Open Chronicles Atlia Calls for Aid [Noct Yaegir]

[Castro Keane]

A man walked up to them and rather confidently announced that he was here to join the hunt. That was all well and good, so Castro chose not to embarrass him needlessly by pointing out that he was in fact nobody of importance. Actually, of the nobodies of importance as far as rank was concerned, he was probably pretty low on that list too.

“The more the merrier. From the looks of it, this quest is a big one.” he replied, looking over the new arrival. The first thing that caught the monk’s attention was the man’s remarkably white hair, and then his pointed ears. An elf, this fellow was. He was about as well prepared as Castro himself and Uhtred, and his posture hinted a wealth of experience.

Turning away, He watched as Warden Ciradyl spoke, eyes widening a little at the mention of wyverns. Nasty creatures, them. A draconic creature the size of a horse or bigger, the few encounters he had heard of from other hunters sounded like no walk in the park. Young ones, such as those they tasked to find, were rumored to be more dangerous than the elders.

He waited as others were split into teams and felt a bit of relief when Uhtred offered to pair with him. He had not been expressly mentioned by the Warden and was thus unsure how to search for an ally. “Alright. Fine by me, friend. Wait, what?” he said, looking over to the wolf. Just then he heard a small chime in their direction, a look of understanding crossing his features. “Hm. Neat.” He said, yawning a little.

He did not work with much gear, just his monster hunting garb and staff as well as whatever happened to be in his pack at the time, so he was good to go. “Is there anything either of you need before we leave, or shall we simply pick a direction and begin our journey?” He asked, looking over both the direwolf and Uhtred.

Sigrith

 

[Sigrith]

"Just our heading..." Uhtred replied as he waited for the Warden to look their way. But it was not the Warden who provided - instead the Yaegir called Bolton strode over to them, his own armor still stinking of the blood and viscera of his fallen quarry.

"You lot will be right for findin' the nest and the mated pair that made these monsters," he gestured for them to gather around a nearby open table and laid out a folded parchment map of the region. Denoted upon it were the major and minor towns and cities, bodies of water, mountains, portal stone, and other various landmarks.

Darkstride turned to join them, her own immense size allowing her to view the map without any trouble. It was good to get a view of the lands, for she was far less familiar with the Allir Reach than she was with the region of the Spine.

"There've been reports of dragons to the north," Bolton pressed a ruddy finger to the map and a smaller chain of mountains not but a few days ride from Atlia, "in this area. Now I know for a fact there be no dragons in those mountains - they're not big enough to sustain them. But two adult wyverns?" the man nodded, "It would do for them."

"You can't expect us to kill them with just the three...?" Uhtred replied, his youth showing through his concern for the thought.

"Ney lad. We just want you to locate the nest and the parents. Obviously if you get an opportunity to take them down, by all means ... but once the juvies have been handled we'll be sending everyone up to assist. I figure Darkstride's nose aughta track em real easy-like."

The wolf snorted.

"Ye still got that three-eyed raven o' yours, wolf?"

"She does," Uhtred responded for her, "we'll send word once we've located the nest."

"Good," said Bolton, clapping Castro Keane on the back, "ye can keep the map. Happy tracking, ehehehe."

"Right..." Uhtred watched the man walk off, noticing a limp to his gait and a particularly bloody patch of medical gauze wrapped around his right knee. He frowned and stifled a hard swallow, "that's us sorted then. I'll need to load up on arrows. Got yourself a horse, brother? There's probably some free at the stable."

 

[Sagarus]

Before he could stop it, he scoffed, short and sharp. "Yes... 'scented soap.'" It may as well be mockery though he knew full well it was usually the utter lack of intonation that created that perception rather than word choice. This, though, leaned into both. Monroe seemed up for the task.

"I will find a wagon and horse."

While she worked her way to a table of assorted gear, he went outside to a stable where there were a few horses and wagons for transportation stashed around. None were high quality, but they didn't need to be. They wouldn't fall to pieces and they'd get you where you were going. Good enough for him.

Walking around the draft beast to verify the harness was secure, he climbed aboard and let the cart creak it's way around to the front of the keep where he would wait with the patience of a lone, starved wolf waiting on a bear to finish with a carcass.

Her gear was more than he'd anticipated, but the falcon was entirely unexpected. "Make sure we get paid for three hunters." His only concession to manners was extending a hand over to help hoist her into the seat that, with his armor and her weapons, would get quite cramped.

Broad shoulders and bad manners did not an enjoyable ride make. "Maybe Delgada will have soap for you."

 

[Aderyn Verchtegid]

"Unsightly and unworldly? Unfortunately, yes, and it's not a memory I'd particularly like to revisit. I'm not a fan of harming things, and I'm even less a fan of being covered in ichor I've beat out of something. Been in a good share of barfights, too, and I haven't died yet."

Aderyn rubbed absently at one of the crystals around her neck. There was no need to make use of any kind of power but the memory of that godsawful night tugged at her, telling her she wasn't safe and never would be.

"I wouldn't call a wyvern either of those things, though. Very much of this world and beautiful creatures in their own right. It's unfortunate that we find the same places to be habitable. I can help you if needed... I just would prefer not to. If you feel safer with another hunter, then I shan't complain."

She hoped to make him feel more comfortable with the thought of her accompanying him, though he certainly did not look like she could do much to convince him without trying to manipulate him magically. She didn't know him well enough to assume that would be safe, but yet he was more than a simple passerby. He was in that uncomfortable between space where anything she could do might easily have grave consequences.

Arnor Skuldsson

 

[Monroe]

Monroe didn't have the heart to tell the man he had picked a shitbox, especially not after he offered a hand to help her up to sit beside him. Pleasantries and manners, things she could have ignored, but she felt as if this were a test and that Cira would be waiting to hear a report on Monroe's people skills.

"The falcon comes and goes. It is a manifestation of guidance of a Saint I pray to." The falcon was an interesting topic enough that she felt obliged to share. "Always got to have something to fight for." She said, squirming in her seat to find a somewhat comfortable position seated next to his armoured self.

Monroe arched a brow. "Nice suit." She hadn't ever worn one, or had the desire to own one. Cathmore liked being free and lithe, able to move quickly and hoped that she was quicker than a felling blade against her. "Odd, actually." She admitted without tact. "Especially to go after creatures."

Sagarus

 

[Sagarus]

"Ah." Manifestations were certainly within his purview, given his extension study as a conjurer. Part of him immediately wondered if this particular Saint would only respond to faith or if there were other ways to cajole it into offering up a small fraction of its power and attention.

Yet, as soon as though was formed he dissipated it as though waving his hand through a brief upswell of steam.

Settling into the comfort of a hard oak benchseat and the creak and sway of a wagon, he let the packbeast pull them out of the keep before guiding it towards the nearby traderoad. From there they could head south along the coast and pick up the scent.

"Perhaps for you." A wry retort. Lifting a hand from the reins to scratch his chin and the grey flecked stubble on it, he kept his eyes roaming the forward arc of his vision. "Did you attempt to bring this falcon into being or does it just appear."

Perhaps both himself and Monroe could learn something from this besides how to kill a scaleback.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Erën remained silent for a moment after Emmeline spoke to him. He didn't even seem to regard her at all, at least not for a moment. Instead, his eyes tracked across the surround, gauging what it was the others were doing. They were grouping up, and that left he and Emmeline.

He cast her a glance, one of his brows tilting some. He perceived a great gap between them, likely not only in age. Of course, her words had revealed as much. Her experience with wyverns was obviously little. His, however...

He approached the remains of the wyvern and knelt by it, examining it rather passively.

"Two swords are better than one. A shield could help for a time, but soon become cumbersome. The strength of little ones such as these is manageable, but you are right in where you place your concern." he stood back up, and turned back to her, "they can at times seem to move faster than most can catch with their eye."

He looked around once more, and then his eyes fell to her, "lets find out where we're going. I am ready at any time."

Looking at her now, he became curious as to what would possess someone like her to wield such an ungodly large weapon. But then, thinking back, she wouldn't be the first in his experience to do so. And with any luck, like those who had come before, she would do so well. A good, honest strike could very well bring their journey to a quick end.

 

[Monroe]

"Did you attempt to bring this falcon into being or does it just appear."

The falcon had decided to perch on the front of the cart, just shy of Monroe's boots braced against it so that she was more secure in her seat. "It's a Guardian. An animal of the Wyld and it chose me." She snorted, as if in disbelief such a thing could happen but had no other explanation as to why it was here and for her.

"I don't have magic. Glad not to." And if she had, Monroe was not interested in learning to use it either. She was capable as is, her gear enough for solo missions, but she would be loathe to admit she had no real idea on how to work with Sagarus on this endeavor. Perhaps after assessing how he moved, how he worked, she could figure a way to compliment his style.

"Right... which Keep do you belong to? Certainly not Atlia nor Crobhear..." He had an accent that differed from that of what she had traveled in Epressa.

Sagarus

 

[Sagarus]

"Uh huh," he mused, clearly not believing that in the slightest. There was little need to throw his shoulder against that particular door right now. They scarcely knew each other. "It has its uses." To put it mildly. Often, he preferred to go without. Fighting with a sword was tiring enough, let alone casting at the same time.

But eventually, he would need to. His hand went to his tome, simply to make sure it was secure before returning to the reins.

"Stillwater," he answered. "Though I am not always there. I am a Dreadlord, were that not already obvious."

They could wile away the journey south in talk such as this, it didn't much bother him. He already had a plan to entrap the wyvern. Frankly, the hard part was going to be getting there talking to a stranger. At least wyverns he could kill.

"Whispers brought me here." As if that would make sense to her at all.

Monroe

 

[Monroe]

Oh, it had been obvious, but Monroe had hoped it would have been something more interesting. It was rich of her to think such a thing when she hadn't even met a Dreadlord in the past before... well, as in to work with. She crossed paths with many Anirians, but their accents differed, but Monroe didn't meet them for conversation.

"Ahh, Stillwater..." She drew out the name, as if that was all the sense put into place. "Which is better, being a Dreadlord or being a Yaegir?"

Monroe wished she had the time to ask someone back at the Keep when it was perfectly acceptable to not keep up the small talk. She wished she had brought a book, an excuse to pretend to read and disconnect. Her amber eyes fell and lingered on the tome he had brought.

 

[Emmeline Hildebrandt]

He looked around once more, and then his eyes fell to her, "lets find out where we're going. I am ready at any time."

"Too late now, but I suppose that’s something to seek training in as soon as I am able," the warrior murmured, though her words were more for her own sake than to assuage any concerns he might have about her capability or desire to adapt.

"If we encounter one of these, then I am better left to let you distract the creature so that I might effectively lob off its tail."

Despite her seeming lack of knowledge on fighting such creatures, the warrior appeared well enough versed in mitigation. Removing the wyvern’s tail would protect them from its barb. She committed that to her memory.

"Lead the way, I’m far less familiar with this area than you," Emmeline remarked finally, but his thoughtful glance didn’t escape her notice. It was that ability to deduct that kept her moving ever onward in search of her brother and who–or what–killed their parents. A slight smirk toyed with the corner of her mouth.

"Criminals are less likely to fuck with a woman of my stature carrying a blade this large with the ease of a child’s toy," she explained.

 

[Sigrith]

"Ah, you two," the red-haired Warden approached Eren'thiel Xyrdithas and Emmeline Hildebrandt expectantly, "a pair then? The last location of reports is from the town of Ipswitch in the west. If you need a map of the region there's a few left there on the supply station. You'll be wanting horses from the stables if you did not bring your own - Ipswitch is a bit of a hike."




-------- OOC ----------

As a reminder for anyone that isn't sure where they are headed:

• Sagarus and Monroe are taking the juvenile to the south
• Sigrith, Uhtred, and Castro will be tracking down the parents and nest to the north
• Aderyn Verchtegid and Arnor Skuldsson will be capturing the closest juvenile to the east (alive) to harvest venom for making antidote
• Emme and Eren to take the juvenile in the town to the west

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

He smirked. Criminals were just another kind of monster - the most terrible kind, far more complicated than the foes they sought today. Wyverns were simple. Kill, feed, flee.

"Agreed, I will draw its attention. It will have a difficult time catching me."

He was about to do just as she said, take lead, so he turned to look for some direction. Just then, The Warden approached.

"A pair," he replied with a nod.

Ipswitch was not a place he was familiar with, or if he was, he was not familiar with the name. He was familiar with the region, however, just not every nook and cranny.

He regarded the Warden with the respectful bow of his head with his hand set against his chest, saying his thanks and adding, "we'll see it done," then he turned to Emmeline, "I know these lands, but not this place. I will fetch us a map, and meet you at the stable."

 

[Sagarus]

"They are not comparable." He riposted. No further explanation was offered.

Casting a sideways look at Monroe he knew immediately where her eyes had gone. "If it needs used, I suggest hiding." With that, he turned his eyes back to the road and let their wagon rattle it's way down the slope and towards the coast.

--

Sparing her the worry of needing to make small talk, he generally passed the time monitoring for threats and cataloguing the varied beasts, wights, spirits and critters in that tome she'd been eyeing up. At times he felt like a gaoler, roaming the damp stone hall where the holding areas were more cube than cell and yet despite no doors the restless inhabitants still rattled ephemeral hinges.

It was enough to keep him occupied. What she did was up to her.

But, a few days journey would see their cart rounding the bend of an old rockslide and taking in the whitewashed, cubic homes of Delgada where it was sprawled along the coastal trade road like a guide hook for a rope. At first glance there was little amiss, but it took only a moment to pick out spots of black amidst the homes, likely where the wyvern had gotten feisty.

They'd need to get much closer to make that determination. All that was obvious for now was the town was still there, and the fishermen still fished. Even from here he could see nets being cast to sea from the larger trawlers and spotted in amidst the shallows like lice were those checking pots and traps for other game - perhaps crustaceans, though he wasn't a fisherman.

"Real shame." He muttered darkly. "Was hoping it'd be on fire."

 

[Castro Keane]

Castro nodded slightly in agreement and turned his gaze towards Warden Ciradyl, guessing that they would be responsible for assignments. Instead, he was rather pathetically startled by another Yaegir intruding on their chat (if one could even call it that) just behind him.

He turned to witness a man who had clearly just returned from his own hunt, a man beckoning them all over to a table. Castro followed, guessing that he was some kind of senior Yaegir or whatnot assisting the Warden. It seemed that they had been chosen to find the adults responsible for birthing the juveniles…and do what exactly?

Castro guessed they weren’t supposed to kill anything, at least not yet. Fledglings were on average, a decent challenge for a single hunter. Grown ones, such as the type they were being asked to find, were massive and though not as venomous more than made up for it with maturity and skill. He grinned as Bolton confirmed his theory, leaning a bit on his staff as the Yaegir continued.

After Bolton finished speaking, Castro took the quickly offered map and put it into his backpack for the time being. Perhaps not the most accessible place in the world, but it would be safe. He grimaced upon watching Bolton turn, noticing the injury and bandage around his knee. Not great, that.

Castro looked thoughtful for a second. “I think that would be good. Let’s meet by the northern gate once I have a horse.” he replied, keenly aware nobody knew one anothers’ names. Well, just another thing to address on the road.

 

[Monroe]

Monroe was grateful for the silence granted between them, for she decided to get some rest while she had the time. The gentle roll and the occasional bumps in the road eventually pulled Monroe into a light slumber. She would get sleep where she could, and with all the travel she endured to return to Atlia had left no time for rest. A nice soak in the hot springs, a nice, warm bed to sleep in, that was what she had been missing out on now that she was tasked with another new job so soon.

Perhaps there would be more rest to be found once they reached Delgada, but the smell of sea was sharp and unpleasant until by the time they rolled into the sleepy coastal town, her senses were used to the nostalgic scent of her childhood not too far from here.

"Where is the little shit wyvern?" She frowned, as if upset the small fishing community wasn't overrun by it already. There were signs, sure, but Monroe was expecting a tableau more fitting to a 'call for help'.

Sagarus

 

[Emmeline Hildebrandt]

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas walked away after the warden spoke, and in that moment--perhaps almost as a delayed action--she thought more upon the disadvantage she currently faced in regards to her choice of weaponry. It would work for now though, and that was the big issue at hand, pun not intended.

A thin-lipped smile was cast the warden's way, the warrior's brow furrowing slightly and only a slight dip of her chin as indication that she'd acknowledged the other's words. Emmeline knew the chain of command, and given that it had been the warden that gave them their tasks, it was an obvious position of power that the woman wielded.

It was as an after thought that the warrior glanced over her shoulder to the departing elf. A map was definitely useful, considering she'd only heard of the place in conversation and had only a general idea of where it was located. With a shrug, she left the hall and made her way back down the steps to the stable, undoubtedly in search of their steeds.

"Did he even come with a horse?" she wondered under her breath, standing there and watching, waiting. Had he expected her to fetch theirs? Or had she thought too far ahead in the equation? S

 

[Wren]

"Unsightly and unworldly? Unfortunately, yes, and it's not a memory I'd particularly like to revisit. I'm not a fan of harming things, and I'm even less a fan of being covered in ichor I've beat out of something. Been in a good share of barfights, too, and I haven't died yet."

Aderyn rubbed absently at one of the crystals around her neck. There was no need to make use of any kind of power but the memory of that godsawful night tugged at her, telling her she wasn't safe and never would be.

"I wouldn't call a wyvern either of those things, though. Very much of this world and beautiful creatures in their own right. It's unfortunate that we find the same places to be habitable. I can help you if needed... I just would prefer not to. If you feel safer with another hunter, then I shan't complain."

"Don't bother," another voice sounded from the entry of the Keep, "men like him would spend all day questioning you just to save face. They don't know how to ask for help."

The voice belonged to a woman of wheaten hair and battle-battered but well kept trappings. She strode past what appeared to be the last few gathered inside, moving with purpose to the supply table to take up a map, then turned to walk right back out again.

"But I do - you can help me, Sister," Wren met Arnor's gaze with her own of steely hazel as she walked by, "I'll get you your wyvern and I won't ask you a hundred questions to do it."

Before reaching the exit she paused and glanced back to Aderyn Verchtegid, "Whenever you're ready. The sooner we leave, the sooner we'll be done."

And out she went.

 

[Sagarus]

No part of him disagreed with Monroe but he was amused to know they saw this similarly. A burning village would be an easier hunt - it would mean the beast was likely still around. "Must be dropping by for meal time." An educated guess, but given that the burning was only sporadic it seemed to fit.

It's not like the villagers, being fishermen, were encroaching on it's hunting grounds somehow. He wasn't even sure it was old enough to have developed that. Fidgeting with the reins as they followed the winding furrows in the trade road towards it, he narrowed his eyes and frowned, though that meant his face didn't really much change.

"Suppose we'll need to find the... whoever runs this place. Find out when the last time they saw the damn thing was."

 

[Aderyn Verchtegid]

"Don't bother," another voice sounded from the entry of the Keep, "men like him would spend all day questioning you just to save face. They don't know how to ask for help."

The voice belonged to a woman of wheaten hair and battle-battered but well kept trappings. She strode past what appeared to be the last few gathered inside, moving with purpose to the supply table to take up a map, then turned to walk right back out again.

"But I do - you can help me, Sister," Wren met Arnor's gaze with her own of steely hazel as she walked by, "I'll get you your wyvern and I won't ask you a hundred questions to do it."

Before reaching the exit she paused and glanced back to Aderyn Verchtegid, "Whenever you're ready. The sooner we leave, the sooner we'll be done."

And out she went.

Aderyn stood for a second, confused at first over who this woman even was and then over how she spoke. Very blunt, matter of fact, perhaps a little - a lot? - unnecessarily aggressive. But then, she supposed, that wasn't really her problem. She wasn't the target.

She shook herself back into full control and curtsied at Arnor, "It was a pleasure to meet you, I hope to see you out there. Or back here."

Hefting her bag back over her shoulders, she hurried out after Wren, calling out to her, "Slow down for a moment, please, I'm... more laden than you are. Definitely eager to get out and back, though."

Her movements didn't indicate she actually had any trouble with the bulging travel pack, and she was very much used to carrying so much weight even without any powered additions to her strength or speed. But endurance was always another question entirely.

And besides, once they got back, her work would just be starting. Wren, at least, would be able to sleep then.

Wren

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

It only took him a short while to gather up a map, and within moments he was following after Emmeline down the keep's steps. As he approached her, however, it appeared he had something else tucked under his arm as well. He came near and looked her over with the same sort of look he'd given her earlier, and then reached under his arm. From there, the item he grabbed was a sword and scabbard, wrapped in a belt. It was quite short, easily hung from the hip, and admittedly not a lot to look at.

"See what you think of this," he said as he handed it to her, and then looked to the stable, "my horse is just inside."

He departed again, not indicating whether she should stay or follow. In either case it didn't matter, as he was only a few moments retrieving his horse and another from the stable hand, both saddled and ready.

"Let's get moving, unless there is anything else?" he asked as he fixed his belongings, and prepared to hoist himself up.

 

[Sigrith]

NORTHERN GATE

Saddled and ready seemed to be the theme of the day... if you weren't an overgrown direwolf, anyway. Darkstride casually prowled astride the young Uhtred on his horse as they made their way to the northern gate of the keep. With no one else joining them on their assigned mission, it was only Castro Keane they had to wait for, and certainly they did not wait long. Not that it mattered quite as much - at least their quarry wasn't terrorizing the local citizenry.

So far as they were aware.

When the Yaegir appeared on his own steed the trio passed through the open gate and pressed off along the northern road. Darkstride took up the lead with the two young Yaegir riding side by side behind her. She knew the general way of going, but would need to defer to the map-holder once they made it past the foothills where the many local lanes and trade routes converged.

"Name's Uhtred of Crobhear, by the by," Uhtred said to Castro, "and this is Darkstride. She doesn't talk much."

The wolf blinked bemusedly at the concept of her reticence. He did most of the talking for her and was never lacking in the ability to carry a conversation, even if it was with himself.

"Which Keep are you from?" Uhtred asked the other man.

 

[Monroe]

Monroe was much too eager to leave the cart. It was not to get away from Sagarus, but more so the need to stretch her legs and muscles. She spent some time loosening up as she scanned the area, frowning as someone nearby appeared from the door of their home and a basket in tow.

The Yaegir moved, jogging to keep up and wincing at the stiffness in her frame. "Hello, sorry. Sorry? Excuse me!" She plastered a fake smile on to hide the bite in her tone as the woman squinted at her and waited. "Yes, hello. We heard there was a wyvern problem?"

"Here?" She looked confused. Or was it suspicious? It was such an odd look that Monroe began frowning.

"Haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary? Nothing bigger than usual and terrosing the town? The buildings?"

"Not that I know of."

Monroe wanted to say something very unsavoury, but on the chance that Sagarus would report back to Ciradyl, she refrained from sahing what she really wanted to say.

"Thank you for your time, sorry to bother you."

This time, Monroe turned back to Sagarus with a deep scowl. "I'm beginning to not like this place."

 

[Wren]

Aderyn stood for a second, confused at first over who this woman even was and then over how she spoke. Very blunt, matter of fact, perhaps a little - a lot? - unnecessarily aggressive. But then, she supposed, that wasn't really her problem. She wasn't the target.

She shook herself back into full control and curtsied at Arnor, "It was a pleasure to meet you, I hope to see you out there. Or back here."

Hefting her bag back over her shoulders, she hurried out after Wren, calling out to her, "Slow down for a moment, please, I'm... more laden than you are. Definitely eager to get out and back, though."

Her movements didn't indicate she actually had any trouble with the bulging travel pack, and she was very much used to carrying so much weight even without any powered additions to her strength or speed. But endurance was always another question entirely.

And besides, once they got back, her work would just be starting. Wren, at least, would be able to sleep then.

With luck, Aderyn would not need to go far with her heavy burden. Two horses hitched to a long, flat-bed cart awaited just outside the entrance. Wren pulled herself up onto the driving bench of the cart and took up the reins, "You can put your kit on the cart," she nodded back to the various crates and satchels loaded on the front portion and strapped down with rope.

"The Warden of Stillwater wants the beast brought to him alive..." she informed as she waited for the other woman, "after you've got what you need from it."

Once Aderyn was situated, she gave one last look back to the Keep entrance for their potential third, then whisked the reins to send the horses off.

"I'm Wren. You're the Apothecary here?" had to be, Beocca had mentioned red hair.

 

[Aderyn Verchtegid]

"I won't kill it to get what we need so that shouldn't be a problem," Aderyn said.

She shrugged off her pack and hoisted it into the cart before climbing up onto the seat herself with a grimace. Her trip had been long and she had never been a fan of so much sitting. She could feel the color of her aura change sickly and hoped that Wren had no ability to perceive such things. Few people did.

"My name is Aderyn," she responded. "I'm a healer, apothecary, and musician in Alliria. Here, I feel more like a tradesman stocking a warehouse. But yes, I am said to be the keep's apothecary for however long I'm in the area."

She looked at Wren, studying her profile briefly. Wren certainly had a memorable look to her with her disfigurement on one side and near immaculate features on the other. Wren must have been doing this kind of work for quite some time, and without access to a reliable healer. A shame, really, but she was still alive so things could have been worse, Aderyn supposed. "Can I ask where you're from?"