Open Chronicles Curses

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“ Shit! “

A hiss, immediately followed by a wooden clatter, something heavy playing the yet exposed roof slats like a xylophone. The noise ended into a thunk and shift of dry grass, but neither was loud enough to announce a person having fallen. Aarno merely glanced past his shoulder, getting an eyeful of a squire’s irritated huffing.

“ What was that racket? “
“ Dropped my— “ She started, scratching at her short hair by the ear. “ The fucking mallet. “
“ Then go pick it up. “ He spoke the obvious, unable to stop himself. It had been like this since morning, which had begun fouling his mood in turn.

“ And don’t curse. It’ll leave an imprint on the work. “ He requested, tracing as the girl inched downwards towards the ladder like some crab fresh out of the water.

“ Whatever does that even mean. Sounds like— “ Came the comment, just as snappy and baring fangs as all the rest of the things she’d thought to say today. Visible on the other side of the roof’s ridge was her sibling, who’d now stopped hammering. He met eyes with them in passing, acknowledging.

“ Whole lot of bullshit. “

At that, he straightened to sit up on his haunches, the slats creaking pointedly beneath him. The squire whom inspired it glared back at him from beneath her brow, which was met in kind.

“ Don’t bother climbing back. You’re dismissed. “
“ I thought you needed help. “ She retorted, tossing a hand as she took the first step down on the ladder.
“ I did. And I do. “ He responded, sharp teeth flashing in a barely contained snarl as he grabbed another peeled tree shoot from a bundle. Saying nothing more, movements forceful, he secured another intersection of slats together.

“ You staying? “ The squire’s question was in a gentler tone, if with an air of disappointment. Past a strand of loose hair, he watched the sibling merely shake their head to it, digging in the pouch around their neck for another wooden knob to secure the surface poles with.

“ Suit yourself. “

With that, Gods be praised, the girl was gone. When the footsteps were no longer audible beneath the hammering, he rose at last to glance at the distance. The pale sunlight of the midday glared down, forcing one to squint for which he could already feel a sprouting headache.

“ Break? “ It was more an announcement than a suggestion, as he was already on his way down. The remaining squire wouldn’t budge, watching him silently as he turned on the ladder to face them.

“ No? “ He asked, brows raising. The answer was given in a gesture that indicated their side of the roof.

“ Fine. Secure the ones you already have. Then — “ Serious, he rose his index. “ Down. We’ll need to fetch lunch. “

A firm nod was all he’d get, before the squire went right back into their task. A little taken aback, he bit the inside of his cheek, lingering in his place.

“ Good work so far. “ He added belatedly, reanimating to go down the ladder with some haste.

“ And don’t you dare fall. “
 
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Hungry thoughts carried Petra down the stairs and across the Monastery to the lower wing that held the kitchens and what few servants’ quarters they had.

The rich aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries reached her first, blossoming a growl of protest from her empty stomach. Because nobody cooked like Louretta. The woman was a force to be reckoned with when she had a whisk in hand. Not to mention the woman was no small-time pyromancer, a follower of the Pursuit of Flame, therefore being more than capable of keeping the large brick hearths of the Monastery's kitchens burning hot at all hours of the day.

Her smile blossomed with tender memories of the countless nights she had spent in the womb of that room, decompressing after a hard mission out within the Vale. Lourette made sure that she and whoever came limping through her doors was accompanied by a rich bowl of rejuvenating stew and fresh loaves of sourdough; all wrapped in the comforting warmth of the hearths, a place of safety and rest.

She was lost in thought when the muffled workings of the kitchens grew loud enough to pull her back to the present, each step closer to the large swinging double doors until Petra pushed past them, breaking the bubble of sound the doors contained.

Immediately she was swallowed in a sea of bodies, every person having a place to be and not enough time to get there. She almost collided with a frantic squire who expertly ducked around with practiced ease, steadying the bin of vegetables Petra almost knocked out of her hands, the girl threw a chastising glare back at her before being swallowed again by the bustling staff of the kitchen.

From the other side of the room, she heard an assertive voice calling her name.

Laughing with no small amount of relief, Petra turned towards the back door of the kitchen and started making her way through the chaos.

However upon hearing her name shouted across the room, many of the staff stopped what they were doing to stare at her.

“Oh none of THAT. The lass already has too big of a head for her own good as a Knight. Back to work everyone, I do not have the patience today to ask twice.” The room began to warm by several degrees with Louretta’s ire, and in response to her shouting the staff spurred back into action, reminding Petra of a hive of worker bees.

And honey is exactly what came to mind when Louretta finally came into view and the woman looked at her with amber eyes that held twinkling wry amusement. She was not a tall woman, especially in comparison with Petra’s own towering figure, but Louretta wasn’t a diminutive person either. The woman was stout with strong arms made from years of rolling dough and scrubbing pots. Her dark dreaded locks were piled high into a haphazard top bun, with no small amount of beads and metal clasps strewn about to make a crown atop her head.

The irony was not lost on Petra, as Louretta was nothing short of a queen of the underbelly of the Monastery’s workings. Her word was law and her fist like iron. But those who knew her, knew her to always be ready with a kind word and warm pastry after a well-deserved scolding. There was her trademark white flour dusted up to her elbows with speckles of it peppering her plump cheek, in stark contrast to the rich ichor of her skin.

“Good morning, Darthinian. I was worried you’d leave my tarts and meat pies to cool while they waited for you. Glad to see you decided to join us for breakfast.”

Dryly, the elf quipped back, “Ah yes, silly me. To think of the tragedy that would have followed should I have rolled out of bed at high noon. You’d think after all this time, I would have my shit together Lou, but it seems I have so much left to learn about duty.”

She smirked as Lou threw her head back and cackled, the only concession of her teasing that Petra would receive.

They chatted idly for a minute more. But Petra was always eager to go flying on days as beautiful as this one. So with final goodbyes, a packed bag, and a promise to Lou to pass her goodwill to her dragon, she exited out the side door. The song-weaving Knight making haste towards the Astenvale training grounds to meet Norvyk, her bag of excess tarts and pastries in tow.

But as she strutted through the grounds and past a ladder, Petra heard voices speaking above her. And she halted in confusion, her golden eyes turned upwards to the sky—nay, the roof, where she squinted to make out the shapes of people approaching the ladder to presumably descend. Her curiosity piqued, she stepped closer to wait for them on more level ground.

Aarno
 
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Bullshit.

For the way down, he wasn’t entirely present. The mallet was beating down somewhere above, but he barely heard it over his own muttering, the squire’s defiant face staring back at him all over again. The lot of select words he could’ve leveled at it a mere moment ago occurred, as did that perhaps he should’ve said nothing. But what would’ve become of that, then.

Another, perhaps several insufferable hours. It’d ruin whatever joy there’d be to take on the work itself.

Equal parts rekindled anger and affirmed determination, he landed with an amount of spirit on the ground. In yet lingering thought he inspected the eaves above, like one expecting something to fall, and whipped around. There was a person there, unprecedented, which stopped him dead.

In a steadying motion his hand went out, tips of fingers brushing the side of their shoulder. He recognized her then, coming to.

“ Oh — Darthinian. “ He remarked, brows raised with surprise and tone apologetic. “ Didn’t see you— standing there. “ Or standing around, rather. And to what function? A thought barged in as he looked at her, head keeling.

“ You didn’t get hit by anything falling down, did you? “ For effect, he glanced about. To no grand surprise, he found that the departed squire hadn’t bothered to retrieve what they should’ve. A wooden handle stuck out the brush some steps away.

“ One of the squires was in a habit of— “ He reanimated and weaved past her, hand asling as he picked the mallet up with some vigour.

“ Dropping their tools. “

Petra Darthinian
 
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A grin split her lips, a tone of mischief entering her voice. "I think you'd be apt to agree that it would take more than a mere mallet to knock some sense into me, Aarno."

Her eyes followed his stooped movement and she adjusted her pack to rest against one hip while her scaled hand shadowed her brow against the sun when she looked up to inspect the eaves the Knight had been looking at. "You know, for an Order that fights against all the horrors of this world that threaten the Vale, both mortal and otherwise. It amuses me to no end that as such paragons of valor, we still find ourselves just like everyone else. Fighting the whims of teenagers and the leaking of roofs." The elf dropped her head to address Aarno with a fanged smile.

Aarno
 
He hummed at her jest, wood and metal clattering as he returned the mallet into the tool box they’d set in the shade, on a bench next to the hewn stone wall. From beside it, he picked up one of the pitchers of water and drained straight from it like any old tankard. As she spoke, he had the time to savor a couple good mouthfuls, concluding into a hard swallow and a grunt of recognition.

It wasn’t in agreement entirely, for he couldn’t have claimed ever thinking himself unlike everyone else. There were tribulations universal, the things she mentioned much among them. He’d like to think no matter what, he’d always have more in common with any which peasant than not. Paragons of valor — now that, he could snicker at with some genuine amusement.

At her smile, he flashed a shark’s grin and strode back into the light.

“ The weather be a force that affects us universal. No mountain, let alone building withstands it in perpetuity, but we do our best to maintain the latter here. “ He halted to stand next to the ladder, resting a hand on one of the steps. Pausing for a swig, he regarded her with a narrowed look.

“ You’ve packed. “ A nod at the bag on her shoulder. “ Heading out somewhere? “

Another — adventure?


Petra Darthinian
 
Enjoying her soft chuckle at his comment, she came back to it with a soft look of surprise at her pack. As if forgetting she even had it to begin with.

"Oh! Yes! I was going out to meet Norvyk and spend the day flying to some of our favorite spots, maybe have a good swim in one of the meadowed lakes where all the lurches are changing color with the season." Her excitement bled through, for a day spent in the sky was a day well spent in her opinion. Yet her brow twitched when she noticed the sweat that beaded Aarno's brow, his obvious thirst racketed from a morning spent in labor.

"Ya know, I brought more than enough food. A few snacks for Norvyk actually. Not that the beast needs Louretta's meat pies to survive." She felt an indignant ping of awareness from the mind of her dragon as he registered the comment. Ignoring it, she nodded to the bench meanfully. "But I imagine you do." A hesitant smile. "In fact, I insist. Share my lunch with me then?"

Aarno
 
The enthusiasm in her tone as she spoke of the scenery was endearing, something to relate to. It was enough to maintain his pleasant expression, one that oft remained elusive at best and entirely absent at worst, no matter his actual disposition.

“ Sounds wonderful. “ He remarked, sincere if uncreative, painfully aware that doom be upon the longevity of their brief exchange. Head bobbing idly, he let the pause fall, half expecting that Darthinian would yet hasten to make good on her exquisite day plans.

The surprise upon him was genuine as she did not. Like a man hard of hearing he frowned with confusion and concentration both as she begun again, pivoting the subject entire. The expression fell away as she revealed her meaning, settling to pleasant surprise.

“ Oh. “ A little taken aback, he brushed a strand of hair behind his ear in an entirely needless motion. Had that been — timidness in her smile? Had she truly entertained such a thought that he would’ve refused?

Preposterous. Nigh offensive, even. He might’ve been a knight, but one that knew all too well what was good. Not for a second had there been a need for her to insist.

“ You’ve imagined correct. And the offer is much appreciated, believe you me. “ Saves me the trouble of walking over to the kitchens. “ It isn’t just me though, so— I hope more than enough was generously meant. “ With some new spirit, he sprung to a straighter posture, rattling the ladder a little.

“ Joona! “ He called up at the roof. The following pause in hammering signified attention, prompting him to continue. “ Down, now. The good Darthinian is here with lunch. “

He held onto the ladder to steady it as the squire made it towards the edge of the roof, movement swift, but not as much so that he’d felt the need to discourage it. With Joona beginning their descent, he spared a glance and a wider, satisfied smile at the dragon rider.

“ Or rather, sharing hers. For which we’ll be quite grateful. “

Petra Darthinian
 
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Humbly, she tried to return Aarno's gratitude with grace. But instead, a warm flush blossomed across Petra's cheeks at his praise and she forced her attention to Joona's descending form as she walked towards the bench and called to Aarno over her shoulder.

"Lou packed me a little bit of everything. She loves that damn dragon for some reason, and I have a feeling it's because he's an incorrigible flirt when it comes to sweets and the cook can never turn down a compliment." Setting her pack down on the bench, she carefully unraveled the linen wrap inside to reveal a tantalizing assortment of pastries, both sweet and savory. The pastries glistened in the dappled sunlight, their golden crusts and vibrant fillings inviting hungry gazes.

Her brows shot up the more she unpacked. For there were savory meat pies, each with a flaky, golden crust that crumbled at the touch, releasing a mouthwatering aroma of seasoned meat and vegetables. Under them were a few delicate fruit tarts that offered a sweet contrast, their colorful fruits arranged in an artful pattern atop a light, buttery pastry base.

But it was the palmiers that stole the show, their delicate, heart-shaped layers of puff pastry forming a delicate lacework of sweetness. The marzipan roses stood like edible jewels, their intricate petals almost too beautiful to eat.

"Uhm..." The elf began with a bemused expression, hands on her hips as she stared at the spread incredulously. "It would seem there's more than enough for all of us, especially considering this was befit as a dragon's snack. Please, help yourselves." Again, that indignant flare from the other side of her bond. She could have sworn she heard a pouty sigh accompanying the thoughts in her head.

Aarno
 
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Once the squire had safely connected with the ground Aarno reanimated at haste, closing the distance to their shared company. Weaving around the elven woman, he put the pitcher down, snapped the lid on the large toolbox and lifted it off the bench to make room, lowering it on the ground instead. It’d make a fair enough seat for whoever was the fastest to claim it.

Joona didn’t appear to inclined to do so, taking their time unclasping the toolbelt off their waist and leaving it hanging off the ladder. The length of grey cloth they’d wrapped around their shoulders for warmth came off next, folded into a meticulous square. This they set on the ground to sit on just as Darthinian spoke again.

Having been unwilling to intervene further on her task of setting out their makeshift table as it were, Aarno had resulted to just hovering, hands lazily on his hips as he watched.

“ Well — hopefully Norvyk won’t be too upset with us that we should’ve reduced the bounty of his ‘snack’. I’d hate to end up on the bad side of a dragon. “ At her urging, he looked to the squire and jerked his head firmly, which was heeded without delay. Joona’s face was an image of one overwhelmed with choice as the squire stared down at the different kinds of pastry, hand nervous as it brushed through a cloud of curls.

“ You can take one of each if you like. We aren’t rationing, presently. “ Aarno muttered, catching their eye. It was enough to spur the squire back into enthusiastic action, ending them on their arse in the ground with one carefully picked pastry in no time at all. Golden flakes peppered the ground before them as they bit into it, face going slack with concentration for a fragment of a second. The expression was quick done away as the flavour hit them.

In a little growl more belongst to goblinoids than the entirely human, Joona kicked their legs and lowered to lay their back on the ground, uncaring for the dust. Aarno gave a snort at the exaggerated display, reaching to pick out one of the pastries in turn.

“ Good? “

In response was provided but an affirmative hum.

Petra Darthinian
 
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“ Well — hopefully Norvyk won’t be too upset with us that we should’ve reduced the bounty of his ‘snack’. I’d hate to end up on the bad side of a dragon. “
There was a hissing affirmation from across her bond at the orc's comment and it sent her cackling.
"Aye, a touchy dragon he may be. But I can assure you, that at the end of the day," A trickster's grin, "my bite will be a touch more fearsome."

After her impromptu guests grabbed their first serving of lunch, she helped herself to dessert first and snatched one of the lavender-flavored palmiers. The grassy knoll that they stood on seemed more than inviting with its scattered pepperings of budding chamomile flowers and dandelions. So she plopped down on her back and crossed her legs at the ankles, one arm nestled behind her head as she took a savage bite of her treat, closing her eyes and humming in gluttonous contentment.

Peaking through dark lashes, she addressed the squire the moment his mouth was too full to answer politely, "So, Joona, was it? How goes your work under the admirable tutelage of our good Knight, Syr Aarno?" Her brows arched in mockery as she blatantly refused to look at the stone mason in her playfulness.

For she found nothing broke the ice and paved the way for better camaraderie quite like employing her favorite game of, ye' old shit pot stirring.

Taking another bite of her dessert, Petra continued, "What if I even pinky promise to keep what you tell me a secret?" She couldn't stop a wicked smile from curling the edges of her full mouth, Aarno himself standing in her periphery as she lifted up the raised pinky of her scaled arm, black talon and all.

"I'll even give you a monstrous pinky promise, tempting, I know." She laughed to herself, stuffing the rest of the palmier into her mouth to hide the subtle bite of bitterness she let slip.
 
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While the two had quickly taken to the ground, appearing to be lounging with as much worry in the world as a pair of sheep on a summer’s meadow, he remained standing. Or rather, pacing, his steps slow and idle as he took his merry time with the pastry.

It was too damn good for devouring without abandon. That much he’d chosen. Thankfully, his company needed him none for entertainment, come manifest as Petra took to exchange with the squire in turn. The youngster communicated with a nod to confirm their name, tapping some flakes of pastry off the side of their mouth.

How goes?


He was regarded with a mischievous glance, Joona’s hand flat in the air and waving a so-so gesture. Aarno granted them naught but a shake of the head for this, exaggerating his disappointment and hurt in a huff that pried a little snickering sound out of the squire. Picking out another pastry, he finally stilled, head inclining back as he pretended to enjoy the sun in stead of their collaborative teasing.

The mention of a monstrous pinky promise delighted Joona to no end, face a perfect mix of wonder and anticipation as their eyes fell upon the talons. Another nod was given, curls bouncing, and they stuffed the rest of the pastry in their mouth whole. Chewing, they picked out a small wax tablet from the pocket of their tunic, clicking it open and taking the stylus to the left hand side.

To save space, they simplified the suggestion to two words, which were presented to Petra as they flipped the tablet around.

Trade? Secrets.


Petra Darthinian
 
Sitting up, a delighted laugh left her throat after reading Joona's message. Idly, she traced the words, looking past their tablet and directly at them, eager mischief sparking in Petra's gilded appraisal.

She leaned forward and whispered, "What if I told you I was over one hundred years old?" She rested her forearms casually on her bent knees. "I know more secrets than you can shake a stick at. And better yet, not all of them are even mine." She paused, for dramatic effect.
"But!" Eyes widened comically as her voice returned to normal. "A wise woman once told me, 'Sometimes, even the strangest of sources can fill your cup with the sweetest nectar.'"

A beat later and the elf stuck her scaled hand out between them, "So you've got yourself a deal."

Aarno
 
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The mention of a bounty of secrets was nothing short of exciting. In their conspiratorial little huddle on the ground, Joona was grinning, hiding half of it behind a fan of fingers. As the elf struck out her hand in conclusion, the squire first bumped knuckles, then hooking pinkies. A nod was given, resolute, teeth flashing in a wider smile.

The kid went back into the tablet, posture bowed like for sheltering the letters the stylus scratched on the wax. There was no need really, as the only one not involved in the deal was currently making sure to not even look their way, let alone crane his neck at their secrets. But pretending like it wasn’t so was half the fun.

A quick cursory glance at Aarno cleared the way for flipping the tablet. Wood clattered, Joona’s look secretive as it settled to regard Petra in turn, watchful of her expression.

‘ We’ve puppies in a little shed next to the stables. Three. White with brown spots. We haven’t told anyone. ‘

Petra Darthinian