Private Tales Flowers On the Ground

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Perrine Urahil

i CaN hEaL hIm !
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Now, Perrine was not one to be dramatic, but she was sure that the crowds today were larger and busier than yesterday. It was the day after the tournament, and Alliria seemed to be filled with people milling about the streets. She was thankful for her tall stature, for it became hard to pinpoint where one might be when so many bodies crowded the streets and shopfronts. Even market stalls were fierce competition, and she was glad to have done all the shopping she wanted the day prior when most of the city were distracted by the many events taking place.

Really, she only wanted to purchase one thing before heading home to Vel Anir. Sweets that she could share with her cousins, her sweetheart, and mostly for herself. Navigating these streets only slowed her down, but she also was not in a terrible rush either. Despite the crowd, it felt nice to feel the rhythm of Alliria in the diversity of their people. The ones that call the city and surrounds home, the visitors that come from all over staying for a time or calling it their new home. Perrine never had seen so many come from all walks of life and culture, but she was one of few Anirians that enjoyed this. There was much to learn from other races and cultures, and definitely more to learn about different ways of healing or biomanipulation like she had been born to wield.

On her aimless walk of the streets, she had spotted a few apothecaries that caught her curiosity, and decided it was worth a browse before she ended up at the confectioner's shop.
 
The apothecary's apprentice was taking a long time with his order. Vilen didn't recognize the rosy-cheeked dwarven woman behind the counter, so he figured her to be new. That suited him just fine - it was hot and ocean-muggy outside, and though the day was crowded there wasn't much coin changing hands. Folks tended to get frugal right after a festival.

Elbows on the counter, head propped up in his hands, Vilen watched as the woman dragged her step-stool from one drawer to the other, gathering herbs as she went. His expression was bored, but his eyes tracked the apprentice's movements with guarded care.

The ringing of the shop's bell pulled both his attention and the apprentice's.

"Welcome in," she sang out, not actually looking at who had entered. The girl was struggling with a large jar of calendula blossoms on the top shelf. Stretched as tall as she could go, her hands gingerly nudged it off the edge, muscles tensed in anticipation of the drop of weight. "I'll be with you in just a moment!"

Vilen, however, was looking. He pushed himself up off the counter, and stood a little straighter.

"Ah, it's the nameless Miss from the other day,"
he greeted her. The smile Vilen gave was unrepentant. He may have even forgotten that he'd robbed the woman. "Enjoying your tour of Alliria?"

Perrine Urahil
 
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Recognition and delight brightened the face of the Anirian woman.

"Yes, quite! Especially when I learned how best to steer clear from bards." Her grin was wide, welcoming. She assured the apprentice she not need to hurry to help her, that she was fine to browse for the moment. It also allowed Perrine to linger by the stranger that had helped her escape the bard from that day in the market.

"Alliria has always welcomed me every time I visit. Never quite the same each visit too, which I would be concerned of for anyone else."

Another smile, and the Anirian wandered a little closer in order to offer a gloved hand. "Perrine Urahil. Nameless no longer am I to you."

Vilen Blackhart
 
His smile peeled away into a chuckle, a rough but warm sound.

"And here I didn't even have to sing for it. What a steal," Vilen responded, taking the woman's offered hand. There were no gloves to cover up his clawed grasp. Raising his other hand in plain view, he waggled his fingers - a playful salute amongst rogues that indicated amity. "Vilen Blackhart, or Vee if you don't like the sound of that."

Behind the counter, the apothecary's apprentice sucked in a panicked breath of air. The heavy jar tipped too far backwards above her head. Weight shifted the wrong direction, and in the slow way of everyday catastrophes, the young dwarf lost her balance.

Down tumbled the glass jar heavy with flowers, and down too came the apprentice girl, aimed to land hard against the shop of the floor.

Perrine Urahil
 
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It was refreshing to be reminded just how quick she could move, as taught and honed in her primitive years at the Academy. The Dreadlord was there, able to catch the apprentice in time before any real damage could happen. Water and glass littered the floor, but it might as well be crumbs to the Healer, for she had seen worse accidents in her career.

"Oh... you must have been cut by glass." Righting the girl, Perrine could see blood blooming below her right knee. "Hm. This will take only a second."

Perrine gave Vilen, Vee, a quick and kind smile before taking off one glove and taking the hand of the apprentice.

"Just a light shiver you will feel and you will know that is my magic doing it's work." The pretty blonde smiled, reassuring. "That would have been a nasty slice. Would have scarred if left untreated for some time... but there, all done!"

She stood, back to her full height, and now properly regarded Vilen once more. "There better be no more singing. I think I am exhausted of songs and the lute." Perrine chuckled.

Vilen Blackhart
 
Vilen flinched at the sound of the glass breaking, dodging backwards away from the counter. His reaction time did nothing to help the situation, except to save him from splashed with the tincture. His nose wrinkled up at the smell of what must've been oxymel used to preserve the herbs - vinegar and alcohol. The ladies seemed only a little hurt, but Vilen was absorbed by his own woes, and didn't notice either way.

"What a mess! Boss said she needed calendula to make the medicine... is there a substitute?" He thought out loud as he side-stepped around the broken glass. Memories churned slow through him, lessons at the monastery half-learned. "Gods-rot I'm not good at this. Nevermind, let's clean up first. There's a broom in the back, right?"

No one had time to answer him, as Vilen was already opening a narrow door upon which hung a sign that read 'STAFF ONLY'. He disappeared into the inky dark of the supply room, the tip of his pale tail the last thing to be seen.

Meanwhile, the apprentice's eyes widened as Perrine's magic worked through her. The healing arts were not unheard of in Alliria, but it was not always accessible to the commonfolk.

"Miss, thank you, but I-I can't afford to pay you for this." She responded to Perrine meekly. She'd seated herself on the step stool behind the counter, clearly still shaken up by the fall.

"I'll cover any cost." Vilen came back in with a bucket and broom. Offhandedly, he pointed the end of the broom handle first to the mess of glass on the floor, and then to where the healer woman and the dwarf crouched. "This and that." His smile came with a sideways tilt of the head, doggish. "Perhaps with a song?"

She stood, back to her full height, and now properly regarded Vilen once more. "There better be no more singing. I think I am exhausted of songs and the lute." Perrine chuckled.

The broom went swish swish across the shop floor, and Vilen got to cleaning up the glass. His tail swayed to the same rhythm as he worked. "But Perrine's a bird name, right? Surely you could accept some light whistling."

"Um, you're thinking of a peregrine, syr..." the apprentice corrected him quietly.

Perrine Urahil
 
  • Frog Eyes
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