Chapter One - "The Letter" - Part Two

[AnaMirl Goodwill]

Ana‘Mirl felt sorry, though she could not clearly decide, for whom, for her, having to bother with a - well-loved -  guest who had stepped over his boundaries or for exactly this guest, Altario, that strange man from the far North, who could be so nice, but who could not overcome his noble heritage either and therefor often insulted people whom he thought to be on a lower social level than him, taking action which were just not approbate.  She let her thoughts flow a while, pondering what his true nature might be.
 Is he really the cold, distant, unfaltering man of high rank who he sometimes seems to be, or is that a shield he has build up to protect himself? Sometimes another man has shown through, the passionate lover and the friend. Well, two months are a time too short to get somebody to know. But, there has to be another side in him, otherwise I would not have learned to like him...

In her back the conversation went on, and Ana‘Mirl did not feel very comfortable with it. Lili was chatting with that orc girl and Lori asked a question about nightdresses (this girl brought her always to smile!), even the elven lady next to her , who had been fairly silent during their drive, turned round to talk politely to - Grallen. Was she aware, that her lapdog could well end in the orc‘s belly?

 Finally the waterhole came into sight. It was a marvelous place, small,  but lovely located. Near the sea, just a stral away, with a well just like the Herald. Here one had a splendid view over the waters of the Burning Sea, sometimes even the white dots of ships under full sails could be seen. It was not often visited though, for, lying in a slight depression, it was not visible from the main path. Sandstorms covered the traces, it was often difficult to find the main route from Strata to the Herald, so this place was only known to residents, not to occasional travellers. 

Only a few trees grew around a nearly circular well of about 15 peds and probably not deeper than half a ped, to the north an enormous Dari‘i-Tree provided shade for more than a few people, its crown was surely more than twenty peds in diameter. Animals had fed on the lower branches, so there was plenty of space underneath it. And shade. The temperature was many degrees lower than in the sun just a few peds outside. A few Bombax Palmtrees grew to the South. There was just a little space to set out one's belongings, the shade was not as deep as under the Dari‘i tree, but there the tired traveller might have felt more private, for a dense Mil‘no forest grew around those trees, though the view of the sea and the little pond was not obscured. 

Ana‘Mirl jumped from the cart , guided Mare to the water and allowed her to drink, before she led her back under the tree. Only then she turned to her „guest“ on the cart.

„So, now. I heard your name is Grallen. Could you please give me an explanation, what you are doing on my cart?“

Ana‘Mirl dearly hoped, that Altario would not interfere and she glanced at him with the hope, that he would understand her gaze. Again, she felt a wave of pity for him. It had to be hard for him, he had seen die people, friends, family from the hands of orcs. It could well be, that this orc woman was not to be trusted, but here they were not in the North and there was no immediate danger coming from that young person. Ana‘Mirl wanted to give her a chance to explain herself.

[grallen gast]

“Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Grallen bit her lip. She didn’t want to think about home. Not here, where sand invades your privacy and it’s so damn hot… she considred taking her jacket off, but couldn’t- the prominent bloodstain left by a watchman who’d rudely smashed his nose into her knee was not the kind of thing she wanted to introduce to the conversation. The heat was horrible – the inside of her skull felt like it was lined with hot wool, and her skin was prickling.

The pause in conversation, or what passed for conversation when speaking to a grumpy, hungover orc who knows she may well spend tonight either in a cell or dead, was growing wider. Luckily, Grallen was saved from answering the elf’s – Airyn’s question as she seemed to be having some kind of trouble with her hand, or something.

“Is anyone in possession of a needle and thread? Or perhaps just a needle?”

Grallen shook her head absently. Ahead she could see a welcome change in the infuriating monotony of sand. Her enthusiasm for the prospect of shade and water evaporated when she remembered that at the oasis she would have to face questioning by the formidable innkeeper lady, and probably mister Altario too.

As people milled about watering horses and getting into the shade, she kept still and quiet, thinking furiously. Gently, she reached out towards the folded canvas, and slid her sword into her grasp. She tucked it almost out of sight behind her, and checked that her dagger, an altogether more useful but less impressive weapon, was still safely sheathed at her calf. That made her feel slightly better, but not much. The Innkeeper lady had finished watering the horse, and turned to Grallen, speaking in a voice that promised cleverness would not be welcome.

“So, now. I heard your name is Grallen. Could you please give me an explanation, what you are doing on my cart?“

The orc girl smiled, a little more of her nerves coming through than she intended. She really didn’t feel well.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I honestly didn’t mean to- I mean, it was cold, and I… wasn’t entirely thinking straight… I had nowhere else to sleep, and I was knackered. I didn’t even realise it was a cart, this is all just a misunderstanding. If you let me go now you’ll never hear from me again.”

She looked longingly past her interrogator’s shoulder, at the big empty spaces that a second ago she had despised. Now they seemed the most inviting things in the world. If she could just get away… the face of the watch captain came uninvited into her mind, and she remembered the vicious kick she’d given him, the look on his face when she turned before running to make a friendly gesture. She’d been terrified out of her mind at the time, but it had still seemed like a particularly stylish show of violence. She’d inflicted more damage with her knees than the whole squad of watchmen had with edged weapons. Nonetheless it had been too close – she knew she’d be lucky to escape the Strata watch again. She wished she hadn’t kicked the watch captain quite so hard…

[AnaMirl Goodwill]

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I honestly didn’t mean to- I mean, it was cold, and I… wasn’t entirely thinking straight… I had nowhere else to sleep, and I was knackered. I didn’t even realise it was a cart, this is all just a misunderstanding. If you let me go now you’ll never hear from me again.”

Ana‘Mirl regarded the orc girl for some time, silently, waiting if more would come from that unhappy bundle. Somehow Ana was a bit lost at what to do with her now.

She is certainly not innocuous. That hidden sword is surely not her only weapon and her looks, the  scrubby hair which hid the eyes does not evoke any confidence. But here she is, has not done any harm to any of our group, apart from having provoked Altario through her simple existence. So, what should we do with her? Well, maybe get her better to know...

„Ok, that is no problem now. You have been a guest in the Herald and I will not ask further questions what brought you in my cart. But, what do you want to do, if I let you go? Stay here and catch the one or other stripped kara or walk on your feet to Strata? Without provisions? These are no good alternatives. Let us sit down over there and have a rest and some food and meanwhile you can tell me what an orc girl does in the Ráhaz-Dáth. For I do want to hear from you what you brought you to Strata and the desert.“

And maybe I will be able to hear more than she tells me. It will be interesting .

Ana‘Mirl pointed at a cleared area close to the trunk of the tree.

„Grallen, please sit down over there, I‘m just looking for a thread and a needle for Lady Airyn.“ And turning towards the elven girl, which was still sitting on the cart, not far away from the orc, she asked her:
„What for do you need it? What have you done to your hand? Can I help you get down? Or wait, Altario can you lend a hand?“

[Lili the Elfcat]

Lili chuckled as little Lori approached the job of personal cupwaiter for Kassandra with some trepidation. But then, as the oasis came into view, the daggerbeak listened to Lori’s advice and flew towards the shade and fresh water, out of Lili’s sight. Hrmpf! Has Kassandra ever listened to my advice? No, she hasn’t! She usually does the opposite of what I ask her. But I don’t blame her. We all need shade and a rest. Especially poor Fiddlesticks!

Riding on towards the waterhole, Lili half overheard Altario’s speech, and braced herself for the confrontation she had seen coming for a while. He may be quite right about the orcs, after all. Murderous brutes, eh? Not that humans are any different, though, in my experience. Humans don’t think like us, act like us, or are keen on our company either, as a general rule.

More pleasant thoughts were brought by the elfess’ request of a needle. Lili had been wondering for a while of how to approach the lady and find out more about her. To be lending her a needle would be just the chance! As soon as the party reached the oasis, and Lili could direct her horse under the shade of one of the trees, she jumped off Fiddlesticks and held out her arms to help Lori down.

”Off you jump! You’ve dealt well with Kassandra. She’s moody, and needs to feel she’s the boss; but she’s a good friend, really. Now, if you would excuse me, I think I better find my needle, for the elfess needs it.”

Lili began rummaging in her saddlebag. Now, where is the wretched thing? I distinctly remember using it to spike a Groshmite for Kassandra to eat. And then there was that humongous cockroach on the ship to Strata… Aha! Here we go!

Lili had found what she was looking for, and walked over to the cart, where the elfess was still sat and Ana’Mirl had started her interrogation of Grallen. Lili looked up into the trees. Where was Kassandra? Nowhere to be seen. Seven stinking boardraks! Just because I lost my balance for a single blink! Is she going to be huffy and wayward all day? Well, but here we are.

As Lili joined the little group, Ana’Mirl had just spoken about the needle, and had offered the elfess - her name was Airyn, apparently - help in getting down from the cart. Is she that delicate, then? Anyway, Lili was eager to splash into the conversation. She offered her arm to the elfess.

”I’ll gladly help, if help is needed. And here: …”

With her other hand, Lili produced the needle. It was a monster of a utensil: a blunt piece of metal longer than Lili’s thumb, it looked more like something you’d use for spit-roasting a small rat than something you’d let anywhere near your garments. If you’d stuck it into your dress, you’d most likely open up a gash as big as a buttonhole. Lili held it out with a satisfied beam:

”I’ve got just what you want. A wonderful needle that has saved me from running around without trousers many a time. Oh, and I’m Lili, by the way!”

[Airyn]

“What for do you need it? What have you done to your hand? Can I help you get down? Or wait, Altario can you lend a hand?“

An appreciative smile warmed Airyn’s features as Ana began to bustle about, hunting for a needle with a slight frown of concentration. “Well, I’m not the most coordinated of people, and my clumsiness found me on the floor in a heap this morning, with my hand accidentally grasped around my knife.”  Stupid, stupid, stupid knives. “And people look at me funny when I say that I dislike blades.”

She finished her small rant with a large sigh, dropping both hands into her lap. She looked up at Ana with the same smile of appreciation. “Would you mind taking my hand? I would only fall again on my own.” Without warning, Sage’s small body shot across the cart and darted across the sand to hide behind a tree. Puzzled, the elfess shook her head and touched the back of her neck with her right hand.

Airyn’s heart skipped a beat, and her breath seemed to catch in her throat when the woman with the pink hat stepped forward, bearing the biggest and most frightening needle, if that is what you call it, she had ever seen. Her face pale and expression a mix of fear and deep contemplation, she leaned forward to take the needle with a shivering hand.

“Thankyou,” she replied when her thumb and forefinger tentatively closed around the metal. She had heard that this woman’s name was Lili, and immediately looked into her eyes with a little less concern, glad to have a name for her other than The Woman with the Pink Hat “Thankyou Lili.”

Airyn quickly bent backwards to pull her bag towards her with shaking fingers. She draped the strap around her shoulder and shuffled forward to try and swing her legs over the back of the cart.

[grallen gast]

The torrent of venom Grallen had been half expecting didn’t arrive. Instead, this landlady seemed reasonably equitable, at least for now. She got the feeling that she was treading a narrow path between upsetting either her or the northern man. She risked a blank, pale smile, though it faded quickly as her hopes of disappearing over the sandy horizon were tactfully dismantled.

“…But, what do you want to do, if I let you go? Stay here and catch the one or other stripped kara or walk on your feet to Strata? Without provisions? These are no good alternatives.”

I can look after myself, lady. On the other hand… what’s a striped Kara? Grallen scowled, pouting childishly as she was forced to aknowledge that there were no real alternatives to heading to Strata. Without a guide of some kind she’d never get out of this desert.

“Let us sit down over there and have a rest and some food and meanwhile you can tell me what an orc girl does in the Ráhaz-Dáth. For I do want to hear from you what you brought you to Strata and the desert.“

She nodded reluctantly, not meeting the woman’s eyes. Food and rest sounded unbelievably good, but still the idea of having to pay for them by answering questions and being in such hostile company was unnerving… not that it was particularly unusual. How often had she paid for her meals by her evasive tongue? How often had she used the people who most wanted to see her dead to her advantage? Well, maybe not that often, seeing as it’s much easier to use people who’ve never met you, and worry about them wanting to kill you as a result from a safe distance. The point, though, was that she’d always felt a little more in control, and it hadn’t been so damned hot, and she’d had a clean shirt on for more than half the time.

She pulled herself to her feet, and slipped as quietly and unobtrusively as possible to the point indicated, where she slumped gratefully against the trunk of the tree, tipping her head back against the bark and closing her eyes as she felt herself begin to cool slightly in the shade.

Something small and fluffy darted rodent-fast across the space between the cart and the tree, and Grallen watched it disappear into the greenery before registering it as a dog, belonging presumably to the- to Airyn. She listened to its movements without looking, her ears twitching as she gazed warily at the others.

[Lili the Elfcat]

Airyn, the elfess, seemed to hesitate whether to accept Lili’s needle or not. In fact, she seemed to be wary of Lili. Have we done something to frighten her? It must be my scar, glowing in the desert sun. She only saw it in the tavern's twilight last night. Anyway, how courteous this lady remains despite all that! Doesn't mention my ugly face with a word! She’d probably find time to apologize for things and say thanks to people even if a rabid blood bear was chasing her!

As Airyn awkwardly tried to get her legs into position to let herself down the cart, Lili noticed that she took care not to put weight on her left hand.

”Oh, are you hurt? Well, come on then, put your arms around my neck and hop on down, we’ll get you into the shade.”

And with this, Lili stepped to face the struggling elfess. As she did so, she turned her head slightly to the left, so that Airyn would look at her good cheek, instead of at the scar. The Lili offered both her arms, ready to grab Airyn by the hips or under the armpits, to lift her to the ground, and to accompany her to a shady place.

”Having the sun burn your whole body to ashes will make the pain in your hand go away, for sure – but I don’t recommend it nonetheless.”

***
Kassandra, meanwhile, had quenched her thirst at the waterhole, and then sought shade by settling down in the foliage of one of the trees in this oasis. There was little wind, and for a while all she could hear were the sounds of the little creepy-crawlies going about their business within the tree’s bark.

Then the ground-bound slowcoaches arrived with their cart, which made an ugly crunching sound as its wheels dragged through the sand. There was talking, a small fluffy white four-legged thing with teeth darted about, and the walking-tree with the grey voice slumped down at the tree-trunk, right below where Kassandra was perched. The daggerbeak was a little light-green spot in the darker foliage of the tree. And she did what always did when a speaking-tree came by. She listened.

But the grey voice didn’t sing. Its owner only played around with those mobile ears of hers. Listening out for something herself, is she? Kassandra had nothing better to do than sing a little song for herself.

“… Grallen … Grallen … Honey! … come out of hiding ...”,

she called in the two of Grallen’s voices that she had overheard so far – the hoarse hung-over voice from this morning, and the inebriated voice from last night at the inn. Then she continued more softly, as if mumbling half to herself:

”You tiny green idiot… You tiny green idiot…"

[Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin]

Altario listened to the rhythmic sound of hoofbeats as they neared the watering hole.  He wasn't surprised Garret hadn't answered his musings about the orc.  Really, what was there to say to his whining?  No, Garret had known that the Remusian just needed to vent his frustrations.  It had made him feel better just to get it out.

The cart came to a halt and he heard Ana calling to him to lend the elfess a hand down from the cart.  He quickly climbed down from Horse, but it appeared that the pink hat lady, Lili, was already there and lending her arm.  Chagrinned, he wasn't about to be out done by a woman, and stepped closer to the cart, reaching out his arm.  "M'lady, if you need help." 

He looked from the corner of his eye at Lili.  She was a tall woman, very tall for a woman really, with a strong build.  She was someone who had spent much time in the wilds, as could be discerned from her strong build.  Obviously, she had experienced her share of adventures, not just revealed through her boisterous story telling, but in the nasty scar that ran across her face.  He wondered what, or who, had given her the wound. 

He glanced back at Airyn, the elfess, and wondered what brought her out here.  She wasn't an adventurer.  Or a warrior.  What was her story?  Something had drawn her out of whatever forest community she had grown up in.  And though she looked young, he couldn't help but wonder how old she was.  He remembered how surprised he had been to find out that Valannia was over one hundred years old.  Was this girl the same?

Then, his gaze travelled to the figure who had held his interest for the last few miles.  The orc.  She was now over against a tree, getting some relief from the relentless heat of the injera.  So far, she hadn't made any threatening moves, though she carried a weapon.  He didn't like that, but was held back from demanding she give it up from the earlier rebuke for demanding why she was even here.  Trying to disarm the creature would no doubt send Ana once more into a tizzy.

He sighed.  Well, if one of them ended up feeling that sword in the back, it would be their own fault.  Personally, he wasn't about to turn his back on her.  Nor would his hand be very far from his own sword.

[Tharoc Wargrider]

Life for Captain Thadeus Illogical of the Strata City Watch had got very complicated over the last few days, and if there was one thing he didn’t like, it was complicated. Complicated made his head hurt.

One of the main sources of his troubles began with the arrival of a large, heavily armed orc in his nice, orderly jail. Not that the fact he was an orc had any bearing on the situation, you understand. Captain Illogical had never found any reason to fear the orcs as a race as many folk did, in fact the few that he had met had proven themselves to be quite decent sorts, all things considered.
No, it was the green fellows voracious appetite, loud, utterly tuneless caterwauling, irritating good humour and uncommon ability to find the greatest pleasure in the things that caused everyone else the greatest disgruntlement that were the causes of his current distress. Not only had the brute eaten an entire weeks food budget in just over a day, but he’d also gone through the packed lunches of several of the guards, himself included.
He’d had to have him removed from his cell inside the main jail into the kennels in the courtyard outside due to complaints from the other prisoners. Not only had that failed to dampen his enthusiasm, it seemed to instil in him an even greater sense of injustice and spurred him on to ‘sing’ even louder, this time accompanying himself by dragging a food bowl across the metal bars of his cell. Now the guard dogs were so traumatised that they would only go out on patrol in pairs.

Illogical sighed deeply and lifted one side of the bright pink fluffy earmuffs he had taken from the orc’s belongings. Immediately his ear was assailed by a mixture of loud “CLANGCLANGCLANG” ing, a deep, common voice yodelling something about “Pleeeeease release meeee, let mi gooooooo-ahhh”, loud whimpering and shouts of  “SHUT IT, GOBBY”, “STOW IT, YA BIG LUMMOX”, and other, less friendly terms.
He let the fluffy ball flop back into place and sighed again. He was doing an awful lot of that recently.

Regardless of all the aggravation he was causing, that wasn’t the reason the Captain had ordered the orc to be detained. In fact, it wasn’t even anything the orc had done himself which led to his current incarceration.

Reaching down, he unsheathed his sword from his belt and held the blade up in front of his face. Looking at his reflection in the highly polished blade, he saw an oddly shaped lump where his nose should be. There was a jagged row of stitches running across the bridge of  the lump, and purply-yellow patches were beginning to appear underneath both eyes. He touched a fingertip to the swollen lump of flesh and immediately regretted it as a bolt of sharp pain flashed through his head.
Cursing loudly, he slammed his sword back into place and, checking that no-one was around, slipped a small hip flask from inside his tunic. He took a generous gulp of the Runorian brandy and let out an appreciative “Aaaaahhhh” as he felt the warm, numbing effects of the liquid coursing its way towards his feet. He took another quick sip before hiding the flask again. “Purely for medicinal purposes” he said to himself, and allowed himself a small smile.

His smile quickly vanished, however, when the cause of his disfigurement leapt unbidden into his mind’s eye. A mere two days ago he had been called to the marketplace where an altercation was taking place between a group of traders and a petty thief, caught in the act of stealing a loaf of bread.
When Captain Illogical had arrived at the market, an angry mob had cornered the culprit in a doorway and were loudly yelling threats and insults at him and, in some cases, each other. Forcing his way through the crowd, he saw a small, wretched looking creature backed into the shallow archway of a door. He, or rather she, was holding her assailants at bay with wide sweeps of her sword and some pretty colourful language. As he approached, ready to tell her to stop all this nonsense and come quietly, the wild mop of hair which obscured her face parted and he stopped dead in his tracks. It, she, was an orc. Her wild eyes and snarling teeth and booze-soaked breath suggested to him that further steps in her direction would be rather inadvisable just at the moment, thank you very much. In cases such as this, he had learned that discretion was, very much, the better part of valour.

Ordering his small troop of guards to move the crowd back, he had crouched down and spoken quietly and softly to the female orc, hoping to calm her down enough to suggest she drop her sword, or at least point it in another direction. To his utter amazement, his ploy seemed to work, and her breathing became quieter, the madness within her eyes faded somewhat, and her body took on a slightly less aggressive posture. Slightly.
Taking a chance, he stood slowly and took a short step towards her. She growled, adjusted her grip on her sword, but didn’t make any move towards him. He took another small step, talking all the time in a soft, consoling voice, the same voice he used with his children when he wanted to lull them into a false sense of security just before he tanned their arses. No reaction.
Overcome with a sense of his own skill, he bent over, slowly reached out his hand and asked the orcess to hand over her weapon. Just at that precise moment an entirely unexpected occurrence set in motion a short chain of events which he still didn’t fully understand.

Just as he was reaching for the orcess’ sword, a fat, green frog poked its head out of a pocket in her coat and blinked at him in that inside-out-eyeballs way.
Thadeus didn’t like frogs. In fact, truth be told, he detested them. They gave him the willies. Nasty, horrible, smelly, slimy, bug-eyed, snot-coloured, belching, wriggly, slygg-eating, swamp-dwelling……….things.
His brain, seeing what was about to happen, screamed at his hand to stay still. Too late! His hand had made it’s mind up and pulled his sword from his belt, and was in the process of waving it in the general direction of the frog when without warning Captain Illogical’s world went brilliant white, and then darkest black.

When he opened his eyes, he was lay flat on his back with a crowd around him. Several spectators were taking bets as to whether he was dead or not. He managed to haul himself into a sitting position and immediately realised two things; firstly, there was a large, flesh-coloured mass appearing in the space between his eyes, and secondly, it hurt when he touched it. Actually, that wasn’t strictly true. It hurt a lot.
Looking down at his tunic, he saw large blobs of blood dripping from the end what he assumed was his nose. That’s ‘was’ as in ‘used to be’. The stern face of Mrs Illogical sprang to mind. “Ye Gods,” he thought. “How am I going to explain this one to her? She’ll think I’ve been out boozing with the lads again.” He swallowed. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.  As he got unsteadily to his feet, he wondered what would be worse; letting her think that he’d got into a drunken tavern brawl, or telling her the truth, that he’d been beaten up by an orc. Not only that, it was a female orc. And a young one, to boot. And he’d managed to let her escape in the process.
Things were starting to get complicated for the Captain of the Strata City Watch.

The following day, yesterday, in fact, after a severe ear-bashing from his wife to go alongside his face-bashing, he’d arrived at work to news of a large male orc wandering the streets armed to the teeth and looking for a lost warg. Ordinarily this wouldn’t raise much concern with him, but after yesterdays events……….
“Two heavily armed orcs in as many days,” he’d said to himself, “there’s something fishy afoot here, and I intend to get to the bottom of it.”
He’d taken several of his biggest men with him to track down the northerner who, in the event, was only to happy to accompany them back to his office. He’d talked and joked (badly) non-stop all the way back, to the point where the Captain had wondered if there was a law against verbal diarrhea, and if there wasn't, could he invent one.

And that was pretty much everything of consequence that had happened over the last two days. He'd decided to keep the orc in detention until he could establish just who he was and what he was doing this far south, a decision he was rapidly coming to regret.
He shook his head to rid himself of the unpleasant memories and immediately wished he hadn't. The quick movement caused his head to explode with pain again, and he felt the tickle of blood oozing from his poor, swollen nose and into his moustache.

He sighed yet again. Yes, things were definitely getting very complicated for Captain Thadeus Illogical of the Strata City Watch, and he didn’t like complicated. Although he was beginning to get used to it.

[Rhia]

The man seemed stung by Rhia’s unwitting rebuff. Upset and shock registered dimly on his stubble-peppered visage as she stumbled back down to his seat, the proffered hand now hanging limply at his side like a puppy that no one would feed. His eyes were dark pools of grief, never leaving hers, but the mind behind them seemed to be absent, leaving the face to stare bleakly at the young woman. Refusal, his eyes so plainly said, had never even formed as a thought.

Should I have refused him? After all, the only reason I know him is because I decided to poke my nose into that alley. That’s hardly a basis for accepting his… his… What was he going to do, anyway, if I had taken his hand? It’s not as if we were lovers or anything…Though she couldn’t deny that she felt peculiar when she happened to glimpse into his eyes. And ‘peculiar’ was the only way to describe the sensation- something akin to taking a bone needle and poking lower back repeatedly and in quick succession, never in the same exact place. Occasionally, too, (though ever time it happened more and more often) the needle unleashed its fusillade of jabs onto the back of her head.

He was so… messy and coarse-looking, though. Reeking of ale, stubbled all over. Eyes bloodshot and hair lank and long. Panpipes keeping her from doing it physically, she gave an internal sigh. I was supposed to take his hand, with him like that? You’d think… well… Wouldn’t it be right for a man to clean hisself up before approaching a girl? Rhia pursed her lips for a rapid ascent of melody into a high, echoing note that pierced the air with shrill clarity. Yes, otherwise he had no hopes of winning her over. Suddenly she was cocksure that her reaction had been perfectly acceptable. Her logic was quite sound and reasonable!

Like a quiet tide slipping noiselessly onto a beach, a wave of confidence washed over her mind, enveloping it with the satisfaction of believing yourself to be right; no smatterings of doubt were visible once the tide receded. Now she was able to face the man without blushing or averting her gaze from that hurt expression; her eyes were the sharp, piercing grey of a winter sky as she stared at him steadily, something almost like a dare in her gaze. Her long, thin nose almost flared, though she was quite sure she wasn't angry, and she hadn't even worked herself up. Well, the man was just being ridiculous, that was it. She gave him another peppery glare to make herself feel justified.

[grallen gast]

“… Grallen … Grallen … Honey! … come out of hiding ...”
Grallen froze for a second, as the voice above her called out. She could see everyone right in front of her, so who..? With a jolt she realised that it was her own voice she was hearing, and she scowled to herself and looked up. Directly above her, a beady black eye looked down with an expression the young orc was not entirely comfortable with. She bared her teeth at the bird, and looked away, determined to ignore it.

”You tiny green idiot… You tiny green idiot…"
Instinctively her hand went to the pocket where Earnest was safely hidden – still there, good. But that didn’t change the fact that this glorified Taenish was not only stealing her words at a time when she was doing her utmost to keep quiet, but it was also directing its mockery at Earnest, whom nobody should be allowed to insult, except me. Unconsciously she dug her nails deep into the bark of the tree behind her.

“Come down here and say that, you scrawny…”
She trailed off as she realised she’d raised her voice just a little more than intended. She shot a glance that mixed nervousness and angry what-are-you-looking-at-ness towards the others. Somewhere above her head, Kassandra made a rude noise, very quietly. Grallen’s nails had made quite deep furrows in the bark.

[Airyn]

Airyn had begun to reach for Lili’s outstretched arm when Altario suddenly appeared beside her, a fiercely determined look about his face. Quickly, she withdrew her extended hand and held it at her neck with the other. Nervously, her eyes darted between the two humans, wondering what would happen if she chose one over the other, or if she just jumped from the cart herself. Altario has left his horse and his friend to assist me, so it would only be disrespectful to decline him, though Lili has showed only generosity and kindness and it would only be rude to ignore her.

Looking from one human to the other, she knew that her silence would become tiring after a short while. The thought of closing her eyes and reaching out to one of them crossed her mind, but was squashed almost immediately. Don’t be so childish! She scolded herself, though trying to wonder why that didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Bending forward, she threaded the needle through the hem of her dress before assuring herself that her bag was securely placed on her shoulders.

With no more time to think, she gathered her things and stood upright rather quickly, wobbling a bit when she straightened her back. She eyed the outstretched arms and smiled sheepishly, taking small, tentative steps forward until she was in reach of both of them. Her long fingers wrapped around both Lili's and Altario's forearms with a strong grip. With no more than a few short movements, Airyn quickly passed through the air and landed on the sand with a soft thud. A cloud of grit and dust flowed around her feet as she straightened her back and dropped her bag to the ground.

Airyn smoothed the dress at her sides and hastily combed her long nails through her hair. Her cheeks were flushed red, but that was from the steadily rising heat. She wondered for a moment what she must look like to the two humans; her hair all matted and face all flushed and probably sweaty along her brow.

After a barely audible sigh, she reached for Altario's hand with her right, and Lili's with her left. Taking a soft hold of each, though careful not to grasp Lili's too tightly, she bowed her head slightly. "Thankyou, both of you," she said, her tone somewhat airy.

Her fingers released their hands after a short moment, and the elfess turned to Lili. "Would you mind instructing me on how to use this?" Airyn bent to the ground to retrieve the malicious looking needle from the bottom of her dress, and abruptly returned to a standing position with the needle clasped once again between her thumb and forefinger.

After staring at Lili for those few moments, Airyn noticed that she looked tired in the heat. "Instead, why don't we go into the shade first? All of us? It's too hot to linger out in the desert sun."

[Damien Scar]

Damien drank and stared not at Rhia but beyond her until he noticed after his sixth, or seventh tankard of wine, that she was staring back and with grit and determination in her face and those grey eyes of hers.

Damien smiled. She had a backbone. She was not going to let him bother her even if he was a Baron, unlike Pagran who hovered over him like a bee over a flower.

"M'lord, is there anything else I can get you? More wine, perhaps? Some food?"

Damien turned and glared at Pagran, "How about some peace and quiet."

Pagarn nodded and thought Damien wanted Rhia to stop playing her panpipes. He went up to the girl. "The Baron wants peace and quiet. So stop playing. Take a break."

Damien heard what Pagran told Rhia, jumped up, almost fell over, grasped Pagran's shoulder and shoved him away. "Fool, I wash shpeak'n to you, nosht the lady," Damien said.

Pagran scrambled away genuflecting as he did so. Damien turned to Rhia, "Pleash continue m'lady," he said, bowing his head slightly before returning to his seat.

[Rhia]

The frosty resolve in Rhia's eyes slowly thawed into amusement as she observed Pagran lingering around the man Damien like an old housewife. A phrase came into her mind- "old maid in pants". While it did not necessarily apply to the innkeeper, visioning him as an old maid, pants, skirt, or whatnot, was a positively comical picture. Rhia stifled a laugh into her panpipes, resulting in a curious sound, something that sounded like "quark," on top of the note she was playing. Several glances, both glowering and mildly curious, were thrown her way, and, right on cue, she felt her cheeks start burning like a regular old furnace. She lifted her head up high and pretended not to notice the giveaway her red face provided, settling on her stoniest look as she entered a particularly complex sequence in the song.

Her mind started to drift. The murmur of the eating customers, Pagran bleating anxiously at Damien all faded away as she felt herself become bound up in the music. Oh, what now? Pppph. Pagran was now bleating anxiously at her. He seemed out of sorts lately, as if everything was spinning out of his control. He was used to not having to worry about what people thought of him, Rhia thought distantly as the man tried to get her attention.

He nervously rapped on the edge of the dais, fretfully tugging at his unkept beard with his other hand. Rhia halted the cascade of notes. Still in the world of music, she waited for him with a patient, vague expression on her face. "Th' Baron wants peace 'n' quiet. S' stop playin'. Take-" He broke off and gritted his teeth, unwilling to say it. Rhia could see how much this pained him. She fought hard to conceal the amused smile that was struggling to break across her heart-shaped face. "Take a break."

Her eyebrows shot up in delight. This was a couple hours from midday, yet! That baron Damien must have some hold on the man. Hastily, hardly able to believe her luck,  she slipped her panpipes into the pocket of her pinafore and stepped down from the small platform. On her way out she planned, however out of place Damien's beckoning had been, to thank him on her way out of the inn. Let me see, Rhia considered busily, One of the strings on the lute is getting awfully brittle, I've got to buy some more, if I can find a shop or vendor here who sells things like that...

To her surprise, Damien leapt -unsteadily, 'tis true, but he was quick enough all right- and clutched Pagran's shoulder, giving the anxious innkeeper a jolt of surprise that would nearly laid him low. "Fool," the baron snarled in his thick drunken brogue,  "I wash shpeak'n to you, nosht the lady." He gazed up at Rhia, whose hands were behind her back, frozen in the act of untying her pinafore, and said to her in a low, gentle tone that had only a few traces of drunkenness, "Pleash continue m'lady."

Disappointment pattered down inside Rhia like rain, filling her up until she thought she would drown. Saying nothing but with a dissatisfied look on her face that said everything, she retied her pinafore and, retreiving her syrinx from the pocket, returning to the dais. With a grimace, she began to play one of the slowest songs she could remember, a dirge. It seemed to take forever, dragging each moment out, sitting heavily in the air. In a moment of surprise, Rhia discovered that she was sulking, something that she had not done since she was a little girl. Oh, flaming pitworms. As soon as the song was finished, she jumped down from the platform and approached Pagran. Rhia plastered a cheerful but apologetic expression across her face as she talked to him, dropping her panpipes into the pocket in her pinafore. "Sorry, but I need te go run s'me errands." The look on the innkeeper's face was one of anxious disbelief. "Look, I doubt th' baron'll mind that much. 'Nd I'll do..." She counted on her long ivory fingers under her breath. "I'll do a 'alf hour extra right 'fter noon." Leaving him stuttering an objection about Damien, Rhia fled the inn, disappearing out the door with a flourish of her olive green woolen kirtle, twirling her white pinafore like a happy little girl.

Throwing a fond look at the sign above the inn door (the picture of the group of fish bearing a pillow), she found her way into the marketplace. Ah, too bad, she thought regretfully, fixing her eyes on all the vendors and their cartloads. She hadn't gotten her pay from Pagran yet. Maybe she could sing a song or two in the marketplace in exchange for a bell fruit...

[Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin]

Altario waited as Airyn seemed to have to decide on whether or not to take his arm, as if she were frightened of him.  Was that how these people looked at him?  Was he that threatening?  Yes, he was a bit terse today, but that had to with Val's disappearance and not these people.  Perhaps he should try and be a bit more civil, he told himself.  There was just so much on his mind, however, that he had to contend with.  These people did not know how much.

She jumped down down, with an inner grace that impressed Altario.  She was obviously unsure of herself, or where she was going, but it did not hold her back.  It spoke much about the courage she had.  He couldn't help but feel a glimmer of respect growing for her.  She faced both him and Lili and thanked them, whereupon he bowed his head, then smiled at her when his face rose once more.  "M'lady, it is my pleasure." 

As she turned her attention to Lili, Altario turned to the commotion under the tree where the orc was at.  Of course.  If there was going to be any disturbances and trouble on this day trip, it would come from the orc.  He could feel the anger building inside him, but swallowed it down again.  It was obvious he was in the minority on this issue.  Besides, it was only a half day to go.  Once they hit Strata, she was out of his life, as were all of the others.

He glanced over to Garret, who was getting some water.  Except for him.  Garret, it seemed, would always be part of his life.  Somehow, that seemed to make Altario feel better about the future.

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