DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Hall of Fame - Latest Top 10 completed games HWD: The Heartwood HWD: Lady Yuridotter’s Quest: Completed

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.

Broke gave the stranger a head tilted look, but she did not take down her hood in return. This was still Marketday, after all, and they were in Waverider's Watch and not the Forest or Home. This was a place, where, by rules and order, for them, their hoods stayed up.

"But then, Gramma, he wouldn't be the adorable scamp he is. He'd be someone else and I'd be down one best friend.

"That would make me grumpy.

"And no one likes it when I'm grumpy."

As for Bekkah and Cesare and their task, it was an excellent example of a task easier spoken of than accomplished. It wasn't that the Marrennen wasn't nicely pliable in his unconscious state. It was the fact that as a very successful Merchant Prince he was exceedingly well fed. It literally would take both Cesare and Bekkah to merchant-handle him and his girth up to a point where they could start hauling him towards his camp.

It was a slow hauling; step-drag, step-drag, step-drag towards the bridge, but on the bright side when the two got halfway across the bridge they were seen by the encampment on the other side. Two sturdy guards quickly came forward, followed by that particular apprentice.

"What happened? Is he going to be well?

"What did those ... animals ... do to him! Don't they realize what this means? Of course not!

"Come, come, let us get him to his wagon!"

Both questions and accusations would come from the apprentice. The guards would give the village quite a dark look. The wagon they took him to was the largest and finest in their caravan, of course. And while meant for just a days travel, they would arrange it with cloaks and blankets, pushing wares aside to provide a place to lay the Merchant Prince out somewhat comfortably.

"We thank you for caring for him ..."

Of course, that was the proper thing to offer and say. Both the guards and apprentice, however, were looking past Bekkah and Cesare and to the small village. Their expression was dark.

Back on the stairs, Lyric and Keiko remained, with the Old Woman still focused on the Forest Folk Guardian. Broke considered those on the stairs, before turning her attention, briefly, to the Rhoni. Broke's hood nodded when Keiko accepted the Old teacher's recommendation concerning languages.

"We are who we are, whether or not we wear our travel cloaks. A travel cloak does not and cannot change that.

"What the travel cloaks do, however, is keep us from being stabbed for just walking down the path.

"Remember what Lady said.

"We don't wear them for us. We wear our travel cloaks for Them."

Broke paused for but a moment. Her hood once again turned to bring her shadowed gaze back to the Old Woman.

"So.

"You aren't here for Our Lordling. I doubt those in the Tower have relatives from Dawnview Vale. And ja, so you are a tough, gruff and a bloody strict Gramma."

Broke had simply followed the rigorous chains of logic. The woman had shown no interest in speaking with Dominic, she knew the hand map of Dawnview Vale better than a Rhoni, she was so far ignoring an offer of Missus Heatherson's meat pies and Broke was pretty sure that the hard cuffing was meant for Broke to see. Showing and listening was better, ja? That left only one reason to climb these stairs.

"Whatcha want with me?"

Lyric

The Minstrel understood enough to know that being who she was and where she was from might cause her trouble. After all, the Imperials went to great lengths it seems to pacify the people of this land and place them under the scrutiny of the watchful attention of their Deities. To know that there were places untouched by the Bankorpool influence might be disconcerting to them.

But this old woman was not an Imperial. Lyric was partially mesmerized by the wisdom and the appearance of her visage and age. She must know a great many things and that gave Lyric the most pause. So, it was wariness that kept the Minstrel quiet and reserved in her proximity. She did not wish to turn proximity into presence. So long as her attention was focused on Keiko and Broke, Lyric could continue to silently observe the old woman without being overt or obvious. But, despite her calm and placid outward appearance, Lyric's fingers reflexively flexed, first tight then relaxed, slowly, over and over. Readiness and wariness, but she didn't know why she felt this way and that was a cause for concern. Perhaps, just instinct or a sense of self-preservation, or maybe it was the hearing of a number of tales brought back to her people by those few who did travel beyond the borders of their home.

That outward display was hidden from view as she stood behind friend Keiko, watching Broke face the Old Woman's attention, after Keiko had been admonished for speaking in a distant and apparently dangerous language. Lyric was very interested in the woman's answer.

Bekkah

She did her best to help Cesare, but she wasn't nearly as strong and the merchant hadn't missed any meals lately. She found she was out of breath when the guards came to help.

She followed them back to the encampment. When they laid him down, she examined him again. Then she turned to the group around, locking eyes with each of them in turn.

"He simply slipped on the steep steps. Perhaps catching his footing on his cloak. I was the closest one to him when he fell." she said this with as much of an imperious nature that she could muster. She looked at each of them again, making it clear that if they were going to accuse someone of trying to injure him, then they'd have to accuse her.

Then her tone softened.

"The worst of his injuries was a badly broken leg, that probably would have killed him, had he been alone. He still has a head injury and some minor injuries. I wanted to get him settled before he awoke. Healing the leg took much from me. I will do what I can for his head, but he is going to need to rest for a bit."

She then moved to his head and perhaps to the surprise of all except Cesare watching, they saw a gentle light surround her hands, then the light seemed to flow into the man.

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

Keiko looked at Broke — well, at Broke’s shoulder, as that was the proper thing to do — and tilted her head, comprehension immediately showing in her eyes. Then she planted her fists on her hips, stared at the old woman for a moment, then turned and looked up the hill in the direction Dommi had led Henrik. Finally, Keiko threw her hands in the air as she looked back at the Guardian.

“Well, then why not just say that? Does our Tone-Deaf Lord always need to talk in circles and spirals because he follows the Mistress of Mischief? Do folks from Dawnview Vale think the Rhoni are so cunning that plain words will be mistaken?” she asked as she turned to the old woman.

“The both of you are silly beyond the expression of it in any language! From him,” she said, obviously referring to Dominic, “it makes sense. From strange elder women from Dawnview Vale?”

She shrugged expressively, taking a memory from Uncle Toshi’s teachings, and sighed as she looked at Tomomi. “Maybe we don’t want to visit the Vale, as much as Lady Bekkah says it’s the most glorious place on the mainland.”

The old woman snorted. “She’d have fallen down a well long ago if she hadn’t taken up with the Lady of Compassion.”

Keiko’s eyes narrowed at the old woman. She hadn’t known Lady Bekkah for very long, but the Rhoni liked the Healer very much. Even remembering that first Marketday — was it only last week? — Keiko couldn’t truly say that Lady Bekkah’s obliviousness to the danger she put herself in had been her fault. Not entirely. How could anyone have known that the Forest Folk had such a fear of Imperials? But to imply that Lady Bekkah was so dim that she’d fall down a well? That was simply rude!

“And you will get yourself run through,” the old woman said as she reached a hand out toward Keiko, “if you don’t—”

The Rhoni didn’t even think. She just moved. A duck, a twist, a tap, a spin, and a hop left her untouched and a step below the woman rather than above. It wasn’t even the training in the Dances that accounted for it — or at least, not entirely. Quite a bit of it was instinct honed as a young woman who traveled among the Gaija, ones that believed they could touch whomever they wanted to touch.

“I don’t think I like you, Oma. And I don’t think I’d like your steely hand to touch me. Don’t start to chide me about speaking my mind, for one should be able to speak one’s mind in one’s home. I have been welcomed here, and this is as close to a home as I will have until I see my Family again. I’ve spent enough years Traveling to know how to speak to the Gaija who gather around the Caravan.”

The old woman laughed, although there was little humor anyone could hear in the sound.

“Perhaps you won’t get run through with a sword, after all.”

Keiko’s lips thinned as she regarded the elder. Perhaps she had meant this as a lesson. Perhaps she had not. But the youngster was intelligent enough to see it as one. Besides that, she had spent many Marketdays conversing with Renyard the Questioner. She had not traveled everywhere in the world with her Family, that was true. But she had been able to take the measure of many a Marrennen, and the flavor of their disdain for the Rhoni people was only a matter of degree. When they gathered around a Caravan to be entertained, Gaija were Gaija were Gaiji. Again, their reactions and attitudes were measured against the same staff.

And the old woman’s slight tight-lipped smile was another lesson: it put into context the reactions of Lady’s Bekkah’s companions to the Rhoni lass when they had arrived at Waverider’s Watch. They had been the anomalies. This was something she needed to consider further.

As the woman turned back to Broke, her gaze lingered for several heartbeats on the minstrel. She said nothing, but her attention was as sharp as a knife’s edge.

“And what do I want with you?” she said to Broke as she looked directly at the shadows hidden in the Guardian’s hood. “I wanted to see if I was dealing with a cobble block even thicker than the last one who tried my patience.”

Cesare

He backs up what Bekkah has said.

"Closest yes, but not close enough sadly to prevent his fall."

His smile is sad.

"And although his physical injuries may be healed, the head injury could still affect his understanding afterwards. He may be confused or his memory may not be true."

He shrugs.

"Hopefully not.." he smiles "We all wish him the fullest of recoveries but I have seen this sort of after effect before."

He nods gravely, then executes a short bow of respect to Bekkah. Hopefully they will get the impression he has learned much over a long period from the healer, which he has, and it will give weight to his words. Maybe, just maybe, the Merchant Prince's last intentions may not come to fruition.

Lyric

The Minstrel met the Old Woman's sharp gaze and did not flinch or avert her own eyes. While she would rather not be the focus of her attention, Lyric was not afraid. Maybe she should be, but then, if she was, she would be Lyric is Lyric.

Without Keiko standing before, the Bard had no cover to obfuscate the woman's focus. When their eyes met, Lyric knew that the Old Woman was indeed studying her.

But she too, studied the Old Woman, and had been doing so since first she made her presence known on the steps.

Moments before the meeting of eyes, Lyric watched Keiko do the steps as though she were dancing. She had heard her friend use the word 'Dance' before and this is what that looked like. The Old Woman reached out to touch her and Keiko reacted in wariness. Lyric did have to admire the brashness of her responses though. Potentially dangerous... But Keiko was Keiko, right? And Lyric would not see her friend injured, if that been the Old Woman's intent, without acting to intervene. How she might respond was still a mystery to even herself. But that was what made living this life oh so interesting.

So, now she stood unshielded, with Keiko two steps down, and the space between herself and the Old Woman devoid of obstacles. But the gaze only lasted but a moment and the Old Woman resumed her evaluation of Broke.

Remember, there is One Rule for Marketday... And so the Minstrel remained wary and ready.

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.

In the small caravan, both the guards and the Apprentice nodded, listening to Bekkah's explanation. It was just this side of the truth to not bring down any divine enmity and legitimate enough to be believed. The Jvrillians took Cesare's and Bekkah's burden and made it their own. The two swordsmen seemed much more capable at such mundane manual labor than either Rhoni or Priestess.

Perhaps they have had to do this before?

The Apprentice bowed.

"Again, you have our thanks. We are in your debt for this kind deed."

When Cesare continued, however, the Jvrillians paused. The elder of the two considered his words and just nodded. He had seen similar too many times in his line of work. The Apprentice, however, gave Cesare a much more considering look. An extremely skeptical one. Still, all went well, their parting complete, until Bekkah took that step forward to see what else might be done. Treat those as you would like to be treated, that is what the initiates of Attera are taught. No good deed goes unrewarded is what they are later taught. But it is only the more wry, the much older and much more experienced Priestesses that understand that sometimes, sometimes the truth of it is a bit different.

After the light touch, the Merchant Prince lifted his head. He shook it. Once. Twice. And then spoke. He did not seem happy, not even noticing the kindness given him.

"Who was that witch!"

The Apprentice's brow rose, as he gave the Rhoni a sharp look. His master did not seem befuddled at all. He seemed very definite about his choice of words. The Merchant Prince continued.

"She did it on purpose!"

Sometimes no good deed goes unpunished.

Meanwhile, the subject of that conversation was giving The Pack's leader her gruff and uncompromising gaze. For the moment Lyric seemed safe from that perceptive look. The Minstrel's senses were truly on edge. In some ways, she had felt this before. In her small village, there were many who were not who they seemed - and this was true the older one seemed to be. There were too many stories about meeting an old woman on the road only to discover that she was no mere old woman.

Her demeanor - how she spoke, how she treated Keiko, how she approached the travel cloaked Forest Folk, that was something that, after a long set of heartbeats, both minstrel and Rhoni-lass could now see.

She must be on a different kind of quest.

The Old Woman hadn't come here to be liked.

Broke straightened a bit, as she looked down at the shorter woman. There were advantages of being a wolven Forest Folk. They tended to be on the large size. Both Lyric and Keiko could catch a glint in hood shadowed eyes; the Guardian had figured something out. The Old Woman had let something slip. Broke's answer rolled off all slow and easy like, as if she were some dumb country bumpkin in an intellectual quandary, all full of dropped 'Ls' and rolled 'Rs'.

"What is the word? I know there is a word. Where is that Lordling when you need him. He knows all the words.

"Hussar ... nin ...

"Ritter ... nin ...

"Knight ... nin ...

"Ah! That be it, ja?"

Broke leaned a little forward, her tone becoming gruff, a perfect match for the Old Woman's firm speech.

"So.

"I need a better question, ja?

"Fine.

"What does a Dayalan Verchovai want from me, Gramma Kassia?"

Bekkah

She knew the merchant could very well regain his memory and then be angry again but she never considered not helping him. It was not her Lady's way, nor her own.

"A witch?" she asked clearly confused. The reaction was no act. She had no idea what he was talking about.

"I have healed your wounds, but the power comes from my Goddess. Most appreciate her touch. I have never been called a witch before." she said looking quite annoyed.

Cesare

"There was a stranger, an old woman, standing next to him when he tripped.. perhaps that is who he is referring to? I'm sure he did not mean to insult you.. or your Lady."

He addresses his remarks to Bekkah. But if they add confusion, well it is not his.

Lyric, meeting the eye of one who is more than she seems.

Too many Fables and tales of Lore began with a seemingly chance and random encounter with an Old Woman. Lyric's opinion about 'chance' and 'random' and 'coincidence' were already recorded among the words written here, and there was no reason to belabor that any further. To that end though, the Minstrel watched with the steady wariness... But respect. It was a good and wise thing Keiko had done in moving forward to offer hospitality when other instincts might have prevailed otherwise. Respect and patience were key to the testing. And right now it appeared as if Broke were the focus of the Old Woman's test. Demonstrate virtue and compassion (or whatever it was the Old Woman was seeking) and be recognized as worthy. Fail to do these things and a curse was often the punishment in the tales.

Lyric's attention shifted to the from the old Woman to the mostly shadowed hood of the Pack leader. What to do? She had been given the honor of being part of the Pack. Maybe that was honorary for she was not one of them and had not survived and endured the experiences of their kind. But, even so, she had been grateful that they offered her a place among them all the same.

It was a moment where her sagely self won out over mercurial. Without a word, and in action only, she breathed deeply and out slowly, and again. She wanted Broke to remember to relax and be patient, even more so than she was already doing. The tales that were often told ages later would be the ones where the test was failed, and those tales were often focused on another who had to come along to teach the lessons to get to the 'happily ever after' part. Silly morality tales, but so many were rooted in truths and realities.

All this while though, the Minstrel never forgot that she knew of these stories because her people were the kind to wear many faces and many who played at subterfuges for amusement. Moreover, it would be hypocritical to judge this Old Woman's motives for adopting a guise that might conceal her truth...

But Wisdom was born from wariness and motives were one thing, but intentions were another. Until Lyric understand the intentions she would remain at the readied edge of a metaphoric sword.

Verchovai Kassia Dariansdotter

Fewer than a handful of people on all of the mainland had ever seen this woman smile with actual warmth; only her youngest sister had seen such a wonder more than once. Most people who knew her simply assumed, possibly encouraged by her sister’s comments, that she merely had varying degrees of scowls.

Today, the Dayalan Starlord favored Broke with a rare and fleeting smile.

“So. You have learned a thing or two already from our friend Renyard. Good.

“Still... your question is not quite accurate. It is not what I want, Furball. It is what my Lady wants.

“Beyond your obvious martial skills, you have managed to impress not only the Cobble Block but the Allaine as well. They’re a fine pair, as you no doubt noticed — heart and mind balancing one another, ja? My Lady sent me to conscript you to her service.”

Verchovai Kassia waved a hand dismissively and preemptively. “There’s no need to mince words. We are not in court. If you have an objection to wearing the Silver Star, I will give your words all due consideration.

“But as you may have learned from the Pest, the deities are set on having their way. Dayala is more stubborn than most.” She paused a heartbeat. “Did I say most? I misspoke. She is even more stubborn than Jvill, who is believed to be the most stubborn.”

Without taking her eyes from the Guardian, Kassia pointed to Lyric and then Keiko. “You children may go. Fetch these meat pies that you praise so highly. I will judge their excellence for myself.”

But then she turned and looked at Tomomi. “Tell his lordship I expect an audience with him before he disappears. We have matters to discuss.” Once more, she paused, but this time she tilted her head slightly. “Thank you.”

Lyric, child-like

The minstrel smiled as she stepped back up another step. She had no desire to... 'stumble and trip'... upon the steps like the Merchant Man and so she waited for Keiko to tell her which way they were going to go, up or down.

Oh, she had many questions but they would wait until the pair of them, maybe three if Tomomi joined them, either before or after her own appointed task was finished.

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

Keiko’s eyes widened slightly as the old woman spoke to Broke. She tried to make connections to stories she knew and rumors she’d heard, but the best she could decipher was that this knight of Dayala was insisting Broke was to become... a Dayalan warrior? Well, why not? Broke was as fierce and as worthy as any of the women about whom the Dayalans sang their songs. The unnerving thing about Dayalans songs was that their warriors tended to have short lives with unpleasant ends.

But there unquestionably were gaps in her mastery of Lore. Keiko knew that not every Pack member had returned from the mines, and understood — as well as anyone could who wasn’t a Covener — that life and death were both parts of one’s Path on the Heartwood. She was probably still too young to have fully absorbed the lessons. Even knowing that Paths diverged and some ended, she couldn’t help feeling a pain of loss at the death of family and now friends. Either her elders had been less erudite in the teachings, or she had not been the excellent student they believed her to be. But in the end, they had said that someday she would understand. As one who had Dragon’s Blood soaked into the skirts of her tunics, she wasn’t sure that was true. Perhaps her compassion was too great. It was a necessary trait of a Reader, but maybe it didn’t allow for enough distance to see partings as merely part of the journey. A fork in the road was one thing; to know that many of her friends of Home slept with Krysta was something else. Not that she resented giving Kysta her due, of course. It was right and proper.

It just... well, it hurt. And perhaps that was the lesson to be learned: joy and sorrow could not be held in isolation of one another.

But she managed to bring her thoughts back to Broke and the Verchovai. Maybe Dayalans weren’t meant to die of old age. And didn’t the Lore say that those who died battling Chaos would find their place among the constellations? The two new stars in the Dark Patch certainly gave a great deal of weight to that story. But it didn’t really seem like this was the right time or place to ask about such things, although her curiosity was certainly more intense now about the followers of Dayala.

As the Rhoni thought about it, however, she considered the possibility that maybe Lady Bekkah’s sister would be a better source of information. The old woman seemed, well, crabby.

She looked up at Lyric and beckoned her down the stairs. Keiko knew that Lyric was Lyric was Lyric and as such, the Rhoni couldn’t imagine a scenario in which a Dayalan knight would find the minstrel a threat — and assuredly not the sort of threat a Priest of Marrennen could be. But the youngster also knew that the old woman was considerably more than she seemed — more spry, more crafty, more powerful. And so was her friend Lyric. Too many unknowns made her apprehensive.

Her eyes flickered back and forth between the Dayalan and her friend until Lyric was beyond the easy reach of the old woman. Only then did she relax enough to continue down the stairs toward the Market and Missus Heatherson’s pies. It occurred to her that the protectiveness she felt toward Lyric was both unnecessary and unusual, causing her to be less talkative than she might otherwise have been. Well, that, and the fact that she didn’t want to talk within easy earshot of the old woman.

Fortunately — because Broke had chosen a post lower than usual — there were few stairs to traverse before reaching the field. She stopped there, her gaze going back to Broke and the old woman for a handful of heartbeats before she turned to Lyric and shrugged.

“I suppose the fetching of meat pies is our mission, ja?”

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.

Tomomi nodded. She snapped herself up straight and replied very officially.

"Yes Gramma!"

With a poof, she vanished. For a moment a Mouse appeared on the Tower top, hand to her brow as she looked about. Then Tomomi popped away again. She wasn't Emerald. She couldn't jump to people. Just where she could see or have seen. And she was pretty clever at figuring out how to see things.

"You are one of us, remember?"

Wolves could always sense fear, concern, and unsettlement. It was what all the old stories spoke about them and interestingly, from personal experience, Lyric knew that there was much more truth than myth in those tales. Broke's words; she spoke to Lyric first, before she answered the Old Woman's query. It was definitely on purpose. Cementing where her first duty lay; to those under her care, The Pack. A plain reminder that Lyric had nothing to worry about on the black Wuffess' watch. When Keiko reached the bottom of the steps she could tell - just because of the subtle movement of a travel cloak hood that Broke had probably perked her ears and that just perhaps - just perhaps - she was smiling a little bit wolfishly. Broke nodded to Lyric, in agreement.

The nice thing was that the walk to the Heathersons was not far, a side benefit of this, in actuality, being a small village. It also happened to be Dominic's village too, but that was about where the resemblance to the strange place that Dominic said he came from ended. As it was late, Missus Heatherson was already packing up her wares.

"Meat pies ..."

The goodwife hesitated, for a long set of heartbeats. Then she smiled and nodded, once each for Rhoni and Minstrel. before they could stop her she scampered her way back into her home. A few long moments passed before she came out, carrying a small basket covered with a small quilted cloth.

She managed a small smile, offering it to Keiko.

"Here. This will do. I apologize, it's a big one, well, that's, that's ... "

Missus Heatherson hesitated for a moment as if she was trying to find a good reason for the dinner-sized pie.

"It's big for all the help you did these folks, who never had anyone help them before, 'ceptin' for our Young Master.

"And it's big, for sharing."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wooden bridge, another set of guardians had a very different matter to contend with.

"Not the Lady, you idiots, the old bat on the stairs!"

That was the Marrennen's clarification. The two guards and the Apprentice just looked at their Master.

"What ..."

One of the Jvrillians looked between their employer, Cesare, and the small figures on the walk.

"Let me make sure I understand. You want us to go beat up an old woman?"

The Marrennen just glared. He looked back over his shoulder towards the big block of stone. His eyes narrowed a bit, not seeing any visible retribution from the Guardian and the woman who had tripped him. Silent for a long time, his eyes narrowed.

"Why does the bloody Noble favor those creatures?"

And why does he have to be here or all times? That was the unspoken question, that could be seen in the eyes of the Merchant, his apprentice, and their Guard. It was that silent acknowledgment of the Law. Commoners could bicker all they wanted, pagans could kill each other to their heart's content, but a Noble's word could not be denied. No matter what complaint the Merchant might have, as long as the Korie was here they would fall on deaf ears.

Back on the stairs, notwithstanding the eyes that lay upon them from the other side of the bridge, Broke was gathering her thoughts.

"Busybodies!

"What is with you folks!"

Broke's response was sudden and quick, sharp and ruff and more than a little exasperated.

"You know, two bloody days ago you and yours wouldn't even give us the time of day! And poof, one really nice lady later and everyone is all over us! Our most misguided Mouse now belongs to the shadows - and I feel sorry for them, She has no idea the trouble she has gotten herself into - my den mother is now my first Momma's, now the Executioner really is one and I think the only reason why we aren't surrounded by snarkhounds is that One Fang would EAT them!"

Her head tilted.

"I wonder if they taste like farmbirds."

The big black wuffess then let out a long chuffed breath. All within the shadow of her travel cloak hood.

"Well, not all of you. Dommi. The Heathersons. Rory. Keiko, Lyric, Cesare, Pietro, Bekka. And you were wrong too, Gramma. Renyard told me a whole nuthin'. It was the Allaine and her Knight.

"Her Knight ..."

Broke drew herself up.

"I got a job, Gramma. I protect these people. I hold this Pack together. I'm a Guardian.

"Best bloody job in the world."

The hood canted.

"Knowing that, does your Lady still want me?"

Lyric, with questions

Was it concern that Broke perceived? Was it fear? Maybe worry? Lyric could only offer a slight head cock and a thin, 'wuffish' grin to the Pack Leader as a way to alleviate any concerns such as those. But, if the Guardian were offering reassurance in recognition of the Minstrel's obvious wariness, then those words were received as intended.

Lyric did not fear the old woman, nor what the Old Woman might be able to do. There was no point in fearing what has not happened yet, what might not happen, or what might not be possible... or even if it might. Her wariness was part of being prepared and putting fear in a proper place as an advisor to keep her alive, and not the one in charge of her emotional state.

Lyric, light of foot, and graceful, as though it were an inborn trait to be such, slipped around the Old Woman and Broke to join Friend Keiko.

"Then we shall accomplish as best we can, and waste no time," she replied to the Rhoni girl, with a look that said there just might be a need for some time-wasting along the way. A look that was closer to the mercurial side of the Minstrel, but hinted at enough sage, to be mischievous.

And once off, turning the those remaining steps into a game akin to hopping and scotching, or whatever it might be called, Lyric began with a preamble of experience before asking her questions in a constant patter until Keiko cut her off.

"I have heard stories, mostly tales, though... about Old Women appearing unannounced and generally unexpected... They are almost always dangerous and deceptive... testing virtue and resolve... Apples. Don't eat the apples from Old Women. I like apples though. I never had an apple before Ser Pietro shared one with me. It was so delicious. Oh, and flowers is another thing Old Women offer. A gift that is a test. Reject the gift and reveal a dark and cold heart, and a Curse is what you receive. Oh my..."

Lyric glanced back up the stairs at Broke, hoping the Guardian was careful not to reject the Old Woman's 'flowers' outright. But then the Minstrel nodded and smiled, and trusted her Pack leader... and the concern was gone. Lyric laughed again as she resumed her skipping dance-like pace beside Keiko, and the patter picked up where it had left off.

"And... I must admit that I love flowers too. No surprise there, right? But I realize now that I might fall prey to one of these Old Women from the tales if I am not as careful as I am clever. Would you please remember to remind me not to eat any apples from an Old Woman?"

But she didn't pause just yet, and would only do so reluctantly when Keiko decided she had enough to answer.

"What is a Dayalan?

"And what is Dayala, for which there is a Dayalan? Am I even saying that right? Am I being disrespectful?

"Also, is a 'Verk a Vie' a name or a title?

"Oh, about Reynard? Who is this? I have heard this name before, around Home. And Allaine and the Cobble Block? Who are they? Are they in balance? I do not not understand."

There was a seemingly endless amount of questions. But the Minstrel's carefree happiness and animation of spirit was infectious. It was as if she were 5 years old, skipping along, but asking about serious things.

"Does this Old Woman, if indeed that is what she really is, serve a Dayalla, the Dayalla... Does she serve the Cobble Block, a disrespectful way to refer to one's patron if so... or the Allaine... or both, if they are together in balance?

"Why does she speak, both dismissively and yet lovingly... for I think that is what underlies her words... about Lady Bekkah? As though she were related in some way, and had privilege to speak so? Does she know the priestess?"

Lyric turned a full-circle as she stepped, almost dancing now, twirling her arms out to embrace the air and the light of She Overhead.

"I believe I must learn more about more things... like history things. Yes? My people have been so secluded for so long, and what tales we tell seldom mention much I find useful now. We might have forgotten much in our own traditions and lives, or missed things that should not have been missed. I am not much of a Bard if I know nothing worth the hearing, and I aspire to be one, more than just a Minstrel... though I am happy and love being a Minstrel. Don't misunderstand, I am not ungrateful for who I am and what I have learned and already know. But, what silliness would it be if I were so content that I didn't try to learn more... Do you agree?"

Bekkah

She knew exactly what the man had meant, but she wanted everyone a bit off balance. Then the man seemed to hesitate because Dommi was there. Her eyes narrowed and she stepped before the merchant, her hands on her hips, her lips pursed.

"And what difference does his presence make?"

She took a slight step forward. While shorter than the man and much smaller in weight, she clearly possessed a bearing well above her size.

"And does the word of a priestess of Lady Attera not carry enough weight for you." she said her tone cold, her eyes boring into the man.

Cesare

He has known Bekkah a while now.. and has a lot of respect for this lady and her veracity of spirit and belief, so he is not entirely surprised when she challenges the merchant.

There seems little more that he could add. Keeping things simple is often the best policy but he adds a tiny bit of extra weight to Bekkah's challenge by taking a step forward too, to stand just behind and a little to her left, adding his support in a physical demonstration.

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

Keiko meandered a bit on the way to Missus Heatherson’s stall. Lyric was pouring out words in a way that was oh so familiar and the more Lyric spoke, the greater was the Rhoni’s smile. When Lyric finally — albeit temporarily, in all likelihood — ran out of words, Keiko impulsively hugged her friend and nodded.

“Of course, I agree! You have said that you come from a small place and that your people are isolated. So you will always be learning and... Oh, learning new things is wonderful! You have a way with music, and the stories you tell with your music touch hearts. That is rare and the truth, Friend Lyric. I am happy to share with you the stories I have learned. I don’t doubt that we will learn even more as the days and weeks pass. Ah, but where to begin?”

She began with the transaction of meat pies. Or rather, a single very large meat pie. It was unexpected, it was kindness disguised as a meal, and it was surprising enough that Keiko barely caught herself from thanking the farmer’s wife in Eastern. After all, because the Family Nakano was the Family Nakano, the Caravan had spent equal amounts of time on both sides of the Kh’Lhy’Ra Pass — Keiko heard Eastern as often as she heard Colonial when she was growing up.

“Veel danks,” she said instead. Forestalk would be safer. She needed to remember that.

She cradled the basket in one arm as she walked with Lyric. It was evident as Keiko spoke that she had a deep love of learning. Anyone who happened to overhear her would come to a reasonable conclusion that the Rhoni attitude toward teaching their young women was out of sorts with the official Imperial policy of ensuring that girls need only be taught what was necessary for the running of a household. Granted, that was a worthy and not inconsiderable endeavor — but there was no need for most girls of the world to learn history.

“First, the word is vair CHO vahy [IPA: vɛəɹ tʃoʊ vaɪ] and is said to come from the Ancient language and is supposed to mean knight. I don’t see why that’s not the case, and I think maybe Broke confirmed it.

“Now, I don’t think you need to worry about old women of the Tarn and their apples and flowers. Or even that old woman from Dawnview Vale. There aren’t many old women from the East who’d ever come even so far as Trundle, and those are ones I think you’d want to beware of. I’d like to hear your stories about old women, though. It would be interesting to see how they compare to stories I learned while traveling with my Family beyond Kh’Lhy’Ra Pass. But it might be that she is here to test Broke.” She paused as she quickly glanced up at the Dayalan. “And probably here to teach me a lesson that I hope to remember.

“Dayala... ah, that is the name of the First Deity. She Who Lights the Sky. Most of the stories that are told of that time before the Shattering Wars start with, ‘First there was the Forest, and all else was the many changing forms of Chaos.’ It is said that it was She who, upon seeing nothing but Forest and Chaos, said that there should be Order. And so She rose above the Forest, creating the first day and, with that first day, Order and Time. This displeased the Chaos Lords so much that the Shattering Wars were fought, bringing forth all the people and creatures and heroes and Deities. Most people forget that the Lady Sun has a name and that her name is Dayala.

“And so the women who serve her are the Dayalans. That is the most respectful way to refer to them — I have heard Jvrillians say some very rude things about them. I haven’t met many squires. In fact, Pietro is the only one I’ve met. I’ve certainly never met any Knights of Rames. From what I have heard of them, though, they all seem to be much too polite to say those very rude things.”

She shrugged before continuing.

“The tales also say that the uncountable stars in the night sky are Her followers who have died. I think most of them died in the wars with the East, for they are the ones who hate Chaos the most, the Dayalans, I mean. Of course, there are the two new stars in the Dark Patch, and there must be a grand tale about that. I know Dommi mentioned it, but his relationship with the truth is not a close one — although neither he nor truth seem to mind much — so perhaps asking other people would be a wise endeavor.”

Keiko laughed. “Oh, you would like Renyard, I think! He is a wise Fox and asks more questions than he answers... except that his questions always point to answers. He’s a teacher. He likes to make people think. And when folks start thinking in different ways, in new ways, about new things... well, I think that makes him very happy.”

She glanced up at Broke and the Dayalan. “If the old woman is a Dayalan knight... and I think she probably is...”

Keiko looked back at Lyric and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“I can’t say for certain that all of my conclusions are correct. We would need to ask the Verchovai, and... well, I think I’d prefer to ask Dommi, even if he and truth aren’t the best of friends.

“I’ll start with the Allaines, who are the Noble Family of Dawnview Vale. They certainly give the impression of being good Imperial citizens, but there are also many stories and rumors that say they are followers of Dayala. The only Dayalan Temple is in the Vale. No one can say for certain — except the Allaines and Dayalans — that the High Priestess of their order is the Khorall’s eldest sister. And so a Dayalan, especially one who is an old woman, would be more familiar with the Noble family than the commoners.

“It seems to be a truth rather than a rumor that the Allaines care as much for the people of the Vale as Dommi cares for the folks of Waverider’s Watch and the Forest. So this would lead me to guess that the old woman might know Lady Bekkah if the Allaine of whom she speaks is the Heir rather than the Khorall. From things Lady Bekkah has said — or perhaps just the way she said them — I believe it is her sister who is a friend of the Heir.”

The Rhoni’s brows drew together as she connected old stories to new rumors to hints dropped like seeds along the ground.

“If the more recent tales of the Heir are true — that she has given her heart to her Knight — then I think it might be that Lady Daxia is that Knight. That they are balanced? Perhaps it means that each brings out in the other qualities that are needed for both of them to... to fulfill their destinies — that is if one believes in such a thing as destiny. It is well-known that Dama Kisa is a shy and bookish young woman. All I know of Lady Daxia is what Lady Bekkah has said. But she speaks of her sister with as much love as I feel for my own siblings, so surely she must be a good influence on the Heir — especially if they have pledged their hearts to one another.

“But why would the Verchovai call Lady Daxia a cobble block?” Keiko paused as her eyes widened. “Oh, my. Oh, this is an interesting twist on the Path! My own teachers would call me silly and flighty when I was not paying enough attention to their lessons. Perhaps the old woman was Lady Daxia’s teacher and ‘cobble block’ is something she called the Lady when she was a student! It’s certainly more rude than anything my teachers said to me, but I would think Dayalan teachers might be harder on their students than Rhoni elders are. A Warrior has more need to learn hard lessons than a Card Reader...”

She paused again, pressing her lips together and gazing at the Forest for a moment. Finally, she sighed softly.

“And yet, I am a Card Reader who has learned some hard lessons.”

Shaking her head and pushing away those memories, she smiled at Lyric again.

“If the old woman is Lady Daxia’s teacher, then surely she must have known Lady Bekkah, too. Perhaps the old woman’s attitude toward Lady Bekkah is born of that connection. And it does seem that she has urgent business with Broke and Dommi, while Lady Bekkah was in quite a hurry to tend to the Marrennen.”

Keiko looked back toward the bridge and the merchant’s camp on the other side. “There are three great Merchant Families. The Marrennen are the largest and have named themselves after their God. I suppose their God does not mind. I’ve never met one of the Emeraldsson Family merchants. But I’ve met plenty of the Hythanian Family merchants.”

She paused again, still looking at the merchant’s camp.

“Sometimes I wonder if the merchants of Family Hythanian are actually followers of Marrennen. I suppose it’s possible. Lady Bekkah said that Rhomanishkah al’Lhahrhonsha is her apprentice and now serves the Goddess Attera. I think I am less surprised that an Eastern princess — at least the Princess Romana — follows the Imperial Goddess than I am at Eastern merchants following one of the Gods of the West. But Marrennen is a Two-Faced God, whose other face is named Khol. That might amuse the Hythanians enough to be followers of Marrennen and not mere merchants.”

Shrugging again, she patted the basket cradled in the crook of one arm. “There is enough meat pie here for Broke to share with the old woman and all the Mice.” She chuckled and pointed her chin at one of the boulders. “And lazy Hinata Cat who is about to discover that She is moving Her Light away from him. Missus Heatherson’s kindness is meant, I think, for all of us who have helped the Forest Folk. But I think this pie is perhaps better given to those who have never tasted them before. Did you have a chance to taste one last Marketday? Not even if you go to Trundle will you taste a meat pie this delicious!”

Lyric, with an answer... and maybe another question.

It was equally as involved an answer from Keiko, as were the questions posed to her. Probably more so... No, for certain more so. Yes, Keiko had done more than answer questions, she offered opinions and even some personal perspective. So, more so.

But the hug was unexpected. Physical interactions like this one seemed so spontaneous. Of course she was a spontaneous person and given to manic bouts where everything she did seemed spontaneous, especially to herself. But the intimacy of it, was more raw and real than she could have imagined. It felt right, but not something she was accustomed to. She stood still in the embrace for a moment before the whimsy of the situation caught up to her and allowed her to relax and return the hug. The relaxation was noticeable too, like a sigh that the body makes.

Meat Pies?

"I had a small one just earlier, not all that long ago, when Cesare and I were wandering the market right after returning from the Forest. It was very delicious. And I agree with you... about sharing it as you suggested. We should do that first, saving some for the Versh-o-vahee..."

At the very utterance of the Old Woman's title, Lyric hung her head as she shrugged.

"I am not sure I am ever going to get those sounds together rightly, and make them come from my mouth as they should. And for one who is supposed to be quite good with the sounds I hear, I admit this one has me a bit..."

"I don't even know what it has me."

"Vercho... Vai...eee"

She shook her head again, offering a wave for Keiko to lead them where they should go while she tried yet again... and again. And then, finally she thought she had it right. Maybe not.

"Ver Cho Va... he... or hi?"

She had many other questions... or maybe just a couple. There was no way to know just yet.

Verchovai Kassia Dariansdotter

Kassia snorted once more. “Why are the best of you always dumber than cobble blocks?” she muttered, mostly to herself. “First Poppy. Then my own sister. Then the Starwatcher kin. Thank the sea and stars I didn’t have to train the Koromov! By the way, that one has a fondness for minstrels and talks too much. There’s already some ridiculous falderal circulating about that hullabaloo at Bordertown.

“The Gods have taken an interest in you and yours, Furball, because they can finally see you. That should have been obvious.” She gestured absently in Bekkah’s direction. “Yuri’s eldest daughter performed a miracle. What did you expect? I’m sure the Lady of Mercy is having Herself a good laugh right now. It’s probably the first time She’s been able to show up those Brothers of Hers since She insisted on having the ability to stay Hastur’s Justice.”

The Starlord climbed up a couple of steps so that she didn’t have to look up at Broke. “You’re probably right about the snarkhounds. Not about their taste but rather your brother’s disposition. Khannish isn’t stupid; this One Fang of yours needs no help from the snarkhounds. And joking about their taste is something you might be forgiven only once. Not everyone has the Trickster’s sense of humor.

“Your Executioner is a Priestess now. Krysta may claim souls at life’s end, but She is happiest when those lives were lived with joy. Or so I’ve been told. The Mother’s followers are few and far between, persecuted across most of the land. It’s unkind to begrudge Her one who is safer than most.”

The old woman glanced up at the tower and chuckled darkly. “The Vixen already has the Pest; I don’t doubt that a misguided Mouse will increase Her enjoyment a hundred times over.”

She folded her arms under her cloak as she looked at Broke with annoyance.

“As for me and mine, well, we’ve been a bit busy. Why would you need any of us to give you the time of day when all you need to do is look up and She will tell you. But if you mean people in general...” She shook her head. “You were better off with the Pest watching over you.”

Kassia laughed when Broke stood taller, prouder.

“And isn’t it clever of you to already have a job? What in our Lady’s name and those of our Sisters do you think it is we do when the East stays tucked behind their passes? We defend those who cannot defend themselves! That’s what you do, isn’t it? You guard your people. You care for the Pest’s people and honor them by hiding your true selves from them.

“Yes, yes, the Allaine has convinced Yuri’s youngest daughter that saving the world is part of her job, too. That one ought to have been cuffed more as a child, although she is right that we can’t survive another attack from the East. The Cobble Block decided all on her own that breaking curses was part of the job. It’s probably a good thing she takes this business of being the Heir’s Own Knight far less seriously than the Heir does. She accepts the ridiculous title and the duties it implies out of genuine friendship. She’s going to discover that mine was not the only sharp tongue in the Vale.”

Kassia harrumphed. “Well, she survived the Koromov... she’ll survive Karina. You? I won’t send you there until you can refrain from eating the High Priestess. You’ll want to do more than just eat her by the time she gets through needling you, and she’s useful in her way. Complacent... but she does try her best to keep our cult alive.”

She glanced out across the market field, watching the two young women chatting. “There is certainly something interesting between the two of them, isn’t there? Guileless... and yet, they aren’t. The Rhoni is a Card Reader, isn’t she? Odd that she’s traveling, but one does hear tales. And the Minstrel is one of yours, ja? A high honor, I would imagine. They won’t have the same sort of fulcrum the Allaine and the Cobble Block have, yet I believe they’ll compliment one another all the same.”

The Starlord looked once more at Broke.

“Our Lady decided she wanted you from the moment she could see you. Even the unicorns are curious. Oh, you could decline the honor, I suppose. You’d be a fool, and our Lady would probably just send someone else. She’ll speak to Arylis, who’ll put a few words in the Pest’s ear, and before you know it, he’ll have the Koromov out here. I suspect you already know most of what she could teach you.

“So. I understand that you made a pact with the Allaine. Good. Tell me about it.”

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

Although she took notice of Lyric’s reaction, Keiko chose not to comment on it — neither with words nor by actions. Lyric was Lyric was Lyric, and that was simply the answer to most things that might have befuddled her about her friend. Follow the teachings of the Ancestors and let others be who they are. It was a good way to live in the world. Well, except when people were trying to hurt you or your family or your friends.

She smiled. “I like the small ones. Most marketplaces sell them, some with different meats and some with fruits. I’ve never seen one this big, though!”

Then she chuckled. “Oh, I think you will come to learn the sounds with enough practice. The beauty of it is that hardly anyone speaks Ancient. I’m not sure even all the Dayalans know it... perhaps it’s just their scholars.”

She started a slow amble back toward the stairs, greeting the village folks and Forest Folk they happened to encounter.

“The wisdom from the First Ancestors says that Ancient and Eastern came from a common language that existed before the Shattering Wars. It must have been a very strange language, for it would have only been the Chaos Lords who spoke it.” She shuddered at the thought. “I only know a handful of words, but my elders insisted that I learn to say them as they had learned them from those who heard Dayalans speaking the sounds.

“This is how my Grandmother told me to remember it: Think of a fair — a type of festival, she said — or a fine and fair day. Then say the word with a ‘v’ sound: vair! Cho is not so hard... it is like choking, except you’re not going to choke. Just... cho! I was vexed by the final syllable, too. I’m not certain I say it exactly as Grandmother does, but she said it is like tying a knot. Tie becomes vie, except...” Keiko shrugged. “There’s an oddity to Ancient that doesn’t exist in Eastern or Forestalk or Colonial, but Grandmother said it was close enough not to offend anyone. And because the second part of the word should be stressed, that’s the one you push out harder.”

Keiko leaned closer and whispered to Lyric, “The Eastern word for knight is rhashashar, which I think is much easier to say. The rhashashars are not terribly noble or good or kind, that much is true. But maybe I shouldn’t teach you much Eastern, for apparently, it is unpleasant on this side of the Black Mountains for people to hear it.”

Then she smiled broadly and continued in a normal conversational tone. “The Forestalk word for knight is Richter, and there is a Richter Gwynn who lives near Talesan’s Village. Some people believe Richter Gwynn is an old, old man, a Knight of Rames who has become a hermit, and that all the tales of Richter Gwynn are from long ago... before I was born. But my father said that his cousin’s Caravan once met her when she was traveling back from the Vale. So perhaps we will meet her, too, if we travel a Path that takes us in that direction.”

Lyric, of language and lessons

"The speaking of those words, the ones you call eastern, are not unpleasant, nor do they offend me. And the same is true for any words in Ancient or even Forestalk. I like to hear them. In fact, I need to keep learning more Imperial, or Colony Imperial, I think it better called."

She walked along, occasionally skipping, as she continued speaking the various thoughts that came to her mind.

"what of the Shattering Wars and these Chaos Lords. Do they walk the Lands? Are they older than the many Gods who make their presence known, and even send Emissaries to small villages?"

"How long ago were these Shattering Wars? Has anyone ever taken the time to keep track of that?"

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

“It is true that we speak Colonial Imperial. The Imperial language is something Lady Bekkah might know. And I believe the Justices and Eyes of Hastur learn it — not just speaking, but reading and writing! I think it would be ever so interesting to know how to read and write, even though it’s considered an affectation by most common folks. But the Nobles and Imperials are greater than we are, so reading and writing are more important to them.”

She nodded sagely. “Yes, I am content to be a Reader of the Cards, and don’t really have a need to know more than how to make the marks that represent my name. And I’m not sure if the Knights and Squires of Rames learn Imperial. I would have liked to ask Pietro that.”

Keiko frowned and looked sadly across the bridge as she stopped walking.

“I don’t understand why he left so suddenly, Lyric. I can’t help but think it was somehow my fault, although I believe I was only trying to offer friendship and a new beginning. I heard the sound of his sword snapping... Such a terrible thing for him... The Lore says that Rames Himself was chastising the Squire and perhaps withdrawing His benevolence. Even though we seemed to be at a place of conflict, there was not a reason we should have remained there. Yes, I was impatient; I will probably be impatient again in the future. I am still young and haven’t earned the right to call myself wise. And perhaps, at that moment, I might have deserved a rebuff. But for his Lord to chastise him so sharply? Ah, I shall never understand the Deities, shall I?”

The Rhoni shook her head. “He liked you. And you are my friend. So, had he stayed with us, I would have done my very best to understand him and see him as a companion rather than an adversary.

“And his horse was very pretty, too.”

Keiko drew in a deep breath and looked at her friend. “Agonizing over what has happened in the past, over things we cannot change or control, is against all that I was taught. Forgive my childish indulgence, Friend Lyric. I hope I have not made you sad. Come,” she said, gesturing toward the stairs, “let us deliver a meat pie to our friend Broke and the Verchovai.”

After a few paces, she added, “The Chaos Lords are the Deities of the East. I do not know if they walk among the folks there. I suppose they would be older than most of the Gods. Perhaps They are older than She Who Lights the Sky; perhaps They and She are all of a similar age. And if anyone has bothered to track the time from Her first rising to this day... Well, it would likely be the Dayalans.

“And if any Dayalan has shared that number, it is in a story that had not yet reached my Caravan before I left them.” The Rhoni smiled slightly, and a hint of mischief glinted in her violet eyes. “That is a story I’d like to hear! In the First Age, they created the calendar! Did you know that? And there are said to be Wise Women high in the Black Mountains above Dawnview Vale who still make it their life’s work to study the stars.”

She looked up at the tower atop the little rocky mountain in Waverider’s Watch, her gaze catching the figure of the Dayalan before shrugging.

“Sometimes I think the only reason the Rhoni haven’t kept track of how long it’s been since the Shattering Wars is that it doesn’t much matter to us. Right now is the important time. And each moment is right now. But I’m sure I heard Uncle Toshi once say that this Age — the Third Age or Imperial Age — has lasted about three hundred and fifty years.”


[OOC: To indirectly answer Lyric’s question, yes... someone has taken the time to keep track of that. Super OCD Woman knows. And taking a page from the GM’s playbook, I’ll just say that you’ll need to ask the right person the right question to get your answer. ]

Lyric, a little closer to delivering the meat pie

The minstrel stopped walking and waited for Keiko to do the same. She canted her head a little to the left, smiling, warmly regarding the Rhoni girl.

"My friend, nothing you have said makes me sad. Please know that. There is nothing to be sad about either. Squire Pietro is responsible for himself, just as you are for your own self. You can not blame you for what he did... anymore that he can you. Yes, I liked him. He was the first kindness I met on my journey here. But I can not be sad about things beyond my control, because the tears would obscure my view of all the things in my life that give me joy."

"We have lost friends along the way but we have done something wonderful and powerful in it's own kindness, and there should be grief for those gone, including the Squire leaving us to seek his own path, but we did the best we could... We lost people because we stood against a terrible evil and we prevailed... but there was a cost to accompany the reward. We did the best we could and many more were saved."

"So, Friend Keiko... remember this, it takes more than one person to have a misunderstanding that divides. Do not be so hard on yourself... It also takes more than one person to find a resolution that unites."

"So, let us deliver this pie, and rejoice that we have a moment that is Now, and rejoice for the moments that came before Now, and rejoice for the the moments yet to become Now... as many as might come our way. We can not control them, we can only experience them."

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.

Dark was the gaze that met Kassia, as she climbed those two steps to look Broke eye to eye. Dark, not as much as temperament but dark as simply the Guardian's coloring. The shadow of her hood could only conceal so much and this was the first time Kassia had a close look at the pack leader. Her features were still hard to discern, but she could tell that they were definitely feral and not human. There was a hint of a snout, the flickering of whiskers and the dark shine of non-human eyes.

"Redhair and your cobble block. I know about alliances; he might be a Pest but he is not a stupid pest - so I have a little understanding on the way things work beyond the Forest and the jigsaw of power - even if it comes from a unique viewpoint. How one can't be close to an Allaine or a Korie without it being a political thing. But come to the end of the day, travel cloaks hung and sitting about Home's hearth?

"We three are all Guardians.

"We three are thus kin.

"But more importantly ...

"We three are friends."

Brokes shoulders rose and fell, making her heavy leather cloak rustle. This close, Kassia could also hear the distinctive shuffle of mail rings sliding over each other.

"And friends look out for each other."

It was about now that Lyric and Keiko returned; at the base of the stairs, bearing a dinner fit for a family. It interrupted broke's conversation, a very definite sniff coming from the wuffess and a definite perking of the wuffess' attention. The dinner the two returned with indeed smelled delicious.

However, further away, beyond the hint of dinner and Missus Heatherson's culinary expertise, another manner of final blow had been made. Merchant prince, Jvrillian Guard, and the Apprentice all took a step back. Because it was absolutely true. Right now, here on the trail, it didn't matter if Bekkah Yurisdotter had been born common. She was a Priestess of Aterra and that gave her something that, as she had just so pointedly informed them, could not be brooked.

Imperial peerage.

Literally, her word was law.

And if they challenged her, Marrennen or Jvrillian? That was a very quick way to become firewood.

"Nin, Dama."

The Marrennen very quickly spoke up, swallowing and then hastily continued - speaking neither to Cesare or Bekkah but to his entourage. It was also a little odd; usually, it was the man who commanded such power - but today Cesare was sheltered beneath Bekkah's authoritative cloak.

"Come, come ... we should not be bothering the Lady; we have a lawful market to prepare for on the morrow. Help me back to camp so we can leave these good folk to their business. Right now, ja?"

With that Lady Bekkah Yurisdotter added the 'battle upon the wooden bridge' to her list of accomplishments.

"Dinner! Oh! Meat pies ... uhm pie ... uhm ... my gosh ... that pie is big enough to feed my entire village and have leftovers from Midwinters to Midsummers and ..."

Meanwhile, back at the stairs, summoned by Tomomi, Dominic and his lady had returned. They had made their way down a couple switchback and had gotten to a place where they could see both Broke and the person she was talking to. Tomomi walked behind the two, her expression hidden in the shadow of her own travel cloak hood.

"... YIKES!"

It was an absolute yelp of pure terror that Dominic let loose on seeing just who he had been summoned to meet. He immediately jumped backward and behind Miss Emerald, as if he was actually trying to hide behind his companion Mouse.

"I've been GOOD! I mean REALLY! I did NOTHING, I did nothing when I visited the Castle on her birthday! It was all innocent! Trust me! Please! I was a proper gentleman! Ask Emerald! Emerald chaperoned! Every Moment! Fine. Almost every moment! Fine! Fine! Careful, you old witch, I have a Mouse and I know how to use .... OW!"

That last, of course, was when Miss Emerald elbowed Dominic in the stomach.

"Fine. I have a Mouse who ... who ... I am already head over heels in love with."

Dominic's head suddenly slammed sideways, as if he had been hit and hit hard.

To which he just winced. Then he stood straight and actually called out strong and sure.

"This is my one and only bloody truth, ja? Deal with it."

The wind rustled his hair. Dominic blinked. Then he smiled.

"Ja. I know. She really is cute when she gets flustered"

Indeed. If a Mouse in a travel cloak could try and become any smaller Miss Emerald was certainly trying to be so. Dominic helped. He wrapped Miss Emmi up in his own black cloak.

Dinner had arrived. Dominic and Miss Mouse had arrived. Tomomi was hopping down the stairs as Lyric and Keiko were walking up from below. It was as if all the stress and tension that had haunted that landing was suddenly and completely dissipated. Until Broke raised a gauntleted hand. Her gaze had returned to the Grumpy Old Woman.

"Wait.

"Wait. Wait. Wait."

The wolf leaned forward until she was almost nose to nose with the Dayalan Starrider. Fine. Nose to big, black, sharp-toothed full muzzle.

"Go back. No, no, no, I am not letting this pass. Go back to what you said.

"Are you saying I might get a chance to eat a High Priestess?"

The wuffess held her predatory pose, eyes locked with the older woman.

"Fine. Fine. I know. Besides, humans taste horrible."

The unspoken question was how did Broke know?

"Can I cuff her? You know, a real good and hard cuffing? The kind of cuffing that would have Wrath seeing stars? Seeing stars, that'd be good for a Dayalan, ja?

"Cuff a High Priestess.

"Oh ho.

"I'm in."