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Post by Nitari Windrider on Aug 2, 2019 15:21:00 GMT -6
Things truly were beginning to look up now.
When he'd started attempting to eat the object he was generously considering food for the time being, Fiona relaxed considerably. As long as he didn't get visibly sick from trying to eat something this far removed from its original edibility she would be far more willing to dismiss the idea that he was anything other than what she originally assumed him to be. Or at the very least it would buy time until he could get a proper meal and get to work on something reminiscent of the actual plan. He was in this area for a reason, after all, and this little detour was mercifully near its end.
Fiona went on a bit about a couple good inns in town, one of which was a repurposed mill and the other of which was more what he expected. He wasn't sure what a "bed an' breakfast" was, but he could guess that the proprietors of such an establishment would probably not be staying out of his business during his stay. That wouldn't do at all. He would need more freedom to move around and operate, and a tavern with rooms for rent sounded much more like what he was needing. She furthermore provided the name of one of the employees, Cassidy, and implied that a friend of Fiona's might enjoy extra hospitality. He doubted Fiona considered treating him right to include the sort of thing he needed but he could handle that problem himself as soon as he got a little energy in his system. He needed time to think and plot but he couldn't just let the conversation fall into silence without saying anything. He needed Fiona's suspicions completely allayed before they got around other people.
"Teague's sounds more comfortable to me. I'm sure the Mossy something is cozy but I've been fussed over enough and would really like to get a drink and try to forget about this little misadventure, you know?"
He idly wondered if Templars were even allowed to drink as he let his mind start wandering. If Fiona said anything more he'd listen but most of his mind was occupied with how to secure a proper meal away from prying eyes. Other Nosferat infiltrating human settlements found luck preying on those the humans called "of loose morals" but Cairnbaan didn't sound like a town large enough to provide such easy prey. He'd have to take his chances with Cassidy. Perhaps he could sit in the tavern a while and consume enough to feign inebriation. Someone would have to help him to his room at that point, right? And if he should happen to be mumbling drunkenly once he was alone with that someone that was hardly unusual, right? Unless it was Fiona herself helping him. Templars were trained to resist having their minds tampered with, so he would definitely need to be careful about trying to get into her mind. If she drank, let her drink enough to befuddle her a little. If she didn't, he would wait for an appropriate distraction to give him an opening. Either way, the tavern was the place to go.
It wasn't long before a small collection of buildings came into view. It wasn't much of a city, but at least they'd bothered to pave the roads. He'd seen human settlements that settled for moving the larger rocks out of the streets and letting packed earth stand in for a proper road and he'd found it annoying to put it politely. Around a city this size there wouldn't be terribly many good hunting places so he'd have to be more careful than usual. As they approached the town he could easily see the Mossy whatever, as its outside hadn't changed in the slightest since its milling days. If his memory of the past twenty minutes was reliable she'd said Teague's was just down the main road and near the town square. He walked in that direction, not getting ahead of Fiona at all and keeping up with her if her pace quickened. He was anticipating getting settled in and laying eyes on his next meal enough that any description of what else was in the town was met with polite if short responses. He'd let her do the talking when they entered, yes that was a good idea. Let her get her lost lamb to stable and complete her mission. Then he'd work from there. He'd need time alone with someone in order to feed properly and unless the Lady favored him greatly he'd need to get rid of Fiona first. Yes, play along with Fiona's agenda until an opportunity to advance his own appeared. Patience was, after all, the most important weapon any good hunter carried.
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Post by Mini on Aug 3, 2019 23:32:17 GMT -6
Grinning broadly, Fiona gave D'mytri a hearty pat on the back as he mentioned that he would very much like to get a drink and try to forget his "little misadventure." She wasn't sure if there really was any other way to describe being chased out of a village, almost being eaten alive by Uroika, nearly freezing to death, and being rescued by a lost Templar.
"Aye, that'll about do it, laddie!" she chuckled. "It jus' so happens that all this snow an' ice are good fer makin' a great batch of Snowberry Ale. Surely ye've heard of the snowberry, aye? It's a rare fruit that only flourishes in the dead of winter high up in th' mountains. Little tiny sky blue berries, no bigger than yer pinky finger nail. They grow in clusters. Bitter if ye eat them straight fresh like, but brilliant if ye brew 'em up. Lucky us, it just so happens t' be right smack in th' middle of winter, and here we are way up high in the mountains. This baltic weather is good for something after all, aye? It's potent stuff, though, so best watch yerself, otherwise ye're liable t' get all blootered after two pints."
This time, she caught the look of incomprehension in his eyes at her unique way of talking. She blinked twice and tilted her head to the side. "Blootered! Ye know... mad wae it? Malkied? Totally oot yer nut? Pished?" She scoffed, shaking her head. "Drunk! Ach. Ye silly southerners an' yer lack of synonyms!" she laughed, giving him another hearty pat on the back.
Soon enough, they found their way into Cairnbaan. The forest seemed to simply dump them out straight into a small little settlement. Sure enough, it almost looked as if someone had politely asked the forest to shift a few trees around and make some room for some buildings and the forest had been more than happy to oblige. Fiona, sure enough, pointed out where important things like the general store and the local church were as they walked down the main street. There weren't too many people out and about - it was freezing cold and had started to snow a bit. Those they did encounter gave them strange looks, but everyone greeted Fiona with polite nods, little curtsies, and pleasant greetings and blessings of The Three to both of them. D'mytri got his fair share of odd, inquisitive looks, but nobody seemed to be all that interested in the exhausted looking pale man wearing a brightly colored wool hat traveling in the company of a Templar.
"... and here we are, at long last!" Fiona was saying, gesturing to Teague's. Sure enough, a big wooden sign that had seen one too many winters proudly proclaimed that the large green building was none other than "Teague's - Tavern & Inn - All services must be paid for up front - No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service." In much more recent paint, some jokester had added a new message in bright yellow paint to the very bottom of the sign: "This means you, Jerry!" Fiona chuckled at the sight of it, shaking her head a bit. "Ah, well, ah s'pose it's a good thing ye aren't named Jerry, eh? Shall I see you inside, or do ye think ye can manage t' not get lost in th' snow from here t' there?"
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Post by Nitari Windrider on Aug 4, 2019 15:53:58 GMT -6
Fiona, as always, spoke at length and about many things. Sometimes when she talked it was hard for him to remember that she was a thoroughly trained warrior fanatically bent on the destruction of his entire species, other times she wished another human the blessings of their gods and it was somewhat easier to remember where his true identity would stand in her measurements. The sooner this mission was over the better. His return to the dark halls of the capital would do him a world of good by the time this was all written and done.
When they arrived at Teague's, the sign proclaiming that someone named Jerry in particular should only enter fully clothed, Fiona asked if he'd be able to find his way in. He turned to her, confusion and mirth warring for purchase over his pale features.
"Firstly, I'm morbidly curious about what exactly Jerry likes to abstain from wearing in such weather as this. Secondly, are you not going in as well? You speak as though you mean to simply drop me off and get on with whatever work led you to me."
He of course had no problems with her getting her consecrated...self...out of his dealings, but it would not do to seem eager. She had pulled him from the snow and delivered him from hypothermia through intestinal trials and unto relative safety, and it would be proper to show gratitude first. Also he wanted another look at that map so he'd need to keep track of her at least until he figured out what she was up to in these mountains. His first step, however, was to get inside. Then he'd be able to have a drink, followed by a drink. He wouldn't be too picky as to which order those things happened in, but both were dearly desired by this point. In order to decide how to proceed, however, he would need to determine the templar's forthcoming whereabouts. She would no doubt have been trained to recognize the sounds of his mother tongue instantly, which would prove extremely inconvenient if he wasn't entirely prepared to ensnare her mind at the time.
Patience, D'Mytri, he thought to himself, Hunters strike only when the prey has no avenues of escape. Listen, watch, and wait.
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Post by Mini on Aug 6, 2019 20:56:42 GMT -6
A bemused little smirk danced across Fiona's face at the mention of Jerry and his unusual habits. It was obvious that the templar was showing great restraint in trying to keep herself cool, calm, and collected enough to not burst out into hysterical laughter at the simple and entirely unexpected quip. She swallowed back what was probably either a boisterous howl of laughter or a very unfeminine snort. Saving face now that they were back in what passed for civilization this side of Travaria, she cleared her throat and settled on a soft chuckle.
"Aye, perhaps it's fer th' best that we dinnae ken. Ah'm sure that I, fer one, kin sleep soundly t'night without needin' to solve that mystery. Some of life's mysteries are best left... well, life's mysteries. Here's hopin' ye dinnae go discovering th' truth of it at some unexpected point in the next day or so, eh?" she asked, flashing him a wry grin. "As fer yer second question," she started, turning back to look at the entrance into Teague's. She heaved out a bit of a heavy sounding sigh as she shook her head.
"Ye seem to have caught on t' me. Afraid that's just what ah mean t' do," she admitted, frowning as she looked back at him. Her eyes shone with genuine sincerity as she spoke. "Ah don't mean t' be disrespectful, an' ah certainly don't wish fer ye t' feel abandoned or anything of th' sort. As much as I wish there was time for me t' be givin' ye a proper check in an' send off, ah'm afraid I am workin' a rather, well... time sensitive issue, as it were. Life of th' Templar, aye? Always somethin' keepin' us on our toes. Th' extra snowfall already put me behind schedule, an' losin' mah way in th' woods certainly didn't help. O' course, it did help you, so perhaps that's not exactly how ah should be phrasin' that," she added under her breath with a little bit of a laugh.
Her voice trailed off and she turned once more to look at the entryway into Teague's. She seemed almost hesitant to move on to whatever it was she was meant to be doing. Was it the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread coming out of a slightly ajar window around the corner? Was she simply hesitant to leave a freshly rescued, half-frozen young man alone in a strange town? Young man? Glory be to the Three, Fi, he's at least your age, if not a few years older! Inwardly scoffing at herself, she rationalized that he wasn't some sad and pathetic lost child who needed reunited with his parents. He was an adult who, while possibly extremely unlucky or extremely stupid... or, quite possibly both of those things... had made it this far in life on his own. He didn't need someone holding his hands every step of the way. Nobody at The Hall of The Three would fault her or scold her for her actions. The Church and its servants existed for the good of the people, after all, and what good was it to not go out of one's way to rescue a lost or injured member of the herd when it presented itself right in front of you?
"At any rate, ah really must be on me way shortly," she finally said, giving her unlikely traveling companion a regretful smile. She paused before asking as politely as a concerned parent might inquire as to the clearly not thought out plans of a child who thinks they know best. "Are ye absolutely sure yer gonna be alright on yer own, though? Ye kin recover on yer own an' safely navigate yer way t' wherever it is ye were plannin' on headin' off to next from here, aye?"
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Post by Nitari Windrider on Aug 19, 2019 20:23:38 GMT -6
He listened patiently as she explained that she had been in the middle of something time sensitive when they'd met. She'd probably been about to laugh with him about that Jerry person, but now her mood was somber, as though she felt she were abandoning him without ensuring he was completely safe. She looked back at the door behind him. Was that longing in her eyes? Perhaps there was another way to get what he wanted out of this debacle.
"At any rate, ah really must be on me way shortly. Are ye absolutely sure yer gonna be alright on yer own, though? Ye kin recover on yer own an' safely navigate yer way t' wherever it is ye were plannin' on headin' off to next from here, aye?"
He shrugged, still trying to seem pathetic but also trying to look like he was a pathetic person who had recovered some meager competence in the last few moments.
"I imagine I can find my way through the door, yes. I'll eventually need to find a map to determine how far off my own course this adventure has taken me, but for now I think I could use a drink. Do you suppose they have a decent meal for weary travelers? We've certainly been through a lot and all either of us has had was that biscuit earlier, and you didn't have any of it at all. It seems to have been still good, for what that's worth."
He knew she wanted to grab a quick bite, she knew she wanted to grab a quick bite, and really all either of them needed to do was determine how hungry she was and if her mysterious errand could spare an hour or two for a good meal.
"Anyway, where were you planning to restock on provisions if not here in town?"
He let the question hang for a moment before putting on his best embarrassed "thinking better of it" face.
"Not that I doubt your abilities or anything," he added with what he hoped sounded like haste, waving his hands to add to the flustered appearance he was only sort of feigning. Lying to a templar was tricky business, he'd been told. There was just enough gray area between truth and fiction to try to operate, but not quite as much as he'd have liked. He'd tried to stick to saying true things, but he knew he'd told her one or two lies and he hoped that those wouldn't come back to bite him now that he needed to trade on what trust had been built up during their short acquaintance.
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Post by Mini on Aug 26, 2019 12:49:55 GMT -6
She nodded a bit as she listened to Dmitri reassure her that he could most definitely find his way to the door, which was a whopping six feet away from the pair of them. He mentioned needing a drink, food, and a map. The way he spoke and the careful way he glanced around a bit, almost as if a bit too shy to make her direct eye contact, made her feel even worse about the growing need she felt within her to return back to her duties. She had been up since shortly before sunrise and, while he may not have known about it, she had in fact had a fairly filling breakfast - as filling as dried fruit, nuts, and the last bit of dried meat she had saved until her "didn't die trekking through the wilderness in the middle of the worst of winter" meal. Also unbeknownst to him was how worn out the Lycoinu attack had left her. Staving them off had taken a lot of physical energy. Channeling that much raw energy through her body had also taken its toll, and she knew she would be truly feeling the effects sooner or later. Because of that, it was far better for her to be on her way and in the safety of the Church when the true wave of Templar Fatigue hit.
Templar Fatigue was what the High Templars called the strange symptoms that afflicted those of them who yielded the Highest Magycks. While very flashy and very effective, throwing around powers such as dispelling poisons, lightning an entire forest on fire with the snap of a finger, or destroying the Wyld creatures by dissolving them into light came at a hefty price. The powerful Magycks did not belong to humans. These abilities were discovered by investigating and wrangling the raw forces left behind by The Three when they first came together and created the world. The High Priests explained that to use these powers was one of the highest forms of prayer humanity had to offer to The Three, and that channeling their presence and powers throughout the human body should naturally result in some sacrifices in the form of pain and other such side effects. It made sense, she supposed, but she wasn't exactly looking forward to humbling herself before The Three by being sick as a lovesick, drunken, landlocked sailor.
No, it was much better for her to be on her way as soon as possible so that she could 'enjoy' her bought of nausea cleansing herself in the hot springs beneath the church. Now that she would gladly thank The Three for. So what in the world was she waiting for?
Oh. Right. Dmitri. She hadn't actually answered Dmitri aloud yet, had she?
"Would that ah could," she simply said, giving him a patient smile and hoping he hadn't noticed her vacant expression while she had gotten very lost in the overgrown corn maze that consisted of her inner thoughts. "Unfortunately fer me, ah jist dinnae have th' time t' sit down an' enjoy a nice, home cooked meal. This time o' year, their special is usually a nice, plump thigh or breast of rantan or elkenbull smothered in all th' gravy ye could ever want. Worry not fer me an' mah own appetite - th' church kitchens will see fit t' provide me with a good, hearty meal, along with th' supplies ah'll be needin' t' continue on down mah own path. That is a nice thing about bein' a Templar - runnin' errands for th' church means gettin' outfitted by the church. As a matter o' fact, that's right where ah'm headed off t' next. The church here is one ah'm sure ye've at least heard of, aye? It's th' Church of the Lone Door, said t' be built at th' very site where The Three were last seen together in this realm. Th' Book of Iesmad The Wise tells us that when they had all finished traveling from one pole t' the next, they proclaimed that all was good and true. They sought out th' tallest mountain peak around an' then stepped through a massive door that stood well over th' height of ten men. Th' Door was made of every wood, every metal, an' every solid material that ever was an' ever would be. Then all Three blessed th' land an' the people, an' just like that, they were gone, leavin' behind The One True Talisman. The Door vanished as if it had never even been there in th' first place."
Here, Fiona paused a moment. Whether this was to let her retelling of one of the holiest moments in humanity's religion sink in and let the awe and majesty of hearing such a tale up in the mountains where the event was said to have taken place or simply because she had spoken quite a lot of words in a very short amount of time and needed to take a breath or two was hard to tell. She cleared her throat softly before continuing. "Once yer feelin' rested, ye should stop by an' pay yer respects. No services until Charonsday, o' course, but th' Church is always open should ye wish t' visit an' offer a prayer or seek out help. As fer restockin' for yer own purposes, ah know there's a general store right back on th' main road. Ah think it's called just that - General Store."
She paused to readjust the straps of her very large backpack, shifting her heavy load around so that it was a bit more comfortable. Dmitri seemed just as hesitant to part ways as she did. She had a nagging feeling about leaving the strange, pale traveler she had rescued out of her sight, but surely it was just her incessant mother hen instincts nagging at her. He would be fine, she told herself, and there wasn't a darn thing about him that looked like it could hurt anyone or anything more than a fly. Parto f her even wondered if he could quite manage that. She heaved out a heavy sigh and bit back a chuckle at the thought.
"If ye can't find it by roamin' around, ah'm sure someone in Teague's can point ye in th' right direction. Just make sure that someone isn't Jerry," she added, a wry little grin dancing across her face.
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Post by Nitari Windrider on Sept 7, 2019 13:32:59 GMT -6
He could tell her thoughts had drifted somewhere unpleasant. The look on her face was distant and somewhat vacant, but he could tell that the thoughts that occupied her pertained to something she wasn't enjoying or wouldn't enjoy at some future point. He was interested, but for now would need to file that away for some future point. After he'd had a drink, perhaps they could revisit this.
"Would that ah could," she said finally, returning to the moment, "Unfortunately fer me, ah jist dinnae have th' time t' sit down an' enjoy a nice, home cooked meal. This time o' year, their special is usually a nice, plump thigh or breast of rantan or elkenbull smothered in all th' gravy ye could ever want. Worry not fer me an' mah own appetite - th' church kitchens will see fit t' provide me with a good, hearty meal, along with th' supplies ah'll be needin' t' continue on down mah own path. That is a nice thing about bein' a Templar - runnin' errands for th' church means gettin' outfitted by the church. As a matter o' fact, that's right where ah'm headed off t' next. The church here is one ah'm sure ye've at least heard of, aye? It's th' Church of the Lone Door, said t' be built at th' very site where The Three were last seen together in this realm. Th' Book of Iesmad The Wise tells us that when they had all finished traveling from one pole t' the next, they proclaimed that all was good and true. They sought out th' tallest mountain peak around an' then stepped through a massive door that stood well over th' height of ten men. Th' Door was made of every wood, every metal, an' every solid material that ever was an' ever would be. Then all Three blessed th' land an' the people, an' just like that, they were gone, leavin' behind The One True Talisman. The Door vanished as if it had never even been there in th' first place."
The torrent of words wasn't impressive per se, verbose as she generally was, but it did interest him. Much of the human religions were unknown to the Nosferat, as hostilities broke out rather quickly after his people had come to this world. A door made of every material that ever was and ever would be? A fascinating tale, and one that made him want to investigate the church she mentioned. He was sure he wouldn't burst into flames or whatever nonsense they believed would happen if a vampyr entered consecrated ground, but he still wondered. If the story was true, this place was touched by the human goddesses. Would he be affected in some way stepping into a church built on that site, belonging as he did to a very different goddess? A matter for another time. There were a number of things he'd be needing first, chief among them a drink.
Oh, and Fiona was talking again. It wasn't that he didn't pay attention when she talked, but rather that the amount he appeared to be listening to the ideas she was expressing was greater than the amount of content he was actually absorbing. He tuned back in just in time to sound like he'd heard the whole thing.
"...can point ye in th' right direction. Just make sure that someone isn't Jerry."
"Now that isn't very becoming of a Templar. Maybe he just finds his clothes uncomfortable, and knows exactly where the store is."
He adopted a thoughtful mien, careful to avoid using the exact same expression as before lest she get the correct impression.
"Although, maybe he has trouble locating his clothing. Best not to ask him just in case. Who knows where I might end up?"
He shook his head, as if trying to clear up an unwanted mental image.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't keep you. We've both had a rather full day and I imagine you have things that require your attention."
He paused again.
"Perhaps I'll see you at the church if you're still there once I've rested and had a chance to venture out that way?"
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Post by Mini on Sept 8, 2019 0:05:20 GMT -6
"Jerry's attitude towards clothing isn't very becoming to th' lifestyle of th' Templar," Fiona retorted immediately, unable to hide her wide grin this time around. Despite her best efforts, she was starting to feel a bit comfortable around Dmitri. Many of the people she often wound up helping treated her with an air of reverence that, in her opinion, was not at all necessary and, being completely honest to anyone who wanted to hear her true thoughts and opinions on the matter, was a bit creepy at times. Highly superstitious folks were the worst offenders, making sure to bow clear down to the ground at every greeting and farewell, shoving themselves through doorways just to make sure they could open the door, kissing the hems of their capes or cloaks for luck, and reciting half the Book of Wyndcor at any mention of the word 'food.' It was exhausting. Dmitri was treating her... well, just like any other normal person. It was a refreshingly different approach to interacting with another human being. She realized that a part of her would be sad to see him go his own way.
Well, Fi, if The Three are in good spirits, then just maybe yer paths will cross with this strange one again.
Fiona nodded respectfully as Dmitri gave her the exit she had been waiting for. She would have much rather have been going inside for a good duck roast and a frothy ale, but there was to be no rest for this weary Templar - not yet, at least. Fighting back the urge to sigh, she simply stood up straight and adjusted her backpack.
"Aye, perhaps ye might. It is possible ah might come back t' these parts in a few days time. Anythin' is possible, ah s'pose," she said, smiling. That being said, she took her right hand and raised her three middle fingers up, then pressed all three fingers against her forehead. She lowered her head and closed her eyes before speaking in a soft, solemn voice.
"Through days dark or bright May our burdens be light And might The Three smile During every last mile."
Once her prayer was finished, she opened her eyes, lifted her head, then flipped her hand outward into almost a salute of a gesture. "Get some food an' some rest, an' whatever else happens, ah humbly implore ye not t' go fightin' anymore angry Uroika, aye?" She flashed him another smile before turning to start walking away. "Fare thee well, Dmitri."
~*~
Teague's Tavern & Inn was just that - the lofty downstairs area was just one big, giant tavern that was filled with an assortment of all kinds of chairs, stools, and tables, of which not a single one looked as if it matched any other piece of furniture anywhere in the building. Some of the tables and stools had clearly seen better days. A few looked as if they could still questionably serve their purpose, but for anybody who did fall clear out of their seat, there was almost always either a drink or a woman to blame... or quite possibly both.
To the left of the door was a long wooden bar that spanned the entirety of the open section of the tavern. There was quite an assortment of wooden barrels, crates, and glass bottles on display above the bar. The assorted tables, stools, and chairs filled the rest of the room. Windows with dark curtains hanging over them lined the right side of the room. In the far back of the tavern, directly across from the entrance, was a massive stone fireplace. Since it was the dead of winter, an alarmingly large fire was merrily crackling away. The flames were high enough to be scorching the top of the mantle, which was marked with scorches and other questionable scuffs and scratches, but miraculously nothing had caught on fire just yet. A staircase was tucked away in the right far corner of the room, which went up part of the way and then turned and vanished around a corner. Presumably, that was where Teague's turned into the Inn.
On a good night, the tavern looked as if it could hold upwards of a hundred people. At present, the population inside of Teague's was 1. Cassidy Calhoun, the hostess, server, bartender, cook, janitor, and front desk manager, was humming to herself as she dusted off the piano that was tucked away beneath the staircase. She was a small, mousy looking woman who was perhaps in her mid to late twenties with light brown hair that was doing its best to fight its way free of her ponytail. Since it was 1) winter 2) the middle of the week and 3) early in the morning, she wasn't expecting anybody to come walking in the front door until much later in the day. Nobody was currently staying at the Inn, so she had sent Nicolai home for the day. It seemed silly to have him sitting around doing nothing, because that always led to trouble. No, a quiet and uneventful day at work was just what Cassidy needed. She would dust everything, do her best to clean and kill whatever was growing under Table 14, then decide what the night's special was going to be.
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Post by Nitari Windrider on Sept 10, 2019 17:33:52 GMT -6
Much to D'Mytri's surprise it actually was emotional seeing the templar leave. She offered a prayer of protection for him, a nice gesture, and asked with a smile that he not fight any more Uroika. She wasn't certain when she'd be coming through next, but offered a possibility that she might return in a few days. With luck he wasn't bidding farewell to his last chance to examine that strange map she carried.
"Fare well, Fiona" he replied, not entirely aware he was doing it.
Why was he sad to see a Templar of all people walking out of his story? Any Nosferat would thank the goddess that a Templar was looking somewhere else, but he really was sorry to see her go. Familiarity. Must be. Simply that he'd grown accustomed to her and being in a new city without anyone to vouch for him was a more challenging position than he'd been in today. It would be ridiculous to think...
He walked into Teague's and was baffled to find it empty. True, he had no concept of what time of day it was at all, but a small town tavern should at least have a couple drunkards taking their liquid rations. Especially with how large the place was and how well stocked the bar. Nevertheless, it stood bare and empty, his only company mismatched furniture and a fire perhaps too large for the fireplace. Motion caught his eye. There was one other person here, then.
"Pardon me," he said, using a voice loud enough to be heard but not so loud that he would seem like he was yelling or annoyed or some such.
After this declaration, however, he found himself lost for words. What did one say when one was the only customer in a tavern? The ones he'd been in previously were all much simpler. Find a table, catching the eye of someone working there along the way, and the experience would sort itself out. Here there was no background noise, no attentive barkeep to send someone to him. What should he ask for? It wasn't as though a Nosferat could just drift through and ask for a dram of blood, thanks much. No, he would have to play things carefully.
The words started forming in his mouth, an enticement to beguile this person caught alone in a room with a predator. He couldn't afford to be hasty, but perhaps a small soothing would be in order to calm frazzled nerves in case he'd startled her.
"Khesna fal deliurgas nish."
He spoke the words under his breath, almost inaudibly, but the sound would carry across the space whereupon her mind, if not trained to resist such things, would translate the speech into a feeling of familiarity. She wouldn't know who he was, obviously, but if all went well she would see the interaction if not his person as unremarkable and comfortable. If she proved to be a good candidate he would use his dwindling reserves of power to induce her properly, but that gertu disguised as a biscuit only gave him enough energy for that soothing and one chance to ensnare prey. The coins in his pocket could procure food but that would be to keep up appearances. The sustenance he needed would be harder to come by.
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Post by Mini on Sept 10, 2019 21:03:20 GMT -6
A man's voice, loud but not in a gruff, drunk, or downright rude for no reason manner, broke Cassidy's concentration. She jumped a bit, startled slightly by the sound of a person she hadn't been expecting until several hours later. Turning around, she found herself staring down a rather pale looking man wearing a brightly colored hat. Somehow without her realizing it, this strange man had opened the door and made it practically the full length of the room without her even realizing it. How had she not even heard the door open? If she didn't know any better, she would almost have guessed that only someone with inhuman capabilities could creep into a room that unnaturally quietly. Her hands unconsciously tightened around her dusting rag as she turned fully forward to face him.
"Oh! You... Where did..." she started to say, but then paused and blinked twice. Her mouth hung open as if she was about to say one thing but then thought better of it. Whatever she had been about to say seemed to just evaporate away. Unbeknownst to her, her ears had picked up on the lilting whisper that had slid off of D'Mytri's lips like hot butter on a warm biscuit. The strange words permeated into her mind and caused her to do a double take at the man standing in her tavern. The tension in her shoulders loosened noticeably. Instead of gripping her dust rag tight enough to make her knuckles oddly visible, she relaxed her grip and stuffed it into one of the pockets of her apron. Wherever this weary traveler had wandered in from, he looked as if he needed a good meal or five, that was for sure. Teague's was just the place for that.
Her momentary apprehension and wariness melted into a warm and welcoming smile. She quickly brushed the loose strands of hair back behind her ears, subconsciously willing them to stay in place for once. "Hello there! My apologies on not greeting you properly. I didn't even hear the door open. You're, um, well, a bit earlier than our normal business hours, you see," she said, laughing nervously. "But that's okay!" she quickly added, clapping her hands together. "That's why I'm here. How may I help you, sir? Are you looking for a meal? A room? Perhaps both?"
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Post by Nitari Windrider on Sept 12, 2019 0:44:33 GMT -6
It was a relief when she trailed off and began to relax. He'd had about enough of situations beyond his control and seeing something go to plan for once improved his mood a little. Coming in alone at what was apparently a ridiculous time to be entering a tavern for the first time put her on her guard at first, but the soothing had its proper effect and now she was a hostess on comfortable ground. He put on his best flustered face.
"Both please. I've had the most ridiculous time of it these last several hours. Templar Fiona found me passed out from exhaustion out in the woods and brought me back here. The frost hasn't taken me at all, but I'm in desperate need of a meal and a place to recover. She tells me this place is the best in town."
That would be enough truth to start with. Flattery opened many doors, as the saying went, and coupled with an explanation for the odd timing of his visit it would hopefully put the girl into rather the same frame of mind Fiona had been in. The more people looked at him as a hapless traveler who'd had an exceptionally trying day the less likely they'd be to consider that he wasn't as helpless as he seemed.
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Post by Mini on Sept 12, 2019 20:10:19 GMT -6
Cassidy gasped as D'Mytri shared a bit of his adventures thus far with her. Her face instantly filled with the look one might give to a sickly or injured puppy whimpering outside the front door. "Passed out in the woods? Oh, you poor thing! You're lucky to be standing here in one piece! Thank the Three that you were found before something dreadful happened to you. The woods this time of year can be a truly awful, dangerous place. And you say a Templar named Fiona found you, did she? This Templar didn't happen to have long, blonde hair and talk about a thousand words per second, did she?" she asked, her look of concern flashing to an all-knowing look of bemusement as she spoke of her friend. She doubted there were any other Templars named Fiona, and she certainly couldn't think of very many who would be stationed up in this neck of the woods at this time of year.
While she was busy making small talk, Cassidy had wandered over to the bar and started rifling around beneath the counter. D'Mytri would hear the sound of some wooden boxes being shuffled around, the click of a small key, and then the sounds of many small pieces of metal being sorted. She stood back up, setting a large wooden locked box up on the top of the counter, and opened it up and began rummaging through it as well. "Fiona is a sweetheart for bringing you all the way here. I imagine she's too busy to stop in and say hello herself, of course. She would be, this time of year. All work and no play, that woman is. I'd expect nothing less from her, of course. Right, then, let's see here. Well, I can offer you Room 3 if you'd like. It's a single bed and a small fireplace right in the room. There's firewood out back in the shed - you'll have to get it yourself, I'm afraid. It's small, but cozy. A single night will be 35 kolds - payment up front, of course. You can go and get settled in while I start cooking. As for a meal, I'll charge you just 5 kolds. Did you have any meal ideas in mind?"
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Post by Nitari Windrider on Sept 14, 2019 14:14:33 GMT -6
D'Mytri smiled at the description. Those truly were her two most prominent features, and really the only pieces of information needed to narrow down "a Templar" to one very specific Templar.
"You've met her, then. Would that make you Cassidy? She told me that I should find someone named Cassidy and that this person would treat me right. I assume that doesn't mean the other people working here wouldn't, but after the stories I've heard about Jerry I'm sure there are all kinds of people living in this town."
He fished through his pockets, looking for where he'd stashed that human money he'd procured. His things had been shifted about a little in all the excitement, and he'd forgotten where he'd put...
He extracted a pouch from his clothes and put a small handful of coins on the counter, not completely certain how much it was but reasonably certain that it was enough. Truth be told he was also using the motion to cover his amusement at her word choice. He did indeed have a meal idea in mind but he couldn't come out and say it, could he? He elected to press on and get her to suggest proper human food and perhaps a guide as to what part of the day this even was for them. He knew where the sun was, of course, but Nosferat sleep schedules differed somewhat from human ones.
"What do you recommend? As you might imagine my day has left me quite disoriented and my taste buds aren't entirely certain what time it is as yet. At some point in my stay I was told I should try the thigh or breast of rantan or elkenbull, 'smothered in all th' gravy ye could ever want'."
His impression of her accent was comical at best but close enough to be identifiable at least. He smiled, inviting her to laugh either with or at him. He hadn't settled on her as his donor quite yet, but he didn't have an abundance of other options so mostly he just needed to know that he'd be able to do what he needed to do without interruption.
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Post by Mini on Sept 15, 2019 20:55:27 GMT -6
Cassidy blinked a few times as D'Mytri addressed her by name. Had she introduced herself to him and forgotten about it already? No, she didn't usually introduce herself by name to customers. Her confusion cleared up he continued on and brought up Fiona once more. The poor young woman blushed uncontrollably, an annoying habit of hers that she couldn't stand, and broke into a bashful smile as D'Mytri continued speaking.
"Oh, goodness, sh-she said that, did she? Ahh, she's far too kind to say a thing like that. Aye, I am Cassidy. Guilty as charged," she stammered, clearly embarrassed by the praise. She brushed her hair back behind her ears and busied herself tidying up the coins and such in her box. She might have gone on trying to not make awkward eye contact with her customer, but then he said something so absolutely unexpected that she actually burst out laughing at the mention of Jerry. It was such a wholesome and pure laugh that she actually doubled over behind the counter. It was some time before she regained her composure enough to stand back up and face D'Mytri. When she did, there were tears in her eyes and a wide grin on her face.
"Jerry?! You mean you know-- oh, oh, wait, oh my goodness, that's right! The sign! The sign outside!" she laughed, fanning herself as she tried to regain her composure. "Ahh, I keep telling Nicolai he really needs to paint over that, but has he done it yet? No, of course not he hasn't." She tried to take a deep breath to compose herself but ended up bursting into a fit of giggles as she took the coins D'Mytri set onto the counter. Perhaps she was thinking of what had led to Jerry's name being vandalized on the outside of the tavern, or perhaps she just couldn't believe the bizarre set of circumstances currently happening in her workplace. Either way she kept her thoughts to herself. Thankfully she could count the coins in relative silence while she tried her best to gather herself. She handed two small copper coins back to him and then the conversation turned back to food. Food was good. Food was something that she could talk about for days. Food was a nice, safe area to discuss.
Or so she thought until D'Mytri busted out one of the better impersonations of one miss Fiona Gagliardi she had ever heard.
It was another minute or so before Cassidy was able to look D'Mytri in the eyes. Once more, her face was bright red and there were tears in her eyes. Her shoulders were trembling with the effort it was taking to not burst back into laughter once again. "For that, sir, you're getting one meal on the house!" she proclaimed. "Oh my stars, I haven't laughed so hard in ages! I'm so sorry. This is so very unprofessional of me," she giggled. "Fiona is right, though. It's rantan hunting season, and we have the freshest meat around. Those little ground digging cave dwellers are a nuisance, but they are quite tasty when fried up right. It's even better when it's swimming in gravy. I'm usually not one for having my meal smothered in gravy, but if you've never had mountain fresh rantan before, then you're in for a treat. Granted, it is a bit early in the day for such a heavy meal, but you've had a trying day. You can eat an early lunch and then spend the rest of the day recovering from your ordeal, mmm?"
While she had been busy talking, she pulled out a key from beneath the counter and handed it over to D'Mytri. It was a big brass key with a tag attached to it that simply read "Room 3." Apparently satisfied with the exchange of money, she closed her wooden box and slipped it back under the counter. When she stood back up, she dusted her hands off on her apron and gave D'Mytri a soft little smile. "Would you like to eat down here or have the food brought up to your room? As you might have noticed, it's not very busy at all, so I don't mind running it up to you."
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Post by Nitari Windrider on Sept 18, 2019 18:02:00 GMT -6
Cassidy proved to be humble, good natured, and possessed of a wonderful sense of humor. Not qualities he looked for in prey but he wasn't in a state to be choosy. He'd just have to be cautious when he finally went to ensnare her.
At the mention of her friend's high opinion of her, Cassidy blushed and stammered the usual sort of self-deprecating nonsense and acknowledged that she was indeed Cassidy. She didn't look up again until right when he was mentioning Jerry, then started laughing so hard she doubled over with the exertion of it. Apparently the graffiti was supposed to have been taken down but Nicolai found it too funny to remove. Cassidy chose the counting of coins as a focus while she recovered her wits. She had just about gotten herself settled again when his impression of Fiona set her off once again. The ensuing minute he spent mostly going over the impression in his head trying to decide how it was this comical, deciding in the end that it must be her state of mind. This interaction hadn't started well for her and the laughter was helping relieve her tension, which was a good thing.
When she finally recovered her composure she declared that his meal would be on the house, which was going to be true anyway, and pulled out a big brass key that went to the room he'd rented. She also commented that rantans were cave dwellers that dug holes in the ground and were considered a nuisance until fried and covered with gravy. It was apparently a heavy meal for this time of day, but she was willing to humor him after his ordeal, as she put it.
"Would you like to eat down here or have the food brought up to your room?"
He almost didn't hear the rest over the need to firmly stifle his own laughter. She really was just falling into his lap, so to speak.
"Well," he began thoughtfully, "Firstly, I can wait to enjoy your delightful rantan meat until a more appropriate hour if there's something you'd recommend. I'm sure once my internal clock recalibrates my body will be thankful for my consideration on the subject. I entrust my digestion to your wonderful cooking, miss Cassidy. As to where I'd prefer to eat, I think I'd like to go to my room. I'll need you to show me the way, but I can wait while you cook if you'd prefer to only make one trip. I'm sure you have things to do besides wait on a hapless traveler hand and foot."
...and artery and vein.
Just a little more time and then he could rest and feed. He didn't know which he was looking forward to the most, but a chance to recover was certainly welcome after all that had happened.
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