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<Rhys> ::the Hall is dim, and hard to notice in the evening shadows. The lock in the door quietly clicks, but the door does not open. None of the lamps or lanterns outside are lit, and no light spills under the door:: * Adam quietly approaches the Hall, hesitantly testing the door before attempting to quietly enter, and quickly closing the door behind him. "Good evening Rhys. Is the plumbing still working?" * Goody Bea pauses in the shadow of the alley, listening for booted feet, a slightly warmer shadow in the darkness. Taking a deep breath, she watches Adam enter, pulls her cloak more tightly about her, and scurries across the street to follow him in. <Rhys> ::inside, only a pair of candles are lit on the bar, throwing deep shadows across the room.:: As well as can be expected, I suppose. Get you anything? * Adam approaches the bar, but instead settles into a chair at the table nearest the bar with a groan. <Adam> ::sigh:: I'd very much like some 'kick, but I rather doubt that I'd be sober enough to work when my next shift starts. Meade please. * Kevil pauses in the alley outside the Hall, throwing a glance over his shoulder and flattening into the shadows as a band of patrolling orcs passes the main street. After waiting to be certain they've passed without noticing him, he tests the door, and slips through with a sigh of relief. * Rhys pours Adam a mug of meade and carries it to him. "The mugs are all sleeping. The less active we are, the less likely they'll notice us." <Rhys> Goody Bea, Master Bard, welcome to our humble inn and tavern. What can I get you? <Adam> ::nods tiredly:: Makes sense. Thank you Rhys. * Orlann creeps down the street, looking both exhausted and miserable. A livid bruise stands out against his dark face and his shirt is torn and dirty. It takes him a moment to find the Hall, standing in a bit of a daze in the alleyway. * Summer peeks down from the stairs and slowly makes her way down to the bar, looking surprised there are people there. * Kevil is wearing sturdy working clothes, a far cry from his usual finery. His pants are ripped at the knee, and both his hands are wrapped in bandages. He looks at the others, and bows with something less than his customary elan. "Friends..." He goes to the bar and slumps onto a stool tiredly. "The house meade, if it is available, Master Rhys." * Goody Bea pushes back her hood with a smile, her wrinkled cheeks rosy. A neat white cap covers her grey hair, and her eyes sparkle with excitement. "Well! That was a bit of excitement. I just thought my favorite pub might be one to flout the curfew, and here it is. A mug of your wonderful meade, please, Master Rhys." * Rhys pours mugs of meade for Kevil and the Goody, handing each of them their mug. * Aeryn sits quietly in the shadows of the alley, watching as the others enter. Taking a glance at the now-empty street, he crosses to the door and pulls it open just enough to slip inside. <Kevil> Thank you. ::he takes a deep drink, then sets the mug down with a sigh:: * Summer slips onto a stool and gives Rhys a halfhearted smile. * Orlann enters slowly and sits down with a low groan. <Rhys> Summer. Anything I can get you? * Aeryn stands silently for a moment by the door as he looks over the group, then notices Kevil and starts towards him. <Rhys> And Corporal. Would you care for anything? <Summer> ::nods:: A mug of cider would be very nice, thank you. * Orlann nods slowly. "Is there..." He coughs, clearing his throat. "Is there any whiskey?" * Rhys looks at the newcomer. "Evening. Can I get you anything?" <Aeryn> Meade, if you will? * Rhys pours Orlann a small glass of amber Moonshaen whisky and sets it next to him. <Kevil> ::raises an eyebrow as he spots Aeryn, then nods in greeting before looking at Orlann with concern:: Corporal? <Goody Bea> Ahhhh. Just the thing. ::smiles again at Rhys and drinks from her mug, licking her lips:: Master... Kevil, is it? Come, child, let me see your hands. What have you done to them? ::she sheds her cloak quickly and folds it over her chair to hide the faded patch on the shoulder. Beneath, she wears a sensible brown homespun gown and a green healer's bag:: <Orlann> ::nods:: Master Kevil... * Rhys pours Summer her cider. * Aeryn pulls out a seat next to Kevil, sits, and offers him a small jar. * Adam drinks deeply from his mug, and sighs tiredly. * Summer takes her cider and smiles a bit deeper at Rhys. "Thanks Rhys." <Rhys> The house special, is it? Very well. ::he pours Aeryn a mug of meade and sits it next to him. He looks to Kevil:: You know him, then? <Aeryn> Thanks ::takes a sip, then nods appreciatively:: <Goody Bea> ::frowns at Orlann:: Oh, dear... you're not looking well either, young man. Come, sit here. ::she pats a stool near her:: * Kevil gives the Goody a half-hearted smile and unwraps his bandages to show his hands to her. His callused fingertips are reddish from overuse, but his palms show several bloody and broken blisters. "Hauling crates all day, I fear." He nods to Rhys. "I do, Master Rhys." <Kevil> ::giving Orlann's bruised face the eye:: What did they do with you? <Orlann> I been... ::he takes a deep breath:: protectin' the food supply. * Kevil processes this in silence for a long moment, then winces. "Bright Lady." * Aeryn looks over the healer with some interest, setting the unnoticed jar down on the bartop <Goody Bea> ::she shakes her head and tsks at the damage:: To use a fine musician in such a way... ::taking one hand firmly and dipping into her bag for a pot of cream. She directs a frowning look at Orlann:: Theirs? Poor lad. <Orlann> ::darkly:: Fightin' for them... so we don't all starve * Summer sips her cider and watches things quietly. <Kevil> ::gives Aeryn a faint smile and nods to the jar:: Save it. The Goody may not be available next time, d'va? <Adam> ::nods:: I know how you feel Corporal. They've got me repairing their weapons and armor. <Orlann> ::takes a deep breath:: Damn them to hell... * Adam raises his mug to Orlann, "Here, here." * Orlann knocks back his whiskey with the air of a man only wishing to become as drunk as possible as fast as possible. <Goody Bea> Now then... never you mind what this salve is usually used for, it should mend your hurts just the same. ::she grins and dips three fingers into the wide-mouthed pot, rubbing the salve into his palm with an even, delicate touch:: <Kevil> ::hisses, then sighs and relaxes:: That feels better already, Goody. If I had any way to pay you... ::he shrugs without disturbing her grip on his hand:: I fear I must owe you a favor. * Aeryn looks as if he would like to speak to the healer, but not knowing name, rank or stature... <Goody Bea> ::smiles and pats his hand:: Of course you will, dear. I've been starting a list, you know. Now if you could find yourself some gloves or mittens, you might spare those hands... but wraps will do, if there's naught else. * Rhys looks Orlann over. "Normally, I'd serve you another with no concern. Things are different however. If I give you a second, can you pretend to take your time with it?" * Orlann considers the question with far more seriousness than it is worth, even now, then nods slowly. "Your pardon. Ain't... never thought nothin' could be worse than Bleakhill." <Kevil> ::nods:: I think I have some gloves, or can find some. It is only that I did not know this morning what task I might be set, and was thus caught unprepared. <Kevil> ::eyes Orlann again, consideringly:: * Aeryn takes a deep drink of his meade, watching the conversation silently <Goody Bea> ::setting her lips in a prim line:: A proper farmer cares for his tools. They might think of *that*, at the least, as they seem to have thought of everything else-- ::she cocks her head at Aeryn:: Had you a question, young man? * Kevil takes his meade and crosses to sit near Orlann:: I might... have some sliver of hope to offer, Corporal. <Aeryn> ::shy smile:: Yes, Ekara, I did. <Adam> A proper farmer doesn't let vermin live in his fields either. Unfortunately I think they see us as the vermin. <Aeryn> You are trained in the healing arts, I take it, and I have some little skill with herbs myself. * Orlann looks up at Kevil. "Do you?" His voice cracks again and he closes his eyes against a surge of anger and fear. * Aeryn looks across the Hall at Orlann, eyes narrowing somewhat. <Goody Bea> "Ekara"? Not from around here, lad, are you? ::she smiles, kindly:: I'm Goody Beatrice... most know me as Goody Bea. I've been a midwife in Marsember for, oh, longer than most of these have been alive. ::she twinkles at Rhys:: Begging your pardon, Master Rhys. <Kevil> ::projecting calm, though his eyes are intent on Orlann:: I met a girl today, as I worked, who offered to carry a message for me to those who are held. <Goody Bea> The allow me to birth babies, still, but perforce I've had to turn my hands to... other things, as well, of late. ::for a brief moment, she looks tired and old, more than her fifty-odd years, but then she smiles again and takes a swallow of meade:: * Orlann blinks several times. "How?" <Goody Bea> ::holds up a finger to Aeryn, turning to look at Kevil:: Your pardon, lad, hush a moment... a messenger? Already? <Kevil> ::shakes his head:: She would not say, though I begged that same question of her. Perhaps, in some short time, when the orcs grow lazy and complacent, or the girl's anger grows enough to overcome her fear... ::he half-smiles again, and shrugs:: In the meantime, I accepted her offer of messages. <Kevil> ::looks up at Goody Bea with a smile:: Indeed, Lady. <Aeryn> But, ::raising his voice:: it would probably be best to keep this as little-known as possible. <Orlann> ::nods slowly:: Your wife... will be glad to know you are well. <Kevil> ::nods:: I asked her also to tell Miss Mandeil that you are likewise well. I have some hope that she will bring back what messages they might grant us. * Orlann rubs the scar of his head wound. "I hope... she don't think that I'm dead. Went down like a bag of bricks..." * Aeryn doesn't look happy at the way this has suddenly become a matter of public knowledge, but figures that Kevil probably trusts everyone here. <Kevil> Given your state when we found you, it did not seem unlikely that she might fear such a thing. * Summer listens quietly but intently. <Kevil> ::flashes Aeryn a quick smile:: Some dozens guard the fortress, my friend. We must trust a few, at least. <Goody Bea> ::rummaging in her green bag:: Might you see her again, do you think, Master Kevil? * Aeryn nods grudgingly, and looks over the members of the small group as if evaluating them * Goody Bea catches Aeryn's judging look, shaking her head slightly and giving him a faint look of reproof in return. <Kevil> I hope so, Lady. I asked her, if they changed our work detail, to leave word for me here, but I would much prefer to speak to her in person again. <Goody Bea> ::nods, holding a roll of bandage in her hand:: Well... perhaps I'd best hold this a bit longer, then... <Kevil> ::cocks his head:: What is it? <Aeryn> ::to Goody Bea:: Ekara is a term of respect among my people. <Goody Bea> ::smiles impishly, unrolling perhaps two feet of bandage and unfolding it to reveal writing, in several hands:: * Kevil skims a few lines, then grins. * Adam grins and has some more meade. * Aeryn looks with interest at the scroll from where he's sitting <Aeryn> Messages? <Goody Bea> Good midwives are in short supply, and babies don't wait. ::she winks:: They watch me with care as I travel, but even an orc isn't fool enough to get between a laboring woman and her midwife. <Kevil> ::turns back to Orlann, putting a hand on his forearm:: I would not pretend that our situation is dire and terrible, my friend. But you must not give in to despair so soon, d'va? Where one may enter, more might follow. We may yet win them free. <Aeryn> ::grins:: You are a formidable woman, Ekara. * Adam chuckles, "I suspect the few orcs who tried it did so with orc women and didn't live to see their children." * Orlann nods again, slowly. "I ain't... I can't lose her, not now... not after everythin' else." * Goody Bea laughs behind her hand and rolls the bandages up neatly again, tucking it away into the depths of her pouch. * Aeryn gets up and goes to sit by Kevil and Orlann. "You won't." <Kevil> ::softly:: Va. We must be cautious, but we must not give up. For now - she knows you live and are safe, or she will know soon. I hope that my messenger will return soon, and we may know they are well, or as well as may be. <Goody Bea> ::sobering at Orlann's halting words:: Aye, it's a bad business, what they've done, lad. Taking lasses from their lads, children from their parents.... ::shakes her head:: And all so *fast*! I never knew such an army could be! <Orlann> ::nods:: They done it afore... one minute, everything was sane and right, and then they were swarming like ants over the village... <Kevil> ::darkly:: I might have guessed at the existence of such calculating cruelty - but not from *orcs*. The dragon that leads them must be... terrible, to inspire them to behave so... unusually. * Summer finishes her cider and pushes her mug away. She chews lightly on her finger looking thoughtful. <Aeryn> ::puts his now-empty mug down:: I am somewhat unfamiliar with the current events of the region, but do believe that there were few accidents in recent events. * Goody Bea takes another swallow of meade, cradling the mug in her hands. "You were-- in Arabel, then?" <Aeryn> That the city should be so open and unguarded precisely when they attack... <Goody Bea> ::frowns:: But it wasn't! Aye, the Dragons moved men to the north, to aid the poor souls in Arabel... but there were Dragons on the gates, as should be, and Wizards on the wall! They're our own good lads, they wouldn't have... wouldn't have... ::bites her lip:: * Rhys scuffs his foot on the floor. "Sounds like they were looking the wrong way. The Dragons fortified the walls, triple manned the posts, only to have the orcs come in the other way. From the water. Rumors are the boats they came in on... Sembian lines." * Kevil tightens his hand on Orlann's arm. * Aeryn looks at Rhys uncomprehendingly. <Summer> They did ::Summer looks on shyly:: I saw them come from the riverfront. <Kevil> ::looks up at Rhys and nods:: The ships we have been unloading are of Sembian make, though refitted. <Goody Bea> *Sembia!* ::looks as if she wants to spit:: Those... greedy foreigners! Slavers! Forty years ago, they wanted our trade... ::shakes her head:: * Adam chokes on his meade, "I hadn't heard that yet." * Orlann stares glumly into the bottom of his empty shotglass. <Aeryn> ::understanding begins to dawn, and his gaze darkens:: They would sink this low, to consort with such creatures? <Goody Bea> ::tsks:: A long rivalry, there was, between that land and ours. But that they would stoop... ::nods agreement with Aeryn:: <Kevil> I had not thought it especially significant... That the ships had been captured, or purchased... But you think they may have *allied*? ::he looks disgusted at the idea:: <Rhys> There's no way of knowing, but... either the orcs guessed many things correctly, rotation of the naval watches, approaches to the harbor, when the fewest would be on duty... or someone in the Dragons betrayed the city. <Orlann> ::softly:: No one would... not such a thing... <Aeryn> ::to Rhys:: The city does not usually guard the harbor entrance? * Adam sighs, "There's always someone who's willing. It's just a matter of whether you can find them and pay their price." <Goody Bea> ::frowns:: But... the Storm Horns... let's see now... they're to the north, and west, aye? "The walls at our back!" That was my Robyn's geography, as a child. <Rhys> ::shrugging:: Sembia's known to sell anything to anyone, as long as the price is right. I don't know if they sought out this trade, but it doesn't seem that they spurned it when it arrived on their doorstep. * Orlann covers his face with his hands. "Vile... filth..." <Aeryn> Storm Horns? <Kevil> ::looks like he would like to spit, but doesn't:: Fethi. <Goody Bea> ::softly:: Arabel... that's a trade city, too. Brandy... horses... the merchant houses. ::nods:: <Rhys> The harbor entrance is guarded, yes, but no one expected the orcs to come in that route. The attack on Arabel, a swarming land attack that was launched in the middle of the night... that's what orcs do. But to come in on ships, shortly after midday? <Kevil> ::eyes Aeryn:: The Storm Horns are the mountains to the north and west. <Goody Bea> Storm Horns-- the mountains. "The Army of the Stormhorns"-- that's what that general said, aye? <Rhys> Aye. * Aeryn thinks that Summer appears almost as silent and shy as he usually is. <Kevil> ::gives Rhys a wry smile:: I do not suppose it would be tenable to suppose that they are not truly orcs, but some other creature covered with an elaborate illusion? * Adam sips his meade. * Aeryn gives Kevil a black look. "They are acting as orcs would." * Aeryn asks Rhys for a refill <Kevil> ::shakes his head:: Not like any orcs I have ever seen. They attacked us in the bright of day, carried off an invasion that had more to do with cunning than brute force, and even yet - though it pains me to say so - acting with more civility than any normal orc might. <Rhys> Of course, stranger. I'm Rhys, barkeep this evening, and for many more, it seems. ::he pours him another meade:: <Orlann> ::shakes his head:: A terrible thing, to be grateful... * Rhys ponders it. "I suppose it's *possible*, but owing to the fact I can't see a good reason for anyone to want to pretend to be an orc... it doesn't seem probable." <Aeryn> Thank you. ::turns to Kevil:: If this is them acting civil... * Summer nudges her mug towards Rhys. "Could I have more too, please." <Rhys> Of course, Summer. ::he refills her cider:: <Kevil> I did not think so, in truth... I only wish I knew what makes them behave so strangely. <Summer> ::Glances to Kevil:: Maybe something is controlling them. I mean like through their minds? <Kevil> ::nods to Aeryn:: For orcs, yes. ::he gestures to Orlann:: What they did to the Corporal's home, butchering every last living being... That is how I expect orcs to behave. * Aeryn shudders. "I do not believe I would like to meet one capable of controlling this many orcs." <Kevil> ::shrugs at Summer's suggestion:: It is possible. But the psionics school is... closed. It would be difficult to get verification of such a thing. <Summer> ::glances to Aeryn and nods a bit:: Well maybe not all, maybe just the ones in charge. ::She shrugs and begins chewing on her finger again:: <Orlann> I do... not know what has caused them to... ::sighs:: But we cain't fight them like this... too much risk... * Goody Bea 's lips turn white. "Butchering--" <Aeryn> ::to Summer:: Is that possible? To control the ones in charge only, and have them keep the others in line? <Summer> ::shakes her head:: I do not know. I am afraid I know very little about orcs. But it would seem a possibility. <Aeryn> If that is so, then we must be even more careful. <Kevil> Is it not how any army operates? Does a general give a private his orders? It would be far more reasonable to suppose that *however* they are being controlled, such things move downward among their ranks. * Adam drains his mug, "Course it's possible. But you'd have to be a darn sight more powerful than anything I've heard of them doing so far. Course if you were doing that you'd lay low since the weakness in your strategy is you." * Adam stands with a groan and walks over to the bar with his mug, "Can I have a refill Rhys?" * Rhys refills Adam's mug. <Goody Bea> ::hesitantly:: The General also mentioned a d-dragon? <Aeryn> ::looks to Adam:: That raises yet another difficulty. This is beginning to look unwinnable without some major power. <Kevil> A major power has been sent for. We must only sustain until it is brought. * Adam drinks deeply, "As a friend of mine would say if she was here, 'While there's life, there's hope.'" * Summer nods, smiling just a bit. * Aeryn looks at Kevil with some measure of astonishment. <Orlann> ::shakes his head:: The cities of men... <Kevil> ::grins at Aeryn:: Have you seen the Tower? It stands near the docks... * Adam looks curiously at Orlann. <Summer> ::mumbles:: sometimes <Kevil> ::winks at Summer:: <Goody Bea> ::sighs and sips her meade, smiling faintly:: Lisl will be most put out, when she and her friends return... * Summer smirks at Kevil. <Aeryn> ::thoughtfully:: I do recall something, yes. * Adam chuckles, "When is Lisl not put out?" <Aeryn> Lisl? <Adam> A friend. <Goody Bea> ::grins at Adam and winks:: She does sleep. And she *can* be bribed. <Kevil> ::laughs outright:: Such delightful understatement, Lady! ::back to Aeryn:: I am... a dear friend of the Tower's mistress. She tells me things, sometimes. Such as when she is sent on quests, d'va? ::his dark eyes sparkle:: * Adam chuckles, "I've never seen her sleep so I'll take your word on that. And I don't have access to ice cream or lima beans, so I can't bribe her." <Orlann> I am glad she is not here... I would not... wish to face her, after failing to protect Tarri. <Kevil> It was not your fault, Corporal. * Adam looks questioningly at Orlann, "And what could you have done that you didn't do Corporal?" <Aeryn> ::turns to regard Orlann:: Had you been fully armored and ready, could you have done anything but die? <Aeryn> No man can face that many opponents. <Orlann> ::angrily:: Nothing. I have done *nothing*, and they have taken all... <Kevil> ::calmly:: The time for doing will come. <Aeryn> You have done nothing *yet*. * Adam nods in agreement with Kevil. <Aeryn> And they begin to become complacent. <Summer> ::nods:: Better that you can do something planned and with thought then sudden and irrational. <Goody Bea> ::with some asperity:: Come now, Corporal. That's no way to talk! None fail who try their best. All we can do is keep trying. <Aeryn> ::seemingly to himself:: Araste Makatar Nih <Summer> ::Glances to Aeryn:: What? <Aeryn> An Elvish saying. ::glances at Kevil:: "He who lives by the sword shall die by the sword, bringing oceans of tears in weeping." * Kevil leans both arms on the table, watching his hands as he runs his fingers through a stretching exercise. "I hate waiting..." <Aeryn> It brings me much satisfaction to think on the end of this 'General'. <Rhys> Hands feeling better, Master Bard? <Kevil> Somewhat, thank you, Master Rhys. <Summer> Patience is a virtue ::She wrinkles her nose and shrugs:: Well it sounds good at least. <Rhys> Thank the Goody. All I've done is pour. * Orlann shrugs, not convinced. * Adam nods, "I don't know much of anyone who doesn't Kevil. Well except for Brad." * Kevil grins at Summer. "I am not always a virtuous man. Shocking though it may be to hear it confessed..." <Goody Bea> ::smiles a little fondly:: Fathers get used to it. Good things usually come of it. ::winks:: Frying pans to the head come of impatience. * Summer grins and does her best shocked look. "I would never believe it of you Master BArd." * Goody Bea takes another sip of meade, adding thoughtfully, "Then again... children often come of impatience and poor planning, too." * Adam chuckles, "You wouldn't know anything about that would you Goody." <Aeryn> ::glances at Kevil's palms, then looks to Goody:: I would very much like to know of your ingredients, Ekara. They appear much more potent than any ever taught to me. <Kevil> ::grins at Goody Bea:: I fear I was in danger of a frying pan more than once, before our children were born. <Goody Bea> Ah! You're a father, now? When did the blessed event happen? <Kevil> ::counts back quickly:: Nearly three months gone. We were... not in town, or you certainly would have heard much closer to the event. <Goody Bea> And, let's see... Loria is your lady, aye? <Kevil> ::nods soberly:: <Rhys> ::outside, the tramp of many heavy boots gets louder and louder, coming up the street. They pause somewhat past the Hall and continue onwards, albeit at a slower pace:: * Aeryn quickly counts the people present. * Adam looks up, looking curious. * Goody Bea opens her mouth and falls silent, listening to the boots. <Kevil> ::presses his lips together watching the window that faces the street:: <Aeryn> We're within the legal limit, if not the legal time... <Rhys> My friends, although I would wish to keep you here all night, I feel that I will be observing standard hours tonight, lest this little gathering become open knowledge on this, its inaugural night. <Kevil> ::nods:: * Aeryn looks at Rhys uncomprehendingly. * Adam nods, "Thank you for being open at all Rhys." <Kevil> ::grins at Aeryn:: Numbers, yes, but out of time, and some of us are out of our districts. I fear they would not be inclined to mercy. <Aeryn> You have a point, Kevil. It would be wise for us to leave somewhat inconspicuously, then, and soon. * Summer takes a last swallow of her cider and stands. <Goody Bea> ::nods:: I'd best be getting home, at any rate. ::looking at Kevil:: The-- children? A multiple birth?-- are well, I trust? Or-- ::she covers her mouth, looking appalled:: Oh... oh, dear... my dear boy, I'm sorry... your wife... the children are with her? <Kevil> ::closes his eyes and nods:: My wife and twin daughters, yes. ::he takes a breath, then stands to carry his sad, inert mug to the bar:: I am not the only man in Marsember so afflicted, and am luckier than some. <Rhys> Good night, Summer. Sleep well. As well as you can, at least. You're still safe here. <Adam> Goodnight. * Aeryn gives a nod of farewell to Summer <Goody Bea> ::nods:: And... Corporal? You have a girl who was taken? Are there any others? ::looking around:: Do any of you know of any others? <Summer> ::nods:: thank you Rhys. ::she smiles and nods to the others:: Good night everyone. <Orlann> ::nods:: The mistress of the orphanage, Miss Lore. And her daughter. We was... all together, when it happened. <Kevil> ::turns to look back at Goody Bea:: Meghan Lore, and her child, whom you delivered. And my housekeeper, it seems. * Adam shakes his head, "I've not had time to find out. This is the first I've been away from my forge since they took over. <Goody Bea> ::softly:: And your girl's name, Corporal? The housekeeper's, Master Kevil? <Adam> " <Orlann> ::softly:: Tarri Mandeil... <Kevil> Ree. Charity. <Kevil> ::very quietly, like breathing a prayer:: Loria. And Aylin. And Shavyl. <Goody Bea> You see... I have another list... ::blushing a little as she raises the edge of her gown, showing a bandage around a slightly arthritic knee, which she unwraps carefully:: <Goody Bea> ::smoothing the bandage out carefully, she takes a pen and a small pot of ink and adds the spoken names to the growing list there:: * Summer watches Bea carefully and smiles. "I should takes some lessons from you too." * Aeryn looks at the length of the list and his face goes hard. <Goody Bea> ::pen hovering, she asks softly:: Anyone else? <Kevil> ::he watches Goody Bea write, then takes a deep breath and straightens, touching Orlann's arm:: Come, friend. We should go before the patrols return. <Aeryn> ::finishing his meade:: Est eionivan ei tie Myotha <Orlann> ::nods again, then, as if remembering, he reaches into his pants and pulls out a small wooden food chit:: Goody, d'ye... do you know of any who might need it? <Goody Bea> ::nods and wipes her pen, putting it away, leaving the bandage open for the lines to dry. She turns to regard Orlann steadily:: You have no need of it, Corporal? <Aeryn> ::looks at Rhys:: How much would it be for the drink? <Orlann> Poor bastard died in my arms... he don't need it no more... ::he sighs:: Damn poor bastard... <Kevil> ::winces and sighs:: * Aeryn looks at the floor <Rhys> No charge for drinks on nights when an occupying army is in town. <Goody Bea> ::nods:: My thanks to you, then, Corporal, there's a family with extra mouths that's been shorted. This will go to good use. ::she takes the chit and covers his hands with hers for a moment:: * Adam chuckles once again. <Orlann> Won't be the first... people're angry 'n scared... attackin the supplies ain't much safer than killin' orcs, but... <Aeryn> ::raises eyebrow:: Then we shall have to see about getting them out, shall we not? * Kevil goes to the door and cracks it, peering out into the alley. He looks back and gestures to Orlann. "Come. Diya will worry if we are too late." <Summer> Be safe ::she nods to Kevil and Orlann:: * Rhys snuffs one of the candles as Kevil cracks the door. <Orlann> ::nods:: A'right... ::he takes several deep breaths and hauls himself out of his chair to follow Kevil:: <Adam> Good fortune friends. <Aeryn> I had better be gone, too. I am well out of my territory here. * Kevil nods to the others present, and slips out into the night, melting into the shadows. * Summer waves to Aeryn "Goodnight" * Orlann looks around one last time, then follows Kevil at a distance, soft on his feet for such a large man. <Goody Bea> ::whispering:: Gods speed you, friends. * Adam finishes his drink, "And I should head back to my forge before my keepers start wondering where I've wandered off to." <Rhys> Good night, all of you. Safe journeys home. * Goody Bea nods to herself, turning back to her bandage-list and looking at Rhys. "Master Rhys, a moment of your time?" * Aeryn nods to Goody. "I would enjoy a discussion on healing the next time we meet." * Summer smiles to Rhys and then heads for the stairs and back to her room. * Adam heads to the door, pausing for several long moments before cracking it open and slipping outside. <Goody Bea> ::nods to Aeryn:: In better times, I hope. * Aeryn slips out the door silently, closing it with barely a click. <Goody Bea> Master Rhys, do you know whom I might entrust a copy of this list to? If I am searched too carefully... I daren't let the list be lost, even if I should be. <Rhys> I suppose I could keep a copy hidden here. Where else, I don't know. <Goody Bea> ::nods and carefully unrolls the bandage the rest of the way, peeling one layer off the other. The writing, though slightly fainter-- and dirtied a bit-- is still clear:: My thanks to you. * Goody Bea folds her bandage back together and carefully rewraps her knee. <Rhys> And mine to you. ::he takes the bandage:: Do you need this back? <Goody Bea> ::shaking her head:: No, it's doing its purpose. Going to bind other wounds, I hope. ::smiles:: <Goody Bea> I'll return as I can, to add to it. Please, keep it safe. * Rhys sets the bandage under the counter, careful to keep it far from the flickering candle. "Of course. And you keep yourself the same." <Goody Bea> ::smiles:: As I can. ::winks:: You as well, Master Rhys. I thank you for the drink and fine company.... they've been sore missed. <Rhys> We try to provide what we can. You're most welcome. * Goody Bea unfolds her cloak from the chair and swings it over her shoulders again, tying it and putting up the hood. * Goody Bea nods goodnight and cracks open the door quietly, peering out and listening. <Rhys> ::the tramp of the orc patrol is returning, growing louder:: Down the alleyway, Goody. Avoid the street. * Goody Bea turns back for a smile and a wave before slipping out the door and closing it quietly, slipping alleyward. * Rhys blows out the candle as the Goody closes the door, and the exterior of the Hall grows dimmer, and easier for the eye to slide over. The patrol returns, still slowly marching down the street. An orc at the head of the column is looking back and forth from a grimy sheet of paper to the houses that the column passes. He is starting to look somewhat frustrated... |
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