[WFRP] The Waters of Life

[Thragka]

The Waters of Life
OOC Thread

The sea wind was still bitterly cold at dawn as seven figures congregated on the slick wharf where the Sannez entered L’Anguille. The rising sun had yet to climb above the city walls, and most of the thin streets and alleyways were still shrouded in the night’s shadows, gently slipping away as the promise of a fine day became apparent in the bright eastern sky. The pilot of the barge leant against a pole on the jetty, the same pole the barge’s rope was looped around. Hood up and arms crossed, it was clear that he had no interest in his new passengers. If the boat had more crew, they were hidden away below decks.

Wheels rumbling over cobbled stone where the street ran parallel to the quay, Marperic d’Abenne’s coach juddered to a halt in line with the barge. The young merchant disembarked without fanfare, waving politely to his latest group of employees as he wrapped his cloak tightly around his thin frame. He was thin, for a merchant, and though he was well-dressed in a green tunic and knee-high leather boots, his outfit was not as ostentatious as the more boastful merchants of the city. It was clear that he was still ploughing his profits back into his business, not yet established enough that he could afford to show off. He made eye contact with each of the six in turn, giving a courteous nod and a friendly smile. It almost seemed that he was checking he knew whom they all were.

As d’Abenne stepped over to the captain to talk in hushed tones, another young man stepped out of the carriage. He seemed almost the direct opposite of the merchant – his garments were undyed, his shoulders were broad and his hands were rough. Running a hand through unruly hair, he flashed a bright smile at the group on the dock. Saying farewell to the driver, who only grunted in response, he began to move the merchant’s goods out of coach and onto the quay. D’Abenne directed the rest of the group to begin moving the goods onto the boat. There were boxes and barrels, rolls of linen and finer fabrics, and heavier roughspun sacks that took two people to lever onto the river barge. All in all, it took no more than ten minutes to empty the coach’s contents and move them below decks. Marperic waited with the captain, letting the new employees earn their pay.

When the goods were loaded, d’Abenne nodded to the coach-driver, who flicked the horses’ reins to spur them home – and, from the driver’s vacant expression, probably back to bed. D’Abenne graciously preceded the pilot aboard the boat. Rubbing his hands together, he addressed the other seven.

“Well, good morning,” he observed. “Glad you’re all here. Ought to get a little warmer as we head inland, gods willing.” He yawned, then seemed to remember himself. “Welcome aboard the Wind Whisper! Our good captain ... ” D’Abenne faltered.

“Henri,” grunted the pilot. Welcome executed, he bluntly walked off to recover the rope from the jetty and set the Wind Whisper in motion.

“Henri, yes!” d’Abenne recovered. “Henri will take us as far as Flers, a town fifteen leagues or so upriver. That’ll probably take until midday. Then we unload, pick up a carriage, and drive towards the charming village of Remy-sur-Orne.” He gestured to the young man that had arrived in the coach with him. “The home town of Laurent, here. He should help us do a bit of business there. We spend one night there and should reach Couronne by tomorrow evening. Simple as that, really!” He beamed. There was no response to his enthusiasm. The boat rocked gently as it began to push through the grey waters of the Sannez, sliding slowly to the centre of the river and leaving the quay to gently fall behind.

Marperic coughed. “This first leg is several hours, as I said, and I’m going to get a bit of shut-eye. I’m sure there are spare berth below decks if you want. Entertain yourselves. Get to know each other.” Without further ado, he gave another nod and departed, stepping lightly through a door in the aftcastle to what was undoubtedly a better bed than any of the others would get.

There was a moment of silence – well, relative silence, as the gull-calls and the water lapping against the boat and the bank competed against the background rumble of the city waking up. The Wind Whisper passed under an arch of stone in the city wall – a moss-encrusted portcullis hung threateningly overhead, daring them to give it an excuse to bite down. It was instantly brighter outside the city boundary, without the wooden houses lining the banks blocking much less sunlight than the stone walls. Laurent looked back at L’Anguille almost wistfully, before turning to the others.

“The city is impressive, but I’m always happy to be heading home,” he said sheepishly to nobody in particular, seemingly unsure of how to address his new companions. “A-as Monsieur d’Abenne said, I’m Laurent. Pleasure to meet you all,” he almost mumbled, eyes darting from face to face.

[Micha Sieling]

Matias Leitmann

Matias, who had taken a moment's rest leaning against the mast, opened one eye to glance at Laurent. With a lazy step, the young man with messy blonde hair came forward, and offered an outstretched hand to his greeter.

"Well met. I am Matias Leitmann. And if there's nothing else, I invite anyone interested to join me below deck for a celebratory drink. Actual work has rendered me thirsty." he said simply, adding a pat on Laurent's shoulder as he walked past to head into the ship.

[Hemnon]

Valerie was sitting up against the mast and listened intently to this Laurent. As he finished his little speech, Valierie nodded to him with a smile and a ''It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Sir.''.


Small description of valerie

Spoiler

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Valerie is wearing a dark green cloak, with it's hood up. the rest of her clothing (the shirt, skirt and boots) are of a brownish green color and in her hands is a wellmade walkingstaff (quarterstaff). She's got a heartshaped face and fairly long hair.

[BlueMagnusStorm]

Siegfried moves from where he was standing near the edge of the boat and examines Laurent for a moment before thrusting out his hand in greeting and saying with a smile "It is nice to meet you.".

[ZeltArruin]

Heinrich was leaning on his hands on the gunwales, enjoying the icy breeze rolling past them, as well as the smells and sounds of being underway. His mind was elsewhere as he stared out at the distant horizon, until he was drawn out of his reverie due to the conversation between the others.

"I'm Heinrich," he started with an overly practiced line in Bretonnian. "Think there will be fight on the way?" He asked Laurent, his accent thick as he stumbled over a few words.


(assuming all this was in bretonnian, right? If not, I guess he sounds smarter in Reikspiel)

[vegetalss4]

Sir Abel D'Celeste

Abel stand next to his trusty horse, Dawn, his hand moving soothingly across her mane to calm her fretting owning to the movements of the boat.
His eye went quickly across his new companions.
None of them appear to be of my stand. Still they seem to be decent folk so no sense in letting that get in the way of things.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances. I am Sir Abel D'Celeste" Abel says with a small nod of acknowledgement before returning to his task.

[-Sentinel-]

The short, thin, dark-haired youth who trailed behind Valerie was not one for small talk. Despite his modest clothes, there was unmistakeable disdain in his gaze when he looked at the dock workers, the boatmen and the rest of the rabble. Something in the way he held himself suggested that he was not particularly happy to be here.

"Simon," he said curtly, avoiding eye contact. He seemed lost in his own thoughts.

He leaned towards the girl and asked in a low voice: "Is Altdorf very far from Couronne?"

[Hemnon]

At Simon's question, Valerie just shrugged and answered with grimace and said ''I'm not really sure... We'd need to go to Marienburg first, then we would head East-southeast. When I first came this way me and... well you know who, traveled in a more cris-crossing pattern which leaves me a little mystified about how long a straight travel-line would take... a week... a month, who other than the gods would know? i can't tell the future.'' Valerie then showed her tongue at him with a sheepish grin following, accompanied with a giggle.

[Thragka]

At Valerie’s laugh, there was a grunt from abaft – the young woman turned just in time to see Henri stop glaring at her, the captain’s eyes darting up to gaze out over the river. It seemed he was none too happy with having a woman aboard his ship. His frown, at least, had not deepened since Marperic had arrived - perhaps it was the entire affair of carrying passengers that was not to his liking.

Laurent shook every hand that was offered to him with a nod, a smile and an enthusiastically firm squeeze; to Abel he offered a clumsy bow. “At your service, m’lord,” he mumbled, eyes uncharacteristically low – but then once again his expression was full of life as he turned back to Heinrich.

“Might be,” he said with a lop-sided shrug. “Plenty of goblins in the forest. They don’t put up much of a fight.” He waved a hand carelessly and shook his head, as though he had years of experience fighting greenskins. “Closer to home we’ve had trouble with bandits, though,” he added in a lower tone, a serious look on his face. “Robbing travellers and traders. That’s the real worry.” He shrugged again. “Having a bunch of guards is good for scaring them off in the first place as much as fighting, if they do decide to raid us.” With a curt nod of his head towards Matias, he made to follow the mercenary. “Coming down?” he asked the others.

“Hey!” roared Henri from the aftcastle, louder than was necessary, as they reached the steps down into the belly of the Wind Whisper. He gave them another few seconds of furious glaring, the wrinkles about his eyes becoming nearly as dark as his moustache. “Wake my son up while you’re down there.” He pulled his hood down over his brow, shielding his eyes from the rising sun – even he couldn’t out-glare that.

~

Below decks, the stairs brought Matias to a dim and dank cabin – with no portholes, light filtered down from above between the planks of the deckhead, illuminating sheets of dust that hung in the air until the young man’s passage sent them whorling away. Behind the steps was a closed door to another cabin in the rear of the boat, seemingly directly below the deckhouse into which d’Abenne had retired. To his left were all the crates and barrels and sacks they were transporting, packed as neatly as the group had been able to manage. An oilskin pall – an old sail, perhaps – had been pulled across them, to at least prevent anything from moving too far away with the rocking of the boat. Opposite the goods was a trapdoor – down to the bilge, Matias guessed.

In the centre of the cabin was a small rectangular table with a low bench on either side. There was a barrel at either end as well serving as makeshift stools – space for about six people to sit around, if they didn’t mind brushing up against each other. Beyond that was an open door to the berths – Matias could see that he had just woken up the boy sleeping in one of them. Cursing, Henri’s son pulled on some clothes and rushed out, pushing past the newcomers and clambering up the steps two at a time.

Laurent retrieved a bag from another bed and rummaged in it for a moment before sitting down on one of the benches. Tossing a couple of bone dice onto the table, he grinned.

“Anyone up for a little wager?”

~

The boy came bounding up the steps apologising to Henri, who only grunted in response. From the look of him, Abel thought, he had a few years left before reaching manhood, but it was hard to tell – his face was youthful, but he was tall and his frame was sinewy. Spotting the knight errant, the boy was paused, seeming paralyzed in surprise.

“Bow, lad,” called Henri, “then see to the rig.” The boy dipped his head frantically before turning to the mast and grabbing a line. As he yanked and tied and knotted sections of the cordage, he kept glancing furtively back at Abel.

“Sorry we can’t get your horse below, m’lord,” said Henri non-chalantly. “Don’t oft carry animals. I’d offer you the guest cabin. Seems your employer already snapped that up though.” Beneath his moustache, there was a hint of a smile on the captain’s lips.

OOC:

Spoiler

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I honestly don't know the first thing about boats, so it's entirely plausible that something I've said is either foolish or impossible. I'm sticking my fingers in my ears and yelling "Poetic license!"

[ZeltArruin]

Heinrich followed the others below deck, he was not one to pass an opportunity to drink, especially when it was to pass the dull travel time on a boat. He took a seat in the middle of the bench opposite Laurent, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of gambling.

"My life is to gamble. I play," he said pointing over his shoulder to the hilt of his great sword, but his poor Bretonnian causing an unintentional loss of meaning to his words. He picked up the dice and looking them over, testing their weight and how the rolled, appearing for all intents as one experienced with dice rolling.

[Micha Sieling]

"And my life, dear colleague, is to win." Matias said to Heinrich, dropping his coinpurse in front of him as he sat down for the game. The little brown sack made a rather unimpressive set of clacks as the few coins inside knocked together. In his left hand he held a bottle of mint liquor. The stained parchment label read "Pfefferminz" in plain, black letters. After a swig, Matias offered the bottle around the table.

He took another glance around the cabin. How quaint he thought.

[BlueMagnusStorm]

"I've not played much but i'll give it a try." Sigfried says as he sits down next to everybody else.

[vegetalss4]

Abel answers without hesitation nor any sign in his face or voice that he had noticed the captains mirth
"You seem to have misunderstood my relationship with monsieur d’Abenne. Nothing so crass as employment is involved. I merely choose to travel in this direction as I protect the good people of Brettonnia and D'Abenne was generous enough to offer to pay for my travelling accommodations as I did so."
Abel holds up a hand and sends an understanding smile to Henri
"There is no need to apologize, it would have been unfair of me to expect a sailor such as your self to be familiar with or understand the social subtleties of the nobility's interactions. Likewise I understand the other problems arising from this lack of understanding"
Then having said his piece Abel returns his focus to calming his horse.

[Thragka]

Like a dog scratching at a scab, Henri had a retort. “That so, m’lord. See lad,” he barked to his son, “that’s why you respect your betters. They understand things different to us common folk. Still, long as His Lordship here fails to understand how to get the ship upriver, I reckon we’re fair equal on that front.” Clearly the man had some bone to pick with the nobility – Abel knew that L’Anguille was a hotbed for jumped-up merchants and burghers that thought something as crass as earning money gave them some right to say how the city should be ruled. It seemed the pilot sympathised with such ridiculous opinions notions.

~

Below decks, Laurent explained the rules of the game to the three who’d joined him, taking the dun dice from Heinrich and tossing them from hand to hand as he did so. The young man seemed full of energy – when he wasn’t fiddling with the dice, he was tapping his foot or absent-mindedly flicking his brown hair out of his eyes. He seemed almost as enthusiastic about teaching the game as playing it, locking wide eyes with everyone in turn to check they understood.

Siegfried nodded happily as he thought of a strategy. Hands went into pockets and purses as a small mound of gold and silver coins were poured, clunking, onto the table – the apothecary raised an eyebrow at how much the others were throwing in. It seemed the hired muscle had plenty of money to throw around. A smile crept over his face when his plan paid off, though, and the others had to laugh when he grabbed a handful of silver off the table and walked away from the bench.

Matias, Heinrich and Laurent kept playing. The mercenary’s bottle was passed enough another couple of times before the others waved it away. Laurent didn’t go easy on the new players, bluffing mercilessly, and although Matias started to get the hang of it after a few rounds, Heinrich’s poor Breton and uncomplicated approach to the numbers resulted in half his earthly wealth disappearing into the others’ hands. He waved it away without care; the game could have gone either way, and he’d surely make it back on this job or the next.

Matias held up a hand after the fifth round – Laurent clearly knew the game inside out, and as good a gambler as the mercenary was, he had no desire to throw his money away for the peasant boy. Laurent had an inconsiderate grin on his face as he counted his winnings and slipped them into a pocket.

The three men stretched their legs. The sounds of the city had faded away, and the slats above were letting more light through their gaps. The Wind Whisper was on its way.

---

1
(Ambience)

The Sannez was unrelenting as it carved its way eastwards to the horizon, offering no respite from the glare of the morning sun. Abel had to step over to the port bulwark, turning his head to stern – and assiduously avoiding Henri’s gaze. The pilot was similarly unconcerned with his passengers, keeping his eyes on the river, the rig and his wheel. Dawn turned in place, testing her footing as the deck lilted and swayed. Eventually she settled down, standing in place – her tale flicked continually, betraying a lingering disquiet.

In time the sun climbed, and before L’Anguille had shrunk entirely away at the horizon the river turned south, letting those that wandered onto the deck see upriver without needing a hood or a hand to shade their brow. The air warmed and the sea wind fell away, although the passage of the Wind Whisper left a slight breeze running from bow to stern – but it was a fine day on the whole, with no threat of cloud in the soft blue sky. The river water lost its grey pallor as they left the pollution of the city and the many small farming hamlets on the riverside – most of the “villages” that were visible from the river were little more than a tavern surrounded by strips of open land. Some of the landscape was taken over by arable land, lines of wheat rippling as the wind made them shimmer like seas of burnished gold. The occasional castle seemed like a lonely stone in a field, grey clumps of towers indistinguishable from the surrounding manor. The occasional copse of trees or small woods were dark brown interludes in the verdant surroundings. As the river turned gently east once more, the southern landscape began to roll softly; far, far southeast, these slight hills would grow gradually sharper, becoming the Pale Sisters – the first of the long stretch of mountains that formed Bretonnia’s border with the Empire.

Time wore on. The river became busier with the day’s traffic, with most other boats passing the Wind Whisper on their way to L’Anguille. The boats weren’t the only things travelling, with fish of all shapes and colours passing between the bulky vessels. Dull green-grey scales and battered fins were visible through the clear water just above the murky riverbed – some large fish were keeping pace with the boat as she made her way upriver. Occasionally they even seemed to be leering up through the layers of water and air at anyone that leaned over the side, cruel jagged teeth momentarily visible. Carnivorous, Laurent explained, and many a sailor had lost a finger by leaving an arm hanging too close to the surface of the water.

Marperic’s estimate had been correct – the sun was nearly directly overhead by the time the Wind Whisper slowed, Henri’s son manipulating the sails expertly. The barge came to a stop alongside a thin jetty, supported over the river by rotten-looking beams that irregularly emerged from the bank. A couple of idle men on the bank watched as the boat came by, catching the ropes that Henri tossed off the side and tethering them to posts. Flers was probably the largest riverside town since L’Anguille, but that wasn’t saying much – it seemed to consist of little more than several clay-and-reed buildings strewn haphazardly along the bank, with dirt tracks radiating out between lively market stalls further back. One of the buildings seemed to be an inn, judging from the stable and a couple of carriages waiting outside.

D’Abenne emerged from the guest cabin looking well rested – at least if the state of his hair was anything to go by. With a few simple gestures, he wordlessly told his hirelings to start moving the goods back to dry land. Once the hard work had been taken care of, he handed over a few coins to the captain and proffered his hand – the captain didn’t look too impressed, but he shook it.

Striding over to his wares on the dock, Marperic wagged a finger at Laurent

“One of those carriages is mine. Take it around here and we’ll load it up.” When the boy had gone, the merchant made the same wagging motion at the other six.

“Alright, gentlemen – and, uh, lady,” he said, seeming to remember Valerie. “I’ve spoken to you all individually. If you need reminding, it’s a gold piece a day for each of you until we get to Couronne, which hopefully means I’m only out of pocket twelve ecu!” He smiled briefly, but then furrowed his brow as he realised his humour was a bit off-taste. “And all expenses paid.

“But.” He raised his finger again, then tapped one of the two dark barrels amid the collection of sacks and rolls of fabric. “But.” He fiddled with one of the lids, taking it off to reveal layers of waxy paper. When he pulled them aside, they saw that the barrel was full of a fine dark powder.

“Blackpowder,” said d’Abenne, “and if I knew you better I’d tell you exactly how much it was worth. More than everything else I’m trading, I’ll tell you that much. Now, I don’t want the boy to know that we’re passing through his sleepy village with this. People get the wrong sort of idea.”

He paused for a moment, nodding his head absent-mindedly. “Now, not to be blunt, but none of you are getting any money until we get to Couronne. But that’s not really an issue,” he continued with a smile, “because that’s what’s going to happen. You’ll protect me, and my goods, and most of all these two barrels, and we’ll get to Couronne with not a hair out of place on my head and not one of these packages unaccounted for, and we’ll all be a little bit richer in a very short amount of time. It’s that simple really.” Marperic smiled, and clapped Matias on the shoulder – his expression wavered as he shook his hand absent-mindedly. Matias had barely felt it.

Laurent came back from the tavern, leading a pair of horses attached to a coach. “Alright,” said the merchant. “Load it up, and meet me inside the inn. I’d say we can all use a spot of lunch before we set off again.” With that, he was off, heading for the tavern door.

[Hemnon]

As d’Abenne began to walk away, Valerie called out to him while running up to him and gave him a courteous bow of her head as she reached him. ''Excuse me, mister d’Abenne sir, Id just like to ask if you'd want me to do heavy lifting like the rest, or if you have something else i should do?'' By the tone of her voice, it didn't sound like she was trying to get out of the heavy lifting, but rather asking if a lady like her could be doing some other kind of work.

[Thragka]

Marperic turned back to Valerie, although for a brief moment he was staring into space somewhere above her head.

"Valerie," he said after a pause. "Ah, when I hired you and ... Simon, the terms were the same as everyone else's. I'm sure you're not scared of one coach journey, or a bit of heavy lifting. But, if you can think of any other work you can do for me, let me know. Until then, I'm sure you can help the others."

With that he nodded, as though everything was perfectly clear.

[-Sentinel-]

Simon made no effort to conceal his amusement at Henri's cold treatment of the knight. Long ago he had understood that, no matter where he went in life and what goods or titles he acquired, he would have to earn it the hard way. And he intended to. One day he would stand higher than this knight, and he would owe no one but himself for it.

He spent most of the travel until now lost in his own thoughts. He was not interested in wagering a single penny of his nine ecu in a game of chance he knew nothing about... His purse was very full by a commoner's standards, but it had taken him a lot of time to gather that gold. He would need every copper of it just to afford decent clothes and food in such a city as Altdorf.

"Valerie," [d'Abenne] said after a pause. "Ah, when I hired you and ... Simon, the terms were the same as everyone else's. I'm sure you're not scared of one coach journey, or a bit of heavy lifting. But, if you can think of any other work you can do for me, let me know. Until then, I'm sure you can help the others."

Simon grew a bit sullen. Carrying things? His unique talents were going to waste. Of course, the captain was not aware of these talents (or Valerie's), and would likely not be interested in them. Ten years from now and many leagues from here, things would be very different.

Still, he would not be one to sit idly while a girl who shared his abilities did all the backbreaking work. They were in this together, and since she was his equal (no, even his superior, as a more experienced spellcaster), he owed her his help. He just wished they did not have to carry gunpowder. Things tended to... go wrong in his vicinity.

[vegetalss4]

Abel appeared not to listen to the words and deeds of the merchant acting as through they where meant for someone else, that is until Valerie asks her question, the merchant leaves and the work begins.

Then he bows slightly towards her and begin lifting whatever piece of goods she had been moving towards "Let me take this for you, m'lady.
I am certain your time would be far better spent ensuring that none of D'abenne's cargo is accidentally placed on the wrong wagon by any of the dockworkers, than doing simple heavy lifting."
Thus content that he managed to at once invent reasons for why he should help with the physical work, and more importantly why the lady shouldn't, Abel begin doing just that.

[Hemnon]

Valerie was very surprised by Abel being so chivalrous, since she'd never met a knight before.

''um... thank you, sir knight... That's very chivalrous of you.'' She said and threw Abel a smile, and then headed over to supervise the packing of the wagon.

[Micha Sieling]

Matias had at least waited for Monsieur d'Abenne to turn away before his brow dipped in reaction to the rather weak handshake he recieved from his employer.

With a shrug, Matias turned back towards the task at hand, and began to work quietly with the Knight to transfer the wares into the coach. Being in the presence of any kind of nobility had always been an uncomfortable experience for Matias. The stories seemed puffed-up at best - or at least the ones he's heard - and the air of self-entitlement seemed to demand respect more than earn it.

At least this Knight was doing some simple labour, no matter how odd that may look.

[ZeltArruin]

Heinrich was one for the menial labor of a dock hand, it suited him rather well too. But his brow furrowed at the knight's words, but not out of misunderstanding. He shrugged it away, not one to speak out against his betters, and he continued to find the heaviest of parcels to transport to the wagon. He didn't complain or say much of anything through the process.

[BlueMagnusStorm]

Siegfried though not particularly used to manual does his best to help out where he is needed.

[Thragka]

The coach was drawn by two stolid-looking carthorses, content to plod along as Laurent gently tugged their reins. Their manes and feathering were dirty and slightly matted, fetlocks and hooves almost entirely obscured. With a slightly more tender treatment, Abel imagined that they could be made to look quite dashing. Still, these were no knight’s destrier – dependable, surely, but he could see in their eyes a certain sullenness. These were creatures that could easily kick a man to death, but would much rather avoid danger than seek it out.

Behind the horses, the driver’s seat was little more than a rough bench – anyone who had to sit in place for longer than an hour or so would surely feel their hips and legs complain upon standing back up. The coach had one door on the left side and two more at the rear – opening up the back, Matias saw that the interior had been partitioned into a storage area and a small compartment at the front with cushioned seating. There could only be room for about four people to sit inside, and even then it would not be entirely comfortable. For Simon, it was almost a little anti-climactic; d’Abenne was not a noble, of course, and the young man hadn’t entirely expected the ride to be luxurious, but it still seemed odd that the vehicle was so ... cold.

Valerie stepped back to observe as the six men got underway with the packing. Marperic had carelessly left the barrel of blackpowder open; Heinrich retrieved the lid from the dusty earth underfoot and flipped it over in his hands. The top was carved with the word, or name, ARCENAU, beneath a stylised image of a leaping fish – the woodcut was flat but for the long, slender pectoral fins, carved in lines that almost made them look like wings. Replacing the lid and hefting the barrel, the pit fighter noticed that the other blackpowder barrel was also marked with the fish and the word. In fact, so were two other crates and a number of small sacks, making perhaps a third of d’Abenne’s wares in total.

Filling the rear section of the carriage was not particularly difficult, and once the larger items had been packed efficiently it was a simple matter of fitting the smaller objects around and on top of them. Valerie felt that there wasn’t all that much to achieve by scrutinising the work and took a few moments to look along the riverside. An inquisitive gull hopped from plank to plank on the jetty, cocking a head at the group in hope that they would spontaneously become food. Further upriver another craft was just coming to a stop, docking at the other end of the town. It sat lower in the water than the boat that had brought Marperic’s company – when it came to a complete stop, there was an audible cheer from the crew.

The two middle-aged men on the dock attending to the Wind Whisper’s ropes nodded and mumbled polite greetings to the young woman, but were more concerned with helping Henri cast off. Valerie could hear their conversation as they spoke casually to each other and the captain.

“Straight back to the city, is it?” called one, a portly man with a moustache rivalling Henri’s.

“Aye,” the captain called back down. “Ain’t paid enough to climb the rapids.”

“You’re not the only one,” said the second man, white-haired and balding. “These past few weeks we’ve only seen one boat go upriver for every dozen going down.” His companion nodded. “They say it’s ice melting in the mountains. Sends the currents a bit wild this time o’ year.”

“That, or Theralind’s brood been swimming to Couronne!” The two men chuckled. Henri did not look amused.

“Laugh all you want, but there’s fouler things in the water than snapperfish,” said the sailor humourlessly. “You been on the river s’long as I have, you learn a thing or two. Ain’t all sailor’s tales just tales. This river,” he muttered to himself on the edge of hearing. Valerie strained to hear his last few words. “S’like I don’t know her anymore.”

With that, Henri hauled up the last of the rope, and he and his son began coaxing the Wind Whisper to turn around. Valerie looked back to the packing, surprised to find Laurent almost leering at the departing ship. He noticed her look, and his face returned took on a slightly uneasy expression.

“Sounds like Monsieur d’Abenne had the right idea, not making the whole trip by boat,” he said cautiously, voice faltering. Valerie noticed that he wouldn’t quite meet her eye. The others were straightening up, carriage packed. Laurent turned back to Heinrich and Matias.

“Reckon ‘all expenses paid’ includes grub? I fancy a hot meal,” he said with a grin. He took up the horses’ reins again, leading the coach to the inn stable once again and stepping through the door to the common room.

[vegetalss4]

Abel stretch shortly after the heavy lifting before walking to the inn for dinner.
As he reaches the door he holds it open and bow slightly to Valerie After you m'lady.

[ZeltArruin]

Heinrich grins at the offer of food, and follows the man who won half of his money into the inn, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he cut off Valerie as he went in. He seemed intent on the smell of food that hung in the air inside the inn, as well as the scent of Brettonian drinks. "Too much betting, drinking and hard work makes a man hungry," He said, grinning as he rubbed his hands together, taking a seat at a table large enough for the group to eat at together.

[Hemnon]

Valerie looked a little flusted by all the chivalrous gestures from Abel, but she do aknowledge them with a smile.

''Oh wow... this place doesn't look at all like father's inn back home...'' She trailed off, her eyes a little wider than usual, empasizing her faint-glowing eyes more than normal.

''So what should we get Simon? You've got any favorite foods?'' Valerie asked him as she sat down at the same table as Heinrich.

[Micha Sieling]

"If not on monsieur d'Abenne, the drinks are on you, Laurent. I think you've come into a few ecu recently, no?" Matias said with a small chuckle. He followed Heinrich into the tavern, taking a pause at the door.

He simply glanced at all the faces he could see. Those that tipped their heads to view the newcomers, and those that couldn't be bothered. He looked at everyone. It was his thing. Running a hand through his hair, he found where Heinrich had sat, and joined his colleague.

He sat down with a sigh. I need a drink...

[-Sentinel-]

''So what should we get Simon? You've got any favorite foods?'' Valerie asked him as she sat down at the same table as Heinrich.

Simon, who had been giving the knight an unfriendly look, sat down next to Valerie and answered: "Anything but fish, really." Any L'Anguille native was heartily sick of fish. "Something light, I'm not a big eater... Maybe fresh vegetables and cheese. With wine."

He had never drunk wine before, but it seemed like the sort of thing he should start drinking if he was to rise in rank.

[Thragka]

The smell inside the inn was a combination of rich, fresh scents – all good. The inn seemed to have a versatile supply of food, no doubt thanks to the passing river trade. Lunch seemed to be in full swing with market-goers coming and going, and few of the inn’s patrons even noticed the newcomers. Most of those that did returned Matias’s greetings, before seeming to entirely forget him.

Marperic was seated in a corner, a plat already on front of him with some slices of bread, meat and cheese. A serving-girl brought him a cup of wine – seeing the others enter, he sent her to their table.

“Good afternoon,” she said with a smile, although her eyes seemed a little bored – Valerie guessed, from her own experience, that the girl’s enthusiasm was enforced. “Your, uh, master paid for bread and cheese and sliced mutton for eight. Otherwise there’s soup, or stew.” Laurent wrinkled his nose at the other options.

“None of that for me – just the bread and stuff,” he said. “And a bottle of wine, on me,” he grinned to Heinrich and Matias. Then he narrowed his eyes. “And have you still got a bottle of that foreign stuff?” The girl nodded.

Once everyone else had given their order, Laurent explained. “We stopped here before, and some trader brought in this bottle of spirits from Albion. Had a funny name, ish-keh-bah or something. Means ‘water of life’. Tastes like somebody set a swamp on fire,” he finished, raising his eyebrows in enthusiasm. “You have to try it.”

The food was delivered promptly – a loaf of light brown bread, a wheel of pale, crumbly cheese cut into wedges and pile of thinly-sliced cold mutton – probably yesterday’s roast. For Simon there were two plump tomatoes, their fresh flesh a vibrant red. Laurent’s mystery drink arrived with the wine; the bottle’s label had only one word, written in a crabbed script: Usquebaugh. Laurent began to pour a couple of fingers into everybody’s cups, passing them around the table.

He glanced at everybody. “Ready?”

[Thragka]

The drink was much as Laurent had described it – a smoky, earthen texture around the tongue, followed by a rush of heat to the back of the throat when swallowed. Valerie only sipped hers, before pushing the cup away, blinking furiously to clear her eyes of involuntary tears. Simon gulped it down, and screwed his eyes shut for a few moments, trying not to appear weak. Most of the others, though, appeared to be having a similar experience, and didn’t notice his hesitance to speak afterwards.

The rest of the meal passed without incident – the food was fresh and satisfactory, and the wine was adequate in washing it down. There was limited conversation – Laurent tried to keep joking with Heinrich and Matias, but seemed uncomfortable whenever Simon, or especially Valerie, joined in the conversation. Regardless, most of the group were more interested in the meal than talking. Siegfried noticed that Marperic finished well before them, but the merchant sat silently at his own table, sedulously avoiding eye contact until his employees’ plates were clear. D’Abenne stood up and clapped his hands, motioning the party out of the inn.

Abel tended to Dawn, rubbing her flank almost tenderly as the others piled into the coach. Laurent took the driver’s seat, gesturing to Matias to join him on the bench. Inside, Simon and Valerie squeezed down beside Marperic, the three of them thin enough to just about fit comfortably on the cushions of the rear seat. Heinrich and Siegfried sat opposite, the apothecary pulling the door shut. Laurent spurred the horses and the coach began to trundle forward. Abel mounted his own ride and followed, catching up and keeping pace to the right-hand side of the carriage.

Flers was only a few buildings thick, and the coach had barely got fifty yards from the river when the town fell away entirely and the tamped earth of the road was winding between open fields. Abel turned in the saddle, gazing about; the fields stretched along the river the length of the town to the west, but eastwards was an open square full of lively market stalls. With the market in full swing, the fields were empty of farmers.

There was a single wooden signpost marking the end of the settlement, pointing south along the road ahead of them. It said simply Grasgar; the castle of Duke Taubert of L’Anguille. Evidently, their ruler’s seat was the only location worth noting to the simple folk of the Sannez. Local lords and nearby towns would be known by all, and not worth denoting, whereas anything that could not be reached by a few hours’ walking effectively did not exist; only the feudal hierarchy imposed on an otherwise entirely local worldview.

Further from the river, the gentle rolls of the landscape became more pronounced, with the horizon often disappearing from view behind a grassy hillock. Trees gradually became another obstruction, with small copses becoming more frequent, but the road steered across open ground and for the most part it was unoccupied. Signs of civilisation were infrequent, consisting mainly of the occasional shepherd with their flock, wandering distant hillsides as little white dots. As the day passed, there were only two or three villages, with tributary tracks of the main road leading into them. Near these hamlets, the green grass was once again replaced with golden plots of wheat – but these were only small bright interludes in the otherwise monotonic vegetation.

Gradually the forward horizon became a darker green as the outskirts of the Forest of Arden began to appear, an unimaginably vast shadowed realm that extended south over three duchies. It was when individual trees were just becoming distinct that the road forked. To the right, heading east, another sign pointed to Castle Grascar; the left branch was thinner and seemed more like a dirt track than a proper road. Regardless, Laurent steered the carriage to the left.

The new road ran south-east until it kissed the outskirts of the trees, winding its way from there along the forest’s edge. The sun was now behind, casting the coach’s long shadow forwards. Occasionally, small thickets of shrubs and weeds would spring up on the left, having escaped the borders of the forest proper. They made the coach seem hemmed in; surrounded. Abel did not like it, especially when there was no sign of them thinning out once again – it seemed the forest was invading the land beyond.

Within half an hour it was beyond all doubt; they were inside the Forest of Ardens, and even if the road had originally been built outside it, it had been swallowed up by the encroaching trees. Gloom seemed to surround them, and despite the extent of the woods there were few sounds of wildlife or birds.

Approaching a corner, all sound faded. Some subconscious instinct put Abel’s hand onto the hilt of his sword. Around the bend, a fallen tree lay across the road.

From behind, there was a terrible creaking – another tree seemed to be gradually bending down. Between the roadside trunks Matias could see a mass of small green hands pushing against it. With a splintering crack, some previously-sawed cut gave way, the slender length of the tree thudding down across the road behind. With a ferocious, squeaky warcry, a goblin stepped onto the fallen trunk. The creature’s face was scabbed and scarred, and it had a thin, worn-looking sword in each hand.

With another wordless cry, it raised its blade – five more goblins materialised from where the tree had just stood, waving spears and shields. A wave of arrows shot through the air from behind the log to the front of the coach – six more goblins were visible crouching behind with shortbows. Most of their shots went wild, but one thudded hard into Matias’s chest, embedding in his leather armour, and another passed through Abel’s left leg.

“Ambush!” the knight managed to yell through the pain. Inside the coach, d’Abenne’s face went pale.

“Well,” said the merchant, “I suppose this is what I pay you for. Now get out there and drive them off,” he yelled, voice breaking, and opened the door.