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Wolf Offline OP
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The Heartwood
The Dirkwood Forest
Home
Marketday, the Ninth Day of Yrick


Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … and Most Everyone Else …

Tomomi blinked, once, twice and thrice, all as she listened to Keiko’s words. She then stopped, stopped and paused, turning her head back to the commons. Soft Mouse eyes met a Vixen’s. Lady, she just smiled, smiled and nodded her head.

“Make sure you pack your warm tunics and never forget to start the day without a good breakfast.”

In some ways Lay’s words were simple and light, but they were the words almost every mother had used once upon a time.

“Remember Broke’s One Rule. Renyard’s One Rule and My One Rule.”

Tomomi nodded, quietly, one and then twice and then thrice.

“No fighting …

“Never stop learning …

“And be kind to one another …”

The mistress of Home drew herself up then, crossing her arms. She gave another a stern look; this other was Mister Hinata Cat.

“Am I going to have to make you?”

Hinata just blinked.

“Look after my Mouse.”

“WHAT!”

Lady just gave the big cat an even more serious look. Hinata blinked.

“Why me?”

Lady then pointed to across the hall, where Wuff Wuff was scrambling wildly in the air, having been lifted off the floor and was being waved back and forth by Wrath - a sort of makeshift shield - as Wrath was facing down a rather annoyed looking Soft. Wrath actually looked a bit worried, for the female wuff’s fur sparkled as if bathed by sunlight. Broke obviously had figured out what was going on and was trying not to laugh – dealing with a Dominic had already taught her the danger of letting a priest or priestess get a good night’s sleep.

Hinata’s eyes narrowed.

“So?”

Lady gave the Cat an exasperated look.

“I already have them to deal with.”

“Oh.”

The big cat looked over Tomomi’s head, to the Rhoni wanderer.

“So.

“Do they have burnt fish on the way to this Dawnview place?”

Slowly the morning started to end. Cesare was the first to notice it, the slow collection of the Forest Folk in travel cloaks, the gathering of packs and baskets of goods to be traded. True, today might not be their largest Marketday – they had new folks to take care of and they came first – but they could not afford to just not show up.

To not show up would create more questions than showing up light handed. Both Merchants and Farmers could understand that every now and then any Village might have a bad week or two.

With a nod Lady excused herself from Keiko, Hinata and Tomomi. It was time for her to marshall her kin and prepare them for the walk to Market. From one to another to another she went, making sure they were ready and had wares to trade. Some were told about costs and what they needed to bring back, others had more specific tasks to take on. Such as a certain Raccoon lass and a Mouse, who were to act in Lady's stead.

Finally she clapped her hands and a portion of her Family gathered around.

“It’s time for Market …”

Which, then, left a simple, single, yet unanswered question floating upon the air.

One Fang, the lanky wuff, just smiled. His head tilted as her reached over, placed a strong hand on the top of Lyric’s head and just ruffled her hair. It was a very wuffish thing to do.

“Grrrrrr … donnae you be goin’ soft on me.”

His strong hand fell, rested on her shoulder and was quickly matched his other hand, so he could turn Lyric around to look at the others of the Pack.

“Of course it means you are stuck with them too.”

He looked to one in particular, the smaller black one, the one who fought with two daggers, their vanguard. One Fang raised a hand and simply pointed at Lyric. The Guardian chuffed out a single breath followed by a single syllable.

“Wuff.”

Standing behind her, One Fang rested his head atop Lyric’s.

"I think that kind of settles it, ja?"

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Wolf Offline OP
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The Dirkwood Forest
Waverider’s Watch
Marketday, the Ninth Day of Yrick[/b]

Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … Tomomi, Hinata Cat, One Fang, Broke and Wuff-Wuff and Dominic and Miss Emerald …

“The Squire?”

One of the Rats waited for them at the piers. He was in charge of the boats it seemed, a fisher-rat for Home.

“He took one of those coracle boats yesterday. In a rush to get back to the real world or so her said. I told him to stay in the center of the Blackwater. I hope he listened.”

For those who remained, - Keiko, Lyric, Bekkah and Cesare – they were gifted a ride on the Dirkwood village’s little fleet of punts. As opposed to their trek into the Forest this time it was much more luxurious – each punt even had a Rat gondolier to ensure a smooth trip. Tomomi chose to let the river do the work instead of her feet. Dominic and Miss Emmi traveled that way too. Hinata was a cat and thus walked alone. Well, to tell the truth, not truly alone but far enough away he could claim he walked alone without getting left behind or lost.

The rest? They took the Forest Path. They were still children of Mother ature so they were –relatively – safe against the Dirkwood’s fangs. There had been a debate, as to whether Soft could have kept those near her safe – but it was to remain an interesting speculation - her place, today, was with the newest members of Home’s now very extended family.

Even though they couldn’t see them, they knew the Pack followed along the river shore. The Blackwater did get wide in places but never enough to put them outside of One Fang’s range. The bow he was using was good and he had a quiver full of arrows, but both were obviously replacements. Before they had left the Archer had had an odd conversation with Lady.

I lost my good bow and all my arrowheads at the Keep …

Ja.

Can we afford three bars from our stores for new?

No worries. We will not be running out anytime soon. The Mice say the vaults survived; we should not have been surprised. The Old Masters valued their treasures much more than their own lives.

They never did find out the Mice had been borrowing from them ever since The Lockpick conjured out the way in.


Eventually the canopy thinned.

Finally there was just blue sky above. They could hear the creaking of the mill, see the Talantal banner snapping in the breeze atop its little tower. There were already merchants waiting along the hard packed path that served as a road. They were waiting patiently, as through the picket the Forest Folk came to trade.

The Pack – if you knew where to look - were easily spotted.

And last, there was the tempting aroma of freshly baked meat pies upon the breeze.

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Lyric, No matter how far you go, Home will always be in your Heart

The Minstrel sat quietly now as the old and dangerous Dirkwood thinned. This remnant of the Great Forest of the World bore the weight of a God's lonely and angry curse and Lyric could not now mourn it any less than when she first drifted through the shadows of the boughs on her way to Home. It pained her to feel this darkness and weight upon this place.

She had sung and played a few songs, lively tunes to lift spirits and to offer the sound of life and hope and maybe a bit of joy out from herself into this vengeful wildwood. But now, she was quiet and reflective as there came more and more evidence of an end to the forest.

Of the things lost and gained, things lost came to mind first.

Kadri had fallen. Defiant and determined. She had a very clear sense of the order of the World and where she felt she belonged within it. What more could she have done? And earlier than that, Mikal had left the group before she ever had the chance to know him. And then, without a farewell, Squire 'Ser' Pietro had departed from Home by himself. This was something she did not understand, and didn't know the questions to ask of others about this. She knew she would miss him. His was a gentle nature, steadfast and true. So much of him was so different than her, but he seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of patience and Lyric appreciated his kindness as well.

And, sadly, there was more loss.

Tawny and Grey had fallen as well. What more could she have done? The Pack had resolved itself to a final stand before she got there and, in that frame of heart, two of their number had already fallen so that many more might live. She did what she had to do to change the odds and their fate, and also change that frame of heart. What she did was a grave risk to herself, and against the intent of the careful and wise words of the One who sent her to seek a Song.

Lyric reflected on that aspect for a length of time, seemingly lost to the world around her. What more could she have done? Better yet, What else could she have done? She was not forbidden to use her magic, but she understood the risks and the consequences and that was the intent of words of caution given to her before she left her own home to start this journey.

What is done is done. This was the Here and the Now. She would do it again... and again, to help those who needed help. Dark design and ill-hearted intent must never be allowed to prevail where there is even a mote of courage and resolve remaining, to do the right thing and stand in opposition.

Things gained?

Friends. Hard to add more to that. She never really had any friends before. Such is not the way of her people. Allies, yes? Acquaintances, for certain... but Friends? Not really. But she had them now and she wanted very much to be as a good a friend to each of them as they were to her.

A sense of belonging and the trust with which that came. It was a concept of family that was deeper and stronger that oaths and vows. And, an experience that came with laughter and happiness and tears and sorrow, emotions that comforted her and also grieved her. In her poetic, bardic view of herself and the world around her this was like a tiny flame being sparked on the open and barren, windswept plain that was her heart and soul and now she nurtured it, and protected it, treasured it even, both the good and the bad, the happy and the sad.

She sighed deeply, contentedly, and felt comfortable with her choices. She had done all she could and tried to do even more. That it wasn't enough, and that perfection could not be achieved taught her a valuable lesson about the precious nature of life, and the value of sacrifice. Lessons that she now realized were steps taken on the Path to finding a Song to save her People.

Her quiet and peace now gave her a moment to think back upon two conversations of farewell. She approached each, addressing them with profound respect, but speaking as one who also had a wisdom beyond her years.

To the Lady, whose grace and presence seemed to dwarf that of anyone else around her, even the mighty Wrath, or the wily Dominic, Lord of All He Surveys. She smiled at her own jesting thoughts. Dom might even chuckle himself at such a turn of words to describe him. To the Lady she said a number of things in gratitude, but also left her with a warning. If any of the Old Masters or the Dwarves survived, for it was never the plan to kill them directly but only as necessary as a part of the larger goal of freeing the enslaved souls trapped within the evil keep, then there could be a lingering threat to the peace of Home. The hope that the forest would consume them was an ideal and fitting end for the horror they inflicted upon it, but in truth, they had survived the forest for too long as it was and might well be able to survive it again until they escaped it altogether. Be wary and vigilant.

To Soft, the New Priestess and Den Mother to the Pack, of which she now belonged she reminded her of a lesson she was surely familiar with now. Take care in the use of magical energy. It is tied to your soul and it is a part of you. Use too much and you, well... you know what happens now.

There was a moment where she thought about Wuff-Wuff. She saw some similarities between herself and the Vanguard Wuff. Both of them were small and agile. Both of them could surprise the unsuspecting or the overconfident. And both of them found that a blade in each hand suited their style, skills, and personality best. In as many ways as they were different, the things of commonality seemed stronger to her right now.

Lyric would make her farewells to the pack at the treeline and to One Fang at the end of the Market Day. In truth she had already said what needed to be said to him and so the farewell might actually have few words and many emotions. But that was not Now and this was a time of reflection in preparation for What Was To Come.

Lyric had taken a few minutes to remove the damaged armor and to give it a cursory cleaning before leaving in the coracles and punts. But a true and proper cleaning and the much needed repairs would have to wait until they returned to Waverider's Reach. She had bathed as best she could, but the dank grime of the depths and the blood, hers and One Fang's and that of twisted and angry Weasel, and especially the wash of demagicked Dragon's blood, could not be cleaned away so easily. A proper bath would also have to wait until Waverider's Reach. She wore more proper travelling clothes, tunic, breeches and boots for now.

At some point she felt the sun on her face and opened her eyes to see the blue sky. The time for reflection was past. The journey to the Reach had nearly come to an end, but a bigger journey awaited. There would be new experiences and new adventures.

Lyric awaited the moment they would step out of the punts and she looked about her for her other companions. They would be travelling with Tomomi and the Cat Person who had been rescued and that was sure to be an interesting adventure all by itself.

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Cesare

He leans back in the small boat, happy to be at the mercy of its rat skipper. A long moment of quiet. He closes his eyes but still sees the patterns of light on his eyelids as the boat glides beneath the trees, the soft tinkle of the water providing its own lullaby to the weary travellers.

He pictures the people no longer with them. Pietro whom he would have liked to have known better, whose path has taken him in a different direction for reasons unknown to Cesare. Kadri who had traveeled his wave for sometime now. He remembers her teachings, her bravery, her spontaneity and is sad that her journey had ended. Most of all though he misses Mikal. The warrior had taught him much, introduced him to the crossbow, lead him by example into many a fight, never shirking what he saw as his role, his duty. Yes, he misses Mikal. But the Winds of Fate have a habit of bringing folk back into your path when you least expect it. Maybe they will meet again?

His path stretches out before him. Currently it is shrouded in mist, unclear in its direction and its content.. but that is life. And it is exciting. It can bring adversity.. but also friendship, trouble but also fun, danger but also safe havens. But always it brings variety and lessons to learn.. and he finds himself eager for the next one.

He needs to talk to the others to find out their plans. He has a mind to travel with his kinswoman for a while longer. He feels their is much he can learn from her. Lyric too, she has surprised him over the last few days and he wants to learn more about her. And Bekkah. Bekkah is the last of his old companions. A serene soul with so much to give. And she has given him back life at times he might have lost it. How could he not want to travel further with her?

But these are his feelings. He knows they may not be shared and that maybe his journey will be more singular in this next stretch?

But he hopes not...

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Keiko
[pronounced KAY-ko]

The Market was quite a bit different when seen from the Forest Folks’ point of view. As Keiko left the Forest with Tomomi at her side and Hinata nearby while at the same time trying remain aloof, she saw the people of Waverider’s Watch and the merchants as more of an outsider than she had her first Marketday all those months ago. The Pack moved into their protective ring, Broke the only truly obvious one on the stairs overlooking the field.

She knew that Lady would teach Hinata how to interact with human people. She suspected that the merchants would not be prepared for his delight in bargaining. She had never seen much beyond straightforward transactions when observing the Market in the past. And Keiko knew Tomomi was experienced at trading, so she didn’t worry about her friend.

And that just left her with... with what? She looked up at the mill and knew that visiting the Miller and his wife was something she had to do. She glanced at Missus Heatherson and her meat pies, her mouth watering at the thought of them. She had enough pennies to purchase several — one for Broke, of course, because that had become something of a ritual; one for Hinata simply for the experience of something new and hopefully delicious; and one to share with Tomomi.

Looking beyond Missus Heatherson, she scanned the rest of the merchants. Perhaps one of them had ribbons; Hinata seemed to like them. But a proper ribbon for the Cat would have to compliment his coloring. It couldn’t be just any ribbon.

Did she need anything for their upcoming journey that she didn’t already have? Other than trail rations, there probably wasn’t anything beyond what was already in her pack and the things she’d left in the Millers’ loft.

Where were they going? What path would they take? Dawnview, it would seem, was an ultimate goal. The question remained, then, what route to take. It would be dangerous and foolhardy to retrace her journey on the Forest Path back to the Road East. That left only two ways to reach the Highland Path. They could go south to the Big Village — Talesan’s Village — and then east to Talantal, Bordertown, Brementown, and Cragside before going up through the Highgaard Reaches to Snowgate Pass and Dawnview. Or they could take the overland route, the Flowered Path, to Bordertown and beyond.

The calendar might dictate their route, for it was rough traveling in the mountains in winter. Snowgate Pass was closed entirely, and the Highgaard Reaches would be less hospitable than the Road East. Even on that route, most Caravans chose to spend the worst of the winter season somewhat settled.

It was a discussion that would have to wait, at least for a little while. Keiko didn’t know if Cesare or Lady Bekkah planned to join her and Lyric — and Tomomi and Hinata, apparently. It would be interesting, to be sure.

So that left her with the question... what now? She looked around for Lord Tone Deaf but didn’t immediately see him. She would like to know his opinion. She knew the routes of several Caravans, including her Family’s, and had to keep in mind the elders’ dictate that she avoid them all. It made the Flowered Path the best route for avoiding her kin. Was there also a practical, political reason to avoid Talesan’s Village and Talantal? Dommi would know.

She smiled and whispered to Tomomi, “Happy Marketday, my friend! I’ll meet you in a little while.”

Keiko traced Broke’s path up the stairs, passed the Pack leader, and continued up to the mill. She set down her pack near the door, took off her cloak and draped it over the pack, kicked off as much dirt from her boots as she could, then entered the Millers’ home. Keiko smiled at Missus Miller’s industrious preparations for the day’s main meal for her and Mister Miller. At the moment, she was just about finished pounded on the bread dough. She’d marveled at the efficiency of the woman’s movements when she’d first arrived — it reminded her of her grandmother preparing dough for baking. After the kneading came the final folding and a towel to cover it all while the dough rose.

“Missus Miller.”

She half skipped, half danced over to the woman who tried to be so gruff but opened her home to a stray Rhoni girl. Keiko hugged Missus Miller, not caring about flour-covered hands or apron.

“Thank you.”

Two words that didn’t seem to be sufficient for the gratitude she felt — for the kindness, the acceptance, the example of who the good people are — these were the only give Keiko could give her right now. And the bread-making miller’s wife was a touchstone in a world where the horrors of ancient Dwarves and Imperials were part of a far distant wave.

The Rhoni lass didn’t need to read her Cards to know that endings meant new beginnings... to know that new beginnings needed endings.


"Everything is bad except unicorns." -- Phoebe
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Wolf Offline OP
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The Heartwood
The Dirkwood Forest
Waverider’s Watch
Marketday, the Ninth Day of Yrick


Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … Tomomi, Hinata Cat, One Fang, Broke and Wuff-Wuff and Dominic and Miss Emerald …

“Dominic …”

Miss Emmi stirred. She had been leaning back, wrapped up in a black cloak, letting the Blackwater drift them from Forest to village. The young Korie lordling was stretched out , leaning back on one of the punt’s simple board seats, his feet propped up on the other.

“Uh … huh …”

He had his eyes closed, taking in the sun and how could one not be comfortable with a green-eyed Mouse?

“Dominic …”

Miss Emmi spoke again, just her head peeking out from their protectively comfortable cocoon. The Mouse’s eyes narrowed when all she got back was a sleepy mumbling.

“… mmmmmmmmhhhmmmmmm …”

Which was followed by a poke, then another, then another then another. Poking, it seemed, was always very serious business for Mice.

“Dominic … WE ARE DRIFTING PAST THE VILLAGE!”

The two vanished under the little wooden bridge. Not a heartbeat later, from the shadows beneath the bridge came a sudden squawk and splash.

About that time the boats made shore. At the least, all the boats but Dommi’s. As they climbed up the steep bank, their arrival could not help but cause a stir. Not just from the those who were brave enough – or wanted coin that much – to set up a wagon of wares for the Forest Folk but those who held back, the ones on the other side of the Bridge. Those were the merchants who were looking forward to tomorrow’s more mundane trading. The latter and their guards were the ones who became the most obvious, pointing at the boats and the folks getting out. That some of the Forest Folk had taken boats, that was unusual by itself. But that others – others not Forest Folk, not wearing travel cloaks – had somehow come out of The Dirkwood alive, that was a completely different matter.

That was new. It was very new. It was inconceivable.

So inconceivable that a very large man, dressed in tunics that were trimmed in gold and silver key patterns, wearing a long cloak trimmed with merebeast fur and held by a finely crafted broach, broke off from the greater collection of merchants, his destination obvious - to cross the bridge and enter the Village proper. Keiko recognized not the man but the type, having seen several of the markets at Waverider’s Watch. He was probably the eldest merchant, the one who organized these excursions for rare goods and a chance to procure a helping of darksteel..

Of course, a rough looking man in non-descript armor followed him. That was probably his personal Jvrillian guard.

There were other people watching. Atop the Rock, in front of the Mill, the fierce Miller’s wife was observing who came out of the wood this day, obviously noting the return of the boats. When her sharp gaze accounted for a certain Rhoni lass she turned and entered the Mill. A little later the Miller himself showed up, setting out sacks of flour for the day’s trade.

A single tall Forest Folk, the one with a long black sword walked halfway up the path to the Mill. That was Broke, taking up her place where she could look over the afternoon’s activities. She also attracted the attention of the Jvrillian guard, but a touch of a commanding hand from the Merchant kept him still. Those who traveled to this place on a regular basis knew that it was never the Forest Folk who broke the One Rule. He also probably was quite aware that that the Guardians never traveled alone, and while the others of the Pack were not apparent they were probably somewhere close. Those from the boats knew this was true. One Fang was watching from the tree line while Wuff-Wuff was small and light framed enough to pass as any other of her Kin when wearing her travel cloak.

“I’ll get us meat pies and I have never been beyond the Village before. Maybe I need pouches? Maybe one of those real big pouches you carry on your back?”

Tomomi bounced on her heels as she considered her purchases. Like all of the Forest Folk – even Hinata – she had been given a bit of coin to spend. Hers and Mister Cat’s allowance was a bit heavier than the others, as they had better reasons for spending.

“No!”

Two of the Forest Folk suddenly appeared beside the cat-person. They were the two odd sisters – the Raccoon lass and her Mouse companion.

“Bad cat! Keep your hood up!”

Hinata had been in the middle of a tug to bare his head, only to be quickly corrected. Lady had stayed back at Home, so it was these two who had been trusted with taking care of their kin. It was, however, Tomomi who explained why hoods were good as she snared a shocked cat-person’s sleeve to tug him forward.

"Squeak! It’s not because we are ashamed at all, but it’s for respect of the other folks. We want to be good neighbors or they’d be all scared at us – even me - and not trade us nice things. You like nice things, right? Burned Fish. Ribbons. And Tomomi will show you practical things too. Like knives and spoons and combs. They know we really, really like combs. Tomomi will teach!”

Like a little sister she nodded to her two elders and then took Hinata shopping. It was odd. Of all things the big fierce cat seemed as wary of the merchants and farmers as they were of this new and very large Forest Folk. Very much like any other slink in a new field. The farmers, however, relaxed visibly when they saw him took in tow by one of the smallest.

Broke was quiet as Keiko passed her on the stairs, returned to her traditional duties. The pack leader wasn’t standing at her usual landing; she had tarried on a lower one – probably in response to the small group of merchants that were crossing the wooden bridge. The Merchant and his guard had gained the company of a few others – probably the Merchant’s apprentices and their guards. This would bring more swords into the market than normal, which in turn deserved closer than normal attention.

The Miller, he just smiled, as Keiko entered his house. She had better not have cared about being flour dusted. Each time the Miller set down a large sack a cloud of white was also kicked up.

Inside it seemed that the Miller’s Wife had been preparing for the midday meal. It would soon be noon and Her light at it’s highest. She let out a grumpy sigh as she saw the Rhoni stand at the door.

“So. I guess I now have to be setting extra plates.”

The sudden skip and hug did take her by surprise. For a long moment the gruff woman just looked down at the lass who had so strongly attached herself.

“Words. Bah. Words and a penny will get you a pastry come Marketday. You want to thank me? Were you ever taught how to make snacking rolls? Fine. Show me.”

She took a step aside, giving Keiko room at the kitchen table.

“So.

“How many plates do we need to set out now?”

When she thought Keiko wasn’t looking, Missus Miller smiled.

Cesare saw Keiko head up the stairs to the top of the Waverider’s watch. This left him with a choice – to follow, as the Rhoni was kin and was certainly one their group who seemed to move with a purpose or peruse the Market looking for goods to help carry them on their next step. There was much to choose from.

That was something that Lyric was discovering too. She had never really seen a Market before; trading for her was something that was a matter of clan ties and feudal responsibility rather than somewhat free enterprise. That folks would line a road with carts and offer goods for trade was some what new. Of course she knew that coin could buy things and was often used in payment for work done, it was more a case of a weaver making their bolts of tartan and then turning them over to their oath-bound lord rather than selling the cloth to just anyone.

What sold and traded at this market? As best Lyric could tell the locals sold simple goods – food they had raised or collected, critters for meat or milk, food they had made to feed those coming to market. The river bed was a source of clay, so they sold a good amount of pottery too. What they were buying from the foreign merchants were everyday goods; cloth for clothing, flatware and candle tins from the tinker, threads and needles or larger items made in Talesan’s Village and beyond.

What made this a profitable and desired Market, however, was what the Forest Folk brought; treasure from the Dirkwood Forest. Meat and leather, merebeast fur, rare herbs and medicinal plants, odd Forest spices and then, of course, those far older item scavenged from those who died in the cursed wood, ages past. She faced a similar choice as Cesare. To follow Keiko, to shop from the collection of wagons and tables, or perhaps become part of the Occurrence.

The Occurrence was something that had not happened before. Forest had offered up a brand new treasure this day. And, of course, it had but one focus. How could it not?

Keiko and Cesare were both Rhoni; they mattered little in comparison to the others. The Forest Folk, one could be allowed to trade with them, because that was their God Given geas – to travel the world conduct the business of buying and selling. That was how Their People survived the Shattering – providing the goods the rest of the broken world needed to survive. But it was unseemly, disgusting and heretical – or at least it used to be heretical – to actually engage the Forest Folk.

They had a minstrel, true. But minstrels were not to be trusted – they were, in the grand scheme of things, Marrennen’s competition. Both traded information.

That left only one. And this one was unmistakable; not only was this one was Imperial, this one was an approachable Imperial.

Thus it was that the Marrennen Priest – the Master of the Market – crossed the bridge and came straight away to the Lady Bekkah Yurisdotter.

“My Dear!”

The large man spoke both loudly and perhaps a bit too familiarly, but also friendly like.

“You must have had some marvelous adventure, to becoming from such a Cursed Wood, from boating down the fierce Blackwater. Am I correct that you are – as must be – returning from Within The Forest itself? That you have managed to not only entered this Place of Legend and then – as we see now before us – returned?

“Come come come …”

He swept his hand, indicating the small encampment on the other side of the river.

“Please join us for lunch. We would gladly hear your tale of how such a thing was possible. We shall have the best meat and bread prepared, along with wine suitable to a Fine Lady’s taste.

“What could have driven a Beautiful Woman as your self into such a Dark Place? Was it in Service to your Beloved Goddess? How did you Survive the Dangers of Tree and Beast? How did these Ill-Formed Creatures aid you and Why? Did you See Where they Live and Keep Their Treasures?

“They have – As any with Our Sight can Tell – Have Changed? How could Something Like This have Occurred? Your Lady is one of Mercy; How did such as these come to deserve Her Touch? Are They now your Thralls?

“Did You Visit any of The Three Mysteries? The Black Heart of the Blackwater? The Shadow of The Last Army? The Grave of the Most Brave and Lost Prince?

“Come come come … we have so much to talk about! Surely after such an Experience, let us provide you with Rest and Repast.”

Bekkah had become the center of attention.

Which was very fine for the last of their returning group.

Finally, while everyone’s attention was directed elsewhere, from the shore at the base of the Bridge two figures climbed up the bank. The shorter one followed the only-slightly-taller one, her steps lighter, almost a skip, as the other – in his black cloak – left wet footprints in his wake. They were bound up to the Tower, because, well, this was Dominic’s village after all, he at least needed to look into the Tower for more than just dry clothes.

And the very last thing Dominic wanted was the Marrennen busybodies discovering that there was a Noble in the neighborhood.

It did mean, however, that through the open door, Keiko would catch a glimpse of the Korie and his bodyguard as they tried to sneak past.


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Cesare

His eyes follow Keiko's climb and he does consider following, not because it is a kinsman's duty to assist a kinswoman but because he is curious as to where she is going. After all he has little experience of being a kinsman. But he figures that she is likely visiting the folk who live here as she had been staying here before the rest of them arrived. So giving her space and privacy, at least initially, seems a considerate thing to do.

He surveys the market, Bekkah and the approach of other merchants and his eyes finally rest on Lyric.

"Fancy a look at what is on offer? I know the meat pies well deserve their reputation."

He smiles. It might be a good opportunity to discuss future plans too.

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Lyric, the overly curious

The return to Waverider's Reach brought a journey full circle. The circle was an important concept among her people. Never ending because it is never beginning. It just is, and everything that once was will be again. Or something like that.

Lyric wondered what she might do with her time. Keiko had departed to the place where Lyric had been given a place to sleep when she arrived. The house with the gears and the spindles. Keiko spent much time there, that much was evident in the relatiobship that Lyric was invited to witness. But this was not one of those times where Lyric was invited. Tomomi and the Big Cat that Keiko had befriended were also not brought along. Thus the Minstrel believed that friend Keiko needed the space to be alone. And that Lyric accepted. She understood what being alone meant. She, herself, had spent more time in her own life alone than she could possibly hope to remember. Then again, alone time was not always about thinking and remembering. Sometimes it was about being alone.

So what tasks might remain? There were the mundane but necessary things. Her armor required more cleaning, deeper cleaning... and some repairs as well. But that was boring. Necessary... but boring. Lyric wanted to be amused. She wanted to smile, maybe laugh... she wanted to smell something she had never smelled before, see something her eyes had never witnessed before. Yes... But what?

She stood for a time, a short time, surveying the village and the market and those who wandered it. She looked at those merchanters who kept a distance but made the effort to approach the priestess. They seemed to shun her, and overlook the Rhoni... but, instead the familiar Imperial Priestess was the avenue they used to make contact and connection.

It was in those thoughts and considerations that Lyric found herself, when Cesare addressed her with an invitation. She still looked out across the market for a moment or two longer, and then turned her head quickly to regard the handsome young Rhoni. Her smile was one part innocence and two parts eager anticipation. But there was something else too. That glint in her eye that was mercurial chaos waiting to be unleashed.

"I do, indeed."

Lyric beamed and clapped her hands together thrice as though her happiness needed a measure and beat. The first step to close the distance to her escort was very nearly a hop and then a skip. Already she was anticiapting the new experience that was ahead of her. There might even be some flowers to smell... and sinno-man bread to buy.

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Bekkah

She wondered what this day would be like. A lot had changed. She wondered if they'd go without their hoods now. She wondered if the people of this village could see the difference that she saw. She was smiling as she trailed the group from the boats only to be greeted boisterously by the large priest.

She let him go on before accepting his offer, following him back to his people.

"So many questions." She began, her radiant smile in place.

"The easiest of which is why. And yes, as you guessed, I was in the forest on behalf of my Goddess. And yes, their change is because my Lady granted her mercy upon them. And no, they are definitely not my thralls. They are free souls. They are a good and honorable folk and should be treated as such at all times."

"As for the rest of your many questions, that will take some time. Perhaps over wine and a light meal. I have seen much, but there are many who could answer you even better than I could for I did not enter where others did."

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Cesare

His grin matches her expression as she accepts his invitation. Maybe she feels as he does in that he wants to push the responsibilities and cares to one side, at least for an afternoon. Yesterday was a heavy day in many ways, adding weight to their souls and today he wants to be carefree at least for a while.

He crooks his arm so she may slide hers through his, his eyes twinkling.

"So what first.. a stroll to look at wares, a delicious meat pie.. or something else of your choosing?"

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Lyric, wondering about an old idiom regarding curiosity

Lyric the Minstrel cocked her head at Cesare, as he posed with his arm crooked and then realized what he was offering. That realization was like watching a child discover something. Her eyes grew round and she smiled even more broadly. She 'bounced' on the balls of her small feet and slipped her arm in as though they would now both skip along together and sing a song.

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Cesare

As Lyric has yet to express her preference but has happily slipped her arm through his, he heads for the meat pies, remembering how good they were last time. Never one to refuse the opportunity for good food, it is maybe surprising he is as slim as he is. Probably something to do with his high energy levels!

And it is a while since he has walked.. skipped along with a girl on his arm.. and it feels good. There are times he misses Darian but today is not one of them. And he will happily join in any song that Lyric starts.

So like a couple of happy kids, they follow the scent of pies to their source.

"Two pies please?"

And of course all the forest folk are around them but this day it is very different because in their own way they are part of the forest folk now, not separate and distant as they were on the last Market Day.

A good feeling.

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OOC: sorry Gypsy- There was supposed to be more to that post. I must have gotten distracted at work and forgot i hadn't finished it. I will do a work around for it though... but the odd part is that Lyric is so weird it is still in character.

Lyric

His question was seemingly ignored, but watching the wonderment with which she viewed this whole open market environment was certainly explanation enough.

With wide eyes and a smile that was never completely gone, but flashed broadly at each new cart or table or wagon, Lyric danced along to a beat in her own head... but it was not a tough one to follow.

Sometimes she even turned around, twisting against Cesare's arm but not letting her own slip free of his escorting crook. She lifted up on her toes at times to see what was ahead, as if the extra inch or two added to her small stature might actually enable her to see that much farther ahead.

At Cesare's direction, Lyric was led to a seller of meat pies. A merchant? What did one call a person who made and sold meat pies? That was a question that Lyric might easily ponder for a long time, but not just now. She stared intently at the delicacy being purchased by the young Rhoni man. It was difficult to contain her eagerness, but formalities such as the exchange of coin were customary it seemed before the meat pie would be in her hands. Lyric believed she had eaten one of these, or something similar, when she stayed at the Mill, but it might as well have the very first time given the way she started into the handheld delight.

Yes, Lyric was odd and it was certainly not something she hid from view. Peeling it open was quite like a child unwrapping a gift. In fact, she reveled in the moments where she experienced something different or new and touching her tongue to the exposed center of the pie was no different. It made her shudder and she closed her eyes to see the colors of the taste in her imagination. She ate the food whilst turning in a circle, oblivious to the world around her for those moments of joy.

And then she was back, arm and arm, with Cesare to visit the next merchanter.

At one point, not long after the 'meat pie extravaganza' Lyric did indeed slip free of Cesare at the sight of hand made flower circlets, quite similar to the kind she was wearing when she first arrived in the company of the Squire. She ran to them like a child in awe. She leaned over the table to smell all the smells, and then each of the smells. Then all the smells together again.

She drew out a small coin purse with a draw string that she had tucked inside the waistline of her breeches. The price was given to her when she pointed at one circlet in particular and she seemed to stare at the coins in her hand as if she was not sure how to come by that price with coins she possessed. or maybe she didn't really understand the value of the Imperial coins. Cesare should certainly remember that Lyric said she came from a remote village that was secluded and aggressively reclusive.

That awkward moment dragged out as Lyric tried to fathom the coins against the merchant's requested price. She glanced at Cesare with a helpless look and a shrug.

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[OOC No probs grin ]

Cesare

Very happy to have such a delightful and carefree companion, Cesare paid the merchant for both pies, waving away Lyric's offer with a grin.

"Just enjoy."

And she does. Strangely he enjoys his pie more this time around, probably the company though maybe just because he is hungry. Wasting none of it, wiping up a dribble of gravy on his chin with his finger, he then licks his fingers clean.

He watches her with a smile as she looks at the flower circlets, her delight infectious. When she struggles with the coins, he steps forward and points to the two she will need to give the merchant, before stepping back to let her make her purchase. Again he is ready to offer his arm whilst all around them the forest folk make their own trades. Magical...

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Lyric, minstrels must minstrel

Lyric smiled for Cesare and relaxed when he singled out the coins she needed. Some things, mundane things, simple things to everyone else, where complicated for Lyric. She paused a moment at that last merchant though. Her coins in one hand, a circlet in the other, and her innocent and happy smile became one of mischief. She place the woven flower circlet atop her head and glanced back and forth between her waiting escort and the table of circlets. That smile of mischief was playful and she even bit lightly at her lower lip as she gauged her own courage to proceed. And then the choice was made and Lyric separated the same size coins again and purchased another circlet.

In a twirl with a flourish steps she danced and skipped around the Rhoni, unconcerned with the spectacle she made of herself. It was innocence and frivolity that led her to place the circlet on Cesare's head and slip the mandolin from her back to the front. She tuned while making the next twirl or two and started to play a lively dancing jig that she was creating on the move... that might have sounded like this-




and then another, as she drifted from one table of wares to another wagon...



Pausing to engage merchants and residents and especially the Forest Folk, Lyric played and danced. Shifting from one song to the next with tunes that were plaintive and sad, to one of joy and happiness. She orbited Cesare though for she anchored her minstreling around him as she flitted and fluttered with a seeming careless abandon. Her happiness would be infectious for any who allowed themselves to be at ease and relax enough to notice that market day could be more than just a day of commerce. It might well become of day to celebrate as well.



And at one point Lyric stopped her dancing and she walked a few steps to give herself a clear line of sight to the forest. She stood for a time looking out into the treeline with mandolin in hand. This day was a parting of ways and though farewells had already been shared Lyric could never truly leave, at least not in her heart. She was a part of them and they were a part of her now.





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Cesare

Often he dances as Lyric plays, dancing together at times but always to compliment each other. And he accepts his circlet with a smile. This day reminds him of one in the past when they had arrived at a settlement when there was a fair. He together with his Ma, his Aunt and his Uncle had danced almost until they had dropped. In some ways they had become part of the entertainment, one of the times he had felt welcomed by the locals and a really fond memory of his mother, seeing her almost a girl again, how she must have appeared to his father and he could understand the love they had shared.

Then he stood and listened as she played to the forest.

Once she had finished, he moves a few steps closer and whispers in all seriousness.

"You do realise that in Rhoni custom this.." he points to the circlet "..means that we are betrothed."

He looks at her, his eyes wide before his face cracks and he starts laughing.

"Sorry, couldn't resist.."

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Lyric, getting punk'd

Lyric finished playing and paused to hear that last note fade away, given over to the forest and those of the pack, one in particular, who waited just within the treeline.

With Cesare's words whispered in her ear, her head came around sharply, suddenly, as she took an involuntary step sideways just to gain her balance.

He laughed, as if he played at a joke... or was he laughing at her? Or was this part of a Rhoni custom?

Sorry? resist what?

It was worthwhile to note that Lyric had struggled in the past with other words when spoke quickly, and at times she paused when responding. It was possible that Imperial Common was not her first language, and that while she seemed to have a decent grasp of it, there were a few times when she didn't

"Realise? No... Wait... What? Betrothed?"

Her eyes were as wide as saucers. The word she repeated was spoken as though she was trying to understand it, or translate it.

"As in Handfasted?" There was almost a panic in her eyes.

And his laughter, which might only grow at her confusion and apparent consternation, gave her pause to consider that he was indeed teasing her.

Lyric cocked her head a little and looked at him, before offering a thin smile in return to make sure this was a jest. Her eyes searched his, seeking a truth to add to her suspicion.

"Teasing me?"

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Cesare

"Yes Lyric, teasing you."

He is still chuckling, obviously pleased with his joke.

"Come on, I need a drink. There is a seller over there that has some lightly spiced cider. It is very good. Let's get some?"

He offers her a hand this time, his eyes looking into hers.

"Am I forgiven my tease?"

The smile is still broad though, even as the laughter has subsided.

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Lyric

Lyric regarded him with a fake glare of disapproval. Lips pursed tightly in an exaggerated frown and eyes narrowed as he asked for forgiveness. But she couldn't hold it very long and the frown gave way to a straight smile and a 'what am I going to do with you' shake of her head. She swatted his left arm with her right hand though. A just punishment perhaps.

"Yes, of course you are... But you had me worried," she said as she turned to walk beside him toward this merchant of 'lightly spiced cider'... whatever that was.

"I was worried you might be serious... just for a moment though. You see, I no longer have a clan. I am exiled from my people, my home... everything."

"Besides, I am Banished," she added as if it were more a title than an adjective, or at the very least a term for an entirely different form of punishment than being just exiled.

And then she looked ahead of her and no longer at him, and the subject changed with the same mercurial speed that a breeze might come up when before there was none.

"What is spiced cider?"

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Cesare

He is still enjoying their 'moment' when Lyric tells him something of her status. He stops, eyes haunted for a moment and then he hugs her, hard.

"Their loss.."

He mutters fiercely, deliberately avoiding asking about the circumstances. If she wanted to tell him, she would.

He releases her and the smile is back.

"But you are not on your own now.. and besides this gives us something in common. I am estranged from my people too. I grw up with my mother, Aunt and Uncle as we effectively went on the run when I was a small boy. Keiko is the first Rhoni I have ever met to talk to."

He takes her hand as they move again towards the cider seller.

"Well cider is a drink brewed from apples and then spices are added. Cinnamon I think and maybe nutmeg. But it has a nice taste and is light and refreshing.. though it is alcoholic."

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

“If you’d like to invite new friends to dinner, that would, of course, be just the thing a hospitable woman such as yourself would do. And yes, I’ve made snack cakes. I learned from my uncle, so if I do things differently, that would be why!

“Tomomi would likely come find me, and bring our new friend Hinata. He’s...” She paused with furrowed brows. “...difficult to describe except to say that he is one of the Forest Folk, he has a good heart and tries not to let anyone see it. Oh, and he’s quite fond of fish. And ribbons. But he seems to be adventurous enough to try new food, which is a good thing. Lady has decreed that he will watch over Tomomi, who has decided that she must travel along with me as I continue my journey. That will not be today, of course.”

Keiko was happy to help Missus Miller with the mid-day meal. Baking, cooking... it was familiar and soothing. She smiled as she recalled Tomomi’s enthusiasm about shopping for her journey into the World beyond the Forest. She’d never seen a rucksack as small as the sort Tomomi would be able to carry. Of course, that didn’t mean the merchants didn’t have such a thing.

“I believe the Marrennen has whisked Lady Bekkah away. I don’t know what plans Lyric and Cesare have made. Perhaps to eat their way through the market. So... two? Tomomi can share with me again. Or four?”

She was just dusting the snack cakes with a small amount of sugar when she spied Lord Tone Deaf trying to sneak by the door. She giggled and called out to him.

“Dommi! Do you have a moment? I have some questions for you and Emmi.”

She looked back up at Missus Miller while waiting for Dommi to do his best not to make the biggest mess ever in her kitchen, then turned to him and smiled.

“Oh, I’ll clean up after you. I don’t mind. After I finish with putting the snack cakes together, of course.

“Missus Miller is in a quandary. As you know, she is ever so kind and gracious and wanted to know how many plates to set out for the meal. I completely understand why you would want to avoid the keen eye of the Marrennen Priest — he is a Priest, isn’t he? They always seem more well-fed than the journeymen and apprentices. But if Emmi would be so kind as to inquire of Lyric’s and Cesare’s plans, we might be able to give Missus Miller a proper answer.”

She grinned at him. Not once in all her nineteen years had she ever conceived of the idea that a Noble might be a friend to a wandering Rhoni. But Dommi was definitely that, as was Emmi.

“You, m’Lord, are a mess. And you smell like the Blackwater. We can’t have the likes of you sitting at a table with us until you’ve cleaned yourself up.” She winked at him. “But it seems to me that the potential number of plates might be greater than the available space at the Millers’ table. You are a great thinker on matters of such great importance.”

Keiko laughed as she set the baking stone to the side and wiped her hands on the too-large spare apron Missus Miller had given her.

“The safest place for you — if you want to avoid the watchful eyes of the Marrennen — would be the guard tower. Being in the presence of two Rhoni might protect you almost as well. They do like to avoid us, you know.”

Looking over his shoulder out the door, her smile slipped just a little as she added, “I have other questions, but they can wait. Mid-day meals cannot.”


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Lyric

"Mmmm..." She closed her eyes remembering the taste and smell and texture of the spice. "...sinnoman..."

Her eyes flashed open as she nodded. "Then that is what we will do next.. Spiced apple cider."

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


Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … Tomomi, Hinata Cat, One Fang, Broke and Wuff-Wuff and Dominic and Miss Emerald …

The Forest Folk Market was a cornucopia of new things for Lyric as her Rhoni companion escorted her from wagon to wagon. Cesare might know but Lyric wouldn’t, that this was both odd and normal. Normal, in that market day in the fields of the High Tarn was an informal thing – folks gathered at a Village a day’s walk from their farms, so they might trade with each other. But as it was a one day gathering there were no stalls of shops, simply goods sold from the back of a wagon or from a barrow. It was odd, as the size of a town and its prosperity could be judged by the number of permanent shops and stalls that surrounded a market square. Where everything started, Cragside, was large enough to even have a huge barn dedicated to trade.

It was also odd in that there were two market days. What was happening today was focused completely on the Forest Folk. Tomorrow there would be an even bigger market, when the farmers would come out to trade. There were more – and probably nicer – goods just waiting over the bridge.

The Rhoni was wrong about something else.

“Here laddie, something to take off the cool of the afternoon.”

They had to wait, for two of the Forest Folk first, as they traded handful of coin fro not just a hot drink, but a keg of cider and two nice smelling satchels. Cinnamon and nutmeg. The drinks were ladled out from a not-small but not too large stewpot which in turn was set upon a small brazier.

For Lyric it was a simple but exquisite treat. Cider she had known, but heating it and adding spices was something only common folk might think of. The wrong part, however, was that had no hint of beer or wine or alcohol, no punch of mead or fermented beverage.

Adding rum, that was something done in more expensive venues. Perhaps tomorrow he might find such, for the hardworking farmers, but certainly not for those from the Dirkwood Forest. Looking up he could see the merchants gathered on the other side of the bridge. He could also see something unexpected. Lady Bekkah being escorted across the bridge by an ample merchant in very nice clothes.

“Of course, of course of course!”

The Merchant clapped his hands together, as Bekkah replied.

“That we can most certainly arrange. Come, come, come, this way, this way, this way.”

He certainly liked saying things in threes. He escorted the Atteran Priestess across the bridge and into their encampment. There, with but a wave of his hand and a bright word a place to sit and a place to eat was provided.

“Here, here, here – we have guests. Some bread, some wine, something warm because our Fine Lady here has just Come from a Place Cold and Dark.”

It was not fancy, but the attempt was most certainly made. A barrel rolled over and set up for a table, with a bright cloth to make it look pretty. A pair of well made wooden chairs were brought out, cleverly constructed of interlocking slats so they could be made smaller for travel. Upon the barrel-table was set a carafe of wine, a loaf of bread. Apples were found and set as well as – a little bit later – some sliced venison on a plate. And of course, simple flatware and a pair of finely carved wooden goblets.

“Does this meet with your approval? It is a bit impromptu, but we do know how to travel well. Though compared to you, ours are but mundane, simply following the seasons and the trade routes, bringing things needed from one place to another.

“You, My lady, have done More Than That. And please, please, Humility may be a Virtue, True, true, true, but too much modesty does not suit anyone well. You are a Priestess of Attera makes you both a Lady and Imperial peerage. Your word in such matters is far, far, far more important than that of others. It will – not to disparage your companions – is by necessity the impeccable truth.

“And yes, being in a God’s Service I have noted the strangeness of the folks the others are dealing with. It is of course a Miracle and one Only the Most Merciful could conceive. It may change things, but it may also not. Just because the stain of abomination has been taken from them, that does not change the fact that they are …

“… different.”

Reaching out, the Merchant took a sip of his wine.

“You, My Lady, of course, may call me William. And while I may not be part of your Church, myself and my household consider ourselves good Imperial Citizens, abiding by all your Laws and Customs. We have only prospered under the Imperial banner and have no desire for that to ever change.

“Now the Dirkwood, that is a curse older than your presence on the Mainland. T even swallowed an Imperial Prince and his entire retinue, if you believe the old tales.

“So …how did you find yourself entering the Forest? How ere you protected from its Curse? What did you see when you were there? What wonders did you discover?

“Please … start your tale at the beginning. We have all afternoon, aye?”

Lyric’s music drifted not just through the market but also up to the top of the rock. The merchants appreciated it as well as the farmers. But their response was kind of quirky. Of course they smiled, true and honest. But they all had the same question.

“Will you be here tomorrow?”

The meat pies were good. A small part of that was probably because Missus Heatherson was the only one who didn’t ask that. Glancing up, away to the top of the big rock that sheltered the Village proper, Lyric was able to see Dominic and Emerald start past the Mill and then pause as they were interrupted.

“The tower …”

Keiko’s questions caught Dominic and Emerald Mouse as they passed the door. Dominic looked back to Emerald and then to Keiko and then up the path.

“Actually that may not be one of my brighter ideas. True, it’ll be the last place they’d look, but simply because it’s the longest walk. Of course they'd look there, its where I am supposed to be as it flies the Talantal banner after all.”

He then sniffed.

“Oh. Right. I’ll be back.”

Dominic vanished and Miss Emerald padded through the door. She offered Missus Miler a silent wave as she set herself at one of the chairs. Missus Miller just eyed the Mouse, crossing her arms.

“Well. At least you folks don’t eat vey much.”

A little later Dominic re-appeared, wrapped in his cloak, his tunics sticking to himself a bit, still looking wet but definitely nicer. There were benefits, after all, in having a mill pond right next door. Dominic wasn’t shy, leaving wet footprints as he peeked around Missus Miller’s shoulder, watching the midday meal being made.

“Lets see. There’s two of us and two Mice. That’s two places. There’s Mister Cat, and while he’s big, that’s still just one more place. Then one for just in case.”

He then stepped back.

“But that’s all predicated on one very important fact.”

The Korie Lord looked to the Miller’s wife.

“If it’s fine by you Missus Miller. Coming unannounced puts us at your grace, saving that Miss Emmi and I would be right appreciative of sharing a meal with you.”

The Miller's wife considered the request, wrinkled her nose and nodded to the cupboards.

“Then you set the places.”

As he took up such a mundane tas, something so not Noble, Dominic offered Keiko a wink and a smile.

“That’s one of those things coming from a small, small village, aye? It was so small we only had one table for the lot of us. And there were a lot of us, there was me, brother Tray and brother Hallibert – we just called him Hal because his name was too long and we only had room for three letters – and of course sister Fred. We had run out of girl’s names …”

Miss Emmi just poked him at that. Fine. It was a very old joke.

“ ... oh, and everyone else ... but you know what?

“We always figured out a way to fit everyone at the table.

“Food tastes better when its shared.”

From beneath her travel cloak, Emmi just smiled.

“Husband!”

Missus Miller called out to Mister Miller.

“Is this rapscallion of a Young Lord right about that?”

The answer was exactly as expected.

“Yes, dear.”

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Cesare

He buys two cups of the spiced cider and passes one to Lyric.

"Hope you like it."

He eyes twinkle as he lifts the cup to his mouth and takes a sip, then a deeper draught.

"So have you any thoughts on where you might be heading next, assuming that you are moving on from here. Like most Rhoni I have itchy feet - in that we cannot seem to stand still in one place for too long."

He laughs.

"I intend to ask Keiko and Bekkah too. I have no firms plans in any direction but I have enjoyed my travels and adventures over the past year or so. Might be nice to continue that."

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Lyric, all good dances must come to an end... and then the drinking starts!

Lyric accepted the cup and the warmth of the heated beverage surprised her. Sure, Cesare had mentioned the spices being added, and anything with sinnoman in it had to be good, but there was no mention of the drink being warmed up. She held the cup tightly in her two small hands and, with eyes wide in wonderment, she smelled the aroma of the apples and the spice, and somehow it was right that it was warm, because that seemed to bring even more scent to her nose.

That first sip, was more like her tipping the mug close to her face and then sticking her tongue into the cider. She wasted no time from there with a real swallow and a sigh. The people of her remote and hidden village did nothing like this and she had to wonder why that was so. Was it always this way? Was it something else that had been lost in their isolation?

"I have no thoughts on anywhere to go, because I have never been anywhere," she said whilst looking over the top of her cup."

Cesare's sentence structure might seem very normal to him and most others hearing but Lyric was a little odd and like it was with some words, she had trouble understanding colloquialisms, and worse when wrapped in conversational phrasing.

"Itchy feet? Keiko never mentioned her feet itching and she does move around a lot. If it is an ailment among the Rhoni, and it bothers you so, then why do your people travel so much? You should rest and maybe someone here sells a powder, or an ointment, maybe even a tincture."

And at his mention of Bekkah and Keiko, she glanced from the Miller's home to the Merchanter Caravans waiting at the edge of the town.

"I do not think we can do both at the same time... so we should pick one and ask them where they want to go."

"As for me... Every place will be new to me, and I want to see all of it... to learn everything, and if every place has a custom such as this market, and a drink such as this cider, then I am truly happy with any decisions made by those who might know best. I have a song to find so that I might one day return home and save my people."



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

The Rhoni chuckled as Dommi set plates out on the table.

“You’re a storyteller to rival any in my Family, Dommi. A small village is not so very different from a Caravan, although we do manage to find enough names for everyone so that it isn’t necessary to share. But you already said that Fred is the name of Captain Koromov’s horse, which gives me pause to wonder about the reported beauty of your own sister... whose name is not Fred according to the news that travels with the Caravans. Nor is your second brother named Hallibert, although it’s a far more distinctive name than the one given to him by your parents.”

Keiko fetched the broom and began sweeping dirt, dust, and flour from the floor.

“Still, distinctiveness aside, it seems to be a name reserved for the ordinary folk of more spacious places than a tiny village such as yours. A long name needs a large home, and a name like Hallibert should be savored when spoken.

“As for Fred not being a girl’s name, well, I have heard of girls with names such as Frederica, which is certainly longer than Hallibert but fits well in the tale of long names that need to be shortened.”

She paused in her sweeping to look first at Mister Miller, then at the Young Master, and finally at Missus Miller.

“It’s exactly true that food shared always tastes better — even the most meager fare.” She smiled almost sadly. “That was the hardest part of traveling alone. Meal times shouldn’t be lonely times.”

Keiko continued her chore of cleaning, quiet for a few moments before pausing at the door after sweeping out the dust and dirt.

“I believe the time has come to continue my Wandering. Oh, assuredly not today and likely not even tomorrow! I have no interest in being subjected to the speculations of the Marrennen. Let them be on their way, I say, before we take our leave.

“But that does bring to mind a question you might answer, m’lord, as a person from a tiny village who has done quite a bit of traveling. Tomomi would like to visit Dawnview Vale, Lyric has expressed an interest in doing so, and I would very much like to see the Vale. I have heard so many stories, and it is Lady Bekkah’s home. I had thought that the most likely way to avoid as many Marrennen as possible — and Caravans, too, for my elders told me to do so — would be to cross the Tarn along the Flowered Path. While it would be pleasant to visit the Big Village and observes the differences between the Sea of Pearls and the Sea of Opals, it would be a very long journey on the Highland Path from Talesan’s Village to Bordertown.”

Her brows drew together as she figured travelings days and the calendar, staring out the door as she did so.

“Snowgate Pass is closed all winter. It’s known that the folks of the Highgaard Reaches are welcoming, but to spend the winter with a family might strain even their hospitality,” Keiko mused. “Cragside is a good place to trade, but not a good place to stay for any length of time. Brementown is neither a place to trade nor a place to stay. Bordertown...” She shook her head. “Well, it’s said that Midwinter there is quite a lot of fun, especially when your friend Captain Koromov and her troop are there.”

She turned and grinned at Dommi. “Oh, yes! And I believe there are stories about rafters. I understand now why those stories make sense — there isn’t a swamp in town!” She laughed as she put the broom away. “But travel routes would be of the most interest to me at the moment.”


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Ceasre

"A song?"

There must be a story to this. How can a song save people and is it one that has been lost.

Then he laughs.

"Itchy feet is just a saying for when folk don't tend to stay in one place for too long. It is not a complaint."

He smiles.

"And yes, I too want to learn more of the world and what it has to offer. As to talking to our friends.."

He looks over at Bekkah and her admiring throng.

"Maybe Keiko might be the best choice for now. Let's finish our drinks and head up to the Miller's."

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Bekkah

She was used to such treatment from the lowly to Kings. She accepted it because she knew it made others happy to treat her like this.

"This is quite lovely. Thank you."

"Well it all began here actually. On a marketday similar to this one. I got to know some of the forest folk and I saw a goodness in them. Better than many people I've come across in my travels. They took me back to their home in the forest. So that answers one of your questions. I have no great power or anything, I simply had friends who knew the ways of the forest."

She sipped at the wine, giving the man a bright smile.

"Very nice."

"When I returned to this village, I knew what I had to do. Or at least what I needed to ask of my Lady. She granted my desire, which I'm sure was felt quite far away. But she asked that I return to the forest to help free those who had been given a soul but were still being forced to work for evil."

"So with the help of my friends, for in all honesty, I had very little to do with the rescue other than inspiring others I assume we rescued other forest folk and stopped the dwarven mining operation. They will not be turning more creatures to their will."

"Ahh the Prince." she began with a wry smile.

"A charmer to be sure. He is not dead. Well not completely. I think though that he has gone quite mad. I hope for his sake that he is finally at rest. He was probably an honorable man and in some ways he was when I met him but yes as I mentioned, quite mad."

She had filled in more details as she spoke, but that was the general idea of her story. Of course he had more questions and she answered them as best as she could.

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Lyric, girls just want to have fun...

"Itchy feet... I understand," she said with a nod, and then a shrug, and then maybe a slight shake of her head back and forth. That probably meant she really didn't understand the idiom at all, but accepted that it was an idiom that might just be a little beyond her.

She also glanced at the two choices for finding their friends. Keiko was doing Keiko things and visiting with the people where she lived. That seemed personal. It also seemed like a way to avoid everyone at the Market, and that meant avoiding the adventure that was warm spiced apple cider.

Following Bekkah seemed more appealing from the sole standpoint that there were people up there she hadn't met, and that meant something new to experience. But there had to be a reason why they kept themselves at a distance though. It was Marketday after all, and she had been told this was the day for everyone to come together.

"You are probably right Cesare," she admitted with a sigh. "But we can't just invite ourselves inside their home... That would be rude. We can't even stand in the shadow of the door frame because we are outsiders and not a part of their clan. That would be doubly rude because it would appear we think we are owed something. No, we should bring our own food to eat on the step and wait for Keiko to come out... But what if Missus Miller were to notice us....But... But if she does, she might be inclined to offer us entry... if she does then we will need to offer a gift for her kindness. A gift is important when seeking hospitality even if you aren't seeking it. But I don't have a gift... Do you have a gift?"

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Cesare

"Good thoughts Lyric.. and no, I don't have anything suitable but.."

He waves an arm expansively all around them.

"There is a whole market place here. We could look for something suitable.. or we could maybe pick some flowers.. or both."

He grins.

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Lyric

The thought of picking flowers... or just walking through a field of flowers to smell the scents and aromas, while Cesare actually picked flowers, seemed like a fun way to spend some time. But...

Lyric shrugged, and her expression showed some doubt. "We would have to go pretty far for flowers that the Missus could not just pick for herself... if she were the flower picking sort. I am not sure that she is. Have you met her? She is a 'practical' woman (that might be a euphemism) and I have the belief that risking her ire would be troublesome at the best. So, I think we might consider something from the market... But something she might not be inclined to buy herself, but still might want... She is a practical woman, though I must admit such a thing is very rare where I come from and I have little experience with it myself."

Lyric shrugged.

"I am at a loss... there are merchants of this town selling and trading with the Forest Folk, but the Missus could buy or trade with her own townsfolk any other day if she needed... but there are others from farther away it seems, up the hill there, who are not selling... just waiting. This is Market day and yet they just wait. I do not understand."


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Cesare

He nods.

"Yes. From what I understand, today's market is for the Forest folk so that they can buy and sell. There is another market tomorrow which the rest of the traders.."

He waves a hand in Bekkah's direction to the other folk there.

"..attend, once the forest folk have returned Home. I don't know why this is but that's how it was explained to me last time."

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Lyric, perplexed at the very least

Lyric's petite nose wrinkled as she tried to comprehend Cesare's words. The bard in her gave credence to an underlying subtext in what she heard. She glanced back up the hill, and then to the market area where villagers waited on the Forest Folk. And then back again before she returned her attention to Cesare.

"That's..."

She sought the next word and tried to speak it as if the mouthing of a syllable would bring the word she needed to her mind. With her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed she struggled to comprehend the meaning of what her innocence had prevented her from seeing before.

"...silly."

"...wrong."

"...unfair."

Maybe she was testing these words for a fit for what she was thinking and feeling. And maybe she was listing all the words that came to her mind that described what she felt.

"Hypocritical."

That last word came with a measure of confidence and determination. Less the innocent and naive girl amused by butterflies and the smell of the ocean air, and more of that woman who created a plan to right a terrible wrong.

"I think I should speak to these merchants about this."

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Cesare

He nods as she speaks all her words, feeling for the right one.

"Yes, all of that. But that is life. People have prejudices and they use them. Rhoni are often not welcomed by townsfolk and villagers."

He shrugs, something he has grown up with.

"People think us lazy, good for nothing, thieves.. and whereas I don't know the Rhoni people as well as I wished I did, I don't believe that to be true."

Then he grins.

"Oh yes, that will be fun! So let us go to Bekkah and the other traders first. That solves the problem of a gift.. at least for the moment."

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Lyric, righter of wrongers

She also nodded and paused to take a breath and gather herself for the next step... literally, the next step along the path to where the merchant caravan was gathered.

In...

Out...

And she stepped out with purpose, but glanced sidelong to make sure her 'partner in crime' was beside her as well.

"Thank you for walking with me in this. I must admit, that I have some trepidation in my course of action right now. Not in the getting of a gift, no. But in realizing that picking flowers would be so much easier than asking someone to overcome a fear and do a thing that will be good for everyone. Change is hard. But change is also life. If you can't accept change then you can not truly be alive... and then you die."

It was sounding more like a personal matter or experience was driving her thoughts and words now.

At the top of the rise she sought out someone to approach so that she could open dialogue.

"Pardon my intrusion without invitation," began the bard with a bowing of her head. "Is there someone who would speak with us about this custom of Market Day. I have questions and I am told that Merchants are experts of such things."

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


Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … Tomomi, Hinata Cat, One Fang, Broke and Wuff-Wuff and Dominic and Miss Emerald …

“The Imperial Prince, His Highness Faast Bankorpool, is still alive?”

The Marrennen Merchant’s eyes went wide, wide as saucers as he heard that mazing bit of news. Man only was supposed to live so many years. That was the Order of things demanded by the passage of Time. It was something so important that questions about the rabble who sheltered beneath the Dirkwood’s canopy were no longer important.

“That is such a valuable mystery, Lady Bekkah. Do you have any idea how he, a man of Law and Order was able to sidestep that Law? To live forever has always been a Dream of Mankind! Such a Secret would be More Valuable than that of Ironsilver.”

Slowly bringing his surprise under control the Merchant looked to the Forest.

“That immortality lives in the Forest and that the Forest can actually be Survived, that is news worthy of trading from Blue Seas to Black Mountains.

“Yet you say …”

The Merchant’s eyes narrowed as he rubbed his chin.

“That he was also touched by an Eastern Wind. Was this the cost of his Long Life or something completely Unrelated – Another Curse of the Dirkwood Forest? How did you manage to venture in and out without feeling that Breeze yourself?”

As they approached Cesare and Lyric could overhear the conversation of Merchant and Priestess. If they called out they might be noticed by the Marrennen priest, but they were not allowed to get close enough to easily converse. Two of the lightly armored guardsmen stepped forward to halt their approach.

“What business do you have with this Caravan?’

Upon hearing the question, one of the Apprentices was brought forward. He was an average looking fellow. He was dressed in a fine set of tunics, of green and white, finely trimmed. Thus he was, obviously, a fairly successful apprentice.

"The customs of this Market?”

The Apprentice’s eyes narrowed, as if he were speaking of something distasteful.

“There is only one trade good worth the dealing with soul-less creations. Even if that has supposedly changed, they are still unnatural, their closest relations still Golems and other fel magics that break the laws of Man and Nature.”

Some things never change.

“This Market … if you can call it such … are the conditions the Noble Family Korie set to allow us that trade. If you find them unspeakable, as many of us do, then you should take your complaint to the ones who owns these lands.”

Obviously, the complaints the Marrennens would voice are probably very, very different from the ones Lyric and Cesare might hold.

“That trade good?

“Darksteel.”

The Apprentice spoke those words as if they explained everything.

Meanwhile, up in the Miller’s house, that very Noble Korie was trying to remember which side of the plate the spoons went on. Miss Emerald just shook her head and moved them properly; she did have a history of being part of the serving staff after all.

“Hey … my village was so small we couldn’t even afford a spoon! Which meant that come soup night we could only look at our dinner!”

Emmi just winced at that and poked her Owner. Missus Miller, instead, raised her head and directly addressed Keiko.

“Cor, we all know the Young Lord’s stories are hogwash.”

Dominic sat up, eyes wide, pressing a hand to his chest as he expressed mock surprise, horror and indignation all at once, very silently and very, very theatrically.

“But if you notice, he only pokes fun at himself to bring smiles to others. To remind us that things could always be worse, so we should enjoy what we got. That right?”

From the doorway, as he returned from his tasks to join the meal, Mister Miller nodded and answered his wife.

“Yes, dear.”

Dominic rested and wrinkled his nose.

“Besides, poking fun at other folks … especially certain beautiful, gorgeous, tall, slender blonde and once you get her out of her brigantine very currrvvvv …. OUCH!”

Dominic Korie was Mouse poked.

He draped his cloak over Miss Emerald’s shoulder, drawing her close. That seemed to satisfy his bodyguard. He then continued.

“… fine … poking fun at certain mercenary types tends to get you hung from the rafters.

“Which does have its bene … bene .. bene .. ben …uhm …”

As Mister Miller placed his face in his hands at least three other female types gave the lordling a very, very stern and disapproving look.

“… uhm .. I … I … I … forgot! That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

“Miss Keiko!”

Dominic very quickly changed the subject.

“Travel Routes. Of course the safest would be to return to Talesan’s Village, visit the Larsens, drink with Rory and buy a keg of his beer because that will cover your travel costs once you get to Bordertown, and then go up the Highland Path. It’s also the most interesting.

“Taking the Rhoni Road will get you to the Road East and then to Dawnview through Brementown, Cragside and the Highgaard Reaches. That, from here, is probably the most direct route.

“There is another way. Travel due south from here to Talantal and take the Highland Path to Highside Heather. Then hug the western bank of the Satin River to Corliss and Snowgate. That is perhaps the most remote and quiet route - you only have to worry for three things. Making sure you pass through Highside Heather during the day, the griffins of the Plateau and fording the Satin to get on its other side when you get to Roth.

“The Flowered Path.

“That will get you to Bordertown. Aye. It will. You need to go east and up the Rhoni Stairs to find it; but you know this if you came here this way. On the bright side it will take you through MacMurphy’s Tavern and if you do not leave the path until you intend to leave it will get you from here to there.

“On the less than brightside, it is the path a God and Goddess took when they were being pursued. That means it is a path that is anchored to the land no matter what realm it passes through. And the two who made it were running for their lives and trying to escape. Thus you may end up in places unfamiliar and strange and meet those along it just as strange.

“Is it haunted?

“How could it not be?

“Haunted might not be the best word. But you will be walking the footsteps of a hunted Goddess.

“It will certainly not be normal.”

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Lyric, hearing words that sounded familiar

Lyric heard the words of the well dressed apprentice. She cocked her head from side to side as the young man vented his indignation and prejudice in the belief that his bigotry was justified and reasonable. Lyric understood all too well the callous contempt a people could have for another when they believed themselves superior to them. And similarly, when a people actually consider another people beneath their contempt.

She spoke loudly enough, and in that voice she used when telling a story, to be heard by more than just the apprentice. A bit of a rhetorical orator in her mind, and a bit of a troublemaker in her heart. Sometimes Chaos was there to help Order realize when it had its head stuffed up its own backside.

"You are merchants, and trade is your livelihood. I understand that much, but hating someone else because they are different seems a particularly poor practice of your trade and craft. You limit your potential to maximize profit and you prevent goods from getting to those who need them and would pay well for them. And if you don't sell the goods you bought from the first then you do a disservice to them as well by not being able to buy as much of their goods to sell to the second... because you won't serve some people who need those goods. You want the darksteel from them. They want goods from you, goods you bought from others, but the Korie Nobles have to impose rules because... I am getting this right, am I not?"

"Maybe there is a better way to put it, something I am more familiar with. I am a Minstrel, a bard... and if an innkeeper were to hire me for the entertaining of his guests and patrons, then he has the expectation that I will do my best to work with the audience he provides me and tailor my songs and stories to their liking. If they are happy they eat and drink more, and the innkeeper is happy and I get paid. I might not like a particular song, but it still might be requested. Am I an artist such that I would only play what amuses me? Or am I minstrel, who likes to eat food and sleep under a roof? Don't answer, these are questions I often pose to myself when I wonder about my place in the world. 

She shrugged and shook her head.

"But people confuse me, so what would I know. Ja?"

She met the young apprentice's haughty visage with an innocent smile and eyes that didn't match that innocuous facial expression.

"...except... well, it is curious to me that if a Goddess of the Bankorpool Empire deems something or someone worthy of a soul, regardless of the nature and circumstances of their creation, and this Empire is vast and it's reach is great through those who carry her word, then wouldn't it stand to reason that this Goddess' actions 'speak' in an overwhelming statement of support for these people? That Attera's actions, in granting souls to people whose hearts and minds demonstrated that they were worthy of such a blessing from her, should not be so casually rationalized through a lens of our own shortsighted failings. Her 'actions' should mean something to the rest of us, Ja?"

She tipped her head slightly down, demurely but, with eyes up, she looked at the apprentice still.

"Forgive my impertinence. Philosophical questions are probably best left to those who wear the cloth of Deities though, Ja? And who am I to draw conclusions about your heart and motives from your words."

"But you have helped me greatly and I appreciate the insight on why this Market operates as it does. I admit I see great wisdom in the Korie Noble Family's decision to set rules to govern the market as they have. Great wisdom indeed."

She turned as if to start away from the apprentice, but not turning fully so. Those first steps were at an angle and she stopped to look back as she continued speaking.

"You have given me some clarity. I see it thusly: A diplomat must have respect for those they deal with, and without that there is no reason to believe that honesty and respect would serve as a frame upon which negotiations can take place for the mutual benefit of all parties involved. A diplomat must be able to put aside fears and prejudices to achieve a greater good... because only when a diplomat does this can they truly realize what a Godddess has already decreed. People are people... When we think we are better than someone else, we only prove we are not."

She sighed.

"I wonder if Merchants are like Diplomats. Ja?"

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[OOC: The Diplomat who's riding up the Highland Path snorts in a very un-Ladylike manner. "Not bloody likely," the Dayalan mutters. "And hush, Kisa, I'm just thinking outside my head again."]


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Cesare

Having seen Lyric in action and having heard the tales from the mine, he is confident that she can handle herself. Besides she has a minstrel's talents and so should be able to converse better than he can.

So he smiles and nods to the Apprentice, a slightly sympathetic expression maybe as he lounges against the fence watching Lyric at work.

And after her last question he shrugs. Maybe they are, maybe they aren't...

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


Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … Tomomi, Hinata Cat, One Fang, Broke and Wuff-Wuff and Dominic and Miss Emerald …

“Well …”

The Apprentice listened as Lyric laid out her argument. He did so patiently, as tit transformed from a discourse to a lecture. That could not help but cause the young man’s back to stiffen and his stance to become defensive.

“I would think that would be a matter for Imperial churches to discuss. Who neither of us belong to. Though one might – if one was truly making idle reflections on another set of deities – think that the historical enmity between those who wear blue and those who wear white might lead one to think matters are, in truth, more complicated than most would expect.

“If there was news yet from the Talantal Cathedral you can be assured that we would already know it.

“Because we are not diplomats.”

The apprentice merchant smiled.

“We are traders in all. But you make the traditional about us and see only the obvious. It is not just a matter of whom we choose to trade with. It is equally important as to who we don’t.”

It seems that was the way of things everywhere; that the inherent nature of any sort of guild or trading group was not just the promotion of the guild’s aims within the group but the strict control of such matters against those outside. And that was often a matter subjective, based on things other than profit, right or wrong or even common sense.

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. It was as if impossible to have chaos without law or law without chaos. And it posited a matter equally odd. The rule of law often created chaos, while chaos often found it set to rules equally unexpected.

Lyric was allowed to leave while Bekkah and the Priest continued their conversation. She did catch one interesting sight as she did. Up next to the mill pond, sprawled out comfortably upon a big gray stone, was the mercenary cat. He had been told of cats and sunbeams, he had taken that tradition as his own.

And now, for the first time, Hinata was able to know what it was really like.

“Now, as for timing …”

Still at their midday meal, Dominic mused for a bit, looking eastward, towards where, far off, there were mountains.

“If you think you are going to be close to the mountains come the end of Harvest and the beginning of Storm and are not going to make it through the passes, then I recommend timing your trip so you pause either at Corliss or Highgaard. While I prefer Bordertown, it can get a bit rowdy there – the Jvrillians go a bit stir crazy, especially with the Greenlands threat being currently diminished. That will change, however. Or could change. It is the East’s biggest holding this side of the mountains, so I suspect they will not want to lose it very easily.

“How they know what’s going on in those woods, on the other side of Trundle, leagues and mountains apart, is one of those yet to be answered questions.”

“Friendly wise, both Corliss and the villages in the Highgaard valleys are nice. I know the tales say that Highgaard vanishes under a mountain of snow every year, but that’s only partially true. The main passes, at Lilia’s and Cragside, are blocked. But the valleys are deep and well sheltered. A good guide can keep you moving from one to another – though it helps if you are part goat.

“Corliss, now. If you are a true friend to the Allaines, you will be well treated. They are very sensitive about their recent rise to the Nobility. That was the other reason, you know, for Allaines to grab the farms between Dawnview and Silk Creek. To provide a buffer between … Corlis … and … and … and … oh my … everything else.”

The Korie lordling paused.

“Oh my. I wonder if she realized that.

“I bet oh know-it-all-beautiful-bookworm-delightful-but-so-focused-she-sometimes-forgets-stuff smartest person on the mainland is gonna’ be going all ut-oh-what-did-I-do-now when she realizes …

“Roth is no longer a Bordertown or Korie problem … it’s an Allaine problem now!”

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[OOC: Because Daxia isn't here to debate with Dommi in character and because no one else is as politically savvy as the younger Lady Yurisdotter, I'll say this out of character. Roth has always been a Bordertown problem. Granted, that's certainly exacerbated by the Kories' choice not to make it their problem. And because of proximity, it's still a Bordertown problem, notwithstanding the fact that it's part of the Allaines' territory rather than the Kories'. The only difference is that the Allaines are more politically motivated to make it a joint problem for them and Bordertown. The younger Lady Yurisdotter would also thump Dommi on the head for not knowing that Kisa thinks so far ahead that she's already realized this, and then hug him because his pretense at naivety is totally adorable.

Also, until and unless some PCs show up, I have the same problem this week as I had last week regarding posting. So consider my political commentary to be my post... until and unless I have someone to interact with .]


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Lyric

There was nothing more to say, and no reason to respond. She said her piece and he said his. That people were people, no matter where they came from, seemed a universal constant. Even when those people were isolated and reclusive, they could be just like others who traveled to every place they could go.

It seemed a little disheartening in many ways. She could even feel the animus the man felt for her, based entirely upon his assumptions that were filtered through his biases and prejudices... erroneous assumptions at that.

But, it also meant there were things in common as well. These things, right here and right now, weren't admirable qualities to share in common... but she had also seen good things as well. Great things, worthy of being recognized more so than foibles and faults.

Do not let the weaknesses of a people blind you to their strengths.

Lyric would not let this conversation get her down. Dominic had put some measures in place to ease the way for the Forest Folk to experience the the world. And experiences were important. New ones kept a person and a people alive and well of body and soul.

Lyric didn't want to let anything get her down. She enjoyed being happy much more than being sad because she felt everything to profoundly. But the minstrel understood that she must have both, happy and sad, if for no other reason than to be able to know the difference between them. You can't have one without the other.

"We will not find our Gift here, Cesare," she said as she reached out to take his hand to lead him in skipping first and then running down the hill, with laughter and reckless abandon.

With her mandolin in the other hand, snugged against her belly, she set about to tumble on purpose by the end of the hill, if her own feet had not failed her before reaching the bottom. It felt like a fun thing to do. She was hardly clumsy. In fact, it was quite the opposite. She rolled gracefully into a tuck and protected herself. But maybe that wasn't noticed with the squeal of glee. The sound was quite akin to that of a child unconcerned with the cares and decorum of adults. It ended in laughter and a minstrel laying out on her back, staring up at the sky.

She raked her hands outward through the grasses and the underlying dirt and sighed away the laughter into a calm contentment. But even that didn't last long.

"We do need to speak with Keiko soon... A gift for the Missus Miller for respect first. It will not be the perfect gift, but perhaps there is still something to be had that is proper token of respect all the same?"

This posed a conumdrum to the Minstrel, who, on any other day, might enjoy spending hours and hours- not even knowing hours were being spent- puzzling such a thing through. She needed a gift, but didn't know what kind of gift might be needed or wanted. The Missus was a person who seemed very practical and unpractical things might be pretty and fun but not not useful and thus cause more trouble than solve. So, what to get? Lyric felt that she would need to ask the Missus, or ask Keiko, but either option would mean showing up without a gift and intruding uninvited only to find out what gift might be best so they could obtain such a gift and then return again.... No, she didn't have the hours and hours, to the point where hours had no meaning, to solve this. Order and Chaos, Chaos and Order. Clashing again. Oh My!

When in doubt, she would always opt for Chaos. It was her way.

"We must simply pick something, anything, and then hope there is truth in the adage that it is the thought that counts, Aye?"

****

OOC: I would like to get Kel joined up with us (or us with her as the case may be) and posting again. So, after Gypsy's reply and maybe a followup from me, but before the next GM post I would like to posit that we jump forward enough such that the GM can put Lyric and Cesare on the doorstep in his next message. Is this workable?

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[OOC: Kel is in a funk such that even her favorite and most talkative Voice inside her head has been too quiet. Keiko seems to have taken on the personality traits that Daxia was meant to have but were stripped away by the GM (quiet, introspective), and Kel can’t convince Keiko of anything while Kel is in a funk. So there’s no need rush anything on Kel’s account.]


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[[OOC Note: The nice thing about the Miller is that it is a fairly prominent place and there is no reason that folks would or could not go up for a visit.

So if you want to go up and fine Keiko there, that's fine. You can even engage her in conversation ... and I'll just catch up. ]]

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OOC: Awesome- will let Gypsy get a post in, and then we will assume we got something and show up and see if we can get this ball rolling... and who knows- Keiko might just have heard Lyric squealing like a little girl as she rolled down the hill

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OOC: Logic dictates that there's no way Keiko could have been able to hear Lyric. Ninja, yes... but she's on the Highgaard Path in an alternate universe. Super OCD Woman will not allow me to pretend Keiko (a mere mortal) has the ability to hear things Ninja (an Immortal Being from Beyond) could hear. Of course, the GM has offered to completely toss logic out the metaphorical window with his comment to me about Kisa throwing snowballs (I think he said spitting, but Kisa is too refined to do that) from her balcony in Dawnview at Dorian Korie in Talantal. Unfortunately, in that world, there are more things on the Flowered Path than the dangers Dommi warned about... there is also a Stargate.

However, my point about being in a funk and having a hard time engaging with ANY of my characters is still the primary issue here, and I will reiterate my suggestion that you take your time.

I have FOURTEEN projects that I'm currently working on; the most I have have been assigned at one time since I started working here has been THREE. Nah, I'm not stressed at all. (That was a lie.)


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OOC: we will work it out and walk it through- maybe it takes a couple posts, but we are coming your way eventually<g>

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Cesare

He accepts her hand and joins in the running and laughter with an obvious enthusiasm. He doesn't have the childlike naivety that allows Lyric such free abandon but she does seem to offer him moments to be free of cares, to enjoy the childhood moments much of which he missed growing up. And she is good company.

At the bottom of the hill, breathless and still laughing, he leans down offering a hand to pull her back to her feet.

"I know a gift you could offer the Millers. How about a song? Take a tune you already know, add words for just them, about this place, their lives here, add in some of us, Keiko especially. It will be something they can treasure for a long time and maybe bring back some happy memories. I don't have the voice quality that you have but I can hold a tune so maybe a bit of background harmony?"

He grins at her.

"And I can help with the words maybe. So let's saunter along and see what we can come up with."

[OOC That should buy Kel a little more time grin ]

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Bekkah

She noted the man's reaction. She could be careful with her answers, but she decided on the truth as she knows it.

"Yes, Faast Bankerpool was alive when I left him, but a lot happened as I was leaving. As to how he came to still be alive. I do not know for sure. I suspect the dwarves had something to do with it, perhaps not. The price, or at least a part of it was obvious. He was quite mad."

"As to how I avoided such a fate myself, well I'll always believe that my Goddess is protecting me." she said with a smile.

"Those who seek power or glory, often make deals with those they should not. Or perhaps they are more open to corruption in their blind desire for power. I do not seek either, so perhaps that is the reason I am here today, unchanged."

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


Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … Tomomi, Hinata Cat, One Fang, Broke and Wuff-Wuff and Dominic and Miss Emerald …

The time , along with the Sun, drifted over Waverider’s Watch. The most content, at this moment,seemed to be the big cat Forest Folk, the market forgotten as he laid back upon the warm rock.

One had to admit that this was, indeed, a new experience for him. Two days ago his entire world was bound by stone and most of time in a room so small one could touch the walls just by extending ones arms.

The meal at the mill fell quiet, which seemed to fit Missus Miller’s tastes fine and Mister Miller being a man of two words himself. Though Missus Miller was a lady who simply gave looks, so at first hers was quizzical, then her brow wrinkled. It actually softened a bit, when her attention fell upon a certain Miss Mouse, Emmi, and then darkened as she looked at her companion. At that Dominic blinked, paused, and his expression was far too readable – especially for those who had brothers.

It was that silent ’what-did-I-do-now’ look.

That garnered a crossing of fierce farmer-folk arms and an even darker glower, as the Miller’s wife spoke.

“If’n what they say is true, Young Master …”

Missus Miller was not one to mince words.

“That means the little one is a real girl now. So you better do right by her.”

Then she backed up her words with the most dire threat, proving that she knew not just the Law, Tradition and the Bounds of Fealty, but a certain rapscallion well.

“Or we’ll be powerful disappointed in you.”

Dominic blinked and swallowed. Emmi blushed, the inside of her cute round ears turning deep crimson. They each spoke, two words, completely and accidentally, in unison.

“Yes ma’am.”

While the true boss of the village spoke, Lyric and Cesare had the market, the fields, the stream and the big rock itself to search; to search for a gift. If Cesare was right, however, it became a matter of creating rather than acquiring.

But then, while there was no remembrance trinket left, to gather dust on a shelf,a melody and lyric were never forgotten.

The Merchant prince, sitting across from Bekkah, sipped at his drink. As she spoke his gaze drifted to the Forest, barely a stone’s throw or two away.

“They have always said those woods were Cursed by an Eastern Wind. It is dark tidings to find those rumors are not fancy but true. A most powerful curse indeed, must it be, to take down a strong, Rames-fearing Imperial Lord.”

His gaze then fell to the Forest Folk’s Market.

“One cannot then forget, no matter how polished or made to shine, that all that come from that dark place, have, in one manner or another, felt that breeze. Once touched it can never be forgotten, or so our Imperial Churches teach us.”

He raised his glass in toast.

“To your Lady then, the Kind One, who protected you and yours into such a dread place.

“You must have seen many mysteries in those woods. That the trees themselves, they devour people. That there are worse things within than fish that walk up out of the water. Certainly the Prince, and those mysterious companions – dwarves – must have lived somewhere? What manner of shelter did they find against the Forest?

“A speaking of dwarves … what is a dwarf like? They are but words in tales told children before bed – they have never been seen on the mainland, they are supposed to have had a grand kingdom, an entre land, beyond where the farthest fishing boat can sail.

“What manner of people were they?”

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Lyric, curious minds want to know...

She nodded but as Cesare stepped out, the Minstrel remained still, watching him. She cocked her head sideways, her eyes tracking his feet and then up his body, trying to take in the fullness of what he was doing.

"Is that a saunter," she asked as she then skipped a few paces to catch up. She was still watching him, his feet then his face, back to his feet. "I have never seen a saunter before. It looks like walking, and so I wanted to make sure. I don't want to miss sauntering along with you."

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Cesare

"Now a saunter is much more than just a walk. It is a deliberately slow walk, casual, uncaring but also in the background full of attitude. It tells the world that you have no cares, that you can stand your own ground, that maybe you are not someone to be messed with.."

He flashes a grin.

"Yes a saunter is a real statement.. but at the same time comfortable.. especially if you are not in a hurry."

He chuckles.

"So chin a little higher, head at a slight angle, confidence in the body."

He instructs from the side as they walk.

"Any ideas on a song then? We could do one about a mill.. or about a small community.. or about a partnership as the Millers definitely have one.. or maybe a sauntering song?"

He winks.

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OOC: Can you imagine the ministry of silly walks right about now?

***

Lyric, slow and casual with a pocket full of attitude

Lyric set herself to the task. She would learn to do this sauntering walk. It seemed like fun and it had already distracted her from the task at hand. Attitude she had, but how to make it casual, almost indifferent, yet not uncaring? How then to be confident without being arrogant?

And so she stepped out, in a comical exaggeration of Cesare description and depiction. It was almost like she was a marionette puppet on unseen strings, whose limbs were overly loose and slouched too low for any proper semblance of good posture. All wobbly and loose, and she laughed as she did. Was she doing it on purpose? It obviously amused her to act a little clownish.

"I like it... I am... SAUNTERING... and we are sauntering."

"This is fun, and the music is in my head," she added softly as she kept walking. "Andddd... SAUNTERING..."

As she walked like her joints didn't work properly, she began to pick the strings to form a melody. Even with the goofy walk, she proved she had complete control over body and rhythm as she could 'silly' walk and play the mandolin at the same time.

(OOC- Think 'Blackwater Side' as sung by Liam Clancy for the tune and even some lyrical inspiration. Don't know what those lyrics will be, but the song itself has some relevant imagery, even the title)

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Cesare

He chuckles.

"I think you are getting it."

And he tucks his thumbs into imaginary lapels as he saunters with even more intent.

"So the sauntering song..?"

And he adds words to the tune as they saunter.

"Saunter on by,
Shoulders back, chin high,
Without a care in the world,
Do not thwart or think to mock me,
For I let the world pass by me."

He chuckles again.

"Might do as a chorus I guess."

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Bekkah

She sipped her own drink and smiled apologetically.

"Alas, you will have to get more detailed information from others. I crossed half a bridge in the Prince's domain when I was engaged in an discussion with him. Well, it was more that I was explaining how I would make a terrible bride for him despite his objections. Before, I could do much else, the dams had been broken, flooding out the area further on. So I don't really have any more answers for you."

"There is evil in that forest to be certain. How and from where it originated, I do not know. I would not even venture to say it was from the east. Obviously some power has kept the Prince alive all this time, but he is quite mad and I suspect that power whether he is a victim or he sought it out is evil."

"I am glad to be done with the place and I hope the prince is finally at rest."

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


Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … Tomomi, Hinata Cat, One Fang, Broke and Wuff-Wuff and Dominic and Miss Emerald … but mostly Bekkah

The Sun was slowly starting its descent, from zenith to the western horizon. This meant that lunches would soon be finished and after a little bit more folks would be packing up their wares, the farmers to return to their homes, the merchants the main caravan and the Forest Folk back into the Dirkwood.

It also marked the close of the conversation between Bekkah and the Marrennen Priest.

“You turned down a proposal from an Imperial Prince?”

That got a clap of hands and smile from the merchant.

“Oh my! That is telling. And so there is also romance in your tale! Folks like to listen to stories that are laced with something romantic. A beautiful priestess, a meeting upon a bridge – was it at night and under the moonlight? And he was instantly so smitten by a mainland lass’ beauty that he wanted you for his wife!

“And fate would not have it so, that the Forest had twisted him into something so horrid even the most kind could not bear to end his loneliness. A beauty and a true beast.”

The merchant grinned, as if he knew just how fast this story would move up the Highland Path.

“Then I am glad that you have managed to return with your own soul untainted. That would have been a tragedy. Though, academically, one would wonder that if he were so touched, why was he not abandoned by his god… or …”

The merchant tilted his head.

“Or was he?”
Sitting back and straighter, the Marrennen nodded.

“Could you then introduce me to your companions? I would love to hear their stories too.

“It’s what we merchants do.”

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Lyric, The Sauntering Minstrel

Betwist and Between. With Snippets and clippets of song and tune, Lyric and Cesare would construct a Sauntering Song. It was a silliness, no doubt, but it was worth the fullness of the time devoted and then some. These past few days had seen no small measure of heartache and sadness intertwining with the great goodness and joy of the rescuing task to which they had set themselves.

But Lyrics mind was complex and Chaos was a companion to the Minstrel, and she could play at the Sauntering with the Rhoni Lad whilst composing words and tune for the Miller's Wife. In fact, Cesare was integral to this effort. He kept the Minstrel's mind from slipping into a singular thought path where order reigned supreme. Without Cesare, Lyric would probably find herself lost in the stillness that came when she paused to ponder things more deeply.

And in a moment between vesers and sauntering, Lyric clipped a small piece of metal to a fret high up the neck of her mandolin and began to play a different tune. And she sang a song...

One ev'ning fair, where I chanced the air
out by BlackWater side...
As I gazed in awe around me
That the Miller's Wife I spied.

There upon a hill, broad blades stood still
above BlackWater side...
Come to watch She Crossing the Sky
And her smile was one of pride

Her Home, Her Home, so far- away
From every- where-- else
And yet they all come, to trade and play
You would think this was the Crown

WaveRider's Reach is the place she loves
but no one knows how deep
As she hides her smile, to watch from above
The Miller's Wife guards her home

So now I go, and wander I will
Beyond BlackWater side...
In this town between forest and sea
forev'r my heart will abide

Forev'r my heart will abide.

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Bekkah

Ever the lady, she showed no signs of the internal groaning she was doing over his excitement. The last thing Bekkah Yurisdotter wanted was stories about her. Her humility was genuine. She preferred to simply be one of the people. It's truly who she was.

"I honestly don't know about his God, but I suspect that Rames left him many years ago."

"And yes, I'd love to introduce you to my companions." she said getting up, this time the smile was quite genuine.

If he accompanied her, she'd introduce him to the first person she saw.

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Messenger in Korie livery
9 Yrick 2625


The young man carried a pack that looked fairly heavy; his attention was focused on the tower... and the stone steps that seemed to grow in number each month. This month, there were as many stairs as days in the year. By this time next year, he expected them to number more than the stars in the sky.

However, when he saw the Lady of Attera, he smiled and slipped his hand into the pouch at his side. At least the strange woman with a sword only asked him to carry envelopes that were lighter than feathers. Or so they seemed. Everything was relative on the journey out to Waverider’s Watch, especially since Midsummer.

He didn’t want to disturb her conversation with the Merchant Priest, but when she stood, he took that as a good sign.

“Lady Bekkah?” It was only protocol that made him ask, of course. The swordswoman’s description of the Healer had been remarkably accurate. He offered the envelopes to her, bowing slightly — as one did, of course, in the presence of the Imperial Priests and Priestesses. “Messages from someone who called herself Lady Daxia.”

It wasn’t that he doubted the ‘Lady’ part, per se. It was just... well... women who carried swords weren’t Ladies. Not in the Noble or even Minor Noble sort of way, at least. And certainly not in an Imperial way! He’d been raised to be polite to all women and would never use some of the words he’d heard for the women who carried swords. Especially not one who was every bit as polite as his mother, traveled in the company of another Lady of Attera, had her own fierce-looking apprentice and deferred to a young Dama who looked suspiciously like an Allaine. Not that the swordswoman didn’t look a lot like an Allaine, too, with that red hair. But she had blue eyes, not the green eyes of the other woman.

Still, if Lady Bekkah recognized the swordswoman as a Lady in her own right, it would be prudent to use the woman’s title.

“She said you wouldn’t have an immediate response, so I’ll just take the rest of this up to the fellows in the tower.”


[OOC: See PM for letters.]


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Cesare

"Lovely! And Mistress Miller now has her name etched in history.. well eventually she will have."

He grins.

"Ready to head up now?"

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Bekkah

She watched the man approaching her. His words were greeted with a magnificent smile as she took the letters.

"Thank you. No message." then a mischievous grin came upon her face that made her look younger.

"No, there is a message." she said moving to him, giving him a tight hug.

She released him still grinning.

"Just tell her that it's a return message from Lady Bekkah first though and she'll leave your arms attached to your body." she said still smiling.

Without another word, she pocketed the letters and moved off to sit and read in the sun.

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Lyric, ready or not...

The Minstrel took a deep breath, nodded, and said, "I think so."

She fell in with Cesare, but she looked over her shoulder to the treeline again. Soon this Market Day would be over. The Forest folk would head back to Home, and the paths between them would diverge.

Before Lyric loomed an uncertain future in an unknown world. Her people were so isolated and so reclusive that this first journey along that lightly travelled path beside the Dark Forest was daunting and nearly overwhelming. But she took those steps, and she made a friend, and then another and another, and then more. She lost a friend or two, and that was hard for her. Life and Death, like Order and Chaos, were held in a balance and could not exist without one another.

Behind her, in a poetic sense, was this village and the Forest and the goodness she had been given the trust by people in need to help them. She had been given an honor to be included among a select group whose numbers saw losses, losses that still troubled Lyric as much as that of losing the Dama.

Lyric felt everything so deeply and personally. But she knew she couldn't stay. It wasn't her way, despite it being the way of her people. Lyric knew it shouldn't be the way of her people, but saying as much nearly got her killed. She was exiled, sent away... and now she was Banished.

That came with a purpose and a quest though. She would have to leave this place, and take steps, once again, into the unknown. But she would not be alone.

Lyric looked back to Cesare. "Did you really like it," she asked in a hopeful tone and wide eyes to match.

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Cesare

He laughs.

"Yes of course."

He shakes his head slowly, smile still on his face.

"I am mostly honest, perhaps too much sometimes. People often don't want to hear truth but I take as I find. If I don't like a song, likely I would tell you.. but that has yet to happen, so I don't truly know."

His eyes twinkle.

"But as long as you like it, that is what is most important, yes?"

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Lyric

"I think so," she said. Odd enough that she would seem less than confident in her music when she had played many other things and sang many other songs already and commanded the attention of almost all who listened to her mesmerizing performances. Maybe because this song was something she had created?

"Music and song is different among my people. I have told you before that we are very isolated and seldom get visitors. That is no lie. It is very rare and often ends badly. If no one leaves to tell of us, then the secret remains. But... a few of us have travelled out to see this larger, wider, world. I never have before this journey, but I was always eager to hear of the things they saw and heard and learned."

Lyric started for the Miller's home as she continued.

"It was this curiosity that led me to speak of things that I shouldn't have... things that needed to be said, but couldn't, wouldn't be heard... Well, I suppose there were those who heard it and for that..."

She pasued as if reflecting on a painful experience.

"...I had to leave."

And then, just like that, her mood shifted again back to a more mercurial frame and she laughed as she leaned over to pluck a thin grass shoot stem with a brush tail of seeds at the end. It seemed so very late in the season, but weed grasses were ever so hardy. They endured in harsh and difficult places when only the will to survive remained as an ally.

She plucked it and held it before her as she turned in a circle while she walked.

"So here I am... far from home... Every day is another chance to experience things anew. I live in a world I always wanted to see with my own eyes. Yes, so here I am."

"Tell me a story Cesare... any story. Even a quick one, while we walk. I love stories and I want to hear every story there is... the old ones and the new ones..."

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Cesare

"You should be free to express an opinion wherever you are but especially amongst your own."

He cannot quite understand what made her leave her people. It sounds like she was different, didn't fit in, all the more reason to leave in his opinion but it didn't sound as if she had much choice.

"A story huh? Have you heard the one about the young girl and the Shark God?"

He grins.

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Lyric

Lyric still had the grass spear in one hand as she looked from it to Cesare, and her eyes widened in proportion to her grin. She shook her head and the growing eagerness and child-like anticipation was obvious.

"No... But I want to hear it. Please?"

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

The Atteran’s hug had a nearly paralyzing effect on the young man. His response to her comment was a wide-eyed stare... and an excellent imitation of a fish, with his mouth opening and closing silently and rhythmically. It was only after she walked away that he blinked. It took a double handful of heartbeats before he could close his mouth, after which he blinked again.

He was supposed to hug a swordswoman if he came upon the redhead again?!? His mind rolled around this impossible idea much like his elder sister had rolled around a ball to amuse him when he was a very small child. Hug a woman who carried a sword?? He didn’t have a death wish! He was skeptical that invoking the Imperial Lady’s name would save him.

Fortunately, his feet kept him moving through all of this — away from the Merchant camp, up the path, and even starting up the stairs without assistance from his brain. Those same feet instinctively kept him from bumping into the tall Guardian of the Forest Folk watching over the market. In fact, they served him well all the way to the Mill level, where they failed him, and he nearly tripped over one of the lilil’uns.

“Oh, no! No, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it! Don’t hurt me! Oh, please, I’m so sorry.”

He blinked again when he felt a hand pressed against his chest. He blinked several times, quite rapidly, until he realized that he was looking at Keiko and not death.

“Henrik, Tomomi is fine. You, however, are not. Whatever are you doing climbing these stairs and not paying attention?”

He merely pointed behind him and imitated a fish again.

“Words, Henrik. Please.”

“Lady. Hug. Skewer.”

“Lady Bekkah hugged you? Well, you’re a lucky lad. She’s the essence of kindness, so I don’t understand the bit about skewering.”

“I’m to...” He paused to shudder and swallow hard. “...to pass the hug along...” He closed his eyes, and a sheen of sweat popped out on his forehead. His voice dropped to a whisper. “...to hug the woman who gave me the letters for the Lady. She called herself a Lady — Lady Daxia — but for all that, she is still a swordswoman, Keiko. I don’t want to die.”

Her laughter was something of a balm, and he dared to open his eyes.

“You’re a nice person, Keiko, but you shouldn’t laugh at someone who’s going to die before ever seeing home again.”

“You’re such a ninny, Henrik. If you’re so scared of Lady Bekkah’s sister — Lady Daxia is Lady Bekkah’s sister, you know — then contrive not to meet her again.” Keiko giggled. “But I have heard the Lady speak about her sister Daxia, and I would like to meet her. She sounds like... well, someone as fierce as Broke and as kind as Lady Bekkah herself!”

Henrik looked back over his shoulder at the Guardian on the steps. “Well, maybe?” He looked once again at Keiko — because it was rude to speak to someone and not look at them and, to be honest, she was pretty. “She was very polite... courtly, almost. But did you not hear the part about the sword? Perhaps I failed to mention the apprentice with a long spear. And a unicorn. A unicorn, Keiko!” He shook his head vigorously. “No. I couldn’t. Any one of them could send me dining and dancing with Krysta faster than I could tweak your nose.” He rubbed his elbow. “Which is something else I’d never do again,” he said with a smile.

Keiko patted his arm. “I didn’t even hurt you, silly! How was I to know pinching other people’s noses is a tradition in some families? I learned something new that day! And so did you!”

He laughed. “Yes, I learned it’s a bad idea to surprise Rhoni lasses.” He glanced up at the tower and sighed. “I need to get this latest delivery up to the tower. Thomas is lying in wait for me, I’m sure. Do you have my orders to return to Talantal? He says that every time, so it’s likely that he’ll repeat himself again today. I understand that he’s anxious to go home, but how am I to know what papers I have for him? Even if I were untrustworthy enough to inspect the packages entrusted to my safekeeping, I can’t read any of it!”

She smiled and shrugged. “It’s his ritual, I suppose. And perhaps someday soon he will be recalled to Grand Talantal. There really isn’t enough to keep him busy here. I think that’s why he’s so grumpy most of the time. He’s bored.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. Lord Tray has been making some changes. Not too many,” he hastened to add, “but rumors around the Castle say that Lord Marcus is more... um... annoyed by his Lady Wife than his brother. Although rumors being what they are, someone as lowly as I am will never know the truth. The Khorall pretends not to notice any of it. I’ll bet he notices everything, though.”

“No doubt he does. I’ve had very little experience with Noble folks, but my elders say the Khoralls all have sharp eyes even when they pretend to ignore things. The Allaine have the sharpest eyes of all.” She tapped her chin with a finger. “I met Lord Dominic when he was last visiting here...”

“You did?! Oh, did you think he was charming? I’ve never actually met him, but the common folk do love him well! Especially the women.” He harrumphed in a good-natured way. “Keiko of the Rhoni, you have had more adventures since I was here last month! I thought being a messenger for the Noble Family Korie would be exciting... would you adopt me instead?”

Keiko laughed again. “I will not! Yes, Lord Dominic is charming but I didn’t swoon over him. And it seems to me that meeting a famous swordswoman and being hugged by the kindest Lady of Attera in all the lands should be adventure enough for anyone.”

“Famous?”

She nodded. “Even I have heard a story or two about the battle outside Bordertown this Midwinter past.”

His eye grew wide. “That was HER?” His voice squeaked up an entire octave.

“Yes, I believe so.”

“But... she... I mean... she’s...”

“Just a girl?” Keiko interjected, lips pursed.

“No, no,” he hastened to say, shaking his head. “She’s too nice, she’s so young! The swordswoman who fought the One Who Shall Not Be Named must be even more fearsome than the all the Guardians! She must be as strong and powerful as all of the Knights in Talantal!”

Keiko snickered. “I am more than a little tempted to join you on your walk back to Grand Talantal and help you find this swordswoman. I am more intrigued by every new rumor and story I hear about her.”

He blinked again and stared at her. Today was the day for surprises... too many of them if he was going to be honest with himself.

“I thought you liked it here. You’d leave? With me?”

“As you have so keenly noted, I am Rhoni. Traveling, wandering, walking the World is what we do. I do like it here, though. But I have made new friends and at least one of them...” She looks over at Tomomi and smiles. “...has as much enthusiasm to travel and see the World as I do.”

She looked past him, down the long set of steps, to the market area.

“Oh, dear. You should get going, Henrik. Our Lady Bekkah is escorting the Marrennen — charming him expertly, I don’t doubt — and is headed this way.”

Lyric and Cesare weren’t far behind them. And Henrik was already moving.

“Those Merchant Priests ask more questions that the Eyes! I’ll talk to you later, Keiko!”

The Rhoni watched him for a few heartbeats, smiling to herself before poking her head back into the Millers’ home.

“Dommi, you might want to make yourself scarce. There’s a fancy Marrennen heading this way.”

To spare Missus Miller the hubbub she knew the senior Marrennens could stir up, she started down the stairs. Pausing on the second one, she looked back at Tomomi with a cheerful smile.

“You’re welcome to join me if you like. But if you feel it might be overwhelming, you could watch from the window in my room.” Keiko chuckled. “Knowing you’re watching is almost the same as having you with me. There are fewer hugs, of course. But my heart knows.”

Being accustomed to the stairs of the Waverider’s Watch miniature mountain, she skipped down to meet Lady Bekkah and her guest.

“Good afternoon to you, Lady Bekkah... m’Lord Marrennen. Are you headed for the Tower? Perhaps a short pause to enjoy the few of the farms would be wise. There are messages from Talantal today, and it would be ungracious of me to allow you to be subjected to Thomas if the delivery turns him grumpy, as is usually the case.”


"Everything is bad except unicorns." -- Phoebe
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Cesare

He nods.

"In a village by the sea, a young girl Dydd had gone to fetch water. Her parents ran the local inn and she helped where she could."

"But she did not return."

"People began to search for her. Her father Rory and a young man who worked for him found tracks leading away from the well and down towards the cliff edge. And that was of great concern. Had she fallen?"

"But in following the tracks they found a narrow path that lead down the cliff and ended up in a door. A door that would be covered with the tide much of the time, hence the father had not known it was there."

"And then three other friends arrived, two females and a male Jvillian, who had also been searching for the young girl. Opening the door, they found tunnels, partially flooded, the depth uncertain, all in darkness. Moving forward together, they felt their way forward, edging their way along one tunnel, then another. Suddenly there was noise ahead, movement in the water.. and they were attacked by a shark. Working together, they fought it off.. but there was another.. and another."

"It seemed that the odds were stacked against them but the thought of the little girl somewhere ahead in the darkness drove them forward. They fought every inch, took damage but also took strength from each other and kept moving forward."

"Eventually they reached a lit area, a shrine to the Shark God whose minions they had been fighting.. and there were several more of them! But the little girl was also there.. and alive! Now they had hope to lend them courage. Quickly, before they were seen, a plan was hatched and the group moved forward to do battle."

"These creatures were ferocious but the group were desperate to save the little girl as they had realised she was to be sacrificed to the Shark God. A desperate fight took place, each of the group trying everything they had, using all their skills, all their wits, all their belief in each other.. ignoring the injuries they were taking.. saving the little girl more important than any of them. And eventually, hurt but victorious, they vanquished the sharks and took the little girl home, safe and sound."

He grins but there is a shadow in his eyes.

"I like happy endings."

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Lyric, a little bit confused

She continued walking alongside her Rhoni companion as he told his story. He was not without talent in this regard and that made her happy to think that he might be able to help her learn many stories. His Sauntering Song was quite fun as well. Keiko also had a spontaneity that was admirable. The Rhoni were surely a whimsical people, of this Lyric had little doubt even if she had little more than her own observations to make this judgment.

She watched him intently, only glancing occasionally to the path she walked so she didn't trip. His delivery was sharp and quick and the pace kept the tale progressing. It had all the makings of a parable...


...except...

Well... there didn't seem to be a parable layered within the story to reveal a deeper meaning and a lesson. It caused her to knit her brow as she considered the words and what she might have missed. She tried to figure out the Shark God character and the inferred meaning of such a being but she struggled there as well. What of the girl? Through to the end, she seemed to be no more consequential to the story than just an ingenue... an innocent serving as the focus of the Quest... and that meant that this tale fell squarely on the actions of those who set out to rescue her. Again, no inferred meaning, no subtext, no lesson... neither moral or virtue. She cocked her head as she thought this through. She had even let the spear of grass hang limply at her side as she walked several more steps.

"Yes, it does have a happy ending."

This was not an original creation of Cesare's and as such, she could not seek the purpose of the tale from him, nor hold him accountable for the expectations she had in this particular craft.

But she also hoped he wouldn't read too much into her obvious expression of confusion and puzzlement while she walked beside him.

Perhaps, the layer came from understanding the nature of the protagonist and his companions who set out to rescue the girl. But Lyric lacked context and she feared that betraying that would reveal her own weaknesses and expose herself as a Minstrel fraud.

This journey had many confusing moments when people spoke of things she knew nothing about, or used words she didn't understand. Always the quick with and agile of mind, Lyric faked her way as best she could so far. But this seemed important. Cesare had shared a story and she felt she needed to trust him a little in order to affirm his efforts at telling an otherwise fine tale.

If she asked the one question that troubled her, the one question that she could not resolve, then maybe the revealed nature of the protagonist would resolve the whole story in a greater depth.

But... What if asking the question she made herself the protagonist of a tale he might feel the need to unravel? She had already told him, told them all, that it would not be a good idea to seek out her people, her village. They kept themselves hidden and were fierce defenders of that privacy.

Oh, this greater, wider world was so confusing... and so potentially dangerous. Trust it had to be. Trust a friend... Not a concept she knew very much about, either one... Trust or friend. But she needed to learn and hope.

"What is, or who is a... Jerverillons," she asked whilst mangling that very last word.

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Cesare

"A Jvillian is a skilled fighter who hires himself out on contract, either individually or as part of a larger group of the same."

He pauses, sensing that she has some difficulties in hearing the story, as he had done in telling it. It brought back many memories and reminds him of what.. and who he is missing.

"And in the case of this story, the Jvillian was Mikal, one of the friends I arrived with. The two females were Kadri and Bekkah."

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Lyric

The Minstrel stopped walking and looked directly at Cesare until he also stopped and turned back to her. Lyric's mouth hung open and her eyes were wide. She thought through the story again. In truth, it didn't actually matter what Jerverillon, or whatever, actually was. This was a recollection story. A recounting of true events, immortalized in a bardic fashion. She should have seen this. It was masterful from that perspective in that it allowed audience, herself, to accept the protagonist characters as anyone they themselves might recognize. But, that it had true and personal meaning for Cesare, and given the events that have transpired the tale becomes an homage. That understanding revealed to Lyric the underlying subtext.

Lyric smiled and nodded and clapped. "I understand now. it is so very good. You honor your friends, but make it a story that is accessible to a wider audience."

Accepting her weakness, she felt a little sheepish before her story-teller friend. "I am sorry that I could not grasp this better. There is so much I don't understand. Forgive me... Your story is truly inspired, and offers great honor to friend now and friends past."

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


Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … Tomomi, Henrik, Dominic and Miss Emerald

“Yoiks!”

Dominic’s eyes went wide as he looked down next to him, blinking as he shared a look both conspiratorial and panicked with his Mouse.

“That’s the problem with here! Not enough corridors. We need more corridors or maybe one that’s just a big circle that we can tell folks, oh, that Korie lad, follow me, he’s just down this corridor, it won’t be a heartbeat …”

His words invoked an image of a small Mouse in a chaste cloak leading some poor noble or high caste person on a very long tour of Talantal Keep. Scrabbling to his feet he looked first at Missus Miller and her husband.

“Danks …”

And then he looked at Keiko.

“Even more danks …”

Then it was his turn to escape, and since down the path was definitely out he turned and trotted after Henrik. Miss Emerald, whose expression had finally softened, perhaps because she knew what was coming and smiled, followed him.

“Morning! Or afternoon! Are you going up to the tower? That’s pretty grand, isn’t it? I bet you have all sorts of important tasks up there!

“Me? Oh no, I’ve not been to the Tower.”

Dominic, of course, wasn’t lying. He had just neglected to include the word ‘today’. He continued on his friendly prattle.

“You’ve been here before, right? But have you ever been all the way out to the very edge of this rock? No? cor! The view of the village is the absolute best and there’s this breeze that comes off the fields that hints of dandelions and wildflowers. It’s different every time you visit and it’s always nice.

“Come … come. Whatever business you have in the Tower can wait; what is life if you can’t take time to sample what is beautiful, ja? The tower will be there forever. What makes the trip from Talantal to here wonderful, that, that is gone in an instance.

Playfully, the mischievous rapscallion tugged upon Henrik’s sleeve, guiding him towards the rock’s northern most outcroppings and away from the Tower. It was always hard to deny a Dominic when he was taking up his friendly traveler role. The courier was only able to get a few words in edgewise.

“Do. Do. Do. Do I know you?”

Dominic just smiled as his companion Mouse face palmed.

“Nin, nin, nin - I’m just this guy from a small village, a village so small …

The young lordling knew it was for the best. That if someone was to darken Thomas’ day, it was far better if it was an overly inquisitive Merchant Prince than the two of them. For Keiko, however, what was most apparent was the twitching of Tomomi's whiskers when the Rhoni mentioned the potential arrival of the leader of the Merchants. Her forever friend nodded and suddenly hugged Keiko tight, whispering as she did.

“He scares Mice. He says he’s our friend. But he’s not. Lady says never ever, ever say anything to him that you don’t want told to someone else.

“Lady says two types of trade. Most folks trade for each other. Merchant Princes. Trades for themselves only.”

Tomomi didn’t step back before she took Keiko’s advice and jumped to the dormer window seat, to just peek out and watch over her companion. But that was a good thing. It was like the hug never ended.

Which left, of course, the introduction to the Marrennen. She had seen him before of course, and what Tomomi had intimidated felt true – she had never seen him come from his camp until the second Market, though anytime a large crate – probably containing bars of acquired Darksteel - was sold by the Forest Folk it went directly across the bridge to his wagon. He did seem a bit surprised when Keiko skipped down to meet him, knowing her shopping habits in return.

“Oh, Miss Rhoni-lass, and a fair day to you. I wasn’t bound for the Tower quite yet, in fact I was following the good Lady’s lead. While one might hope that those in the Tower knew what was happening within their village, at the least Master Thomas’ view is always looking to the southeast!”

Looking between the two women, the Merchant rubbed his chin.

“The Brave and Fearless kind one here …”

He nodded to Bekkah.

“… was to escort me to greet those who accompanied her upon her Strange and Mysterious Adventure in the Forest Most Dark. She spoke of Immortal Princes and the Eastern Curse that came from such a gift. Does this mean that you were one of her Companions?

“If so I would love to hear your Tale, for it is one that would race up and down the Highland Path faster than a wildfire – especially if it means that the Dirkwood Forest can be successfully explored and its riches made available to us.”

For some reason his use of the word ‘us’ did not sound very inclusive.

Cesare’s recollection story held Lyric’s attention during the exchanges upon the big stone outcropping. They two continued upon their path; though all it took was a glance upwards to see Keiko and Bekkah speak with the Merchant Prince or Dominic leading the courier to a comfortable overlook. Keiko and Bekkah could be easily joined because they were, indeed, along the path that would take them to Missus Miller – though it seems the serving of a midday meal might now have been missed.

There was one thing missing from Cesare’s story.

Recollection songs were always quite popular in taverns and around campfires; they let one live vicariously through the adventures of others.

But often they never spoke to the why and wherefores, as if they paled beneath the dering-do.


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Cesare

He smiles.

"That you enjoyed the tale is enough.. and yes it was told to honour my friends."

He deliberately missed out some details - where it took place as he does not want to create bad feeling towards those that live there, especially those responsible. And of course that he was there too. He hadn't lied. His description was of a man who worked for Rory, which he had been doing. His involvement was unnecessary.

"So shall we join Bekkah and Keiko?"

He points ahead with a smile.

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Lyric

The Minstrel nodded in acceptance. It was time to regroup and figure out what happens next.

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

“You may call me Keiko, m’Lord,” she said with a curtsey. “It may be an all too common name among the Rhoni, second only to Yuri perhaps, but it is my name, and it’s fortunate that I like it, nin? Names can be like stories, don’t you think, sir? Having a good story is a comfort.”

Knowing merchants’ general disdain for the Caravans and the Rhoni, it wasn’t likely the Marrennen could gainsay her name’s popularity. Yuri most assuredly was the most popular Rhoni name — the fact that the Lady Bekkah’s mother bore the name pointed not only to frequent visits to Dawnview Vale by Rhoni through the Ages but that it was a name that persisted in popularity. However, the second most popular name was always in flux between a collection of a half dozen names. Keiko was one of those names. Usually.

“Ah, the adventure.” She sighed as she smiled. “I did not see the Immortal Prince whose offer of matrimony she so bravely denied. So if you mean companion in the sense that I stood by her side, no, good sir, I certainly was not! Oh, by seas and stars, I would have likely fallen faint at the sight of such a man. Should a man, no matter how elevated in his station, attain Immortality? Perhaps in the First Age when King Yrick built his Bright Empire that was appropriate. But now? Oh, that is a truly frightening thing, my lord! But Lady Bekkah is as brave as she is kind.”

Keiko paused, tilting her head to the side.

“I have some training in the Lore of my people, who collect — much as you do — stories from everywhere. There are so many tales of the Forest, m’Lord! Who can say what might be true and what might be considered just fanciful poems? Take as an example that bard from Trundle who has sent spinning around the Tarn a fanciful tale about Dall Gwynn. Oh, it is quite rightly a fancy tune! Charming and easily caught in one’s memory, nin? But as to the truth of it?” She smiled brightly. “It does seem a bit silly, and I certainly mean no disrespect to its author for the most popular tunes are often the ones that are most fun, ja? That it sends the fourth and fifth sons of poor farmers off adventuring to find the magical land could be seen as both a blessing and a bane, don’t you think, m’Lord?

“But an Eastern curse upon the Forest? As I have learned the Lore, reverent sir, it could just as surely be a Coven curse or a more dreadful Sorcerer’s curse. I have heard all such stories, m’lord. Why, I might venture to guess that all could be true in some measure!

“As for my small part of the tale...” She waved a dismissive hand in the general direction of the bridge. “...it is hardly worth mentioning to your august self, m’lord. I was inside the strange keep with three companions.” Keiko looked all around — up the stairs toward the tower, down the stairs toward the farms, across the market field and even toward the bridge itself — a puzzled look on her face. “They all seem to have found elsewhere to be. But our part was so small. Just rescuing a poor lost soul, one of the Forest’s Children. Oh, such a poor, frightened child!

“I did see a Priest of Hastur, though! I recognized the robes, m’lord and thought that I should have been more impressed by the man. Alas, his finery was less fine that your own — and I’m sorry for the heresy, Lady Bekkah, but Lord Marrennen did ask — and he was... well, old. Not old like a grandparent, if that makes sense, good sir.” Here, her voice fell to a whisper. “Old like skin stretched unnaturally over bones like there was a sickness about him. He moved with appropriate vigor and had no stench of death about him as his passed my hiding place, and there was not one thing to say that there was a curse upon him and yet I did feel a shiver of dread when he passed by.”

Keiko shook her head and took a deep breath. “No one wishes to be in the sight of a Priest of Hastur, even in the best of circumstances. I think this is something we can all agree is true, although a brave Healer such as Lady Bekkah would not have the fear others would.”

She paused and looked thoughtfully at the merchant. “And as one who is always striving to be a good and thoughtful person, I would assuredly recommend against wandering too close to the Forest. Its nature does not seem to have changed, m’Lord, for it is still cursed. Perhaps there is now a small piece of it that has been rendered less dangerous, but it is still surrounded by all the fullhand upon fullhand upon fullhand of ravenous trees. It is a well-known story that the youngest Korie Lord once ventured near the Forest and was nearly eaten by a tree.”

The fact that Dommi probably started that tale wandering across the whole of the Heartwood didn’t detract from the fact that the story was, indeed, well-known.

“But the riches of the Forest, my Lord Marrennen?” The young Rhoni smiled sadly. “The greatest riches are the Forest’s Children, whom the gods now see as true persons. A mere lass such as myself would not know of their affliction, but Lady Bekkah did. And surely you must have seen it, too, my Lord, being a faithful Priest of Lord Marrennen. Oh, yes, you might call me a silly romantic, and I won’t be the least bit offended by it. But the riches of the Forest lie in the friendships with the Forest’s Children.”

She nodded solemnly, then her eyes lit up with happiness as she spied her friends’ approach.

“Oh, Lord Marrennen, if you wish a tale of true valor and derring-do, speak to our companion Cesare here, who worked so cleverly to prevent the foul dwarves from harming more of the Forest’s Children. Why, he even made a little work song that is so delightful that the Forest’s Children were still singing and humming it when we ventured back to this fair village.”

She gestured toward Cesare and Lyric, who were a mere step now below Lady Bekkah.

Keiko had said little to the Marrennen that was not commonly known, and the things that might be considered new either warnings or of little consequence. The description of the Hastur priest was a small piece of information he might like — it was colorful enough to weave into a Warning Story, yet not particularly significant in the greater scope of the adventure. She had no interest in discussing the mines or Dragons or their missing compatriots; therefore, she made no mention of them. She still wanted to fetch a meat pie for Broke and another for Hinata, but until she was dismissed by the Imperial Lady and high-ranking Marrennen, she would remain here.


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Bekkah

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

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

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Cesare

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another step closer and shifting to walk around the Marrennen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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Bekkah

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

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

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Cesare

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

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


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

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

Something his apprentices were still learning.

"Are They now ..."

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

"A treasure you say."

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

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

And then Lyric spoke.

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

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

Then he drew himself up.

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

"And Perhaps I should heed your Dire Warning.

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

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

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

He nodded to Keiko.

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

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

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

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

"I am sure ..."

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

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

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

He stormed further down the stairs.

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

Definitely worth more than a few coin.

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

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

Broke looked down, hood tilting.

The One Rule still hadn't been violated.

The wuff just snorted.

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

"Whippersnapper."





*posted from work*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please. Hurry.”


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Lyric, after speaking to the 'None so Blind'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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Cesare

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

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

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

However he is ready to escort Bekkah down the stairs.

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Bekkah

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

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

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

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

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Grumpy Old Woman

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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Cesare

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

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

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Lyric, on the virtues of being wary.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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Lyric, with a unique view to the world

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Grumpy Old Woman

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

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

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

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

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


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Lyric, too close for comfort

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

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



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

She listened and watched but said nothing.

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


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

"Whuff ..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Guardian's hood tilted.

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




* posted from work *

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Bekkah

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

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

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

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Grumpy Old Woman

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or did she?


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Cesare

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

He grins at Bekkah and then nods.

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

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Bekkah

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

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

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Cesare

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

He looks at the man sizing up the problem.

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

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

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

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

Her grandmothers.

The elders.

Renyard.

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

All the time.

Violet eyes darkened and hardened as she studied the traveler.

Keiko was Keiko was Keiko!

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

Keiko was Keiko.

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

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

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

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

Respect. Recognition of the Teacher.

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

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

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

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


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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?"



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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.

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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.

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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.”


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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.

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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.

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


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

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?"




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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.”




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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.

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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?”


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


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

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?"

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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?"


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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.

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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.

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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!”


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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.

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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.”


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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.”


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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?"

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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. wink]


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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."

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


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

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."



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Bekkah

When the traders backed down, Bekkah, looking again like a docile blond healer who couldn't hurt a fly.

"Safe travels to you good sir. And if you need my help while I am still here, please do not hesitate to send someone for me. I am always available for those who are suffering." she said bowing her head slightly before turning to return to where the others had remained.

As they walked, she spoke to Cesare.

"Thank you for your support."

If he looked at her, he'd notice a satisfied little smile at the corner of her mouth.

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Cesare

He tried hard to smother the grin forming on his face.. really hard and almost succeeded. But then Bekkah had stood her ground against the sharks too so he shouldn't be surprised.

"Good one Bekkah!" he whispers in her left ear, the voice warm and amused.. a yes, a little proud of her.

And then a little louder, giving her the opportunity to withdraw without any loss of face.

"Shall we go join the others, my Lady?"

He offers his arm in respect.

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Verchovai Kassia Dariansdotter

The Dayalan nodded. “He’s likely the brightest Pest on the mainland, which serves him well as he also the biggest Pest.”

If the hint of non-human features gave Kassia pause, even Broke’s sharp senses wouldn’t have been able to detect it. And if Renyard had returned from wherever his travels had taken him, he could have confirmed something that possibly only Khorall Linnell Allaine truly understood about the woman — she knew that those precious Patterns of the Allaines needed the support of connections. And the bonds of friendship were the strongest and most lasting.

“So. The Cobble Block continues to make more friends than enemies. Good. Even better is the fact that she is apparently teaching the Heir how to make friends and not just alliances.”

Kassia glanced at the Rhoni and Minstrel when they returned with the meat pie. They were spared further scrutiny, however, by the arrival of a young Korie lord and a couple of Mice.

The look she gave Dominic Dominie Korie might have been called predatory by some. Perhaps not by actual predators, of course, but it was a look that sent nearly every Temple Dayalan scurrying out of her way. It was an expression that caused the High Priestess to grit her teeth with annoyance, the Khorall of Allaine to hold her head in the palm of one hand with exasperation, the Heir of Allaine to groan at the potential disturbance of the Patterns. That said, she seemed to enjoy the treatment the Pest was receiving from his Lady.

Any reply she might have given Dommi was momentarily delayed by Broke’s interruption.

First, Starlord Priestess Kassia blinked. Then a smile born of experience, calculations and consequences threatened to rival the one she gave Dominic.

“Cuff the High Priestess?”

She turned and addressed Emerald.

“I believe you’ve met all the Wild Dayalans, ja? If you could inform all of us when Broke leaves to present herself at the Temple, I’m sure you’d have at the very least five non-leaky buckets of gratitude when we all gather to witness such an event.

“Poppy’s apprentice and the Cobble Block’s apprentice have yet to meet our High Priestess, so I suspect their buckets of gratitude would be of the leaky sort,” she said as an aside to Broke. “Although, if I understand the nonsense I’ve been told about that one, you’ll have some competition. Apparently, she’s intent on poking everyone and everything with that spear of hers. It’s unclear whether someone or something needs to actively annoy her. I doubt that the Cobble Block would object to you cuffing the youngster as well.”

The Dayalan barely glanced at Dommi as she waved a hand in his direction.

“Your constant protestations of innocence likely amuse your Lady, but the rest of us are quite bored by them. Surely, you’re smart enough to know that had anything transpired that was not innocent, the consequences would have been rather unpleasant.

“In more ways than most people could comprehend.

“And not just for you.”

But then she did look at him, having taken on the persona of Grumpy Old Woman once more.

“I’m serious, Dominic. I don’t mind that you call me an old witch, but your tales of visiting the Heir interest me as much the stories of your very tiny village seem to interest your heart-mate. Some new tales would be appreciated.”

She looked around at the group that had gathered and nodded.

“Good. Now, child,” she said, looking at the bearer of the Meat Pie In a Basket, “let’s see about this meat pie of which you have spoken so highly.”


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Keiko
[pronounced KAY-ko... do you think the GM has memorized this yet? Nope, not yet...]

Keiko regarded her friend for a long moment before smiling brightly. “Friend Lyric, for one who is not a Rhoni, you have a very Rhoni attitude about life! If you had not made it clear that you are from a small, isolated village... why, I would think you might be one of the Lost Rhoni like Cesare is!”

As they approached Broke and the Dayalan, Keiko could see that the two of them were having a serious conversation, one she was loathed to interrupt. However, Dommi and Em and Tomomi arrived from the other direction at nearly the same time.

Dommi’s reaction to the old woman was... was...

Keiko blinked.

Was he actually afraid of the old woman, or was he just pretending to be frightened? If he was acting, then he was every bit as good an actor as Uncle Toshi. And if his fear was real — despite the dissembling regarding Emerald and what looked like an admonishment from Lady Arylis — then maybe a young Rhoni should be even more afraid.

She didn’t have time to think much about the problem before Broke herself interrupted to question the Verchovai. Keiko was almost certain that the Guardian was joking about eating a High Priestess. It wasn’t that Broke wouldn’t kill someone and possibly even eat them if she was hungry enough. It was the fact that Broke wouldn’t kill anyone unless she felt that person was a threat to her people. So, yes. That part had been a joke.

And she’d seen the way Broke cuffed Wrath. Could a human person walk away from a blow like that? Perhaps a High Priestess under the protection of a Goddess could. But Keiko suspected that maybe — just maybe — Broke was joking about that, too.

Except the old woman wasn’t!

In fact, the old woman seemed so serious about it that she wanted all the Dayalans to witness it!

It had been a long time since Keiko had been as confused as she was right now.

The old woman’s chastisement of Dommi didn’t help to lessen her confusion, either. True, the young Tone-Deaf Lord did have a fondness for talking about his very small village, and the Rhoni could envision a day when that story became stale enough to be uninteresting. Maybe what he needed were some pointers on telling a good story. Or perhaps he liked it when Emmi elbowed him in the ribs? It didn’t sound like the kind of courting behavior she’d enjoy, but Dommi was Dommi was Dommi... and Emmi was Emmi was Emmi... so... maybe it was just the sort of courting they both enjoyed.

And he tormented the Dayalan by visiting Dawnview Vale? The Heir herself? That was... Keiko blinked. That was interesting! It was a rumor she hadn’t heard! The Heir of Allaine... friends with the youngest Korie lord... Oh, that was something that would surely add to the general dislike Dommi’s father was said to have for him — assuming the Khorall of Korie knew about their friendship. She was learning more about Kisa Allaine by knowing who the people were in her orbit... and that had been the only way to learn about the Heir. Although Rhoni caravans and individual wanderers regularly visited the Vale, the Heir was an extremely private person.

Keiko just shook her head, but then froze when the old woman’s attention fell on her once more.

“I... well, it’s a large one, Dama, and still quite warm to eat with one’s fingers,” implying that the belt knife that every adult carried would be needed in this instance.

She removed the cloth that covered the basket and tucked it under her belt before holding the basket out to the old woman with both hands. Her eyes sought out Dommi, however.

“I didn’t mean for Missus Heatherson to give us her dinner, I promise, Dommi! She’s said before, on other Marketdays, that there were no more pies. I don’t know why she wouldn’t have said so today. But she offered, and I couldn’t say no, could I? That would have been just as rude, especially when she gave us the most gracious reason possible for sharing.”

It was fairly obvious that Keiko was distressed by having denied the Heatherson family their meal of a meat pie, even if it was the goodwife’s own decision. Missus Heatherson’s stew was probably every bit as good as her pies, but still... after the debacle when Dama Kadri and Mikal had swept into town, the Rhoni was worried that she had misjudged the protocols of hospitality. Her eyes betrayed her youth as they seemed to plead with their Young Master for understanding.


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Bekkah

She accepted Cesare's arm with a smile.

"Yes, let's."

They made their way back to where the others were sharing a meat pie. The delicious smell made it easy to find them.

She noticed the elderly woman and the recognition was instantaneous.

She gave the woman a slight bow of her head.

"Verchovai Kassia, what a pleasure to see you. A surprise indeed. What has brought you this far from Dawnview Castle? I hope you have have not come all this way looking for my sister."

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[OOC: They're all outdoors on the stairs leading up to the Millers' home and tower -- first Keiko, Lyric, and Tomomi; then Broke and Kassia; then Dommi and Em. If you want to use a title, you can use "Verchovai."]


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Lyric, hoping for the 'seen and not heard' treatment

The Minstrel smiled with a sense of serenity about her person, and then broke the moment with a wink. "Maybe somewhere and somewhen our people's paths might have crossed..."

And then she looked past the Rhoni card reader, to the ground, spotting a few more flowers and she moved agilely to squat before them. Her entire attention was focused on them now, and a smile broadened on her face.

She would follow her friend soon enough and rejoin the gathering on the stairs but she was content to the stand in the background as she worked at weaving a dozen or more of the late season flowers she had gathered into a new circlet.

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Dominic Dominie Korie and Miss Emerald Mouse

"My Dominic's Village is the village I always wanted to come from ..."

From beneath the enveloping folds of Dominic's cloak came quiet words. They were Miss Emerald's quiet tones, both light and serious and filled with something just a little more. It was obvious that the feelings between them were not one-sided, not one sided at all.

"When I first learned of that strange little place my home was a dark square of stone, because I was only allowed to see what They wanted me to see. My Home was a cold place with no windows; it wasn't a place - as I was later to learn - to live, it was a shelf to keep a tool safe between that tool being used."

While the words were directed to the grumpy and stern Dayalan, and while they were strong they were also soft and gentle.

"They had put him in a place like mine; they must have known. They had taken his cloak and they had made sure that there was just darkness, without light and thus no shadows. What they didn't realize that there were some fissures in the rock, slim enough to carry sound. They allowed us to speak.

"I never heard a woe is me or a how can I be saved.

"I heard about a place of wonder. One that was absolutely ridiculous, could not be true, and yet filled with people who - despite their oddness and contrary ways - all cared for each other. They had nothing. But they shared everything. One breakfast roll. One holiday for all the year. Names. It was better than a potato in my soup.

"For the first time in my life, I smiled.

"But it was more than that.

"For the first time in my life, there was someone who, for no reason at all - save that I was me - just wanted me to laugh."

The little mouse was quiet for a long set of heartbeats.

"That's the only reason why he tells them, you know.

Emmi held her breath, a soft pause, before continuing.

"I will never ever get tired of listening to Dominic's stories of his little village."

Emerald was still for a handful of moments more. Dominic simply shrugged his shoulders. He opened his mouth as if to say something and then just shook his head and smiled. No need to say anything else. Until Emerald spoke again, in a simple, sing-song manner, as if one was listing off items to be bought at the next market.

"As for the Heiress. It wasn't a matter of what he said or to whom. It was ...

"A matter of where."

Dominic blinked. Emerald smiled; it was her mischevious smile. Dominic immediately reentered the conversation.

"Yikes! And now it's time to address other matters, most important matters, of the right here and now, ja? Da? Yah? Fi'laa! Yes? Hoi! Tiam!

"Fair Keiko!

"Far worse, far, far worse, would it have been to incur that goodwife's wrath; rest assured, you did the absolute best thing. True, she offered up her dinner for sure. But in doing so it also answers that unspoken question of why ..."

Dominic smiled.

"Why I like coming from a small village and not the biggest Keep."

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Cesare

So the woman, Bekkah knows her. And Daxia too. Many snippets of past conversations return to his head.

**Then this woman was Daxia's mentor?**

He couldn't think of a better word but he remembers that Daxia had respect for her.. and that was enough that he did too. But this is not a conversation that demands his participation and so he stays quiet.

As he listens to Emmi and then Dominic though, he smiles. A nice story and a reminder of what they had achieved for all the other creatures locked away in that dark place underground. He cannot imagine a much worse fate. Not to see the sun again, to feel a breeze ruffle his hair, to bathe in the sharp cold of a small river, to go where he wishes, to associate freely with those he wishes. Freedom is a lot more than a word.. and worth more than any precious stones.

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Keiko
[pronounced KAY-ko... do you think the GM has memorized this yet? Nope, not yet...]

The Rhoni visibly relaxed and smiled at Emmi’s story, her obvious teasing of Dommi, and finally his response.

“Well, m’lord, I think the stories of your little village — as outrageous as they are — are only slightly more inventive than the reality of the Caravans.” She grinned at him.

Nodding a welcome to Bekkah and Cesare, she looked back over her shoulder at Lyric, who was once more weaving flowers into crowns.

Yes, maybe her friend was right — perhaps once upon a time, long ago, a Caravan of Rhoni might have met some of the people from her little corner of the world that she called Kethy’s Wood. Anything was possible, she supposed.

Keiko looked at the Dayalan when Bekkah spoke to her, but the old woman was gazing quite sternly at Dommi again. She was grateful that learning the Dances had ensured that she had the strength and agility to hold a family-sized meat pie for this long. However, she wasn’t going to be able to hold the basket up forever. Still, it wasn’t her place to command her elders nor was it in her nature to complain. This was just another moment, another opportunity for learning.


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Verchovai Kassia Dariansdotter

“Young Bekkah,” Kassia said, inclining her head slightly. “My business here is my Lady’s, something I’m sure you can now understand.” One corner of her mouth quirked up slightly. “I’m told the Cobble Block is delivering both your apprentice and her own to your hospice in Talantal.

“Your hospice, Lady Yurisdotter, not the Korie’s hospice. So, no... I have not come to seek her out. Not yet, anyway. She may need another year or two before the sight of me ceases to frighten her into senselessness.”

She regarded Bekkah for a long moment.

“Quite clever, that business with the hospice. I suspect that between you and your sister, the Allaine Heir has been surprised more often since leaving the Vale for this year’s Council than she has in the entirety of her life.” She glanced around at the Atteran’s companions before holding Bekkah’s gaze for a moment. “Thank you,” she added in impeccably accented Imperial. “It has been good for her.”

And then she looked at Dominic and Emerald, listening to the entirety of the Mouse’s tale.

“I once saw his little village, Lady Emerald. I was a child and it seemed to glitter with all the gold in the realm. I have spent most of my life in the shadows of the Black and Dawnview Mountains, serving a Goddess and advising a family despised by most of the people in his small village. You’ll forgive an old woman, I hope, who is merely weary of the boy’s incessant nattering.

“However, you express your enjoyment of his stories quite well. You add clarity to whatever nonsensical notions are rattling around in the lad’s head at any given moment. Fortunately for most people concerned, once the Heir takes up the mantle of Khorall, the problem of the Pest shall be turned over her Knight and the Koromov.”

The Dayalan raised a single eyebrow at the Mouse’s last comment and stared at Dommi while he answered Keiko.

“You’re too clever for your own good, Dominic. I assume that was the screech heard all through the Castle and as far away as the Temple. And I trust you have since learned the Heir’s routine.”

Finally, she turned to the Rhoni and the meat pie, and pulled the small all-purpose knife from its sheath on her belt. However, rather than cut into the pie, she gestured for the girl to set it down on the wide stone step and took a seat.

“Sit, sit... all of you. The Miller appears to be done with most of his business for the day. While not as wide as the steps of the Temple, as long as we do not impede the sparse traffic this late in the day, this is a charming place to converse.

“Bekkah, come, sit here,” she said, pointing to the step beside her. “I’d like a human’s point of view regarding some of the more outrageous things Sunfire claims your sister has done.”

Finally, she cut off a bit of the pie’s crust, stabbed a piece of meat, a small carrot, and a piece of potato. She ate the small amount of pie slowly, then nodded just as slowly when she was finished.

“You may inform your Missus Heatherson that her meat pie is, indeed, one of the finest I have found on the mainland, Card Reader.”

Before beginning her conversation with Bekkah, however, she looked at Lyric — almost as though she was looking into the Minstrel’s soul.

“And do stop trying to hide, Music Weaver. You have been claimed as kin by Furball,” Kassia said, gesturing to Broke. “Therefore, you have nothing to fear from me.

“So,” she said, turning to Bekkah, “your exploits have become the things of legend. While unsurprising to any of us who saw your potential when you and your sister came to the Temple, I suppose you find the fuss beyond ridiculous, da?”


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Lyric

The Minstrel did not fear the Old Woman. Perhaps maybe she should have feared her, but the Old Woman had not given her reason to fear her yet. Why fear something unknown?

Lyric knew fear, all too well, and she knew what it was to feel it. The scars she still bore on her body, concealed by the layers of her dress, were a stark reminder to her how close she came to a final breath.

She knew what it was to be hunted, to be prey, to be run to ground over days and days. When pain, exhaustion, and dehyration combined to weaken a body, the mind becomes vulnerable. Fear then takes up the hunt as well.

So no, she did not fear the Old Woman, but it was reasonable for someone to interpret her behavior as such. Lyric would not dispel this notion either. She offered a shy smile in lieu of a verbal response.

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Bekkah

She had to smile at the 'Young Bekkah' title. None other called her that. It seemed the opposite was more likely.

"Well yes, the idea was more Romana's and well yes, it was enjoyable to push back against those who considered the poor beneath their attentions. The girl has a very good heart and the people took to her immediately, despite her origins. I think a couple of other apprentices have had their eyes opened a bit wider into what our Lady truly wants from them."

She moved and sat by Kassia and rolled her eyes at the last comment.

"Indeed. I had little to do with it. My Lady decided the forest folk were more than worthy, I simply asked on their behalf, nothing more."

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Verchovai Kassia Dariansdotter

Kassia chuckled. “This is something we understand — those of us who come to truly know our Deities — that we are merely the vehicles through which they show themselves in the World.”

The Starlord looked across the field toward the Forest, studying it pensively. “The underlying curse on the Forest allowed a power-hungry Imperial to create even more chaos. What you did here had the best possible outcome that could be expected at this time.”

Kassia looked back at Bekkah with a raised eyebrow.

“We both know it would be your sister’s instinct to restore the Forest to its proper state,” she said. “If she hasn’t already realized it is healing among the Coveners themselves that first needs to be achieved, then she is still enough of a cobble block to have tried — despite claims to the contrary by that Unicorn of hers.

“I don’t doubt Kisa’s stated motives for traveling to the Larsen’s domain, but I also know Kisa rarely has but a single reason for anything she does. Her instinct is to guide her Knight in ways that will best suit her Patterns. I am not always confident that her impulse leads to real balance.

“Which circles us back to the matter of your hospice. The relationship between Allaine and Korie has shifted, causing ripples among the other Noble Families. I hope you’re paying attention over there, Pest,” she said as an aside, not bothering to look at Dommi before continuing her comments to Bekkah. “Within Talantal itself, you have picked out a thread from the tapestry of the Imperial court, and that might lead to real change there. We can pray that it will be so. Perhaps it will lead to a village for young Dominic where they need not share a single name or have but a single holiday. He might find that a village sharing three or four names and two holidays rather enjoyable.

“If I might make a suggestion...”

Kassia regarded the two Rhoni and the Minstrel intently before nodding and meeting Bekkah’s gaze.

“It might be wise for you, young Bekkah, to avoid Talantal for a few seasons. Allow your apprentice to become settled in her role. Lady Anastasia’s... reputation has spread farther than even your own. And miracles tend to follow in your wake.” Kassia leaned over and patted Bekkah’s hand. “There is nothing more you can do now for the Noble Family Korie.

“Your sister has a quest to visit the relatives I neglected to tell you about when you lived in the Vale. I think you might benefit from knowing them.” She leaned back and folded her hands in her lap. “I will apologize to you for having kept them a secret, but it was important that Daxia learn the lessons she found outside the Vale before she could appreciate the knowledge they can share.”

There was another hint of a smile from the elder priestess.

“For all that everyone remarks on your sister’s resemblance to your mother, you do share her heart. Tasha will see something of Yuri in each of you.”


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Bekkah

She knew from when she was young, that one could learn much by listening without interrupting, so she let Kassia say what she had to say.

When she was done, she raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Relatives? Who and where?"

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Verchovai Kassia Dariansdotter

The look Kassia gave Bekkah was one Daxia would have recognized all too well — someone, somewhere had done something utterly unacceptable to the priestess, and she was not the least bit happy about it.

“There is a certain unicorn lurking out of sight and earshot who had better hope that he is not the source of this misinformation,” she grumbled. “There are far more of them than the Temple Dayalans believe, and I suspect their favorite pastime is gossiping among themselves.

“I was informed that Kisa told Daxia about Tasha Starwatcher and her granddaughter Akane Starwatcher. I was assured that Daxia was overheard telling you about them. I was led to believe that the Cobble Block is planning a visit to them after seeing that the Heir is returned home safely.”

She snorted. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time those gossip mongers were wrong.

“Tasha Starwatcher is your grandmother. She had two daughters — Yuri, your mother, and Mila, your aunt. Given what I know of the woman’s reputation, I don’t doubt she had high expectations for her daughters.” Kassia shrugged slightly. “Your grandfather Rolf reportedly died in a hunting accident when the girls were young. Living up in the Highbeck Jambles... well, jambles are rugged places, and even the simple things can be dangerous.

“Yuri ran off with a Darksteel swordmaker, your father Eelia, and eventually settled along the southern shore of Sapphire Lake.

“Mila went to a Midsummer Festival at Glacier Keep. Perhaps only Tasha was surprised when Akane was born the follow Poet.”

Kassia regarded Bekkah for several long heartbeats. “Mila barely lived long enough to see her daughter and whisper her name. It was not long after that word would have reached Tasha that Yuri had died, leaving her two young daughters in the Temple’s care.” She sighed so softly that it was a sound barely heard. “Perhaps that explains why she became even more of a hermit.”

The older woman seemed to look through Bekkah for a moment before shrugging.

“Akane’s childhood would have been no easier than your sister’s, for Tasha is as stern a teacher as I am. And it was no doubt lonelier. I am aware that Daxia relied heavily on my sister Gilly. Tasha rarely allowed visiting Starriders to stay more than a week. Once Tasha saw in her granddaughter the same potential I saw in your sister, the same potential Catherine saw in you — in Akane’s case, to be the finest Starwatcher in generations...”

This time, Kassia shook her head.

“I suspect some of your Lady’s Compassion would do both of them a world of good. Oh, your grandmother will be pleased by your accomplishments — both yours and the Cobble Block’s. But I think seeing the sort of women you’ve become will give her heart some peace.”

She glanced slyly at Bekkah’s friends, adding as she looked directly at Cesare, “A Minstrel and a Card Reader would not be unwelcome guests. But you might find yourself tossed off a glacier if you were caught looking at your friends’ cousin, lad. The elder Starwatcher has no fondness for Rhoni men, I’m afraid,” the Dayalan said with what might have been an apologetic half-smile.


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Cesare

"Wouldn't be the first time I've been somewhere I wasn't welcome."

He shrugs eloquently in a c'est la vie sort of gesture, then inclines his head respectfully.

"But forewarned is forearmed as they say.."

He smiles.

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Lyric, how many questions can one girl have...

Bekkah and the Old Woman spoke. Actually, the old woman did most of the speaking. Cesare even said a little in response to an admonition she offered him. Lyric realized that she felt a little defensive of her Rhoni friend and, despite him brushing off the words in good humor, Lyric knew in her heart that he would not be the only one getting thrown off that glacier, whatever a glacier was, should such a thing transpire in the first place.

In the periods where the Old Woman spoke, Lyric leaned a little closer to Keiko to whisper into her ear from just over her shoulder.

"I am having a hard time following this... so many names. Will you explain all of this to me later?"

...and she then realized she had another question as the Old woman addressed Cesare. She leaned in again, "What's a glay-shur?"

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Keiko
[pronounced KAY-ko... do you think the GM has memorized this yet? Nope, not yet...]

She had been oddly relieved that the stern Dayalan found Missus Heatherson’s meat pie beyond merely acceptable. Keiko had traveled more widely than most people ever did — and on both sides of Kh’Lhy’Ra Pass, too! That someone from Dawnview Vale praised it meant that they’d be traveling where meat pies were not as good... but perhaps there were other culinary wonders she had never found on her journeys.

She tried to follow the conversation between Lady Bekkah and the old woman, but other than the talk about family, the only thing that really made much sense was that... maybe they shouldn’t travel through Talantal? After making sure Tomomi had a piece of carrot, the Rhoni’s brows furrowed as she nibbled on a bit of meat. That meant the overland route along the Flowered Path. Except Dommi had made it sound like that might not be the best route.

Keiko was so confused!

But she did look over her shoulder to smile at Lyric. “I will explain as much as I understand. Of course!”

She hoped that mulling things over for a little while would help it all settle into place. At the moment, it felt like things were just at the edge of her understanding. She did understand the woman’s warning to Cesare. However... it seemed like Lady Bekkah’s grandmother would more likely be antagonistic of Rhoni men who were quite a bit older than Cesare. Oh. Well, perhaps she feared the granddaughter was much like the daughter she lost? It seemed a little silly, but very often the Gaija had the oddest opinions about the Rhoni. Ah, well. Let the sleeping shaggy sleep, as Grandmother always liked to say.

As they sat on the stone steps, She was coming closer to the end of Her journey on this Marketday. Lyric’s last question brought much of the joy back to Keiko’s heart as she chuckled.

“I’ve never seen one, but Uncle Toshi has described them to all of us. He has been to the Highgaard Reaches and saw their jambles and their glaciers.” Keiko looked over at Dommi, then up at the tower. “I think our friend Dommi has seen actual glaciers, though. Perhaps he will tell us about them, as truthfully as he knows how.”

She sprang up and held a hand out to Lyric. “Come watch Her setting with me from the top of the tower. Mikkie won’t mind. He likes company, even if he’s all quiet and pretends to be sleeping up there.” She grinned and looked at her companions. “You’re all welcome, of course. Dommi, tell us about glaciers!” Then she giggled. “I’m going to be comparing your story to Uncle Toshi’s, you know.”

Keiko waited to see if Lady Bekkah and Cesare would also join them. She knew Broke rarely went farther up the stairs than the mill and that it was coming close to the time she and the rest of the Forest Folk returned to their little Home. She couldn’t be sure but suspected that the Verchovai was more interested in talking with Broke than the rest of them. Still... there was plenty of room for all of them at the top of the tower, even if it did mean Mikkie might have to stand up to make a little more room.


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Lyric

The Minstrel accepted the hand, with as much enthusiasm as she would have if this simple trip to the top of the nearby tower were the grandest of adventures to gather flowers and apples. To understand this comparison of points, one needed to understand Lyric herself. Lyric was Lyric was Lyric. Be it apples and flowers, or venturing deep into the dark, dangerous and foreboding expanse of forest wilderness to execute a plan of her own crafting knowing she would bear the weight of consequences, or even a short climb to watch the sun set from atop of a stone tower, Lyric's sense of self never wavered, although the way she interacted with the world around might offer an appearance suggesting otherwise.

Her eyes were alight with mirth and mischief at the very thought that she might do something, anything, other than listen to the old woman drone on and on about places and people whose names meant nothing as of yet to her. Of course her personal thoughts were her own, and probably worth very little currency in a broader scope of the greater, wider world called the Heartwood and those lands that might touch upon it. And so, these thoughts would remain private, veiled in the 'lace and leather' that were the swirling layers of Lyric's psyche.

And, in that quiet voice, whilst holding Keiko's hand she quipped, "If he tells us that his glay-shur was so small that everyone he grew up with had to share one thing or another, well then, I think I might plunk him with an apple core." And to that she laughed. It was true she amused herself with her own words all too often. On the other hand, she also knew she was easily amused.

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Cesare

Well he and Bekkah had come up the steps to talk to Keiko and Lyric and it seems they must move again in order to do so.

"We'll join you if we may? Things to talk about."

He nods respectfully to the old woman before turning to Bekkah.

"Coming?"

Then he follows the two girls.

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Keiko
[pronounced KAY-ko... do you think the GM has memorized this yet? Nope, not yet...]

Knowing that Tomomi’s method of travel was quite a bit different than hers, Keiko smiled and waved her Forever Friend toward the tower. Whether she ventured up to the top of the tower or waited at the base would be Tomomi’s own decision. Then Keiko leaned closer to Lyric and, assuming that Dommi would hear her, replied, “Oh, he knows that I know that glaciers are very large. They’re much bigger than his tiny village, in fact. So I think you should save the apple cores for all the many horses of Lady Bekkah and Cesare.”

She, too, laughed. “But if our Tone Deaf Lord decides to exaggerate in the wrong direction, perhaps we should work together to weave him a lovely crown of flowers and ribbons. Something that matches the pretty colors Emmi is collecting on her tunics, ja?”


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


Bekkah, Lyric, Cesare, Keiko … Tomomi, Broke and a Grumpy Old Woman.

The Guardian held up one gauntleted hand upon the offer of a piece of their collective dinner.

"Nin danks ..."

Broke seemed quite content in listening to the conversation wheel around the small group - listening carefully as the Dayalan picked on her best friend Fox. Her gaze did stray. She watched over the closing of the market, she kept a wary eye at the Marrennen camp across the bridge. Though as the others sat down for their meal she did offer a nod to the west. For Kassia, it may have seemed like a simple offer of respect for Her as she descended towards the edge of the sea. Those who had been out beyond the Stonewall - and perhaps the one companion not on the stairs - however, suspected differently.

That it may have been a subtle sign that it was fine for a certain pack member to stand down.

"Save me a piece."

That was Broke's very sure and firm command concerning dinner. When Kassia looked back, at that rejection of offered hospitality, from deep inside that one particular travel cloak came an equally sure and snorted chuckle. It was followed by the explanation that anyone who had dined at Home could certainly appreciate.

"Meat pies ... or any pies ...

"Most folks find it right uncomfortable watching us Guardians chow down. We tend to get quite enthusiastic ... and we are a practical sort. Table manners are something we have never quite excelled at."

It was another hint, or the Grumpy Old Woman, that her newest student was more unique than she had previously considered.

"That ..."

Broke rested her shoulder against the rock next to her; the vertical rise that was the inside face of the switchback stairs.

"... and We are at work."

The second reason, no matter how experienced or unflappable Kassia might be, was the proper answer. Duty always came first and that was something the tall wuffess always took very seriously. On the less serious side of the conversation, Dominic was also very glad that the conversation had decided to wander elsewhere. Thus he rested behind Miss Emerald, his chin nooked comfortably on her shoulder. It must have been a match made in the heavens, for the small fox and the small mouse was a perfect fit for each other. That her ears were a bit pink and his black cloak kept them perfectly properly covered betrayed that while the young lord may have given up his philandering he had forgotten nothing.

Until the conversation drifted towards the tower. That brought the Korie's head up and a bemused glance towards the little stone structure atop Waverider's Watch. His nose twitched - kind of like something he had picked up from Emerald - and then he frowned a bit and last he whispered in Emerald's ear. What followed next was a most interesting set of events.

First, with an almost imperious air, Dominic straightened, stepped back from Miss Mouse and dusted his hands together. He made a very official proclamation.

"Ahem. I must now collect my due taxes from the Miller family. Mills are very serious business, as anyone who manages any estate, large or small, is certainly aware."

With that he strode officiously back up the stairs, disappearing into the small structure that was set quite comfortably next to the mill pond. A few breaths later Emmi took off, at a fast run, up the stairs, across the top, and into the little tower. A long set of heartbeats a rather flustered fellow, holding a sheaf of parchment close to his side, rushed out, down the path, down the stairs and passed the small knot of folks on the landing.

"Excuse me! Excuse me! I have heard the Young Lord is in the village! I must, I must present him with these letters and treatises before he vanishes! He is far too good at vanishing, you know! meat pie? oh! He's probably at the Heathersons!"

Moving as fast as he could - without being reckless - the odd man-at-arms continued on his way. Interestingly, the Heathersons were the most eastern of the homes in the village. Which also made it the most far away.

After he had turned around the big stone and was out of sight did Dominic reappear. His tax, it seems, was a small basket covered with a gingham cloth. Bouncing a few steps down, just enough to be heard, he asked.

"It it safe?

"He's gone, right?

"Now we can go to the tower!"

With a nod her followed in Emmi's footsteps, leading them along the top of the rock to the Korie's smallest holdfast. And yes, it was, very truly and actually, the smallest watch keep across all of Grand Talantal's manors. As for Tomomi, she looked up to Keiko and simply settled in beside her Forever Friend.

"Sometimes walkin' is just nice too."

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Bekkah With Kassia not on the tower yet

"Don't blame the unicorns. I've probably just forgotten what I've heard."

Her words made her think of Finn and she found it curious that her mother had run off with a Darksteel swordmaker.

*Like mother, like daughter.* she thought hiding a smile.

"Well, I would dearly like to see my grandmother. And my sister. I was apart from her for so many years, then we got to travel together and she was gone. We don't seem to be the sedentary types do we?" she said thinking that she might truly enjoy that one day.

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Verchovai Kassia Dariansdotter

She watched as the others left for the top of the tower, her eyes lingering on Dominic for a moment. She would venture up to the top of the rock before first light to greet her Lady. She usually left for others the enjoyment of saying goodnight to Her.

Then Kassia looked up at Broke as she gestured to the remainder of the meat pie. “Go along with you, Furball, and take the leftover pie. I see your people gathering themselves and you, no doubt, have duties that call you. I’ll give you two tasks before you return in the morning — share the pie with at least one of your folk who has never had the pleasure, and give our Lady a proper greeting as She rises over the world.”

As any of Kassia’s former students would have been happy to tell the Wuff, Verchovai Kassia seemed to delight in doling out odd assignments and leaving the student to find meaning in them. At least Broke would be spared the lessons inherent in watching a Noble Heir observe her mother’s court year after year. However, there was no guarantee that buckets would not be used in her lessons.

She shooed the Guardian off as she settled herself more comfortably on the stone step. “Go on, scram.”

It was hard to tell in the lengthening shadows, but the elder Dayalan might have been smiling ever so slightly as she watched her newest student head down the stairs. Then she shook her head before turning to Bekkah again.

“You know, your sister was supposed to have been my last student. My Lady’s sense of humor can be quite sharp at times.

“I don’t blame the unicorns. One can’t lay blame for a being’s actions if they are acting according to their nature. That doesn’t mean we don’t become annoyed with them at times. I merely point out that it is their nature to be less than thoroughly accurate about the information they choose to share with us. Now, you?”

At this, Kassia definitely smiled.

“You’re younger than most Atteran priestesses who have gained the level of power you possess. I doubt that your brain is going soft.” One shoulder shrugged up slightly. “And it has not escaped my attention that Atteran priestesses outside the confines of the lad’s small village have a view of the world that I have not, as yet, had the luxury to understand.”

She looked up, patiently waiting for the first, brightest stars of the night to be visible.

“Yes... you and your sister. I doubt it’s any comfort to you knowing that your many years apart were inevitable. I sensed your potential — both yours and hers — from the moment you arrived at the Temple. Linnell saw the Patterns.”

Kassia didn’t quite sigh.

“The way you looked after her...” She snorted softly. “You came to the realization on your own that you were meant to serve Attera, but I’m sure mine would not have been the only voice in your ear urging you out to Catherine’s hospice if you had foolishly decided to stay in the Vale. You wouldn’t have been happy.”

The old woman’s gaze returned to Bekkah. “Dayalans aren’t meant to be sedentary — not those of us who bear the moniker of Wild Dayalan. When the time is right, you’ll find yourself ready to establish your own hospice. Perhaps a husband and children are also in your future. It wouldn’t be surprising, given your temperament. But you’ll find the tiles turned then, for it will be Daxia who travels the length and breadth of the mainland while you await her next visit.”

She chuckled softly. “Your present concern, of course, is finding your sister. It shouldn’t be difficult — after all, there is only one sensible route from Talantal to the Vale. If the Heir was not traveling with her, I don’t doubt she’d find some less obvious way to Corliss than the Highland Path and the Highgaard Road.”

The Dayalan’s eyes held both laughter and mischief.

“You have before you, young Bekkah, a most intriguing puzzle. As a Lady of Attera, it is incumbent on you to travel where your Lady believes your skills will be most beneficial. That could well be helping to heal your grandmother’s heart.

“Or your Lady could lead you on some merry adventure to anywhere your two feet can take you.

“But let us assume, just for a moment, that your task is to give Tasha Starwatcher the peace she has not known since before even I was born. That is certainly in keeping with Lady Attera’s nature and is a blessing you are uniquely suited to bestow.” Kassia tilted her head slightly as she regarded the younger priestess. “Well, it would mean you and Daxia have the same destination, would it not? The only question is where on the road from here to Glacier Keep your paths will converge.”

Kassia pointed her chin toward the tower, then nodded to Bekkah.

“You have two Rhoni and a waif who is both naive and wise. I’m afraid you’ll need to be the taskmaster here, gather the children, and prod them along. The Card Reader, in particular, seems comfortable enough here to tarry until after the Midwinter Festival before doing what Rhoni do best.”

She leaned over and patted Bekkah’s knee before straightening and brushing a bit of dirt and some crumbs off her tunics.

“It’s good practice for you, dear... this mothering bit. From what I overheard at the markets during my many years in the Vale, looking after a husband is considerably more work than children, younger sisters, and ruff pups combined.

“Besides, I’d really like the lot of you out of my way while I’m training the Furball.”


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


Bekkah, Kassia and Broke ...

"Work's not done yet."

Broke was going to be that kind of student, it seemed. The Guardian didn't move from her post, as she watched over Waverrider's Watch.

She stood her ground until the last of those who wore travel cloaks vanished into the woods.

"Now it is."

Broke paused.

"Fair warning, Gramma.

"I am not a morning person."

And with that, Broke straightened her own cloak over her shoulders and with the distinctive shuffle of plate and chain headed down the stairs. At the base of the stairs she was met; first by the sudden appearance of a small form in a black travel cloak. Then a second one, almost as tall but much more lightly built than the pack leader. If their stance could betray anything it was almost as if both the Lil'un and the Bigg'un were laughing at Broke, the taller one actually poking her presumed better.

Which, of course, was rewarded with a cuff. It was not a light cuffing, to be sure, which did not bode well for the High Priestess of Dawnview Temple. Especially the way the two then danced about each other - it wasn't a human thing, Kassia saw. It was very, very much a wolfish thing. Just exactly what had Dayala gotten her involved in?

Out in the fields, the Kassia was able to finally notice a hint of motion. A third Guardian - one armed with a dangerous looking bow - slowly moved to join the others.

Did the four vanish into the Forest?

Not immediately.

No.

They tarried, but it was a slowness with a purpose. Before they left they stopped in at every farmhouse. It was unexpected, a surprise to the Dayalan and only barely remembered by the Atteran. It seems the Guardians looked after more than their own kind; that they were also tasked with the safety of the human villagers too.

The fate of the meat pie? That the Pack would share, that was a given.

What would Kassia find upon the morrow?

That was a most interesting question.

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Bekkah

She was silent while Kassia spoke. She'd always found that was best. It was a trait her and Dazi didn't particularly share. Her little sister wasn't usually as patient.

"My Lady's will isn't always apparent to me. In all honesty, I've always gone as I wished and she put challenges, I mean opportunities before me wherever my feet took me. So I suppose catching up to my sister to visit my grandmother will present me with new ways of serving my Lady."

"Plus, I would like to see my grandmother. And if I can do her some good, then I would be doubly blessed."

She looked up towards the top of the tower where the others had gone.

"You already know I'm not well suited to leading others around. I can perhaps guide, but I prefer to let them make their own choices and deal with them. It is after all, the same between my Lady and myself." she said with a smile.

"It seems my direction has been decided. When and with whom will sort itself out. Shall we go up to the roof, to enjoy the rest of this day?"

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