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''Are you gonna join me Simon, or would you rather stay in this 'comfortable' athmosphere?'' She asked Simon with a lifted eyebrow and pursed lips.
Simon smiled, a rare thing. "I'll come. I don't like crowds." Perhaps she could tell him some more about the fabled Colleges once they were out of earshot.
He always tried to look warm in Valerie's presence, but inwardly he was wondering if the new development mentioned by the bailiff would affect their payment in any way.
At the interaction between Laurent and Marianne, Matias was no doubt curious. He didn't stare directly at the two while they spoke, but he made an effort to listen. Whatever the problem with this Émilie was, he wanted to find out. Matias assumed it was likely little more than jealousy, but the one time you don't ask...
By the time Matias had successfully talked himself into inquiring, Laurent was gone. He'd be sure to ask him later.
Following into the inn, he kept a silent watch as the bailiff made his demands. He wanted to say something, but there was certainly no way to make this better, at least none Matias could see.
If not goblins, then sharks...
Last edited by Micha Sieling : 08-04-2012 at 12:11 AM.
As the conversation with the Bailif concludes Siegfried thinks to himself Why are these things never as easy as it seems? There may very well be trouble over this.. Siegfried stops and muses over this for a second, then begins moving to the door of the inn. Best to try and enjoy the day as tomorrow maybe far less pleasant Thinks Siegfried as he leaves the inn, hoping to see what the local marketplace has to offer.
Last edited by BlueMagnusStorm : 08-04-2012 at 09:36 PM.
Abel listened slightly to the conversation to the bailiff before dismissing the subject as merchants matters.
As the majority of his companions leave for the shrine, he decides that now would be a good time to retire, trusting more in rest and the work of educated men than the supposition of the peasantry. A category he unconsciously extended to their religions.
Monsuir Lehirman before you go.
You know about the doctors trade, is there anything in particular I should do with my wounds beyond simple rest?
__________________
Remember: Hope springs eternal. The dark days will pass and the sun will shine again.
The best way to learn something is to ask, so ask without shame.
Siegfried stops upon hearing Abel's question and looks him over for a second before answering him " I do not think so Abel. Having patched up your wounds I think that simple rest should be more than enough to speed you on your way to recovery. Though you should keep an eye on the wounds just in case. If your wound should begin to weep pus or take on an angry purple colour or you should suffer from a sudden temperature or light headedness you should report to me immediately". Siegfried pauses in thought for a moment and then speaks again " Though if you are truly concerned about your wounds you may want to visit the sister of shallya present here as they possess healing skills far beyond my meagre ones"
The bailiff and the men-at-arms stepped out of the common room in silence, although the former did raise an eyebrow when Siegfried addressed de Celeste by his first name. Muttering something about Imperials, he closed the door quietly behind him.
Marperic pulled the nearest chair to him and slumped down into it. He looked defeated, staring into space as he spoke. “Yes, yes. Take the afternoon to yourselves. See that this priestess puts you back in good shape. I intend to wait right here until that dog Degaré shows himself. And I may need you when he does.” He shook his head, complaining to the innkeeper as most of his entourage walked back outside. “I’m a guild member, you know,” was the last thing Heinrich heard as he shut the door once more.
~
Valerie, Simon, Heinrich and Matias
Spoiler
Valerie led the small group back along the road towards the river, with Simon close at her heels; the two warriors fell into step behind them, Matias instinctively matching Heinrich pace for pace. It did not take long to reach the shrine, which was little more than a stone arch with a back wall covering a small plinth. The figure of the dove was carved into the stone roof and the surface of the altar – if that was what it was – and even at the base of each of the pillars; it seemed little expense had been spared in its construction, in contrast to most of the other buildings in the village which were uniformly made of wood, mud and thatch.
The table was adorned with bowls of fragrant herbs, small wooden figurines carved into the shape of a woman, and few copper pennies sprawled across its surface. There were a few crumbs, too, remnants of a loaf that had probably been offered to the priestess rather than directly to the godess. But of the priestess, there was no sign. Valerie turned, eyeing the nearby hut – the front door was ajar, and from within a voice mumbled, sounding rather like Laurent’s. She shrugged, and stepped over to the doorway.
As Valerie opened the door, her companions could hear another, female, voice spilling out into the afternoon sun.
“Some of us were worried you might not make it back for this evening, you know,” it said, sounding more playful than scolding.
“Me too, earlier,” the young man replied, rather breathlessly “but we made good time.” As Valerie stepped across the threshold properly, Laurent came into view, lying down topless on a low mattress, as a figure in yellow bent down and inspected the red wound at his side.
Laurent started, seeming embarrassed at Valerie’s entrance as the apprentice wizard’s eyes accustomed to the shade inside. She was in someone’s home, that was for sure – the room was decorated with several pots on shelves, and brightly dyed cloths hung to obscure the bare walls. Apart from the bed Laurent was on, there was a wooden table with four chairs, and a fireplace with a kettle hanging over grey ash. A doorway at the other end of the room led further into the house.
The figure turned and straightened up, and Valerie had to fight the urge to back out through the door as the other woman faced her. She had been beautiful once, that was clear, but her face bore the unmistakeable mark of the pox, raised and pitted with long-dry bumps across every square inch of skin. For a moment Valerie wondered what disease festered in the village and how many others were infected, before she realised that the malignancy had long taken its toll and passed on, leaving behind only this cruel disfigurement as a reminded of hurt suffered years, if not decades, ago.
The priestess straightened up – she could be nobody else, clad as she was in Shallyan yellow. She gave the younger woman a kind smile, happiness seeming to take the edge off the scarring. She was tall, and thin – not with the stick-like figure of a noble lady, but simply the shape of a woman that worked hard most days of her life. As she extended a hand in greeting, the newcomers noticed that he pox-scars extended all down her arms.
“Welcome,” said the priestess in honeyed tones. “I am Émilie. You must be Laurent’s travelling companions.” She laughed. It was a pleasant sound, and easy to listen to. “He mentioned you might be headed my way.”
~
Siegfried
Spoiler
As the others headed west to seek Shallya’s gifts, Siegfried wandered into the centre of the village, making his way between the locals’ homes and heading by ear for the market. It didn’t take long before he emerged into an open space filled with a conglomeration of wooden stalls apparently erected with no forethought given to their arrangement. Several wooden benches ringed the market, and those that were not haggling were lounging about, gossiping in the afternoon sun. The tall figure of the village elder with his elaborate staff were easily visible as he picked his way slowly between the stalls, pausing briefly to talk to almost everyone he encountered.
The smells gave the apothecary some sense of what was available long before he could examine the stalls with his eyes. There were the usual peasant wares, which mostly meant food – cheeses and dried herbs proliferated, as well as loaves of bread and chickens hanging from rafters. Some of the sellers were dressed far too well to be villagers, however – other travelling merchants, most like. Siegfried could see bottles of wine and casks of ale, sacks of dried fruit, brightly dyed cloths and tanned strips of leather. For a village as small as Remy-sur-Orne, there was a surprising amount of variety – obviously the passing trade had been good at introducing the locals to material wealth not usually found in rural Bretonnia.
“Good day, monsieur,” called a man from one of the benches to Siegfried. “Pardon, but are you one of the men as ran into some goblins?”
~
Abel
Spoiler
”I’m a guild member, you know,” Marperic was complaining as the others departed. “Well, an associate member, but still. This never would have happened in L’Anguille,” he said in the direction of the innkeeper.
“Don’t know about that, monsieur, don’t know about that,” replied the man behind the counter. “But Gid’s not a bad man, for a bailiff. Local boy. He ain’t the sort to rough folk up on ‘is Lordship’s orders. Just doing his duty, same as the rest of us.”
D’Abenne harrumphed; it was a sound he was quite good at, and Abel suspected he had practised how to achieve the perfect balance of contempt and carelessness. “Please tell me Achille Degaré is staying here.”
“Yes, m’sieur. Skulks around most afternoons, if you’ll excuse me. Liable to come home stinking drunk in the dead of night, that one.” The innkeeper shook his head. “Not my place to judge, however. Will you be wanting wine, m’sieur?”
Marperic nodded. “Aye, a bottle of red. And I’ll be wanting rooms for my employees, if you could see to that.
“Will do.” The innkeeper turned to Abel, nodding respectfully. “Can I interest you in wine, my lord?”
I am afraid I will have to decline. I have found that some good wine can raise ones temperature quite effectively, and apparently I should avoid that currently.
If you would perhaps show me to my room I believe I shall have a short prayer and then turn in early for today.
__________________
Remember: Hope springs eternal. The dark days will pass and the sun will shine again.
The best way to learn something is to ask, so ask without shame.
"Ah, and here I was hoping the Shallyan might speak the emperor's tongue..." Heinrich muttered to himself in imperial after hearing the priestess speak. He moved himself into the house, edging in past the door as he stood, his arms crossed as he looked around. His eyes came to Laurent, and he offered an amused grin to the man.
"Indeed, my lord," said the innkeeper. He reached for a bottle of wine from the rack behind the bar and a wooden cup, dropping them off at Marperic's table before nodding to Abel once again. "If you will follow me."
He led the way up the stairs at the far end of the common room. The corridor they emerged onto ran the width of the building, small windows facing south over the market - Abel could just see the figure of Siegfried moving towards the stalls, his clothing marking him out from the drab brown of the peasantry. Behind the knight, there came a clink as the innkeeper unlocked a door.
"Here you are, my lord," the short man said. Abel took a look through the door. The room looked small - cramped, almost - and the mattress looked almost overstuffed with straw. There was a small, low table, and an empty shelf beneath a window looking down on the river and the hillside.
"If my lord will excuse my intrusion," said the innkeeper from the corridor, "you mentioned that you might pray? To the Lady?" The man sounded slightly sheepish - after all, worship of the Lady of the Lake was rightly the province of the nobility.
~
Émilie's House
Spoiler
Laurent couldn't hide his own grin, and rolled his eyes in a boyish imitation of machismo. Émilie raised an eyebrow at Heinrich's mutter. "Ah, an Imperial?" the priestess asked in Reikspiel. She had a noticeable accent, but her speech was clear. "I grew up in the Shallyan temple in Couronne. I've been speaking Reikspiel longer than some of you, I think." She smiled again, although the joke was lost on Simon.
"Aye, that I am, an Imperial. I suppose my companions speak Reikspiel as well...a fact that has escaped my thought until this very moment, but no matter. I can stumble through your tongue or you can with mine, which ever best suits you," the pit fighter syas, speaking far more than he had in Breton previously. Clearly he was more comfortable and eloquent in his own language, as would expected.
After taking and shaking the priestess' hand in greeting, Valerie said: Pardon the intrusion priestess, but would it be at all okay if i could pray to shallya for a little while, we all do have a bit of road to travel yet, and asking for shallya's guidance and mercy wouldn't hurt.'' Her question was accompanied with a gentle expression and a pleasant smile.
__________________ Awesome avatars:
Spoiler
Awesome dark heresy inquisitor avatar by The Randomizer
Gender bended avatar by The Randomizer
.... in her party dress, also by The Randomizer
Epic imperial Guardsman by The Architect
"Well sir," said the innkeeper, keeping his eyes low, "as you surely know, some of the common folk have the honour of attending Grail Chapels, when the Lady calls to us. But the chapel outside Remy hasn't been safe to go to for a long time." He clasped his hands together, as if afraid to be speaking. "Orcs, they say, and ... well. Fouler things, maybe. Lord Forsard won't permit villagers to go - for our own sake, and rightly so," he added quickly, still dutifully avoiding de Celeste's eye. "It ... it ain't right, sir, and many of us would be mightily thankful if some brave soul were to make it safe for us to visit again."
~
Émilie's House
Spoiler
"Of course, of course," said Émilie in response to Valerie, switching back to Bretonnian. "You're welcome to pray outside, at the shrine. And there'll be a small ceremony by the river in a few hours, so please do come along, all of you."
The priestess's expression became more serious as she looked Valerie over, eyes slowly tracing her from head to toe. "You don't appear to be too heavily injured, miss ... ?" She waited for an introduction before continuing. "But if any of you need more than a kind word and prayer, I tend to physical as well as spiritual ills." She turned back to Laurent. "I think I've done all I can for your side." Removing the lid from a clay pot, she smeared a thick, honey-smelling substance over the young man's wound, before wrapping his abdomen with cloth. "You can go."
Laurent got to his feet and pulled his clothes back on. "You found the inn okay?" he asked of the others.
Simon politely pretended to ignore the Shallyan's condition, but did avoid getting too close to her. As a city dweller, he had learned to be wary of disease. The memory of the Kruts outbreak in L'Anguille, four years ago, was still fresh in his mind.
"Do you happen to have more poultices and bandages?" he inquired. "I have some knowledge of medicine, but the way our travel is going, it looks like I could use some more healing supplies. I can pay for them, of course."
''Oh boy, sorry about that, my name is Valerie and you must be Émilie right? No about me, I'm not injured unlike some of the others... Like sir Abel or mister Laurent who we have right here.
And thank you, i think i will go pray a little for my family and for a safe trip. oh before i go, could i get your blessing?'' She asked sincerely.
(Blessing or not)
Do you wanna come along Simon, or do you rather want to stay here?'' She asked Simon with an awaiting, and somewhat peaceful, expression on her face.
__________________ Awesome avatars:
Spoiler
Awesome dark heresy inquisitor avatar by The Randomizer
Gender bended avatar by The Randomizer
.... in her party dress, also by The Randomizer
Epic imperial Guardsman by The Architect
Siegfried stops and examines the man for a moment before speaking " Good day to you also monsieur. I did indeed run into the goblins of which you speak. A horrible plague they are, no? "
Last edited by BlueMagnusStorm : 08-11-2012 at 10:14 PM.
It was right of you to tell me this. Once my wounds are healed I shall deal with this travesty.
However since time is now of the essence, I will now follow the advise of my doctor and go see your sister of Shallya. Send someone to show me the way, I will pray while I wait for them.
__________________
Remember: Hope springs eternal. The dark days will pass and the sun will shine again.
The best way to learn something is to ask, so ask without shame.
The innkeeper's eyes met Abel's in relief - the man was working hard to keep a smile off his face.
"Bless you, m'lord, bless you." He handed the knight a thin, heavily tarnished key - it barely weighed anything in de Celeste's palm. "For as long as you stay with us, m'lord. I'll send the boy up to take you to the priestess."
~
At the Market
Spoiler
The sitting man took his time to look Siegfried over as the apothecary did the same to him. He was middle-aged, but in good shape. Broad across the shoulders and with a square jaw, it was clear he was accustomed to hard work. The bald dome of his forehead shone in the afternoon light. He seemed familiar - likely he had been in the crowd that had greeted Laurent's return a few minutes earlier.
"That they are sir, no doubt about it. It were your clothes as made me think you'd seen them off." Looking down, Siegfried saw he was still splattered in dark, dried blood; he had gotten used to the smell, he realised, but now it became a conscious presence once more.
"Most of the traders bring strong arms with them on this road," the man continued. It was true; now that he looked, Siegfried saw that there were several other burly men loitering by the stalls of the better-dressed merchants, or lounging about in the sun. "That the sort of thing you do?" the villager added.
~
Émilie's House
Spoiler
"Of course you can have my blessing," said Émilie. She raised a hand as if to put it on Valerie's shoulder, but then stopped as if she had thought better of it - for a moment she just stood there, her hand in the air before her chest, before she crossed her fingers over her heart, and smiled. "I will think on your troubles, and pray they weigh upon you less."
She turned to Simon, one side of her mouth twisted into a contemplative frown. "I can give you some cloth for bandages, but I'm afraid I need my poultices. The cobwebs and moss are easy enough to collect on an early morning walk, but honey is in short supply. The trade from Couronne has lessened recently."
The priestess looked Simon over. "You say you are a healer? Payment will be unnecessary, but perhaps you could give me some assistance if you're going to be in the village for some time. An extra hand is always welcome, and you'd be surprised how many accidents can happen late at night when tired people walk along the riverbank." Émilie rolled her eyes. "Especially the morning after market day."
Valerie Only
Spoiler
There was an ever-so-slight change in the winds around the priestess as she raised her hand to bless Valerie - for a moment, the young apprentice thought that she was about to witness the use of Divine magic, as the sensation was very different from what she felt when she reached out to harness the Jade wind. It faded as the priestess seemed to change her mind. It happened so quickly that Valerie wasn't sure it had been anything more than a random eddy in the currents of power flowing across the Old World.
Simon Only
Spoiler
As the priestess raised her hand, the young hedge wizard felt suddenly light-headed, for a moment undergoing the acute sensation of vertigo, as if he were falling towards Émilie's outstretched fingers. Her arm rippled with the hint of power, before the sensation subsided almost instantly. There was a sour taste in his mouth. The scarred woman had been about to do something to the winds of magic, but it was entirely different to the ritualistic, dry process he had come to associate with Valerie and her late master; it was as if Émilie herself was, just for a moment, emanating a gentle pressure on the surroundings. It was an entirely new way of experiencing magic.
Do you wanna come along Simon, or do you rather want to stay here?'' Valerie asked Simon with an awaiting, and somewhat peaceful, expression on her face.
Simon was not very religious by nature. He liked to think he could make his place in the world, without any gods' help. Still, he nodded, eager to make a good impression on Valerie.
"Can't hurt to say a prayer or two."
His expression changed a bit when the Shallyan priestess raised her hand. A profound respect appeared in his eyes.
"Thanks for the bandages, it's better than nothing. The trade has lessened, you say? I'm sorry to hear that. I hope goblin attacks haven't become too widespread. Oh, and I'd be glad to help you with any wounded, if you need it."
Truth to be told, he was unenthusiastic at the prospect, as he hated to do anything for free.
No need to thank me, I am merely doing my duty. Abel says as he meets the innkeepers gaze, through from his tone, he clearly does appreciate the mans gratefulness and the faith it implies.
Now if you will excuse me. he adds before breaking contact, turning, kneeling and beginning his prayer.
__________________
Remember: Hope springs eternal. The dark days will pass and the sun will shine again.
The best way to learn something is to ask, so ask without shame.
Indicating the blood spatters says "Yes I suppose They are a dead give away." Siegfried then pauses for a moment as if considering the man's question." Yes indeed it is. Though I tend to spend most of my time patching up the people involved afterwards. "
At the mention of “patching up”, the sitting man’s response was immediate – one hand balled into a fist, and his gaze flickered from Siegfried’s, seeking out something across the market. Then he relaxed, and smiled at the apothecary as he rose from the bench. Something in his eyes made the expression seem forced and artificial.
“You’re a healer, then? That’s … that’s very interesting,” he said cheerily. As he stepped forward, he stumbled. Siegfried caught the man as he fell against his chest, and as the villager grasped his shoulders for support, he began to whisper quickly.
“Someone might need your help. Come to the last house on the market lane when the stalls close up. Don’t be seen.”
The villager straightened up. “Thank you, son,” he said out loud. Giving Siegfried a quick nod, he walked spryly away, weaving around the market stalls and into the assembled peasants and traders.
~
Émilie’s House
Spoiler
Émilie retrieved a roll of plain, undyed cloth from a shelf and handed it to Simon. She nodded at his offer. “I don’t pretend to understand the subtleties of trade,” she replied to the young man’s comments. “Perhaps it is the season. But we’ve fewer burghers passing through these days.” She motioned to the door; Laurent led the way out. He seemed eager to join the conversation, and took the opportunity to add his own voice.
“It’s kind of strange,” he said. “Most trade goes down the Sannez, but the rapids aren’t safe for upstream travel this time of year. That’s why Monsieur d’Abenne wanted to come through Remy.” He stepped away from the door, leaving enough room for all of the others to emerge into the afternoon air. “I’ve heard tales on the docks that it’s worse than usual this year.” He shrugged. “And Lord Forsard welcomes the trade. He can tax it.”
Émilie gave a sound that sounded rather like a snort – rather undignified, but then she looked as if she couldn’t care less. She reminded Matias of the Matron from the Altdorf orphanage of his youth – an overbearingly mothering personality, as if anything in the world not relevant to her work was fit to be ignored. “He’s not nearly as welcoming as his father was. You wouldn’t remember Lord Leofric, Matias, but he was truly a man of the people. Some of Ælfric’s first acts upon inheriting his father were to undo many of the freedoms the peasants and travelling burghers enjoyed here. He may have lightened his grasp recently, but many remember Leofric Forsard, and wish those days were still with us. But I shouldn’t be nattering on. Feel free to visit the shrine, my dear,” she said to Valerie.
To any that remained close enough to talk, she in fact did continue nattering. “And I don’t mean to imply it’s all political. Taal and Rhya seem to have taken a dim view of Remy recently. The crops don’t grow as well as they used to. And the river has become full of sludge. They say it has its source near a mining town in the mountains, and that the breaking of the rocks poisons the water.” The priestess shrugged. “Be that as it may, the land reacts. The forest is more threatening these days. It harbours things that mean us no good.”
Seeming to have exhausted her supply of chat, Émilie lapsed into silence, standing motionless in the light afternoon breeze. She peered along the street, towards the inn – from the doorway, the stable-boy emerged, followed by the familiar figure of Abel. The boy pointed towards the shrine, and de Celeste began to walk towards them.
When he was within speaking distance, Émilie curtsied.
“Good afternoon, m’lord,” she said, keeping her gaze low. “Are you a guest of Lord Forsard’s?”
~
In the Inn
Spoiler
The air in the room was dry, but cool, and Abel was at least comfortable as he began his prayers. At some point during them, he heard the sound of the stairs creaking, and light footsteps along the corridor which stopped outside his room , but there were no further interruptions. When he was done, he found the stable-boy staring in at him from the corridor.
The boy was silent, his eyes remaining wide as he waited for the knight to come to his feet and follow. Abel was led back down the stairs and through the common room. Marperic was still seated at his table, swirling his cup of wine as he glared angrily down at it. He waved a hand absentmindedly to the knight as Abel stepped past him.
The boy preceded de Celeste out the door and simply pointed back down the street to the stone shrine. Shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun, Abel saw that most of d’Abenne’s employees were standing around outside the house beside it. A woman in long yellow robes was talking to them – from the distance, it seemed like she was doing most of the talking.
He walked towards them. There was a slight breeze nipping at him, cooling the back of his neck as he ambled along the road. As he approached, he noted that the shadows on the woman’s face were not just from her hood – her entire face was scarred and pitted with small dry lump. This woman had survived an outbreak of pox, although her beauty had not. She would be the priestess, Abel thought; yellow robes were the mark of the Shallyan orders in Bretonnia.
When he was only a few yards away, she curtsied and lowered her eyes.
“Good afternoon, m’lord,” she said. “Are you a guest of Lord Forsard’s?”
OOC:
Spoiler
For those who don’t know, Taal and Rhya are the Old World gods of nature.
Everyone but Siegfried will be in the same spoiler now that Abel has joined the large group.
"Good Afternoon" Abel answers the priestess greeting, extending it to his companions with a nod, before continuing to her question "Only in the general sense applying to all travelers through his lands, at the moment. I hope that I am not interrupting anything?"
__________________
Remember: Hope springs eternal. The dark days will pass and the sun will shine again.
The best way to learn something is to ask, so ask without shame.
"Not at all, m'lord," said the priestess. "I take it that you are Sir Abel? Laurent mentioned you. I am Émilie, priestess of Shallya." She crossed two fingers and placed them over her heart, her eyes darting over Abel in a manner that should have been totally improper for a mere peasant.
"Your associates were seeking my blessing, and the comfort of the shrine. Do you also have need of the Mother's succour?" Her tone was polite, but her pursed lips indicated that she already knew the answer - like a mother trying to coach a confession out of a recalcitrant child.
Abel chooses to ignore the tone of the priestess, instead greeting her politely A pleasure to meet you, I am indeed Sir Abel, as you have surmised.
I am here, not for matters of spirituality but for matters of physical health. You see, I recently found a need to increase the speed of my recovery from certain wounds I have sustained. As I have been informed that your order is quite talented in the healers art I was hoping to enlist your help in this matter.
__________________
Remember: Hope springs eternal. The dark days will pass and the sun will shine again.
The best way to learn something is to ask, so ask without shame.
The priestess gave a pensive frown, sucking on the inside of her cheek absent-mindedly as she eyed Abel's wounds. Siegfried's rough job of patching his arm up and covering the gash on his brow were still apparent.
"Did this young man already take a look at you?," she asked, nodding sideways at Simon. "I'm not sure there'll be much else I can do, my lord. A solid night's sleep is what you need most of all, and I can take another look at it tomorrow."
OOC:
Spoiler
Since Abel already received a successful Heal test from Siegfried, he won't benefit from another for the rest of the day. Sorry if that wasn't already clear.
"Did this young man already take a look at you?," she asked, nodding sideways at Simon."
"I don't think there's anything I could have done that you cannot," Simon admitted. "My knowledge of the healing arts isn't very formal. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go pray."
He joined Valerie, knelt next to her and pretended to pray. "Are you sure we need to linger in this mudhole?" he whispered. "I understand we need gold to travel to Altdorf, but I wasn't expecting delays."
Very well. Thank you for your helpfullness. Now if you will excuse me, I shall return in the morrow. Abel says to the lady with a smile and a small bow, before turning and leaving for the inn
OC
Spoiler
no problem, I simply remembered the rule as "one heal check after the wound and then once day, starting with the same day" instead of starting with the next.
entirely my own fault
__________________
Remember: Hope springs eternal. The dark days will pass and the sun will shine again.
The best way to learn something is to ask, so ask without shame.
"You are most welcome, my lord," said Émilie, nodding respectfully. She cast a long glance over the two youngest members of the group before simply stepping back inside her home. The door shut with a click.
Simon got no response from Valerie, as the young woman was intent on actually praying. Under the shrine's thin stone roof, the world was cool, and the sounds of the market were quietened - but not quiet enough that she could ignore them, and peace of mind eluded her. Annoyed, the apprentice had no option but to straighten up and step back into the sun.
The others followed Abel's lead back to the inn. The market seemed to be winding down, although the central cluster of stalls were still in full swing. The inn's stables were now housing a variety of carts, loaded with boxes crudely labled as containing cloth, dye, ink, pottery and other assorted goods. When they stepped into the common room, Marperic was no longer its only patron. A pair of villagers were enjoying a bottle of wine, a group of thuggish-looking, burly men in leather armour were playing cards on a table busy with ale-mugs, and a trio of brightly-dressed merchants were loudly comparing their profits and business strategies. D'Abenne, though, was still silent. The bottle on his table was nearly empty, and his cheeks were rosy. He noted the inkeeper nod at the newcomers and turned - seeing his employees, he scowled.
"You're not Achille," he said in a sing-song voice, before his expression softened and he waved them over. "But you'll have a drink with me. I was a wine-seller before I ever got involved in the Guilds, did I tell you that? Not a tavern-owner, though, gods be good - not that there's anything wrong with that!" he added weakly, as the barman frowned. "But I know my wine, and this" - he frowned at the empty bottle, lifting the bottom to his eye to examine how much was left - "is bloody good stuff. What'll we have, eh? A couple of bottles?"
His eyes darted between them as the innkeeper waited expectantly - but apparently nobody answered quickly enough for his liking, for he slouched back down in his seat, staring out the window on the opposite wall. Then he shot up straight again.
"There he is! That's Achille, the untrustworthy dog!" Through the window, a figure on horseback was just visible on the opposite side of the river, riding down the hill track.
"It's about damn time," Marperic continued. He staggered to his feet, leaning on the table for support. With great care he placed one foot on front of the other, tottering past his employees and outside.
"Degaré, you treacherous bastard!" he shouted to confused onlookers. "You'll never trade in L'Anguille again!"
~
At the market
Spoiler
Siegfried had no more cryptic encounters with the locals in the following minutes. Some of the merchants and traders seemed to be finishing up for the day, closing down their stalls and packing goods into carts and boxes. Some of the brightly-dressed men in their long leather boots and fine capes congregated and headed into the nameless tavern in ones and twos, while their lackeys dragged their wares to the inn's stables. Most of the stalls that had villagers running them stayed active, however; there would be several hours of daylight left yet.
As the crowd flowed to and fro, responding to the simple stimuli of the peasant lifestyle, Siegfried did his best to try to recognise individuals that passed him more than once. The drab cloaks that seemed standard village uniform made it difficult, however, and in the case of the women their hoods made it nigh impossible. After some time, however, one face in particular did stand out in the crowd - a round pale face with a couple of stray brown curls escaping its hood. It was Marianne, the young woman that had made that scene with Laurent upon their arrival, and she was staring right at him.
After a heartbeat, the apothecary realised that she mightn't actually have seen him - she was glancing about herself furtively, as if having the same difficulty as Siegfried in telling who was whom. Slowly, she drifted away from the market, and slipped behind a row of cottages - from where he stood, Siegfried saw her pass by each and come to stop outside the last house on the dirt track towards the forest that might be called the market lane. Hood pulled entirely around her face now, she knocked on the door.
From behind, there was something of a commotion - distracted, Siegfried turned to see Marperic d'Abenne step out of the inn. He looked a little steady on his feet. The merchant soent a moment wavering from side to side as he sucked in a breath of air before yelling in the direction of the shrine.
"Degaré, you treacherous bastard! You'll never trade in L'Anguille again!"
The target of his slurs was nowhere to be seen - a fact that caused many of the villagers to eye the burgher oddly. Siegfried's ears, though, did pick up the hint of hoofbeats coming from the direction d'Abenne was gazing. Then he remembered Marianne, and glanced back down the market lane.
Abel places himself by the door ready to intervene if things get out of control but otherwise content to let the merchants deal with their business themselves.
__________________
Remember: Hope springs eternal. The dark days will pass and the sun will shine again.
The best way to learn something is to ask, so ask without shame.
Many thanks to smuchmuch for the awesome Ponytar.
Last edited by vegetalss4 : 09-02-2012 at 08:32 AM.
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Re: [WFRP] The Waters of Life
