."

"You would be foolish, dangerously so, to venture into those dark and befouled woods. The horrors that lurk within, tales you know all too well, are very real, and yet worse than you might ever imagine. They remain, waiting, hungry, ever vigilant, angry, vengeful..."

And tell a story she did, despite the previous and prefacing words stating a story was not needed. She was a bard, and words were her craft.

"No amount of bravery, bolstered by steel, dark or otherwise, will grant you safe passage. Insanity will grip you as surely as it did the Mad Imperial Prince and his minions and you too will descend into the derangement of evil and greed... and never see the Light of 'She Who Crosses the Sky' again. Trees will rend flesh from bone, giving no quarter for station or birth, offering no mercy for coin nor gem. Creatures born in darkness, tempered in madness, hunt for the weak and foolish. Dark magics linger. There is only hunger, and all that dwells within that shadows cast by that poisoned place are either Predator or Prey."

Another step closer and shifting to walk around the Marrennen.

"But be warned, you will assuredly think you will enter as the former only to discover you are the latter. But, by then, then it will be too late to reconsider your choices. The Dirkwood will become your grave."

"There won't even be stories of speculation to mark the loss of your presence across the Heartwood. For, if the vastness of the Great Army of an Imperial Prince was reduced to an insane and gibbering few, clinging to threads of memories of their former selves, what hope have you?"

Continuing her path to circle him, watching him as she did, unconcerned if her was turning to follow her attention of not.

"Oh, but lest you think the forest's harsh will and grim prosecution be broken now because a Lady Of Attera ventured across that Veil of Despair and returned, I implore you... No, I beg you... Dismiss those thoughts immediately. You are not she who serves the Goddess and your intentions for entering the Dirkwood are certainly not hers. Whatever Grace the priestess carries, whatever Blessing she bears from her Goddess, is not yours to claim. And if her Holy Imperial Kindness parted a path for her priestess into and out of evil, you and yours will not find succor under the same mantle. No, you will not even discover the evidence nor wake of Lady Attera's trail before the horrors overtake you, consuming you wholly and leaving your goods and trinkets you call weapons and armor to be gathered and traded back to those who will surely fill the void left by your unremarkable demise on some future unremarkable market day."

Coming full circle, she fixed her unblinking eyes harshly upon the Master Merchant. Her thin smile was grim and just a little feral. This was a role fit for the dark tale she told.

"No songs will be written, no tales will be told, and no deeds will be remembered... save that of a simple cautionary ditty spun to children on the foolishness of greed and it's consequences. Enter the Great Forest at your own peril. But remember... The dead do not get to sing their own songs nor count their own coins."

And just like that, the mercurial minstrel was returned and she laughed a small chortle with wide eyes as she turned away from the Marrennen to look at her remaining companions. her personality switched all too easily. Was she really that odd? Touched in the head maybe?

"But what do I know... I am just a lowly Minstrel," she said with a grin and a shrug that included upturned hands.


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Bekkah

Her eyes opened wide at Lyric's initial statement, then she fought hard not to smile at the girl. She was clearly skilled, well beyond anything Bekkah had come across in her ability to tell a tale. Her glance moved from the well spoken young lady to the merchant to see how he was reacting to her words, both harsh and true. Whether he realized it or not, she was saving his life if her listened to her. Something though made her wonder if he would heed her words or if the allure of untapped riches would pull him to his death.

If Lyric look her way, she'd give the girl an understanding smile and a respectful bow of her head.

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Cesare

Well it did seem that the merchant was owed a lecture and it did seem that Lyric was exactly the right person to administer it. He stands relaxed as he listens but cannot help the grin that appears on his face.

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The Heartwood
The Dirkwood Forest
Waverider’s Watch
Marketday, the Ninth Day of Yrick


Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … Tomomi, a Marrennen Merchant Prince and a Grumpy Old Woman.

The Merchant Prince listened to the Rhoni-lass, his lips twitching every now and then, upon one fragment of a tale and then another. he too was skilled in the ways of fancy Speech but as Keiko never strayed far from the truth he could not tell if she was being earnest or poking at his upper class armor. But without knowing one way or another he had no choice but to err on the positive side - we was a merchant Prince after all and one does not burn one's bridges without a very good reason.

Something his apprentices were still learning.

"Are They now ..."

The haughty merchant did take in Keiko's words looking over the Forest Folk as they finished their day's training. His gaze fell mostly on the Lill'uns, the Mice and rats and then to the two adopted-sisters that stood in Lady's place.

"A treasure you say."

It was an odd speculation; and one that was not comfortable. As if he was trying to set a value upon them, just like one might a fancy table, a pretty tin candle lamp or a horse."

"Perhaps you are right. We are all created for a Reason. One wonders what theirs might turn out to be."

And then Lyric spoke.

And suddenly the Minstrel was the center of the Prince's attention. Oh he did listen. He did listen, cold, as if some whelp of a puppy had dared try to take a hunk of flesh from his leg, like a elder looking down at a dagger that had been thrust into his well fed gullet - but not with shock or surprise, but of cold fury that someone could speak so ill, be so ill behaved in his presence.

He listened to the tirade, each and every word, until Lyric had said her last, as if he were simply waiting, simply letting her expend her vehemence.

Then he drew himself up.

"Oh perhaps you do know of What You Speak, oh Well Spoke Weaver of Tale.

"And Perhaps I should heed your Dire Warning.

"If the Dirkwood Forest is still cursed, irrefutably so, and worse, so very very very dangerous ..."

The corners of his lips rose, the smallest dark smile.

"You did say the Forest was dangerous. And you ..."

He nodded to Keiko.

"That even if the Curse is Not Eastern, It Is Still a Curse."

He turned on his heel, to take a harsh step away, bound for his caravan.

"Then one can only presume that the Forest's Children share that Curse, and while they may no longer be abominations, they are still Creatures of the Dark. Are they capable of Redemption?

"There is a difference between your tales and mine, follower of spirits. Yours make people smile around a campfire. But on the morrow, folks go on their staid, normal, traditional, lawful day by day. The news I trade? It is heard in the Courts and the Churches. And those words become the basis for action.

"I am sure ..."

With a dashing of his cloak and an arrogant stalk, the Merchant Prince let his last words echo over his shoulder as he made his way down the stairs.

"... there will be Those who will wish to ensure that redemption is Properly Earned."

Down the stairs he stormed. past the silent guardian - Broke in her travel cloak, her darksteel blade still in its scabbard, hung over her shoulder. She let him past without a word. The Merchant prince just snorted - discounting the non-action as a sign of weakness. But those who had fought by Broke's side knew different. He had only spoken words. He had not broken the One Rule. And her sharp ears had, certainly, heard everything.

He stormed further down the stairs.

Passing another person, a handful or two of steps up from path side landing. No one had seen this person before - in fact if they had been noticed it would have been hard to distinguish her from one of the Forest Folk. She too wore a long hooded cloak. Now she was tall, lightly framed, and definitely of the female persuasion. But she did not move as fast as the Merchant Prince or any of them to tell the truth - meaning she was quite probably older. The cloak looked warm and comfortable, definitely Kiekegaard made, with the hood, collar and hem trimmed with black and white merebeast fur.

Definitely worth more than a few coin.

The old woman hesitated a bit, before moving to the side.

And when he past, all of a sudden the Merchant Prince stumbled. Off balance he fell forward, arms suddenly flailing like windmill vanes as her tried to regain his balance. His legs were obviously tangled in his tunic skirts as he found himself falling, falling forward down the rock steps in a tumble, finally coming to a twisted, bone snapping crunch.

Broke looked down, hood tilting.

The One Rule still hadn't been violated.

The wuff just snorted.

The old woman looked up and also tilted her head, perfectly matching Broke's motion as she spoke a single word.

"Whippersnapper."





*posted from work*

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Keiko
[pronounced KAY-ko... do you think the GM has memorized this yet?]

Every single lesson she ever learned from Uncle Toshi allowed Keiko to keep her expression neutral when the Merchant Priest responded to her, but a trickle of sweat down her spine betrayed — to her, at least — the fear she felt for her friends from the Forest at the Marrennen’s veiled threat.

All that few from the proverbial trees like a flock on the wing when he threatened Lyric. She stepped closer to her friend as he stormed away.

“I fear you have made a powerful enemy today, Friend Lyric,” she whispered.

The next few moments seemed to slow to the extent that a single breath could not have been taken even if she was not holding her breath. She was too far away to hear the bones snapping... wasn’t she? It was just her imagination, that sickening crunch that heralded a lasting reminder of the injury...

Or something even worse. Rumors said that the Atteran Healers could bring people back from the dead, and if anyone could do it, well, it would be Lady Bekkah. Still. It was just a rumor.

She spun on her heal and turned to the Healer. “Hurry, Lady Bekkah! He might be a threat to my friend, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to... to die.” Violet eyes showed the full force of her fear. Keiko wasn’t afraid to let Bekkah see that. Nor was she worried about allowing Lyric and Cesare see it either.

“Please. Hurry.”


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Lyric, after speaking to the 'None so Blind'

With all the presumptions and assumptions being made, the Merchant man, who carried himself like a Lordly fellow, spoke as if his words alone made things fact. But his ill-considered reasoning was backed and bolstered by arrogance and pride and that made him dangerous.

She nodded solemnly at Keiko's verbalized prediction. "He is not the first to stake that claim" she said sadly. "But I take no pride in it either."

What tone and temperament he might have taken from her pointed tale of warning and caution was his own business and she might have told him as much,but it was never her intent to trade jibes, barbs, and witticisms, let alone argue with the man. He voiced assumptions about her and that colored his interpretation of the merit of her words.

But, the greatest butchery of good common sense was the predetermined intention to find a way to enter that forest to circumvent the restrictive trade compact imposed by Dominic. And he now seemed determined to harness the Forest Folk to his desires and greed as if this word Redemption should matter a wit to anyone but himself.

Besides, who was he to determine what price anyone should pay for the Gift of Acceptance or Redemption as measured by his interpretation of their sins, especially when his motive for levying such a price to be paid was his own personal avarice.

But, if he was truthful in that people would listen to him, and that his words carried weight in places where decisions were made, then the hearts of those who listened to him would be weighed on a balance that measured self-interest against common sense.

Of the things related to the Dirkwood, this man obviously knew very little. That didn't stop him from proclaiming his assumptions as fact though. But whispering his poisonous words into the ears of others in 'places where decisions were made' could harm the Forest Folk gravely, and cost the lives of many others who would be bound to serve the will of coming storm of greed. What right did he have to determine that anyone owed anything? In fact, an Imperial Goddess had granted the forest folk souls, and gave them freedom to choose their own path of faith. But, if this man was not a follower of these Imperial Deities, then what right did he have to interpret the will of Lady Attera? Would that not be a kind of heresy in and of itself?

These were questions she could not answer herself, mostly for the reasons she believed the Marrennen should not be trying to answer them. She was not a follower of his pagan deity, nor Bekkah's Imperial one, or any other Imperial Deity. But she was a believer. And with that came the respect that counseled her wisdom on such things.

These thoughts were a jumbled in her mind, a place used to thoughts being jumbled, but it occupied her attention long enough to miss the man's untimely fall down the steps. Only when Keiko's urgent plea for the Priestess to give aid broke Lyric's musings did she look toward the scene of calamity.

The minstrel steepled her fingers in front of her mouth and with wide eyes, she commented, "Oh My... that must have hurt..."

There was no malice in her tone, but it wasn't nearly as plaintive as the words from Keiko either. Perhaps concern filtered through her own, well reasoned, assumption.

But it was the newcomer, the old woman on the steps, approaching them from below, who drew Lyric's attention. She felt the urge to look away and distance herself from the woman's impending attention. It was just a feeling though... Maybe a nod toward a well developed sense of self preservation at work... Or not. It was Lyric, after all.

Lyric is Lyric is Lyric, or so a friend has told her.


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Cesare

He watches the merchant leave in grand dudgeon and his eyebrows rise.

**This is not going to end well..**

And then the crunch. The eyebrows rise further. Well, he has never had any prediction come so true and so quickly but he cannot feel much sympathy for the man.

However he is ready to escort Bekkah down the stairs.

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Bekkah

She had been surprised by Lyric's words, they'd come so unexpectedly. She had agreed with everything she said, it just wasn't in her to speak like that. His reaction had been a bit surprising, but not terribly. She immediately wondered if she shouldn't leave here and spread the word ahead of him to undo any poison he could spread to the ears of those in power.

Then he stormed off before she could try and stop him. She watched him go silently thinking through what she should do next for she would not simply let him attack these fine folk. And then seemingly as if in a dream, she watched his horrific tumble down the stone steps. Before he'd even hit the bottom, she hiked up her skirts and started down after him, knowing that he was going to be hurt and that she could aid him. Her Lady's blessings were for all people and even the likes of him were no exception.

She made her way to his side, feeling for life in his body, knowing almost instinctively that she wasn't going to find any. She'd been trained for something like this, but she'd never actually restored a spirit to its body. She knew that she had to repair the damage sufficiently that had caused his spirit to leave. Then she would have to perform the resurrection.

*First things first* she thought as she examined his wounds.

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Grumpy Old Woman

As Bekkah hurried down the stairs to attend to the Marrennen priest, the hood of the old woman’s cloak tilted slightly in the healer’s direction.

“It seems that you've finally grown up, youngster.”

While it was impossible to say for certain, the figure gave the impression of dismissing from consideration anyone who followed her and, as the hood tilted upward slightly, dismissed those who remained near the Millers’ home as well before giving her attention back to the Guardian.


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Keiko
[pronounced KAY-ko... do you think the GM has memorized this yet?]

She watched as Cesare followed Bekkah down the stairs to help the Marrennen. The glance from the stranger stopped her from trailing along after them.

Well, that and the fact that Lyric seemed a little nervous, too. Wary? Certainly not fearful! But whatever held Lyric in place was probably beyond her ken. Lyric was definitely an odd one, but still — Lyric was Lyric was Lyric, and on top of that, she was Keiko’s friend.

“Maybe he cracked his head and was knocked unconscious, so he didn’t have time to realize that...” Keiko gestured to the man on the ground. “...really, really hurt.” She looked at Lyric and shrugged. “Probably not. But as awful a person as he might be, he probably doesn’t deserve that kind of pain.”

The Rhoni was hedging her bets on that last bit, of course. Maybe he did deserve it. Her mother would be dreadfully disappointed with her and that kind of attitude, but the rest of the Family would understand. It wasn’t that she had wished the man ill. But it was hard to mourn his misfortune after he’d threatened her friends.

The old woman seemed to be having a staring contest with Broke, but really? They both had their hoods up, and one just couldn’t guess what held either one’s attention.

“That’s a cloak from the Kierkegaard lands,” she whispered to Lyric. “Some of the warmest cloaks from either end of the Black Mountains, and they’re worth every penny the merchants ask for them. Well, honest merchants, anyway. She must have a friend or family member or benefactor who’s at least marginally wealthy.”

Keiko bit her lip again, debating with herself; she glanced up to the dormer window and smiled at Tomomi before giving her attention back to the Market... the tableau along the stairs... and then to Lyric.

“It would be polite to inquire of our guest if we could offer her food or water. Surely, she’s had at least a half day’s journey, nin?” Holding out a hand to Lyric, she asked, “Come with me?”


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Cesare

He followed Bekkah, running lightly down the steps. His thoughts are not so much for the man but for the reaction of his people and he wasn't about to let Bekkah face that alone, if indeed it occurred. So he stands just to the side, taking care not to interfere as Bekkah does her magical healing. It could of course be a lost cause but he is not close enough to tell. Certainly serious at the least.

He remembers the numerous times that Bekkah has healed him. The soft touch, the flood of tender power, the ease of hurt. He would probably not be here now if not for her. And he almost feels again the gash across his stomach that occurred in another forest far from here. The shock he had felt, the pain he experienced and then the relief as Bekkah healed him. He owes her much.

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Lyric, on the virtues of being wary.

Speculation about the Merchant Lord drifted in the air without comment from Lyric. She watched the old woman, trying not to be conspicuous about it.

Keiko spoke of things which Lyric didn't understand completely. The cloak was from the lands of a Keer Ka Guard? The old woman did not carry herself as though she were a guard, but it might not mean she wasn't, now or in the past. Still her sudden arrival, seemingly so to Lyric, was not a coincidence. Lyric didn't believe in such things. Fate and Circumstance, yes. Magic and Divine intervention, absolutely... but not coincidence. Things happened for a reason, because people did other things, elsewhere, and things happened because of that, in other places. Just because you don't see those other things doesn't make the things you see a coincidence.

So yes, the woman's appearance made the Minstrel wary.

It also presented her with a dilemma. She now had questions. Her understanding of the wider geography of the land was limited. She had heard of Black Mountains and the East, and Talantal, and some other places as well, but she had never been anywhere in the world before this journey and so she had little frame of reference for the importance of what Keiko was trying to intimate about the woman's garment.

But, if she asked her questions, Keiko might see her for an ignorant fraud. How could a true and traveled Minstrel not know such simple things? Yes, she came from a remote place that shunned outsiders and had little contact with anyone but themselves... But her liabilities to her friends and companions in such matters worried her now. They would soon set out on a new journey, maybe to find this Dawnview Vale place, and Lyric would have little in the way of knowledge or Lore to contribute.

Lyric glanced out across the lands to the east and, from the current elevation, she had a pretty good view to the horizon.

"Those mountains must be very far away," she noted quietly. "A very long journey to come here... and yet, for how long has she traveled wearing a cloak that is too warm for the journey?" The question was simple on the surface, maybe even naive, but Lyric accepted that the autumnal weather was cool by some standards though she still dressed lightly herself. And she accepted that the woman might not have worn the cloak the whole time either. The implied truth in Lyric's questioning comment was more about the importance of the woman's presence coming here from a place with Black Mountains. The woman's arrival was a portent of something as yet unknown to the Minstrel.

It was an idle question though, one that only further piqued her wariness, and did little to ease her concern.

"Of course, I will join you. It would be rude not to greet her. We might be able to make ourselves useful and guide her to those she came to meet and thus not stand here looking doltish at the Merchant's misfortune..."

If that is what it truly was. After all, Coincidence was just a word used by those who didn't see the interwoven threads that bound all things together.

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Keiko
[pronounced KAY-ko... do you think the GM has memorized this yet?]

She watched her friend, and she watched confusion and uncertainty flicker in her friend’s eyes. It was the slightest of things for Lyric was good at keeping things hidden. But Keiko was good at seeing even hidden things — a Card Reader needed be observant. Although she might still be young and not nearly as good as her elders at interpreting the true intent of a question for the Cards, she would not have been able to complete her full Deck without being quite skillful. And Lyric was her friend, so that flicker of doubt squeezed at the young Rhoni’s heart. The outstretched hand easily rolled over so she could lay her hand on Lyric’s arm as she smiled.

“I forget that you truly do come from a small and far away and unknown place. One moment you are the wisest person in a day’s walk and then the simple things that any Traveler knows — like mountains and cloaks and anything else that’s as much a part of my world as air and earth — confuse you. Don’t worry, Lyric! I know you’re from a place that’s isolated and don’t know everything! I’ve traveled all my life, and I certainly don’t know everything.

“We don’t need to know everything. That’s why we Walk the World, don’t you see?”

Keiko leaned closer and whispered, “It’s okay to ask silly questions. Because if you don’t know something, it can’t really be a silly question, can it?”

The Rhoni nodded once, an emphatic punctuation to her own question.

“Yes, the mountains are far away.” She held one arm out, almost as though she was circling someone’s waist, and touched a finger to a spot just above her elbow.

“If we are here and were to follow the path I took to Waverider’s Watch...” She tapped her fingers along her arm to the tips of her other fingers as she spoke. “...we can travel the Rhoni Road along the Forest’s edge and come to the sad little village of Brementown. It is a journey that takes many, many days — nearly two full months.” Then she flattened the curve of her arm and brushed her hand back up toward her elbow. “There is a road here between the Forest and the Black Mountains known as the Road East. The mountains reach all the way to the Sea of Pearls,” she said, waving her hand near her shoulder. “The Imperial city of Trundle is at the end of the Road East, but beyond it — deep in the mountains...” She waved her hand in a ‘shooing’ motion, away from her elbow. “...are the Eastern cities of Kh’Lhy’Ra and Thah’am and Gh’orre, but I have only been to Kh’Lhy’Ra. The old city of King Yrick, Caer Maeyin, is supposed to be along the coastal pass, too.”

Then she pointed to a spot beyond Lyric’s shoulder. “Dawnview Vale is the same distance south of Brementown as Trundle-on-the-Hill is north, maybe even a little more. And the Black Mountains stretch the whole distance! Oh, my, and it gets so cold in the mountains in the Storm Season! Even in the warmest times of the year, it can get cold at night. Mountains are tricky like that.

“Now, the southern road is called the Highgaard Path.” She tapped her elbow and then a spot maybe three finger widths toward her wrist. “From Brementown, one would go to Cragside. It’s a trading town, but much smaller than Bordertown. Moving up through the Highgaard Reaches, there is the Noble Family Kierkegaard and their vassals. I haven’t learned what all their names mean, but it does sound like they might have once been guards of some sort, ja? But now it’s just a name, although an important one.”

Keiko bent her wrist back as far as she could, keeping her fingers straight except for the very tips, then tapped near the sharp angle on her outer wrist.

“Lilia’s Castle is about here on the road. I don’t know who Lilia was or why she had a castle, but that’s where the great hospice for training healers like Lady Bekkah is located.” She touched the heel of her hand and brushed her fingers away from it toward her chest. “The Noble Family Corliss has their keep and their manors here.” Then she slid her fingers along the edge of the opposite thumb. “This would be Snowgate Pass, and Snowgate Keep,” she said, wiggling the tip of her thumb. “Glacier Keep...” A tap on the second knuckles of her fingers. “...and finally Dawnview Castle and the Temple of the Dayalans are at the far end of the Vale.” She touched the tip of her longest finger and then grinned at Lyric.

“That’s how the Rhoni learn where places are and how to find them. It’s not a secret that I shouldn’t tell because if it were, well, I wouldn’t tell you. I’m glad I can tell you because you’re my friend. Most Gaija — they are people who aren’t Rhoni — think it’s a silly way to explain how to get from one place to another place, but it works for us. And you are Lyric, the Minstrel Who Thinks Unlike Any Other. So you might find it a little helpful.

“And it shows just how grand and imposing the Black Mountains are!” she said, spreading her arms wide. Then she reached her arms forward, as though trying to touch something just out of her reach. “Beyond the Black Mountains are the Cold Wastes that go on and on to the edge of the world. I’ve never heard of anyone going there.

“I don’t know anyone who has been everywhere. The world is very big!”

Keiko laughed as she felt herself being hugged by a Mouse.

“Not big. What’s bigger than big, Keiko?”

She looked at her Forever Friend, pausing as she pursed her lips. “Osheeshee’okhanee’rahrahmanee... Umm... Jeesha’tsahlee’sheeshah? That means nearly the biggest of almost all big things.” Keiko shrugged. “Sometimes, Eastern and Colonial don’t mix very well.” She giggled. “But it sounds so pretty and if I said what all the little bits mean it would diminish such a beautiful word!

“Come! Let’s offer our kindness to another traveler, for we have kindness to share, don’t we?”

Tomomi’s hood bobbed up and down as she nodded enthusiastically.

Keiko wrapped one hand around Tomomi’s long, slender fingers and entwined her other fingers with Lyric’s, and thus two young women and a Mouse walked down toward their Guardian friend and the traveler.

Tomomi was, as ever, shy in front of this new person. And Keiko sensed that Lyric was still... apprehensive? Well, perhaps she was only uneasy about a stranger arriving with no notice, no warning, and that was indeed an excellent way to be... especially with Keiko being raised as a friendly and outgoing person.

“Mistress Traveler, may we offer you food or drink after your journey? Even a journey of half a day can whet an appetite and kindle a thirst.”


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Lyric, with a unique view to the world

"We have not been friends for so very long, even though to me it is probably the longest friendship I have ever had... but still, be patient, for I have many more questions I am sure..."

"...and there are still plenty of chances for them to be silly."

Lyric watched and listened to Keiko describe the Heartwood on the length of her slender arm.

"Yes, the path along the edge Great Forest. I travelled it as well," she interjected. "But I never saw any towns along the way though, so..."

She shrugged and nodded in acceptance of the realization. "...that means I must have found the path heading westerly after this town you mention. No towns, Only the Squire, who was riding a horse that liked apples. I liked apples too I learned. And Sinno-mahn bread too."

Keiko mentioned many places by name, places along the way to this Dawnview Vale. Lyric had never heard of any of them though and some of the names were confusing for her. Names of places or people often were confusing though, because there was no translation for them. Her command of the Colonial language was usually good enough for most conversations that didn't have complicated words meaning complicated things. And, when all else failed, she could fake her way through her limitations... but Names were hard. Accepting that something was a name allowed her to simply mimic the sounds, despite not having any frame of reference for the place mentioned. Keiko was right though, Lyric now Walked the World and would learn everything she could.

Lyric's last response, after Keiko mentioned she knew of no one who has traveled everywhere and that the world was very big, was nearly lost in the moment where Tomomi hugged the Rhoni girl.

"I will learn," she promised her tutor. "...and, I am grateful."

She fell in behind Keiko and Tomomi on the narrow path of steps and met the old woman with a welcoming smile.

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Grumpy Old Woman

The movement of her cloak’s hood showed that the old woman was equally as interested in the Rhoni’s gesticulations as she was in observing the Guardian. Each of the persons coming down the stairs was subjected to the type of regard Keiko had quickly become accustomed to by the Forest Folk — features hidden in shadows but no doubt as to where the woman’s attention focused. It’s possible that Lyric received slightly more scrutiny. But it was also possible that Tomomi received a more significant share of the woman’s concentration.

“Give me your hand,” she demanded of the Rhoni and then muttered something that could have been cobble blocks when Keiko hesitated. However, when the girl extended her hand — and after a slap to get her to relax it — she gently formed it into a loose fist. Then she flicked four spots on the girl’s hand, hard enough that she wouldn’t soon forget.

“Snowgate. Glacier. Dawnview. Temple.” And then she tapped a fifth point, adding “Sapphire Lake” before letting go of the Rhoni’s wrist.

The exercise made some things quite clear, the most obvious being that she was strong — these were the calloused hands of a woman who worked every day and the grip on Keiko’s wrist would have been awkward to escape. But it left open to speculation nearly everything else, for her voice was so featureless that there was no accent at all to place her. Did her correction of Keiko’s geography of Dawnview Vale come from first-hand knowledge or was it something she, too, had been taught? Why was it important to correct the Rhoni here and now? Frankly, the lesson raised more questions than it provided answers.

Then she looked at Broke. “Didn’t that pesky lordling of yours tell her not to speak Eastern?”


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Lyric, too close for comfort

If only Keiko knew the unease that her friend, the Minstrel, felt as she followed Rhoni and Mouse footsteps down the stairs to greet the heavily cloaked old woman.

But Lyric couldn't decipher the reasoning for her quiet apprehension. And so she followed out of courtesy and politeness. A friend asked and she obliged. The Minstrel was a performer though and she worked hard to conceal the unease, not just from her friends, but from the potential attention of the old woman herself.



Often enough her size helped her avoid notice in public settings, but there was not a woman among her companions much taller, if not shorter, than she. Finding cover behind her companions would only make herself more obvious.

She listened and watched but said nothing.

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The Heartwood
The Dirkwood Forest
Waverider’s Watch
Marketday, the Ninth Day of Yrick


Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … Tomomi, a Marrennen Merchant Prince and a Grumpy Old Woman.

"Whuff ..."

The tall black guardian looked down at the tableau forming below her. A new comer to the Village and the Forest Folk's heroes clambering about. The one thing that set Broke apart from their equally inscrutable visitor was that her dark fur meant that the visage beneath her hood was nothing shadow. That she was watching the newcomer intently was as obvious as the newcomer's gaze upon her. Broke stillness also reflected another piece of knowledge.

She knew exactly upon whom One-Fang was now focused. It was a pack thing.

At the base of the stairs Bekkah had her work set out for her. The fall hadn't killed the merchant but the tumble had definitely snapped both his legs. One hurt was minor. The other leg had pieces of bone poking through the skin, like bloodied bits of shattered kindling. It was providence then, that the fall had also knocked both wind and sense from the troublesome merchant. He wasn't dead but he was very definitely unconscious. Bekkah's most simple magics could staunch the blood, set the legs, and ensure his survival. But waking him up might not be the wisest thing - which meant he would need help getting him back to his caravan.

Meanwhile lessons in geography - between Lyric, Keiko, Tomomi and the stranger - came to a close, but that still left one question unanswered.

Broke considered the old woman for a bit longer before she simply shrugged her shoulders.

"Bein' told somthin' and listenin' to it are two very diferent things, ja?"

It was a simple observation, nothing more, nothing less. Her words were laced with her gruff accent, dropping her "l"s and rolling her "r"s.

"If'n you want to ask him about it, he's atop the stone hiding from yon merchant."

The Guardian's hood tilted.

"Now I ain't sayin' he didn't deserve it, but that was a bloody hard cuffin' you gave him, Gramma."




* posted from work *

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Bekkah

The lady in white was oblivious to the stares and curious looks around her. All she was concerned about was helping this man recover. Pulling up the leg of his trousers revealed the worst of the injury. There was no blanching or look of revulsion, she simply inspected what was before her.

"My Lady, I beseech you for your power once again as this man is in need." she said, her hands glowing with a soft light, which seemed to flow from her into the man's leg. The bleeding stopped and the bones knit together properly, followed by the closing of his skin over the newly healed wound. He would still have a headache probably and he was resting unconscious for now, which would keep him from making it worse."

When she was done, she looked at the others around her. "Could a pair of you gently carry this man back to his caravan? I will accompany you so that they understand what has happened."

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Grumpy Old Woman

She pushed back her hood to reveal what might be considered a contradiction: raven black shoulder length hair with nary a hint of silver framing a face weathered and lined by enough years that Broke’s naming her ‘Gramma’ could well be true. Her features were thin and hawkish, leaving her with an almost permanent grimace of disapproval. If she smiled, the impression might be different. However, her expression remained neutral.

She did something else that the villagers and Keiko would find outrageous. She looked directly at Broke’s face — or rather, the shadow in the Guardian’s hood where her face would be.

“It would be interesting to discover the Pest’s thoughts on the matter, but that presupposes the lad could remain close enough to the truth long enough to express those thoughts.”

Deep brown eyes studied Broke for a moment before nodding once.

“It is as you say. Telling and listening do not always go hand in glove.” Her eyes flickered to the Rhoni for a heartbeat. “Showing and listening are often more effective.”

Again, the questions stacked up. Did she mean her demonstration of geography for Keiko? Or was it a threat? Most telling, perhaps, was the fact that she ignored Broke’s comment about the cuffing of the Marrennen.

Or did she?


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Cesare

"Interesting to see that healing from close by without the distraction of a lot of pain."

He grins at Bekkah and then nods.

"I'd be happy to take one end of the patient.. or maybe take him over the shoulder. I'm stronger than I look."

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Bekkah

She considered his offer, then gave him a nod and just the slightest of smiles.

"That will work. He isn't going to awaken soon and you won't undo what my Lady has done. Let us go. And if need be, I can help as well, I'm not as frail as some seem to believe."

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Cesare

"Not at all frail.. but a lady in the nicest way."

He looks at the man sizing up the problem.

"Perhaps if you could assist in getting him in place?"

He starts to haul the man into an approximate standing position holding him in place as best he can.

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Keiko
[pronounced KAY-ko... do you think the GM has memorized this yet?]

She opened her mouth to speak, to explain, and then remembered...

Her grandmothers.

The elders.

Renyard.

Lessons were everywhere. The Marrennen being cared for by the Lady Bekkah was one such lesson, arranged by this traveler — or so Broke seemed to believe. Keiko had thought Dommi’s teaching had been meant for use beyond the borders of this small fiefdom of his. But had he intended something even more constrictive? Not to speak a language she had spoken since she could first talk? A language she had learned side by side with the Imperial Colonial speech? It was like asking her to breathe in an entirely different way.

All the time.

Violet eyes darkened and hardened as she studied the traveler.

Keiko was Keiko was Keiko!

But hadn’t the elders sent her out to Walk the World with words that had hurt more than this?

Keiko was Keiko.

Was the world so dangerous without her Family around her that this, too, must be taken from her? Was Keiko just... Keiko?

She lifted her chin, not in defiance but with dignity. She was Keiko of the Family Nakano! She was the daughter of Chiyo, granddaughter of Masuyo, great-granddaughter of Tsukiko, great-great-granddaughter of Chouko, of the line of Hoshiko Nakano. She was the Card Reader Who Had Touched Dragon’s Blood!

“Very well, Oma,” she said, deliberately using the Forestalk world for Grandmother rather than the formal Eastern Bashbah'shasheekee. “I hear your words, and I listen.”

And then Keiko smiled in a way she had not done so since leaving the Caravan, since the last town where she had Read the Cards for the Gaija. It was a smile for a Mark — but with a tilt of the head that acknowledged that the old woman was not fooled by it. It was not a smile of friendship as much as it was a smile of...

Respect. Recognition of the Teacher.

This, too, was something new at Waverider’s Watch, at least for Keiko. Friendship and respect wove themselves together naturally for her. But not in the case of the old woman. There was no friendship to be had there. There was only respect.

“The offer remains, Oma,” the Rhoni said politely, emphasizing the lesson learned, before glancing down at the market. “If you desire food or drink, Missus Heatherson has meat pies remaining. I would recommend one, as it is impossible to find any as delicious anywhere I have visited.”

Keiko returned her gaze to the old woman. Her intention was twofold: First, fulfill her offer of hospitality. Second?

Well, that would be simply be sparing Lyric the woman’s attention — as much as possible, at least — for her friend still seemed unnerved by the traveler.


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