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Celi with Darian, Longtooth and Mikal

Common Room


Celi frowned at the sudden chill in the conversation's tone. She started to inquire, then abruptly, she had an epiphany. "Ah. Yes. I ... umm ... please forgive me. I meant no harm. I just ..."

She pursed her lips in a moue of clear self-disapproval. "I am so terrible at conversation. I am just so used to being alone. When I am with someone, I tend to speak before I ..."

She shivered, stood straight. "I apologize. Clearly I was mistaken, and I will refrain from discussing things about which I am in ignorance."

She turned and locked gazes with Longtooth, crouching so that he did not have to strain to look her in the eye. "And allow me to apologize to you as well."

She didn't thrust out a hand, or make any other "friendly" gestures, but she tried to put herself in a place where she was as open, honest and receptive as she could be, and let Longtooth make his own decision.




.

The Heartwood
Between Dusk and Dawn, the Town of Cragside
Marketday
The Twenty-Fourth Day of the Month of Raven, 2623

Kadri, Daxia and Mikal

Three horses clipclopped down the cobbles, following Kadri who seemed to be the littlest bit familiar with this tavern. Their path slipped downdown a far alley, the last of Daxia's star casting soft blue shadows ahead of them through the rain. Then all it took was a lifting of the simple iron latch and a pull upon the dark metal handle to draw the double doors wide open.

Inside; warmth, the gentle illumination of a single punched tin lamp, mounted both high and very securely to heavy timber post. That and whuffle of horses, the stamp of hooves, the frosting of warm breath upon the cool air.

And not just a few horses. A whole lot of horses. A whole lot of horses, all with a grey starburst splashed upon their necks.

A stable full of horses. Horses everywhere; many stalls holding more than one.

It slowly became apparent, as Kadri, Mikal and Daxia snapped cross ties into bridles, out in the wide aisle. As they brushed off the water, brushed down their horses, shed saddle and blanket, hung them off to dry upon the angled wooden braces where beam and column met.

From the tackroom came the sound of a yawn, a tumble and the rustle of cloth being straightened out. Bleary eyed a young lad, most probably the night time stablehand, looked out into the aisle.

"Hey there who are yah ... we are closed for the ... oh ... is that ... is that you Miss Kadri?"

The lad winced.

"I forgot you had a stall from Ma'am Kelleni. These your friends? And you are? Expecting me too? Tcha!

"Sweet sugar in the mornin' ... aye, aye , aye ... I guess I'll find somewhere for them."

He patiently waited, until the horses were all taken care of. Then he gathered up the reins of each.

"I'll get them watered and fed. Oats too. No room, no space, no stalls, but lots and lots and lots and lots of oats ..."

Which left the three the short walk out the other side of the aisle, beneath the covered walk behind a very very warm and spice scented kitchen - good enough to rumble tummies - and then through the next door and into the commons.

<continued>

The Heartwood
Between Dusk and Dawn, the Town of Cragside
Marketday
The Twenty-Fourth Day of the Month of Raven, 2623

Cesare, Darian, Celi, Comfrey, Camelia and Conrad ... and then Daxia, Kadri and Mikal

<continuing>

Cesare was the first to enter the Hart and Horse.

Followed by Darian and Celi, who were in turned followed by the Imperial cadre; Conrad, Comfrey and Camelia.

It was a different world; or at least one far far removed from stormy trail. it was bright, it was warm, it was a cacaphony. The tavern was more than crowded, it was bustling. The tables and benches were all full, bits and pieces of conversation racing around the room like a ball of yarn after a baby slink had gotten to it. And it was a rough bunch it seemed. The laughter was hard, every now and then a word accented by a first on a table, a punch to the shoulder, sentence fragments highlighted by more than a few expletives. And the swords; while no armor can be seen - well perhaps the smallest hint of riveted leather here, a flash of steel there - almost to a man each had a sword hanging from a second wide leather belt. They also seemed to be a common theme in surcoats, white and grey appearing more often than could be explained by coincidence. Except of course by the serving girls in their warm full tunics; from good wife to good daughter; there was even what looked to be some farmer's daughter back by the far hearth.

The fire was warm, it crackled and dance, the best thing being that there were two of them. One was right near the entrance, a and massive block of field stone masonry. Behind it, immediately to the right, there was a set of stairs leading upwards, obviously up to where the tavern's room for rent were. The other was opposite the long commons hall, the twin to the first, even to the big black iron stew pot bubbling inside it.

It was almost impossible for Cesare to spy the innkeeper through the crowd, it did take a question to one of the lasses carrying a few too many wood and pewter goblets to nod him towards the bar. The barkeep was an older man, in a worn set of tunics and a leather apron. He looked tired, but happy, but how could he not be; stormy weather was always good for business.

When Cesare finally made it to the heavy wooden counter, to press himself between a merchant and short sturdy swordsman, he was met with a smile, a nod and a friendly,

"So what can I be getting you, mister?"

By then, Conrad and Camelia had drifted deeper into the commons, having passed beyond where Darian and Celi were in their tense conversation.

The big snarkhound wrinkled his nose at the conversation, looking into the room speculatively, scenting air. And yes, he does attract a fair amount of attention, true. However it is an attention that Darian recognizes; something vey natural. The attention any canine would get, having just come into a room ... being long haired and soaked to the bone ... and hasn't shook out yet.

About the time the huntress realized this, however, two things happened.

First, the three other traveller return, entering the commons from the side door. Just in time for Conrad to pass by them, the Squire bound for the stables. The door was almost, just almost, closed behind him.

And second ...

"Here luv, apple cider, mulled back in mom's kitchen ..."

A young lass, perhaps a whole fifteen summers, tried to hand Camelia a wooden mug with a warm beverage; deep brown and scented of cinnamon. Her smile was friendly, her words welcoming, in fact familiar.

" ... just like ... you ... like ... like ... like ... like ..."

Her words fell off in a broken stutter, as she realized she has made a mistake. She just looked at Camelia and blinked, once, twice ... her confusion getting a laugh from a near by swordsman until he too stopped short and did a double take. He nudged a companion's shoulder, pointing to the groups lost waif.

It was like a pebble thrown into the center of a pond, sending ripples across the surface.

One by one, there was a nudge, a turn, a tilt of head, the entire bar falling silent.

Each one, their attention focused upon a single person.

Camelia.

By the time half the commons had turned about, someone finally called out, a single words towards the other side of the room,

"CAPTAIN!"

The young woman who calls herself Camelia

In fact she loved the smell of cinnamon. It was exotic and it was the essence of the harvest time tastes and scents and it reminded her of Home. Home was a place she dearly longed for, dearly missed, and would do everything she could to get back there.

There were so many people and the noise and the laughter and the powerful smells of foods, besides just the cinnamon, had all conspired to drown her in a sensory overload. Comfrey just ahead of her, she couldn't help but nearly turn full around so that she could see everything as though this were an entirely new experience for her. Simple people, who worked hard and enjoyed themselves and the company of others like themselves. Gone were the seemingly endless games and machinations and the surreptitious glances from corners of rooms, or the calculated stares o'ertop raised glasses in false camraderie and kinship. It was all a new experience for her...

Each step took her deeper into a world so alien to her. She was eager to accept the mug from the overly busy serving woman, and with a wide-eyed smile of appreciation. But with her hand outstretched, the mug never made it to her for the woman froze, stammering, eyes meeting and Camelia counting the blinks as time became a tangible reality that she might have been able to touch in that moment. Everything slowed down for her, and she looked sidelong, first one way and then the other. Alone, even with Comfrey ahead of her and so close. Alone as the universe suddenly sped up and the sounds of the inn, momentarily muted in her mind, were suddenly rushing at her like a cyclone of cacophony, spiralling into an unnatural silence as all eyes fixed themselves upon her... and only her...

"Tcha," she mumbled, mostly to herself, sounding more like a hiss of escaping air.

And she was frozen in place, internally begging and praying to Gods she had heretofore only given lipservice, now suddenly in need of some divine providence and intervention.

Someone's voice shattered the unnatural and uneasy stillness. Camelia wanted to run, hide, but panic began to creep up on her and lock her body and freeze her muscles like some prey animal unable to escape its own moment of indecision.

Conrad

He stopped and reached back to prevent the door from closing as he heard the sudden silence and the call for the "captain" behind him. Conrad turned to look back in and see what was occuring, the hairs on the back of his neck stirring as a feeling of tension swept through the room.

Darian & Longtooth with Celi, common room ny the Main St fire place

She was accustomed to being around armed men, though not armed in this fashion. Still, each had carried a long dagger in addition to their bow. And the armor was different as well, rivets and ringmail did not lend themselves to the stealth required by a hunter. It seemed there was enough noise in the common room to have drowned out the girl's question about Longtooth. And for that she would bear the press of people.

It was, though, the sudden descent of near utter silence that caused a hand to drop to the hilt of her long dagger and wrap about it. Her bow would do no good here. Only the crackle of the two immense fires could be heard along with the occasional creak of leather as someone shifted. She tensed and looked into the crowd, relaxing only slightly when she noticed all their attention was on the one she had termed prey.

Then the shout for a Captain, and the girl looked more like prey now than she had before, like a hart caught unawares, rooted to the spot and the whites of its eyes showing. She eased back a half step, not wanting to venture back into the cold rainy night, but to do so if she must.

Cesare with the innkeper at the bar

He is already thinking ahead to a hot meal and an ale, a rare luxury but it seems appropriate to mark the beginning of a new chapter in his life. But first things first. Kadri says he has a room. Daxia may plan to sleep in the stables but he doesn't believe an innkeeper will look kindly on someone abusing his hospitality.

Still it is pleasant to be greeted in a friendly way. Not everyone was so enamoured of his kind but then at the moment he represents coin.

"What rooms do you have available and how much?"

He returns the smile, and then, always aware of what is going on around him, immediately picks up that the room is quietening rapidly. Something is going on. He looks back into the room to see what is going on.

Kadri, entering the bar:

Kadri enters, sniffing the air, and stretching slightly.

Home. Or as close to it as she comes right now. Almost relaxing.

And then, the silence and tensions explodes through the room - and then the call. She moves, finding a spot with good access to the door and crouching slightly, looking ready to move at a moments notice - fight or flight, as it were.

It shoudl be alright. She didn't know these people after all.

Celi
... with Darian and Longtooth (during the pregnant pause)
... in the Common Room

Celi felt a rush, first, of immense relief. It wasn't *Celi* drawing all the unwonted attention.

That was ... different. Pleasant, actually.

On the other hand, they *were* sort of a group. They had each other, and no one else.
So any threat to one of theirs, was a threat to all.

So maybe someone should distract them.

"Of whom might we inquire about rooms for the night?" she said, in a soft voice. WHile she had the chance to be heard.

Mikal

In the stables, it was good that the woman named 'Kadri', with whom he'd traveled, though had not had time in the weather to speak with, had some sort of connection to this place else he worried he'd have had to go elsewhere. He'd not put Talia outside in this weather unless he was on the road. He notes the starburst symbol on the other horses in the stables, and wonders why this group would be here?

He sees another woman, and hears the name Daxia once or twice attached to her, also currying her horse with he and Kadri, and he nods pleasantly to them both, but concentrates on his work. He wonders again about how many women he seems to have fallen in with. Before this, he could count the number of women he'd traveled with on less than two hands of fingers.

Once finished, he moves quickly to finally get inside. The smells of the kitchen are wonderful, but warmth and dry come first. He nods in passing to Conrad as the Squire heads back to the stables to take care of his mount.

Arriving at the main door, and passing thru, he finds himself entering unsurprisingly with Kadri and Daxia, and Lady Comfrey and Camelia just ahead. He can see Darian and Celi together a bit off to his right, and he pauses a moment, both to take in the welcome warmth and to scan the room for the innkeeper.

After the surprisingly overfull stables, he is not surprised at all to see the crowd of armed men inside the inn. He cannot see the man named Cesare, but in this crowd that's to be expected. He takes in the raucous laughter and boisterousness of the group, bringing back memories, but he has learned to always be wary around a group like this, especially when they are well into their cups, and especially this group.

So he pauses near the door, to better take in the scene, but still he is surprised when it is their 'waif' who seems to bring the room to silence. He unconsciously flicks his shoulder to free his cloak from his sword's sheath, but otherwise his eyes scan the room, looking for whoever will answer to the "Captain" call.

<Comfrey>

Well, this was odd. Recognition followed by an understanding that you'd made a mistake happened and people were generally fine with it. Stillness and stares, not so much. And a call for Captain, whomever that was, She took a more inclusive glance and her eyebrow raised slightly at the recognition of so many in the same attire.

She stepped closer to Camelia, perhaps in an attempt to shield her from the stares, perhaps to offer support and another person, perhaps merely to establish they were together. Looking at the eyes looking in their direction she said, "Lady's blessing on you this damp night," in the clear, calm tone Lady Artemesia so often used to good effect.

Daxia
at the entry from the stables
with Kadri and Mikel, in front of Conrad, near C Squared

The sudden silence was deafening as most eyes turned to the young woman with the Lady of Attera. Daxia, however, watched the watchers, particularly the many armed gray and white clad men; eyes searching for the one who would answer the call of 'Captain'. As Kadri moved back and closer to the door, Daxia moved up and a few steps to the side of Mikel. Under her cloak, her hand found the hilt of her sword, though she was not the least bit inclined to display the weapon in this room, with these men. Not yet; not unless it became necessary. Now was the time to watch, listen, learn.

The Heartwood
Between Dusk and Dawn, the Town of Cragside
Marketday
The Twenty-Fourth Day of the Month of Raven, 2623

Everybody

Even the barkeep falls quiet, his answer to Cesare not an answer to Cesare.

"Ut ...oh ..."

Heavy boots echoed upon the floorbboards from the far hearth. Accented by the jingle of spurs.

The crowd in the tavern parted, opening a path directly towards Camelia.

For their Captain.

It was the farmer's daughter.

Except no farmer's daughter bound her waist with two white leather belts; the second soundly functional, a long sword safe in its scabbard. Nor did many farmer's daughters wear such an equisite piece of jewelry as she did; a silver star pendant.



The tall woman 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 rested a hand upon the pommel of her dull black sword and with a shake of her head 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 white and black tunic. Simple, it was full skirted and quarter cut as any cavalryman's ... cavalry womans. The udertunic was a blue, to complement her eyes, the overtunic a light cream with hem and cuff and collar accented by a dashing sable key pattern.

Comfrey's words get an odd, poignant reply, " ... must be nice, lass."

However, she didn't stop until she was facing her prey, Camelia. Literally nose to nose. The only difference between the two women perhaps a few handful of years.

Her words were sharp, to the point and sure. One used to being obeyed. The tones of her voice ... oddly familiar.

"Sun and stars ... just who in the bloody woods are ..."

She then blinked, starts and stopped. She held up a hand to pause matters for a heartbeat.

"Wait."

She waved her hand back and forth, dismissing her previous words.

The swordswoman, the Wild Horde's Captain, took a step back, rested her hands on her hips, canted them, tilted her head and then very quietly, very sincerely, very earnestly asked the most important question in the world.

"Mom's alive?"

Mikal

His eyebrow rises. He was about to call out to Darian and Celi that it might be best for them to go find another inn, knowing the reputation of this group, when the image of Camelia appeared.

His hand stays near his sword, but a bit of the tension leaves his stance, to be replaced by curiosity. He glances at Camelia, waiting for her reaction.

Darian & Longtooth with Celi, inn common room, by main st fire place

The woman who was captain almost automatically had her respect. She was not prey. She strode with confidence, and Darian thought it highly unlikely the sword was mere decoration. She could be a worthy advesary or possibly ally. And as the swordswoman stopped in front of the one the other innkeep's girl child had found, the huntress looked for the first time closely at the waif's features.

Her eyes went from one to the other several times. The familial resemblance was unmistakable, unquestionable. As a matter of course, Darian did not intrude on other people's affairs, especially those not of her kind. But what was one to do when it was playing out before your very eyes. These two were undoubtedly of the same bloodline, yet so distinctly different.

There was aught to do but stand and watch.

Daxia
<near the entry from the stables
with Mikel, in front of Kadri and Conrad, near C Cubed>

At the sight of the Captain, Daxia relaxed and crossed her arms over her chest, allowing her cloak to open just a bit. "Hoi!" she muttered, perhaps loud enough for the Captain to hear... if her ears were sharp. The look on her face was part amusement, part annoyance.

[Camelia]

There were ten thousand upon another thousand things a person might think about during 6 handfuls of captivity. And Camelia was no different. She had to be brave, and she was. She had to perform and do her duty, and she did. She had to protect the only true friend she had ever known, and she would. She swore to that. If it meant she act like some wide-eyed doe in order to save her friend's life, then so be it. It was her life and her duty... and it was who she was. But still, a person can't help but wonder about the very nature of who they were when tested the way she was. She faced fears every day and struggled to take another step when she swore the last one was the final one. To keep alive for no other reeason then the belief that her mother understood what lie ahead of her and knew she could survive this ordeal.

To see yourself under the harshest of lights, thrust into the crucible of the self, gave a person a clarity and wisdom about life. She learned more about herself then she ever knew, but never could she have asked the questions of herself, nor anyone else for that matter, that might bring her to a moment where she stared face to face with herself.

It was a surreal experience as if looking into your future, sans the sword maybe, and the jangling boots, and the whole hip canting action. Okay, so staring at an alternate version of yourself, how life might have gone under different circumstance perhaps, was not something to be absorbed lightly like someone commenting on the weather or how many of the married Imperials at court actually had lovers. No, this was a moment where time lost meaning, and all sounds ceased to be important. A reflection without a mirror.

Camelia couldn't help but watch her every movement, eyes darting as she flashed a hand up and cut off her own words and thoughts. To stare at the silver pendant that hung about her neck, like the star upon the Imperial flag. The same? Different? Did that matter?

The eyes were her eyes, the mouth, her mouth, the hair... all of it... It was herself and yet not. Camelia wanted to pinch herself to make sure she was still awake and alive.

This person who was her spoke and asked questions, more out of surprise than anything else but it was just the tone that Camelia heard. The words themselves seemed to mean nothing. Even after the wave off gesture, still her words were soundless to Camelia.

"What?"

<Comfrey>

Well now, that's interesting. She looked between the two and stayed silent. There wasn't much else to do. Out of habit her eyes went across the rest of the inn before returning to Camelia and... her sister?

Cesare with the innkeeper

Well this is interesting. He recognises a few of those in the centre as some of the other group that had been involved in the alley incident. And a confrontation of what might be twins.. or sisters. There seems to be some age between them but that might be just down to how they lived.

Information is always valuable and he half turns back to the innkeeper.

"Who are they?"

He waves vaguely in the direction of the small group which has everyones focus.

"And would you be needing assistance if there is trouble?"

He is not offering out of generosity. There may be free board or some money in it. At worst a favour owed and that is often better than coin.

Conrad - by door to the stables

He moved back in a little to see if there was trouble brewing, the crowd in the inn having looked a bit rough for where he would normally bring two ladies. Perhaps it was Comfrey that was gathering the attention. Perhaps one of the sell swords had been injured and they suddenly saw a chance at safety for one of their own.

Whatever the reasons he might have imagined, none of them prepared him for the sight of a slightly older Cameila, sword at hip, coming over to confront the woman that he had accompanied from the inn down below.

His eyebrows rose in surprise and he halted, one hand still on the latch as Conrad paused to see what in the world was going on here.

Celi

Celi decided she didn't need to distract anyone, given the direction of the dialogue. There was plenty of distraction to go around.

She just needed to close her mouth, which she did, pushing up on her chin with one thumb and generating an audible clack.

Kadri near entry from stables

She looks over at the assembled. Then blinks. And blinks again.

She rolls her eyes upward as if looking at the sky and says, half under her breath. .

"You have a sick sense of humor sometimes. . . . tell me this is your sick sense of humor. .."

The Heartwood
Between Dusk and Dawn, the Town of Cragside
Marketday
The Twenty-Fourth Day of the Month of Raven, 2623

Everybody

The slender blonde blinked.

The other one.

As if the one word answer was the last thing she ever expected. The swordswoman drew herself up, took a half step forward and set her hands on the other woman's shoulders. Blue eyes locked with brilliant blue, a mirror between the two as the older one's hands turned into fists, each taking in a handful of cloak and tunic shoulder.

"First, stand up straight."

Her words are stern, commanding ... and yet not harsh. There's an amused warmth as she jerks her hands up, an emphasis to her words and to draw Camelia upwards.

"Second, wipe that look of a noble who just made a wrong turn into the Alley right off your face.

"You are better than that."

The older woman nodded once, long blonde locks cascading over her shoulders.

"We are never kicked puppies. We can be penniless and lost and it's still the world that has to look out for us. We fall and we get right back up again. So what if we come home battered and torn, we made it through another day and that means we won. Let other folks die for what ever cause or god they want, we go on because we got important things to live for. We talk back to the Regent, we call Velikii a traitorous bastard to his face because WE are the conscience of the Empire and it doesn't matter if they stripped us of rank, power and holdings because it doesn't change who we are.

"Someone's got to look out folks, because once you get past the Kierkegaards and the Allaines there's only us."

She takes a moment, straightening the collar of Camelia's cloak, adjusting its sturdy brooch.

"So I ask you once again.

"Is mom alive?

"Is Madoka kha'Ayanna kha'Kame kha'Chikato khal'Homura Akemi Koromov alive?"

The Heartwood
Between Dusk and Dawn, the Town of Cragside
Marketday
The Twenty-Fourth Day of the Month of Raven, 2623

Everybody

"That's ... that's Captain Koromov and these are her folks."

The barkeep's words to Cesare were quiet, as if careful to not disturb and with a chuff of breath he continued.

"Trouble? Lad, unless the Mark decides to come and bust up the place, next to the Keep and the Cathedral right now this is the safest place in Cragside.

"Even then I'd put my money on Koromov, Ironhand and the Horde."

A bit away, at the door that eventually leads to the stable, another question is answered.

A slice of the stormy wind dashes through the door, past Conrad, to tossle Kadri's hair.

A lot.

Kadri, at the door.

She chuckles and briefly - very briefly - sticks out her tongue for a moment at noone in particular.

Again, under her breath.

"Ok, ok. I get it. I get it. Only, at least as far as what is going on in front of me. . I really don't, you know."

She shrugs, and settles in to watch, chewing on a small strip of her jerky reflexively in thought.