The tavern of the Gold Coin is a remarkably attractive redbrick cottage. Inside, its terracotta tile flooring is covered with thick, warm embroidered carpets. A large, circular firepit is centered in the room, capped by a rack supporting several rotating spits of meat. The walls are decorated with various images of Vozhdya's glorious past, from the Wildling Wars to the coronation of House Vozhd. Mounted highest of all, however, is a portrait depicting the Ascension of Emperor Talus Kahar XI.
Overhead hangs a large, three-tiered iron-and-copper candelabrum, swaying gently. The atmosphere is one of familiarity, as various persons - mostly soldiers - play games at the large ebon tables. Perhaps a dozen of these populate the room. The second story of the cottage is dedicated to small sleeping quarters for guests. A door to the kitchen is visible, as is a large biinwood bar stocked with copious amounts of booze.
"They don't sound much like friends," Eden responds, then, though not questioning further, "But you will find people here quite different, I am sure. Master Forrest is a friend, no?" The Bladesman finishes off the last of his chicken, and then eyes the remnants of his potatoes. "Do you know how to ride?"
Blinking in the hard night, Forrest Wineburn ambles into the tavern, rubbing his eyes and collapsing at a nearby table to the door of the Gold Coin. He is weary - his face shows it, and he has trouble keeping his eyes open. He scans the tavern, obviously looking for something, his eyes heavy with a barrage of thought.
Moth shifts his eyes to the table, then smiles winningly at Eden. "Um... of course I know how to ride!" After a moment, he says, "No, not really, I don't." The boy hears the door to the tavern open and spots Forrest, jumping out of his seat and scurrying over to the man. "Hey! Master Wineburn, hi! You don't look so good..."
"Master Moth," Wineburn blurts out. "Why in the name of the Light are you out so late? I've been looking all over town for you."
"Well, I can always teach you..." Eden's words drift off as the boy is already scurrying away, but he follows Moth's path of departure, catching sight of Master Forrest. Rising to his feet, he follows after him -- leaving the dregs of their meal unattended -- brows arching as he hears the archivist's words. But he says nothing for the moment.
"I... I've been with Lord Captain Eden!" Moth bubbles, gesturing to the man. "You've been looking for me? But... but I was in the shop all day... then I just came here when it got dark, and..." he trails off, fidgeting with his sleeves and look at Forrest apologetically.
Sighing, Forrest nods and thumbs the table. Seeing Lord Kahar approach, he smiles. "Ah,
my Lord, I see you have been chosen by whatever fate guides us to watch over this boy during my
absence. I do thank you."
Coming to halt behind Moth, Eden places his hands upon the boy's shoulders lightly -- perhaps a gesture of support. "There is nothing to thank me for, Master Wineburn. Except, perhaps, a few much-needed lessons in courtesy," he looks down to the boy.
"But of course. I believe tomorrow we have a lesson in speaking to your elders, do we not Moth?" Forrest looks at the boy, who seems to be distracted at the moment. "I hope by next week, I can begin to teach him the rudiments of the language. Of course," Forrest continues, holding his shirt collar with two fingers, "I'm sure he would benefit highly from training on a horse. That seems to be a wonderful idea, Lord Kahar."
"Pfft..." Moth says to the mention of courtesy, looking up at Eden. "Maybe she shoulda been polite to me, first," he mutters before shifting his gaze back to Forrest. "Yeah! I wanna ride a horse... I want my -own- horse," he says, his eyes wide with excitement. "And I want a cat! Oh, I know, Master Wineburn! You can get a cat for your shop!"
"A horse?" Forrest snorts, shaking his head dismally. "In time, Master Moth, once you have grown
a few feet and can address a lady properly."
The hands on Moth's shoulders squeeze them slightly in mild reproach. "I think he will definitely need the lesson in speaking to his elders, and to his betters," Eden says to the archivist, though clearly the words are also intended for Moth, "And to know what expectations he should have of noble-born lords and ladies. I'm afraid I'm more used to effectively disciplining Bladesmen than children..." the young Lord Captain adds, before once more directly addressing the boy, "And among learning to ride a horse, perhaps some other things would be of interest and use to you, Moth."
The demands for a cat and a horse are left untouched by Eden for the moment.
As Eden talks, Moth rolls his eyes, feigning a gesture of disgust that, hopefully, Eden doesn't see. He doesn't try to squirm out of the grip on his bony shoulders, and instead stands peacefully, glancing up at Eden every now and then. "What other things, then? I want a cat."
He eyes the boy, Forrest does, scratching the back of his neck and shaking his head ruefully. "A cat?" He asks, bewildered. "Whatever for?"
The gesture of disgust goes unnoticed, the height difference between the two making it hard for Eden to catch Moth's expressions when he's not looking up at him. "Well, a cat I'm not sure about..." he looks to Forrest. "Are you the kind who keeps pets, Master Wineburn? And remembers to feed them?" he adds with a hint of rue.
"I really want a cat. A fat one. I'd feed it, and it would lay in the sun and when I pick it up, it would be warm and it would purr." Moth says all this in the space of one breath, a smile on his face. "And if I had a horse, I would feed it and ride it around and it would be spotted, and I would name it... I would name it... um... Apple Pie!"
Hanging back in his chair, as if he were deep in thought, Forrest lets out a content chuckle, shrugging his sleepy shoulders and rolling his eyes. "If you keep the shop up good, and you are polite," Forrest says with some accentuation, "to both customers and the people in this city, then perhaps you might have a gift coming, to ease those long hours. A cat I can't say, but you might receive something. That is, if I receive a good report from Lord Kahar on your behavior." The writer looks at Eden, a question on his face.
Eden Kahar can't help but grin broadly at the enthusiasm, but he echoes Forrest's sentiment aloud. "Aye, behave yourself enough, Moth, and I'll see to it that your master is able to bequeath you with a nice gift."
"Like... a cat?" Moth asks, tilting his head up to look at Eden, a grin quirking his face. His blue eyes twinkle as he turns his attention to Forrest. "The cat would help me learn. It would be warm. And... warmth helps learning," he says, glancing sideways at Forrest.
Wineburn frowns at Moth, a low shade of skin bunching up near his forehead. "Master Moth, may I speak with you for a moment? Excuse us, Lord Kahar."
"Certainly," Eden says, removing his hands from Moth's shoulders and patting the boy on the back, before turning to head to the bar to fetch a drink. His gaze betrays a hint of curiosity when he glances back in their direction, however.
"Eh? Why-- er... okay, Master Wineburn." Moth looks over his shoulder, giving Eden a slight wave before turning back to his teacher. His links his arms in front of him, tilting his head at Forrest.
"Do you know who that man is, child?" Forrest asks, motioning to the Lord Kahar beside the bar.
"He's the Lord Captain," Moth says affirmatively, giving the archivist a nod.
Eden Kahar drinks, oblivious to the conversation.
A low gutteral grunt from Forrest recognizes Moth's response, although it does not affirm it. "Indeed, Master Moth, that is the Lord Captain. But what else is he?"
"Um... he's got a strong grip?" Moth offers, starting to furrow his brow in confusion.
He shakes his head, and takes the boy's shoulders in his long fingers. "He is a Kahar, Master Moth. What does that name mean to you?"
"Kahar..." Moth says, testing the name on his tongue. "Um... that means... dunno." The boy shrugs helplessly under Forrest's hands.
Wineburn stares hard at the boy, increasing the strength of his grip, although only enough for emphasis to the importance of this matter. "He is one of the most powerful men in Fastheld, Master Moth. He can send men to their death, and he has the power of saving their lives. He can sense the slightest doubt, and controls a realm of respect, from people our betters a hundred times over. He is also a Kahar, which means he is steadfast, and honorable. He will give you what he has said, you need not worry. You should properly address him as Lord Captain, or Lord Kahar, and understand that one promises to you that he gives is worth a thousand promises of a common man." Forrest releases his grip, and sighs.
Moth cocks his head at Forrest, silently taking in his words until the man releases him, at which point Moth blinks as though being released from a trance. "Um... but... he wouldn't send me to my death, would he?"
"He could, Master Moth. He could." Forrest smiles and winks at Eden from across the pub. "All the better reason to act with a degree of politeness, when in his company. Although the Lord Captain is a merciful man, he is a ruler, and as such, he must maintain respect. If that respect is tarnished, and others see it, they will not only see you as a threat, but as a traitor. For not all men are merciful, if only a few."
"But... but..." Moth squints, looking back at Eden. He frowns slightly, nods to Forrest, and trudges back to his chair, slumping into the seat and drawing his legs up under him, staring at the table.
With no clue of what they speak of, Eden continues drinking at the bar, striking up a conversation with a local man he recognises nearby. He catches Forrest's wink, and smiles slightly, but does not seem to understand it at all... Not even Moth's mopey reaction.
"Now I want you to be a strong boy, Moth, and go visit the Lord Captain, and apologize to him for pressing a needless matter. The Light shall protect us, even when we are in pain. You need not worry about things that are outside your control, only that which is in your control." Forrest nudges him out of his seat. "Now, go, go."
Moth eyes Forrest, slowly rises, and walks over to Eden. He leans his chin on the counter and looks up at the man, a slight frown twisting his face. "Sorry for pressing a needless matter," he mumbles, then decides to assume a more comfortable position and takes a seat next to Eden at the bar, his bony shoulders slumped and his black hair falling in his face.
Letting his conversation with the other man drift into silence, Eden turns, surprised at the change in Moth's mood. His lips twist into a slight frown, and he glances over at Forrest, before putting his free hand on Moth's back, patting it briefly. "That's alright, young master. You'll find I don't easily change my mind when pressed, regardless." He then looks back up, arching a brow at the archivist.
Forrest Wineburn is busily making notes on a piece of parchment on the table. It appears to be a list, a numbered list, and he is busily scrawling words and sentences beside the list, although his handwriting looks like such a disaster, it is difficult to read.
Moth looks deep in thought, as if trying to formulate his thoughts into words that could form a coherent sentence. He looks up at Eden, sure he has the man's attention before beginning, "I'm sorry if I'm not being 'polite' enough. It's just..." but he trails off, losing his train of thought, or perhaps simply not wanting to share his feelings at this moment.
"You can be honest, boy," Eden says, before shooting the man he had spoken to a glance that sends the fellow off to leave them undisturbed. "I can't afford to get you drunk every time I need to hear the truth from you, after all," he adds with a grin, attempting to lighten the mood a little.
The writer has almost filled half the parchment with nearly illegible writing. He is writing very quickly, and every now and then looks up, over at the two by the bar, and then turns back to his work. The quill in his hand looks like it is being worn down, and dabs of ink spot the table. One of the serving girls comes idly over and wipes the table with mutter on her face.
Moth manages a small smile, and sits up straighter in his seat. He looks around, glancing at Forrest and the list before returning his gaze to Eden. "Nyeh... I forgot what I was gonna say," he says, his mouth stretching into a yawn.
Eden Kahar gives a small grunt, and shifts to hold his glass with both hands. "Very well," he says, regarding the yawn, "Though it looks like you're too tired to ride this night."
As he finishes the last letter, Forrest grins widely, standing up from his seat and exclaiming, "It is finished!" He nearly knocks the chair over, but manages to catch it on it's descent.
"Tired? No I'm just--" but his words are cut off by another large yawn, and he smiles sheepishly. With a start, Moth looks wide-eyed at Forrest and ambles over to him. "What's finished?"
Eden Kahar also looks back at Forrest, but does not echo the question, instead remaining at the bar and quirking an ear to hear Forrest's response.
Proudly placing the parchment on the palm of his hand, Forrest Wineburn proclaims, "This will be the first book of poetry published in Fastheld, under a professional writer and bookseller." He looks at Moth, and whispers to him with a smile, "I'm very proud of you. That was very brave." Raising his voice again, he says, "It is the Maiden Monologues, and will be a glorious thing when put into final form."
Moth furrowsh his brow at the word 'poetry,' but doesn't query as to what Forrest means, instead letting the man speak. As he is praised he nods, one side of his mouth turned up in a grin. "Maiden Monologues..." he says to himself, scratching his head. Yet another yawn escapes his lips, and he stretches his arms briefly.
Finishing off his drink, Eden slips the bartender a coin, and then slowly wanders after the pair, throwing himself down in a seat opposite them, lazy slouch suggesting the soldier has taken over the noble for a moment. "It sounds curious, Master Forrest. An quite a historic undertaking."
"I hope it shall be," Forrest says idly, lost in the moment. He recollects himself a moment later, and staring at the form of Lord Kahar, he says, "You look quite tired, Lord Kahar. If you'd like, I can join you on the way back to the keep. I have some records to check on inside." To Moth, he says nothing, but waits for the Lord's reply.
Moth seats himself in the chair next to Eden and eyes Forrest as he offers to go back to the keep. Tucking his legs up under him, he listens to the conversation, not speaking as another yawn stretches across his face.
"Not tired... At least, not so much as your young attendant," Eden responds as he glances to the still yawning Moth. "I'll be sleeping at the barracks this night, anyway. And if he is still up for it, I will reward the young master's efforts with his first riding lesson... Though I have a feeling the hour is such that he might fall asleep before it can come to that."
Forrest motions to Moth, nudging him. "What do you say, Master Moth? I'll give you the day off tomorrow, and you can get a riding lesson with the Lord Captain, if you're up to it."
Moth looks at Forrest, a grin breaking across his rather drowsy face. "Okay!" he says happily, glad to be exempt from a day's work, but even moreso at the fact that he gets to ride a horse. He runs his grubby fingers through his hair and looks to Eden for approval.
"That sounds like a fair deal," Eden responds, looking between the pair contentedly. "Of course, it'll have to be at the East Aegis Garrison... In case I am needed. But the lands there are open and untamed... Likely better for a first ride than the streets of Vozdhya.
"Excellent!" Forrest clasps his hands. He turns to Moth, and says directly, "Now you need to get some sleep. I'll wake you in the morning and take you to the barracks, where you can join the Lord Captain." He turns to the Lord Kahar. "I hope that is satisfactory, Lord Kahar?"
"Sleep, yeah..." Moth murmurs, his eyes half-lidded with drowsiness. He leans back against the chair, scratching his lean stomach absently
"That is satisfactory," Eden responds, glancing to the increasingly drowsy lad.
"Ok, Master Moth. Let's be off then. Lord Kahar still has some business to attend to, I believe." Forrest stands from his chair, taking the parchment and folding it into a neat square, and then walks to the door of the tavern. He turns back and smiles at Lord Kahar. "Thank you, my Lord. I'm sure Moth will be a most happy boy tomorrow."
Moth rises slowly, turning to Eden before following Forrest. He stretches his arms out and waits-- apparently the boy wants a hug.
It takes a few moments of staring for Eden to work out what it is Moth is requesting, and then a genuine smile slips onto his face... perhaps even slightly embarassed. Though he lets out a few disgruntled noises as he is forced to rise from his slouched position, the Lord Captain is eventually at his full height, and moves so that Moth can throw his arms around his waist in the hug, while he ruffles the lad's hair with a hint of fondness.
"Moth?" Forrest calls out, motioning to the door. "Let's go child. Let go of the nice Captain." He says this with some amusement, and then if in reaction to everything, opens his mouth wide and yawns, stealing a glance outside the open tavern door into the dark square. "Say, it sure is a beautiful night."
And throw his arms Moth does, hugging the man with boyish admiration before scurrying after Forrest, quite ready to go to sleep. "See you tomorrow!" he calls, running a hand through his ruffled hair before exiting the tavern with the archivist.
Eden Kahar watches the pair go in silence, offering a parting wave and a grin, before turning... To fetch himself another drink.
Taking the boy's hand in his own, Forrest leads out of the tavern, speaking in a low voice.. the words, "Congratulations, Master Moth" are heard, but the voices fade as the tavern becomes empty of their presence.