Open Chronicles A Festival of Coins and Crops

[Roan Dorn]

Acteon Cass hadn't been wrong and even though Roan had taken her seriously Míriel Fëanorna had beaten him in dominant fashion. It had been slightly surprising but it was enjoyable nonetheless. The Sellsword had swiped up the coin Acteon had left on the table when he rose to follow Miriel.

* * *

A quick inspection of the gladius he wore over his left hip would reveal it was well cared for. In its sheath the pommel and handle were well maintained, Roan routinely wrapped his hilt in leather for a sturdier hold. If the sword was drawn it would be revealed to be sharp, the blade was oiled and sharpened often so that it was effective whether it was being used to cut or to stab.

When Miriel suggested Roan buy her a drink he'd have responded almost immediately with a smile of his own...

"A good idea. I think there's a tent nearby that serves drinks and food."

...he'd turn his head, scanning the lanes and looking through the crowds that moved around before he saw the tent that was looking for. Moving through the lanes Roan would have lead Miriel to another open air tent where patrons could sit, enjoying food and drink from various local sources. As he came to the tent he'd have called to one of the servers...

"An Ale for myself and for the lady."

...before he found a table, the aroma of various spiced and roasted foods filling the area and his senses while he regarded Miriel closely. Looking at her it was difficult to believe she was a Smith at first glance, she had the lithe frame one came to expect of an Elf but a closer look revealed that she was more muscular than a typical elf. He also admired the tattoos over her left eye. Roan thought she must have gotten more than a few looks, she was easy on the eyes which caused him to try on a bit of charm...

"It's lucky for me we met, I haven't shared a meal with a beautiful woman in awhile nor one quite as strong."

...whether it came off that way or not was dependent on Miriel herself but he'd go on...

"Tell me about the Ixchel Wilds? They're on the other side of the Spine are they not?"

 

[Asel]

The music outside had quieted and the crowd dispersed. Midge seemed a little disappointed, and Asel had hoped that a greater number of them might find their way to her. No matter, the festival would go on for a long time, and she had some particularly eye-catching designs in mind that she could display later.

She had finished polishing the shield and had begun to tend to the forge. The coals were hot, and she fanned the bellows over them to keep them burning bright. The open-air design of the pavillion let most of the heat escape to the outside. This was good for customers, but it consumed more fuel.

Her tools were ready, raw materials in good supply. She looked down at a chest, this one had a large lock on it, for it contained the most precious material: the Wax.

It was the wax that made hiveforged weapons unique. Produced only by members of Asel's species and guarded aggressively, the wax was largely unknown to outsiders. When used in the forging process it conferred a number of traits to the steel, the most notable being improved durability and resistance to wear. It was nearly impossible for them to rust, and they stood up better to temperature extremes than conventional weaponry. The metal was generally less brittle, and if you placed your nose right next to it, it had a pleasant flowery aroma. It was no comparison to a true magical enchantment, but it set Asel's goods above many others.

As her thousands of eyes gazed at the fire, Midge had spotted another potential customer approaching. "You look like a man who knows his way around a rapier, care to take a look at the HiveForge? You won't be disappointed!" She buzzed in erratic, darting movements just a few feet from Acteon.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel gave a slight nod and made a gesture for him to lead the way before following after him. As they walked she wouldn't mind admitting she continued her assessment from this perspective. He clearly had the build and confidence of a soldier who had been in the job for a while and he didn't have the Green look she associated with those new to the profession. His arm was good but as her eyes lingered on the sword she did wonder just how good he was with a blade too; brawling like that and finesse with a sword were two different things. She dragged her gaze from where it lingered when they entered the tent and took a deep breath of the aromas of food then glanced around the a table.

Two other guests were just vacating their seats and Miriel slid into one of them before it could be taken by another of the various groups hovering and looking for a place to drink and eat. As she was doing so she began to chuckle at his words of flattery and folded her arms over the table to lean on it.

"There's plenty of those in Alliria, you're in for a real treat," her eyes sparkled with amusement. Miri wasn't a shy woman and she enjoyed these interactions. As the sever came with her her ale she took it with a thank you and then requested a plate of the roasted hog she could smell then turned her mind to his question about her homelands.

"Yes the Wilds are on the other side of The Spine. I'm from a city called Órënya, it's in the heart of the jungle. It's very hot, humid, and full of things trying to kill you. It makes The Spine look like a children's playground really," not many people knew of The Wilds for that reason - people went in but they rarely came out. It was a different breed of monster over there. "What about you? Your accent sounds familiar but I can't quite place it."

* * *
Roan Dorn
* * *​

 

[Roan Dorn]

He would chuckle briefly hearing her comment, enjoying the banter they shared...

"Alliria seems like it has it all. It'll be a shame to move on but I'll make sure that I come back around."

...especially if the company was this good, Roan had spent much of his time working as protection in one of the taverns near the docks. The Weeping Maiden had even afforded him the opportunity to make the acquaintance of an Easterner. He'd found their interaction somewhat odd, those hailing from the East seemed to have an inherent arrogance about them which came off during their interactions.

Regardless it wasn't important now and as Miriel ordered a plate of roasted hog, the aromas of the food touching his senses again Roan would do likewise. They wouldn't need to wait long for the Ale either. A Server would return with two frothing mugs of their best tap which Roan would pay for alongside the meals ordered with the gold coin that Acteon had placed on the table for him following their match.

"The Wilds sound like an interesting place. I may need to carry on past the Spine to see them for myself."

...he'd admit, raising his mug of ale in his right hand and pressing it to his mouth before drinking slowly. It was good but not as potent as the Dwarven Ale Filn had given him both as thanks and as a sign of kinship shared between the two. When he lowered his mug he would have answered her...

"I come from a small village outside of Vel Anir or at least I did. When I was younger Bandits raided the village, destroying it before the Vel Anir forces could respond."

...his voice had become somewhat tense indicating that the forces of Vel Anir may not have come at all, perhaps they were stretched to thin but there was some resentment there...

"Shortly thereafter I took up the sword and turned to working as a Mercenary. It's reasonable pay depending on the job. If you don't mind my saying you don't just look like someone who deals in Smithing and Horses."

...Roan could sometimes have a keen eye, mostly he could just recognize a person who had some training with weapons. Maybe it was the way Míriel Fëanorna carried herself, the way she moved and her body language or perhaps it was her build which suggested she didn't just swing the hammer in her forge.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel cradled the ale between two hands as she thought on his remark about visiting the Wilds with an obvious look of disbelief on her face. She had not been lying about its dangers and for someone who had not faced The Spine yet, to think about the Wilds as well was a little arrogant. Such was the way with mortal men sometimes, she had learned. She raised the mug and took a sip herself before shaking her head.

"I don't often waste my breath warning people who seek adventure about the dangers in the world, but of the Wilds I would urge you to take caution. People do not very often come back when they cross into the Jungles," even people who lived in it went missing far more frequently then one might thing. Whether he took the warning was down to him. He had a pretty face so she hoped he would. As he went on to talk about his home town however she grimaced a little and set her mug back down.

"Vel Anir isn't exactly friendly to my kind but I would have expected them to have done something about Bandits on their own people," loyalty to the human race seemed to underpin every bit of literature or word out of their mouth she had ever heard. She knew very much where she stood with those people and her trips to the Falwood were more uncomfortable because of it. "But I can understand how something like that makes a person want to learn to defend themselves." Having ones own home attacked when it is a place that is meant to feel safe... well. It did things to a person. As the conversation turned to her however and at his astute observation she laughed into her mug.

"I'm not sure if that is a compliment or an insult," she winced a little as the bitter taste of the ale hit the back of her throat after a particularly large gulp. "My people are a warrior clan of elves, the women are all trained to fight and specialise in a certain skill. I'm a member of the Cavalry," she motioned to her tattoos. "I left after my first century to go travel the world and learn new things and here I am. The Forge life suits me for now."

 

[Roan Dorn]

He took her advice seriously. Roan wasn't a young man, many of the Mercenaries he met on the road were several years his junior however Miriel obviously had experience with what she was talking about so he took it for what it was, valuable information. Nodding his head once Roan considered what she said about the Wilds. It was true he had spent much of his career fighting around Vel Anir, the Falwood, Cortos and the occasional expedition into the edge of Amol-Kalit but his knowledge of the Spine and especially what was beyond was limited.

When he noticed her grimace Roan seemed apologetic though, listening to her before explaining...

"The Villages around Vel Anir have my loyalty, the city itself does not. The Dreadlords are more concerned with themselves than the people as are the noble houses. I would welcome a change, not that it would happen in my lifetime."

...he seemed to lament the idea, change would only occur in Vel Anir after great bloodshed but sometimes it was necessary for the greater good. Then he smiled hearing her laugh into her mug before he took a drink of his own ale...

"A compliment, I assure you Miriel."

...he might add that she much better looking than he expected someone who worked at a Forge to be but Roan shut his mouth and listened to her instead. When she mentioned that she was trained for the Cavalry he laughed, not at her but at something which struck his sensibilities that he would explain in kind...

"You seem well known here so I can only imagine that business and life are good. Forgive my laughter as well, I once tried to learn the art of horsemanship. To my credit I can ride though not exceptionally well. The only place in the Cavalry for me would be on my back, being drug behind my mount. I would look for a riding lesson though I doubt it would help."

...in the saddle Roan tended to hold the reigns tightly and hope for the best. If, somewhere along the way he was bucked or fell off his horse all the better because he would probably have done better on his feet anyways. There was a bit more laughter at his own expense before the aroma of food found him again and the plates of Roast Hog that were ordered were delivered by a server...

"Smells delicious."

Míriel Fëanorna

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

When he spoke more on Vel Anir and the politics there she hesitated and then nodded. In truth, what he said did not sound much different to what many of the people who hailed from there and passed through Alliria said. Though of course that could be down to the fact those loyal to the city and its king would not be people likely to leave its borders unless on a mission to expand them or wipe out cultures they saw as pests. She thought about responding but instead let it drop. Politics was not a conversation she entered lightly and whilst it might not change in his lifetime in a blink of her own it might do. By the time she finally drew her last breath Vel Anir might be nothing more than a footnote in the annuals of history.

His laughter was a welcome distraction from such thoughts though, as was his own admission to his lack of skill in the area. The image he painted was a humorous one and she couldn't help but carry on the laughter when his died away. A horses back was more natural to her than her feet on the ground so it was always an odd notion for her when others confided they couldn't ride, though it was common enough it was not a surprise to hear.

"So it won't be a horse you'll be buying from me to, noted," Miri raised the mug to her lips and took a sip then let it hover there as she continued. "I would agree with you but my sisters have found many uses for men on their back in the Cavalry." As the food arrived she smile to the server and then set her mug down and turned her attention to the food instead.

"Allirian food is very plain compared to what I'm used to, but they do know how to roast meat," Miri conceded.

 

[Roan Dorn]

"No."

...his laughter had turned into a residual chuckle...

"Afraid buying a horse from you would be wasted on me. I have one, of course. An older mount that doesn't mind when I set up on her."

...he'd kept his horse through her twilight years, she could walk and trot but beyond that Roan didn't much care to see her in a gallop and the horse was just as pleased not to show him. When talk moved to how her sisters in the cavalry had many uses for men on their backs Roan offered what appeared to be a wry grin...

"I might like to learn more about that."

...there was a certain amount of innuendo in his tone, Roan could picture many ways a woman might use a man on his back but then as their plates arrive he'd take some of the roast meat and begin to eat the same as Miriel. He'd find she was correct, Allirians did know how to roast well though every village seemed to have its own expert when it came to cooking over a fire. Swallowing a mouthful he'd have asked...

"A lot of exotic spices in the Wilds?"

...things they don't see here often he'd imagine but that brought to mind something else...

"Have you been to the docks recently? A small fleet of boats called Junks made habor recently crewed by men identifying as Easterners. I met a man who claimed the ships were his and that he'd come to ply his wares from their lands. Rice alcohol and other things. Maybe some spices that will help liven up the cooking around here."

...it was something to consider anyways though Roan was left largely indifferent towards the man he had met it had been educational, even his sword had been exotic and left Roan a tad curious about the culture across the sea.

Míriel Fëanorna

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel chucked at his comment on learning the ways of Cavalry as she ate but said no more on the topic. It was meeting with people like this that convinced the young elf that many of her Sisters would enjoy Alliria at least but it was hard to convince her people to stray far from their home even if wandering was encouraged. Instead she nodded in answer to his question about spices in the wilds and licked some of the juices from her fingers.

"Mm," she thought how best to describe them. "The Jungles provide a lot of unique herbs and spices if you're brave enough to venture for them. Some very good poisons too - they're often what people tend to risk life and limb for. There is one plant that is tasteless when crushed into food but it can kill a man in under 30 seconds," she popped a bit of crackling in her mouth and closed her eyes briefly to enjoy the flavour before continuing. "But we have a lot of hot peppers and things we use in our dishes."

She raised a brow at his mention of an Easterner in Alliria. News drifted in and out of the forge but usually in relation to upcoming missions rather than traders. People didn't often go past the Spine and it was unusual for people beyond the sea to travel this way. Perhaps it warranted a trip to the docks soon, especially if they could give her a small taste of home.

"From Sheketh or further?"

 

[Roan Dorn]

It didn't surprise Roan to learn that in the Jungles of the Wilds they had many plants that could be used as spices but that there were also a variety that had other uses such as poison. He'd heard Assassins often used elaborate poisons though he'd never dealt with their kind personally, Roan's experience only extended to the occasional knifeman that was on the amatuer end of the spectrum.

When conversation turned fully to the Easterners he had mentioned Roan would have replied...

"Further than Sheketh. The man I met was accompanied by an entourage of armed men dressed in ornate but functional armor, his complexion was tan and different than what one from Sheketh would look like. You would know what I meant if you saw one of them."

...it was difficult to explain the Easterners to Miriel seeing as how Roan had only ever encountered them once but saying she would know them to see them was not an understatement seeing as how their appearance cause them to stand apart from the norm.

Drinking from his mug of ale and helping himself to more of the roast hog Roan enjoyed the simple act of enjoying food and drink with another person. The social aspect to it may have made the food all that much more enjoyable.

Looking up at Miriel he'd go on to say upon remembering...

"If they had enough cargo stockpiled in their ships the man also mentioned the fleet might sail up the Allirian Straight. I think this was the first western city he'd visited."

...if nothing else Roan could only imagine this meant that more of the Easterners would arrive on the shores of Epressa and Liadain. Doubtful he would see many of them though unless they ventured far inland, Roan didn't know of many coastal cities were he was destined.

Míriel Fëanorna

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel had seen no maps that went beyond that isle and it piqued her interest to know that they were not only in Alliria but had clearly known about them, even if they had not known about them. She chewed on her food and kept her gaze on him as he spoke, making a note about where he mentioned he had seen them. If they were still in Alliria then she would definitely be sure to seek them about before they moved on with their travels. Thorlion was a fast horse but she doubted she would be able to out run a ship unless it planned to stop at nearly every port from here to Elbion.

"I wonder what's made them sale this far out. I've never heard of an Easterner coming to Alliria and I've been around for nearly 300 years," there was a hint of amusement to her tone and then she shook her head. Perhaps there were troubles in the East and that was what had forced them to seek trade elsewhere. Or, it could be that this one was just overly ambitious and drunk on the idea of adventures.

Miri licked at her fingers and then reached for her ale, raised it to her lips and took a long drink from it before wiping her mouth after.

"So you're heading to The Spine for... coin," she quirked a brow as if to demonstrate she thought this was also a reckless idea then continued. "Are you at least travelling with a party or are you going solo?"