It is a warm morning. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. Puffy white clouds fill most of the sky.
Vozhdya Square Forest District ----- (Outdoors) (Cover: Fair) (Owner: Markus Kahar)
Vozhdya, city of industry and commerce, is the provincial capital of the Vozhd dominions. Straddling three trade routes at the Aegis' major eastern gate, rolling hillocks and loamy plains give way to dense urban quarters and a skyline populated by brick smokestacks. Hundreds of stone chalets dot the rural lowlands, centered amid the great farm-estates of the landed gentry. The Eastwatch canal, a broad, glittering waterway, feeds surrounding fields with irrigable water and descends into the very heart of the city itself. Narrow cobblestone streets coil through the cramped city districts, yet inevitably lead to the expansive central square: the living heart of Vozhdya.
The sprawling marketplace is filled with carts and shanties; shops and stores; brightly coloured tarpaulins and independent merchantmen. Yet all are dwarfed under the two great industries of the region, embodied in their monolithic facades of stone and glass: the iron works and textile consortiums. Like sentinels, these twin foundries flank the square at either end. Broad cobblestone avenues expand in all directions. To the west, a chain of forested mountains mark the provincial border; to the east, the Aegis itself, gargantuan and imposing. To the north, behind high walls, the battlements of Vozhd Keep can be seen, and to the south the precipitous towers of The Warren. A large sword stands outside the Loom and Spindle, melded into the ground.
You appear to be alone here. Kahar's Fury stands here. A biinwood sign is here. A Guard stands watch here. An Archer stands watch here. A well is here.
Carriage - 840 arrives and comes to a halt near the roadside.
Eden Kahar has arrived.
Orandi has arrived.
People rush by in droves through the square. Wagons clatter, and in the distance, a horn sounds. Far, far to the north of the square, a lone figure it seen running, panting, groveling with sweat. But nothing is stopping him, as he swerves past wagons, carts, and old ladies, nearly tripping over a little child.
One of those near the running man is a mounted Bladesman, whose horse rears in surprise as Forrest dashes past. Mounted upon the steed, fighting for control, Eden's eyes follows Forrest and he calls out, "For the love of the light, good man! Stop!"
The running man nearly trips over the Bladesman, and calls back "Sorry! In a rush! You know how it is!" He is running backwards at this point, a very dangerous game, as the crowd seems to be increasing as he nears it. Although he turns back, huffing and puffing, pulling his loose pants up as they threaten to slip off.
Eden Kahar grunts at the the words, but shifts his horse to move after Forrest, jumping down with the practiced grace of a horseman to try and catch the man by the arm, and bring him to a halt. "If you're in a rush for such an emergency," Eden says, "Perhaps I could lend you my steed, Master Forrest?" His voice also betrays a hint of annoyance, however.
And in a rush, as if the wind suddenly stopped blowing and the balance of things came into place, Forrest halted, turned around in a red face, and said flatly, "Got a horse! Darn thing won't move, cause I've got nothing to feed it. Just sits there ninnying the whole time. Can you believe it?"
Brow lowering in confusion, Eden's expression grows a little more annoyed... it is well known that the men of House Kahar have a strong affinity for horses. "Perhaps you should buy something to feed the creature, rather than let it starve?" he responds sternly. "Or at least try and get to where you're going with a little more grace. You nearly knocked over a child... He could have been hurt badly."
He collapses on a nearby bench. "You are right, of course, Lord Kahar. My money is running low, and unless I find a way to make some coin, I'll be whinnying too. Books is a tough business."
"Have you sought out the Duke Vozdh-Kahar to that end?" Eden asks, moving to stand near to where Forrest sits. "He will not let a vassal of his -- or their steed -- starve. Even if it involves doing work that is not of particular delight to you."
From the bench, Forrest stands up, dusting off his shirt and adjusting his boots. A wagon rattles by, and a little child screams out of the back while being held by his father, who apparently, is trying the best he can. Forrest winces, but replies politely to the Lord, "I've sent him a few notes, already, detailing the archives, but I haven't heard from him. I assume he's busy, at least, in his proper respects."
"Aye. He is often busy..." Eden pauses, scratching at his chin with one hand. "How much money do you currently have to your name?"
"Uh," Forrest says, checking his pockets. "Give me a second..."
"Exactly 283 Imperial wonders."
"Not much..." Eden responds. Lips slightly twisted into a frown, the Bladesman thinks for a moment, and then casually turns around, fiddling with Orandi's saddlebag. A moment later, his hand emerges with a pouch, which he tosses to Forrest. "This ought to get you by in the meantime. And for the Light's sake, feed your horse."
The young writer slowly opens the pouch, and has to turn away for a moment in surprise. "Lord Kahar? Are you sure?"
Eden Kahar nods his head once. "I am sure. I would rather not have you or the horse keel over from hunger in the next few days... And as I understand it, there is also a boy now in you service who'll need food as well."
Forrest takes the pouch and ties it upon his belt. He looks up with a wistful smile at the mention of Moth, and nods as if he was a happy father. "Indeed, so you have met Moth? I hope he was cordial to you."
For some reason, Forrest's reaction and question cause Eden to all of a sudden burst into laughter. The young Lord Captain stifles it quickly with one hand, but the mirth does not fade from his eyes. "Our first meeting was most... interesting."
The bookkeeper frowns, suddenly. A hawker in the distance calls out for a customer, an old lady with a red scarf, who promptly ignores him. Forrest glances at her, but turns back. "He did not misbehave himself?"
Eden Kahar's lips form a thin, tight line, and he slowly folds his arms across his armoured chest. "He did... Nearly got himself into an enormous amount of trouble, in fact, but I managed to drag him away from it. Literally. And I think he's learnt his lesson." Exactly what that 'lesson' was is not said, and the enigmatic tone in the Bladesman's voice gives little hint.
Forrest Wineburn sighs. "I am sorry, Lord Kahar. He is new, and I have yet to begin and teach him the art of ettiquete. He is a poor child, and I believe his mother is in poor condition." Forrest looks off into the distance. "But generosity is worth a thousand coins, and love is uncountable. I know he will learn."
"Yes, I am sure he will. The story has a happy ending, fortunately. After I... enlightened him on the seriousness of his situation, I brought him back to Vozdhya, as he had said he was in your employ. The story is his tell to tell, if you wish to hear it," Eden responds, one hand rising to absently stroke the long mane of his horse. "He was obviously in need of food and rest, though, so I saw him well fed at the Gold Coin, and then left him with a room for the night... And he apologised to me for his behaviour. I have some questions I wanted to ask you about him, though..."
"Ah, you are most kind Lord Kahar. Thank you for helping him." Forrest turns back to face Lord Kahar, a smile coming to the edges of his face. "Yes, I will try to answer what I can."
"How did he come into your employ? How did you meet him?" Eden asks, giving little preamble to his questions.
Forrest frowns, scratching his head. "Let me see..." He mumbles a few words, talking to himself in a low, absent tone, and then raises his eyes again and speaks. "It was a late night. I can't recall if there was a cloudless moon or not, but I was in the midst of trying to find a merchant house in the city that could provide my needs. I believe his mother, that is, Moth's mother, sent him to beg for a coin, for he looked like he had been on the road for awhile. He had a piece of bread with him, and was in a sour mood. I was very tired, but something struck me as he spoke to me. Perhaps it was an inherent intelligence I saw in him, perhaps something else, but I told him to come to my bookshop. I found he had not gone to school, and decided then to school him myself."
Eden Kahar listens to the story with evident curiosity, brows arching at the preciseness with which Forrest relates it, and he even smiles at the mention of the bread. "He still had the Shadow-damned loaf with him when I first saw him," the Bladesmen interjects quickly, before gesturing for Forrest to go on.
"Ah, as I was saying," Forrest continues, "I took him as a student, and told him I'd pay him a small fee to operate my bookshop while I was gone, and in return I'd give him clothes and food and a place to sleep. I have been busy, as of late, but as I only took him into my employ but two days ago, I already see I have my work cut out for me."
Eden Kahar nods his head slightly. He seems about to say something, then reconsiders, and instead asks, "Do you know where he is from?"
Forrest is silent for a moment. He traces an idle finger along the stubble of his chin, and crosses his eyes in vexation. "I believe, now Lord Kahar, for I have not asked him squarely yet, that he is from the countryside. He had that look about him. He's a trifle troublesome, this is true, but I can't admit that this is duly because of his homeland. Just improper training in formality, perhaps."
"That's an optimistic guess," Eden responds with a hint of rue, continuing to stroke his steed along its neck. "I suspect that he is no vassal's son... But rather a peasant, from the Shadow District."
"You suspect?" Forrest paces, dropping out of the street to the sidewalk, beneath a shade from a local shop. He leans against the wall, and turns up to face the Lord Kahar. "Do you know for sure?" He is talking in a whisper, his eyes wide and huge.
Eden Kahar does not follow Forrest immediately, instead turning till he finds a familiar passerby -- in this case, a young man -- to whom he hands the reigns of his horse and a few coins, so that they might take Orandi away to be stabled. Turning back, he marks Forrest's location in the shade of the shop, and follows him, joining the archivist in the shadows. "I am not sure; I have no evidence. He would not tell me where he was from, but after I put him to bed, I went to the Keep and examined the records of my uncle's vassals... And there is no mention of a boy by his name among them. True, 'Moth' is a strange name he may have given himself..." The Bladesman pauses to take a breath and survey the streets beyond.
The young man nods, staring at the ground as if his eyes had been nailed to the boards. "I understand, Lord Kahar. I will practice discresion with this." Forrest looks at the Lord Kahar, and smiles. "I thank you for telling me this. Although it is strange, how he would have left that awful place, it is even more a wonder how he made it here. Perhaps there is nothing to worry about, but discresion is wise." "Wise," he repeats to himself, taking a deep breath in.
"Coming here is no wonder... And he does it to support his mother and younger siblings. This much he told me," Eden responds, looking back to Forrest. "The fact that he chooses an honest trade rather than thievery shines in his favour, though. But he is not of Vozdhya, I know that much... He spoke no Vozhd himself, and acted in a way that made it clear he was brought up in a hard, unkind place. He was afraid to enter the Gold Coin Tavern, thinking it to be a hellhole like the dens of the Shadow District, and later told me that his father had been killed in a tavern brawl. Clearly, he is from no civilised place. But," the Bladesman add, voice dropping to a mere whisper, "You must not tell anyone this. His kind have no rights -- perhaps I would not have even paid him heed if I had know."
Wineburn bows his head in silence, and says quietly, "I understand, Lord Kahar. I, of course, will endevour to make his stay in Vozhd as pleasant as possible for the people of this wonderful city." Forrest looks into the afternoon sky, and speaks idly, "Sometimes, this world does bring such interesting conundrums, does it not, Lord Kahar?"
"It certainly does... Looking out for a peasant boy was never something I would think to do," Eden responds, wryness in his voice. "But I thank you for giving him a chance... And if you need my aid, you need only let me know. I will keep my own eye on him, and perhaps some time in the company of the good and honest folk of Vozdhya will help to set him straight."
"Your offer is most kind, Lord," Forrest says. The street has quieted, the wagons less now, only a few people marching down the street with unknowable consequences in their heads. The hard sun shines down on the dusty road, and a passing cloud shadows a hole in the road. Forrest begins to walk slowly back to the square, quite aware now of the faces around him. His sweat has dried off, and he breath stable. He turns to the Lord. "I must ask your pardon, Lord Kahar. It seems I have a boy to check on." He grins from the edge of his mouth.
"And a horse," Eden adds with a hint of a smile, following Forrest out from the shadows.
"Oh, my! Of course!" Forrest turns to run, flourishes a very quick bow, and apologizes with a turn of his head. "I almost forgot! Thank you!"
"Farewell, Master Forest," the Lord Captain responds, raising a hand to wave to him, before turning to head his own way.
Forrest Wineburn dashes off, the tails of his shirt flinging behind him. He burns a path through the dust, and disappears into the shadows of the Broselov Circle.
Vozhdya Square Forest District ----- (Outdoors) (Cover: Fair) (Owner: Markus Kahar)
Vozhdya, city of industry and commerce, is the provincial capital of the Vozhd dominions. Straddling three trade routes at the Aegis' major eastern gate, rolling hillocks and loamy plains give way to dense urban quarters and a skyline populated by brick smokestacks. Hundreds of stone chalets dot the rural lowlands, centered amid the great farm-estates of the landed gentry. The Eastwatch canal, a broad, glittering waterway, feeds surrounding fields with irrigable water and descends into the very heart of the city itself. Narrow cobblestone streets coil through the cramped city districts, yet inevitably lead to the expansive central square: the living heart of Vozhdya.
The sprawling marketplace is filled with carts and shanties; shops and stores; brightly coloured tarpaulins and independent merchantmen. Yet all are dwarfed under the two great industries of the region, embodied in their monolithic facades of stone and glass: the iron works and textile consortiums. Like sentinels, these twin foundries flank the square at either end. Broad cobblestone avenues expand in all directions. To the west, a chain of forested mountains mark the provincial border; to the east, the Aegis itself, gargantuan and imposing. To the north, behind high walls, the battlements of Vozhd Keep can be seen, and to the south the precipitous towers of The Warren. A large sword stands outside the Loom and Spindle, melded into the ground.
You appear to be alone here. Kahar's Fury stands here. A biinwood sign is here. A Guard stands watch here. An Archer stands watch here. A well is here.
Carriage - 840 arrives and comes to a halt near the roadside.
Eden Kahar has arrived.
Orandi has arrived.
People rush by in droves through the square. Wagons clatter, and in the distance, a horn sounds. Far, far to the north of the square, a lone figure it seen running, panting, groveling with sweat. But nothing is stopping him, as he swerves past wagons, carts, and old ladies, nearly tripping over a little child.
One of those near the running man is a mounted Bladesman, whose horse rears in surprise as Forrest dashes past. Mounted upon the steed, fighting for control, Eden's eyes follows Forrest and he calls out, "For the love of the light, good man! Stop!"
The running man nearly trips over the Bladesman, and calls back "Sorry! In a rush! You know how it is!" He is running backwards at this point, a very dangerous game, as the crowd seems to be increasing as he nears it. Although he turns back, huffing and puffing, pulling his loose pants up as they threaten to slip off.
Eden Kahar grunts at the the words, but shifts his horse to move after Forrest, jumping down with the practiced grace of a horseman to try and catch the man by the arm, and bring him to a halt. "If you're in a rush for such an emergency," Eden says, "Perhaps I could lend you my steed, Master Forrest?" His voice also betrays a hint of annoyance, however.
And in a rush, as if the wind suddenly stopped blowing and the balance of things came into place, Forrest halted, turned around in a red face, and said flatly, "Got a horse! Darn thing won't move, cause I've got nothing to feed it. Just sits there ninnying the whole time. Can you believe it?"
Brow lowering in confusion, Eden's expression grows a little more annoyed... it is well known that the men of House Kahar have a strong affinity for horses. "Perhaps you should buy something to feed the creature, rather than let it starve?" he responds sternly. "Or at least try and get to where you're going with a little more grace. You nearly knocked over a child... He could have been hurt badly."
He collapses on a nearby bench. "You are right, of course, Lord Kahar. My money is running low, and unless I find a way to make some coin, I'll be whinnying too. Books is a tough business."
"Have you sought out the Duke Vozdh-Kahar to that end?" Eden asks, moving to stand near to where Forrest sits. "He will not let a vassal of his -- or their steed -- starve. Even if it involves doing work that is not of particular delight to you."
From the bench, Forrest stands up, dusting off his shirt and adjusting his boots. A wagon rattles by, and a little child screams out of the back while being held by his father, who apparently, is trying the best he can. Forrest winces, but replies politely to the Lord, "I've sent him a few notes, already, detailing the archives, but I haven't heard from him. I assume he's busy, at least, in his proper respects."
"Aye. He is often busy..." Eden pauses, scratching at his chin with one hand. "How much money do you currently have to your name?"
"Uh," Forrest says, checking his pockets. "Give me a second..."
"Exactly 283 Imperial wonders."
"Not much..." Eden responds. Lips slightly twisted into a frown, the Bladesman thinks for a moment, and then casually turns around, fiddling with Orandi's saddlebag. A moment later, his hand emerges with a pouch, which he tosses to Forrest. "This ought to get you by in the meantime. And for the Light's sake, feed your horse."
The young writer slowly opens the pouch, and has to turn away for a moment in surprise. "Lord Kahar? Are you sure?"
Eden Kahar nods his head once. "I am sure. I would rather not have you or the horse keel over from hunger in the next few days... And as I understand it, there is also a boy now in you service who'll need food as well."
Forrest takes the pouch and ties it upon his belt. He looks up with a wistful smile at the mention of Moth, and nods as if he was a happy father. "Indeed, so you have met Moth? I hope he was cordial to you."
For some reason, Forrest's reaction and question cause Eden to all of a sudden burst into laughter. The young Lord Captain stifles it quickly with one hand, but the mirth does not fade from his eyes. "Our first meeting was most... interesting."
The bookkeeper frowns, suddenly. A hawker in the distance calls out for a customer, an old lady with a red scarf, who promptly ignores him. Forrest glances at her, but turns back. "He did not misbehave himself?"
Eden Kahar's lips form a thin, tight line, and he slowly folds his arms across his armoured chest. "He did... Nearly got himself into an enormous amount of trouble, in fact, but I managed to drag him away from it. Literally. And I think he's learnt his lesson." Exactly what that 'lesson' was is not said, and the enigmatic tone in the Bladesman's voice gives little hint.
Forrest Wineburn sighs. "I am sorry, Lord Kahar. He is new, and I have yet to begin and teach him the art of ettiquete. He is a poor child, and I believe his mother is in poor condition." Forrest looks off into the distance. "But generosity is worth a thousand coins, and love is uncountable. I know he will learn."
"Yes, I am sure he will. The story has a happy ending, fortunately. After I... enlightened him on the seriousness of his situation, I brought him back to Vozdhya, as he had said he was in your employ. The story is his tell to tell, if you wish to hear it," Eden responds, one hand rising to absently stroke the long mane of his horse. "He was obviously in need of food and rest, though, so I saw him well fed at the Gold Coin, and then left him with a room for the night... And he apologised to me for his behaviour. I have some questions I wanted to ask you about him, though..."
"Ah, you are most kind Lord Kahar. Thank you for helping him." Forrest turns back to face Lord Kahar, a smile coming to the edges of his face. "Yes, I will try to answer what I can."
"How did he come into your employ? How did you meet him?" Eden asks, giving little preamble to his questions.
Forrest frowns, scratching his head. "Let me see..." He mumbles a few words, talking to himself in a low, absent tone, and then raises his eyes again and speaks. "It was a late night. I can't recall if there was a cloudless moon or not, but I was in the midst of trying to find a merchant house in the city that could provide my needs. I believe his mother, that is, Moth's mother, sent him to beg for a coin, for he looked like he had been on the road for awhile. He had a piece of bread with him, and was in a sour mood. I was very tired, but something struck me as he spoke to me. Perhaps it was an inherent intelligence I saw in him, perhaps something else, but I told him to come to my bookshop. I found he had not gone to school, and decided then to school him myself."
Eden Kahar listens to the story with evident curiosity, brows arching at the preciseness with which Forrest relates it, and he even smiles at the mention of the bread. "He still had the Shadow-damned loaf with him when I first saw him," the Bladesmen interjects quickly, before gesturing for Forrest to go on.
"Ah, as I was saying," Forrest continues, "I took him as a student, and told him I'd pay him a small fee to operate my bookshop while I was gone, and in return I'd give him clothes and food and a place to sleep. I have been busy, as of late, but as I only took him into my employ but two days ago, I already see I have my work cut out for me."
Eden Kahar nods his head slightly. He seems about to say something, then reconsiders, and instead asks, "Do you know where he is from?"
Forrest is silent for a moment. He traces an idle finger along the stubble of his chin, and crosses his eyes in vexation. "I believe, now Lord Kahar, for I have not asked him squarely yet, that he is from the countryside. He had that look about him. He's a trifle troublesome, this is true, but I can't admit that this is duly because of his homeland. Just improper training in formality, perhaps."
"That's an optimistic guess," Eden responds with a hint of rue, continuing to stroke his steed along its neck. "I suspect that he is no vassal's son... But rather a peasant, from the Shadow District."
"You suspect?" Forrest paces, dropping out of the street to the sidewalk, beneath a shade from a local shop. He leans against the wall, and turns up to face the Lord Kahar. "Do you know for sure?" He is talking in a whisper, his eyes wide and huge.
Eden Kahar does not follow Forrest immediately, instead turning till he finds a familiar passerby -- in this case, a young man -- to whom he hands the reigns of his horse and a few coins, so that they might take Orandi away to be stabled. Turning back, he marks Forrest's location in the shade of the shop, and follows him, joining the archivist in the shadows. "I am not sure; I have no evidence. He would not tell me where he was from, but after I put him to bed, I went to the Keep and examined the records of my uncle's vassals... And there is no mention of a boy by his name among them. True, 'Moth' is a strange name he may have given himself..." The Bladesman pauses to take a breath and survey the streets beyond.
The young man nods, staring at the ground as if his eyes had been nailed to the boards. "I understand, Lord Kahar. I will practice discresion with this." Forrest looks at the Lord Kahar, and smiles. "I thank you for telling me this. Although it is strange, how he would have left that awful place, it is even more a wonder how he made it here. Perhaps there is nothing to worry about, but discresion is wise." "Wise," he repeats to himself, taking a deep breath in.
"Coming here is no wonder... And he does it to support his mother and younger siblings. This much he told me," Eden responds, looking back to Forrest. "The fact that he chooses an honest trade rather than thievery shines in his favour, though. But he is not of Vozdhya, I know that much... He spoke no Vozhd himself, and acted in a way that made it clear he was brought up in a hard, unkind place. He was afraid to enter the Gold Coin Tavern, thinking it to be a hellhole like the dens of the Shadow District, and later told me that his father had been killed in a tavern brawl. Clearly, he is from no civilised place. But," the Bladesman add, voice dropping to a mere whisper, "You must not tell anyone this. His kind have no rights -- perhaps I would not have even paid him heed if I had know."
Wineburn bows his head in silence, and says quietly, "I understand, Lord Kahar. I, of course, will endevour to make his stay in Vozhd as pleasant as possible for the people of this wonderful city." Forrest looks into the afternoon sky, and speaks idly, "Sometimes, this world does bring such interesting conundrums, does it not, Lord Kahar?"
"It certainly does... Looking out for a peasant boy was never something I would think to do," Eden responds, wryness in his voice. "But I thank you for giving him a chance... And if you need my aid, you need only let me know. I will keep my own eye on him, and perhaps some time in the company of the good and honest folk of Vozdhya will help to set him straight."
"Your offer is most kind, Lord," Forrest says. The street has quieted, the wagons less now, only a few people marching down the street with unknowable consequences in their heads. The hard sun shines down on the dusty road, and a passing cloud shadows a hole in the road. Forrest begins to walk slowly back to the square, quite aware now of the faces around him. His sweat has dried off, and he breath stable. He turns to the Lord. "I must ask your pardon, Lord Kahar. It seems I have a boy to check on." He grins from the edge of his mouth.
"And a horse," Eden adds with a hint of a smile, following Forrest out from the shadows.
"Oh, my! Of course!" Forrest turns to run, flourishes a very quick bow, and apologizes with a turn of his head. "I almost forgot! Thank you!"
"Farewell, Master Forest," the Lord Captain responds, raising a hand to wave to him, before turning to head his own way.
Forrest Wineburn dashes off, the tails of his shirt flinging behind him. He burns a path through the dust, and disappears into the shadows of the Broselov Circle.