Open Chronicles Journey to Home

[Myrcella Bochanan]

Richard Henry the Eighth had carried Myrcella for weeks now. Honestly she had lost track of the time away from home. It was never intended, but portal stones had sent them far away. Her injury was also refusing to heal for one reason or another which made her very distraught.

Yet Richard did what he could to lift her spirits; sometimes singing, always telling jokes and even finding her a pretty dress to replace her tattered one.

Following a rainbow's end of all things, the two came upon a village further along in the valley.

"Is that it, Richard? Is that the Halfling village?" From afar houses always looked small. Up close was another matter entirely.

 

[Richard Henry the Eighth]

(OOC:

)

It's been a few days since Richard followed the Rainbow to Fairbarin he was fairly certain it was the right way. It was said that all Rainbows in the Allir Reach lead to the Halfling village, it was located right in the middle of the Allir Reach hidden away from all of the strife and struggles of the world. Halflings of Fairbarin liked it that way. It was a place of food, comfort and cheer, it was far enough so that armies would take too long to march on and Fairbarin is not a great place to conquer considering it's located in the middle of the Allir Reach miles from Alliria and the Gold Road: The real prizes for an empire to take over.

The only war that Richard recalled were by the Goblins lead by King Grugak 250 years ago. The Halflings and Goblins had a tense relationship since the Halflings first came to Arethril. It became a full blown war which lasted 2 years and ended when King Grugak was decapacitated by Elmos or "Elmo" Longriver in the battle of Fairbarin where the Allrian Rangers allied with the Halflings against the Goblin King's hoarde which said to number 300,000.

The Rangers and the Halflings only had a quarter of that number possibly less but they managed to outsmart them with ambushes, defeat in detail and feint retreats winning through attrition. "Yes we're here," Richard said taking in the warm summer air. The Halfling settlement was large full of tall sunflowers billowing in the wind, and a couple of Halflings working the fields, pulling stubborn bulls as they form a place to plant seeds.

"I've been here a couple of times," Richard said walking down the winding road, a couple of Halflings gawked at he and Myrcella while they traveled to the main lands. They whispered amongst each other saying things like: "Humans" or "Big People here."

"Halflings value their privacy," Richard said. "The Allrian Rangers patrol the nearby forests on the lookout for outsiders but we entered the settlement unconventionally."

It was part of the Halfling and Ranger pact after the war where the Halflings would get protection by the Rangers. They would often stop people entering Fairbarin and ask for their travelling papers, it usually ended peacefully. "We're going to see the mayor," Richard said. "I've known him for quite some time even had tea with him. He is a nice enough fellow but a bit on the plump side then again that's pretty much Halflings. They have large appetites."

Richard didn't know if he was going to endure a third dinner last time he was in Fairbarin.

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

"It's pretty."

Myrcella eyed the village curiously, just as the halflings eyed the two of them. She offered them a small smile and a little wave, yet wasn't too surprised when she got none in return.

"Aren't they going to wonder how we got by the Rangers?" Neither of them were covered in blood and gore, so it was obvious that they didn't get involved in a fight. There was only the matter of Myrcella's ankle, which was still noticeably wounded.

"We're going to see the mayor? Well that's great! Surely he'll help us send word to our families, right?"

 

[Richard Henry the Eighth]

"Well Halflings are so accustomed to have the Allirian Rangers patrol the forests that they often forget their presence except of course the mayor," Richard said as they crossed the stone bridge arriving at the marketplace. It was surprisingly busier than usual, Richard could see a lot of tables stacked with food and many Halflings placing up tents, singing and laughing at the same time. "It looks like a carnival," Richard mused as they passed the Halflings by. They were too busy preparing to notice the pair while they walked.

"Is this some unexpected party?" Richard asked Myrcella as he was careful to avoid the gardens planted near the Halfling holes. "In anycase Mayor Seamus Diddlesworth will be more than happy to send messengers to our families," Richard said. "We just got to hope that he doesn't pass out from eating too much food."

Halflings are great lovers of food but Seamus takes his love too far sometimes often having 8 breakfasts in one day.

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

Myrcella listened, though only partly. Her mind was all on the food that was being placed on the tables. So many baked goods, meats and breads. Her tummy began to grumble in spite of itself once the yummy scents took over the air.

"I think that there's a chance that I might pass out from eating too much, if given the chance. Such a wondrous feast. Do you think that they'd allow us to partake?" Or would they have to buy their food? She didn't have any coin on her, but Richard Henry the Eighth might have some. "I could use a proper meal. And dessert too. Oh and a drink!"

Her thoughts on messengers just kind of fell to the wayside as her attention was caught on all of the delicious foods that they were passing by.

 

[Richard Henry the Eighth]

Richard chuckled the scent of Roast Pork entering his nose, the Halflings struggled to put up a sign which read: "Harvest Festival!" Apparently the Halflings had a good season farming after all. "Well Halflings are known for their hospitality," he said smiling. "So there is a good possibility they might take pity on us and provide us with some food."

He was certain that with feast like this, the Halflings would let them engorge on the smorgasbord of food. While they were suspicious of outsiders, Halflings typically warmed up to them. "Don't worry my dear Myrcella," he said. "The Mayor's Halfling Hole is not too far away besides what kind of drink do you want? Beer? Ale?"

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

Myrcella smiled at the thought, her stomach growling again in agreement. "Really? I do hope that they'll let us. We haven't eaten properly in weeks. Am I skin and bones? I'm sure that I've gotten thinner since we had disappeared from home."

As he enquired on what she wanted to drink, Myrcella had a bit pause as she thought about it. "A honey mead would be nice. Do you think they have some here?"

 

[Richard Henry the Eighth]

"Honestly I cannot tell," Richard said looking at Myrcella. "You were thinner than a Giraffe's neck when I first met you. If you lost any pounds while we were on the road then I can't tell." They were getting closer to Mayor Seamus' home as Richard sighed. "I don't think so," he said. "But they do have wine a great brand called the Halfling Hole made by Fairbairn's own: Seredic. A taste of it will send your tastebuds to the moon let me tell you."

Richard do for some wine just about now.

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

Myrcella's brows furrowed with concern for herself. "Do I really look that bad?" Had she always done so? Was she always regarded as being too skinny? She had some strength to her muscles gained from riding horses, but it didn't really appear as such.

And as of late through their journey, she had hardly taken two steps without being carried. So that didn't help.

"The wine sounds nice. I shall try that if they have it."

 

[Richard Henry the Eighth]

Richard felt his cheeks heating up, well he certainly didn't mean that. It was just that Myrcella maintained a fine figure to the point where he hardly noticed. The Bard Knight made sure that she was as well fed as possible even sacrificing significant portions of his meal so Myrcella can eat. Richard had been in situations where he was alone in the forest and starving his father placed him in scenarios growing up something that he was still resentful for.

"You look good," Richard said approaching Seamus' door. "You shouldn't be insecure with your own body have a positive image of yourself. I'm sure your version is one with large muscles and abs of steel." Richard frowned. "Wait....." he said. "That's my idealized version."

The Bard Knight knocked on the door sighing in the process. "He better not be gorging himself," he said. "It'll take three hours for him to answer the bloody door then."

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

"I hadn't thought about it, really...." And by that she meant her type of figure. Myrcella had always been too wrapped up in herself, her painting and her siblings. Just that thought brought her mood slightly downward as she grew homesick again.

She raised a brow slightly as the initial knocking on the Mayor's door gave no reaction on the other side. "You can put me down if you'd like while we wait."

 

[Grand Khordon]

Fairbarin, a happy little village of the simple and pleasant halfling people, their lives could easily be defined as simply "pleasant". Pleasant gardening, pleasant food, pleasant company (if you weren't a stranger), pleasant little homes in the ground, pleasant flocks and herds of animals, pleasant little children playing together in pleasant little yards.

Grand was often considered a giant among his own kind, but he was truly so among these people. Luckily he was well known here, even among the rangers guarding the borders from the shadows he had become an annual appearance, presenting the appropriate license and gaining entry as he always did around time for their harvest festival. He rolled into Fairbarin in a cart pulled by a sturdy draft horse... Naturally it was laden with celebratory equipment of wizard craft.
Halfling children pranced after the cart gleefully. Illusory butterflies flashed into existence and the squealing children chased after the glowing bugs while Grand, also called Grandfather by everyone who knew him, chuckled in amusement.

His cart creaked up in front of the mayors house and his attention was immediately grabbed by the two humans standing on the front porch. The lady was the worse off of the two, that ankle looked bad no matter how you spun it. And the chivalrous man carried her obviously for a long way.
Taking hold of his wizards staff he climbed down from the cart with a grunt and a smile.
Doing his signature old man chuckle he approached the two.
"Is Mayor Diddlesworth being slow to the door again? You better let me try."
He limped up to the door relying heavily on his staff before banging loudly with the inset gem in the tangled roots at the head of the heavy stick.
"He's likely doing some pre-party celebrating in his cellar. Where do you two hail from? Seems you've had a tough time of it."

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

Grand Khordon caught Myrcella be surprise. She wasn't expecting to see anyone....well, normal. As normal as an old man could be anyways.

"I don't know what he's doing. He could be having a nap." She had no idea how old the Mayor was, but she was guessing him to be old. Most people seemed to be older than she was anyways. Yet she wasn't exactly well travelled, despire the hellish journey they were on.

Just how to answer his question, Myrcella didn't quite know. There was far too much to say and opening that flood gate would surely bring her to tears. "It's a long story..."

 

[Richard Henry the Eighth]

"The Gods!" Richard raised his eyes in shock as he saw the old wizard in front of him. "Are the Grand Khordon of the College of Elbion?" The Bard Knight nearly dropped Myrcella as he stared in awe of the mage. He was famous for being one of the best professors in the college with students giving him high marks in his ways of teaching. "I am Richard Henry the Eighth," Richard and this is my love: Myrcella Bochanan. Say hello Myrcella!" Richard hissed at the girl hoping that she wouldn't embarrass him.

 

[Grand Khordon]

"Are you the Grand Khordon of the College of Elbion?"
"I am Richard Henry the Eighth,"
"And this is my love: Myrcella Bochanan. Say hello Myrcella!"

Grand gave his old man chuckle again. Ahh the enthusiasm of youth.
"One in the same, Sir Henry, though friends and students call me Grandfather."
He looked down and got a glimpse at Myrcella's ankle.
"It appears I'm at your service, I didn't expect to find noble youths in Fairbarin. Why don't you set the young miss down on that garden bench and let me have a look at that ankle?"
He looked on them kindly, they could do with some proper pampering, it looked like they've been in the wilderness for a lot longer than they were used to.

"I don't know what he's doing. He could be having a nap."

"It's a long story..."

He nodded sagely, as an old man it was difficult to nod any other way.
"Eh, Mister Diddlesworth is never prompt during the harvest festival. This village is otherwise well known for their hospitality when they know you're coming. Just pretend you came with me and you should receive a warm welcome!"

He limped over to the bench and leaned on his staff.
"Now, let's have a look at that ankle and hear your tale!"

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

Myrcella held Richard Henry the Eighth a little tighter as he nearly dropped her. It came as another surprise as he apparently recognized Grand Khordon . No doubt that could only be beneficial to them.

She lowered her eyebrows as Richard nearly hissed at her. Just what was all the fuss about? Her attention turned to the mage teacher. "Hello sir." Myrcella was neither a student nor friend of his yet, so she refrained from calling him Grandfather for the time being.

The fact that he wanted to look at her ankle lifted her spirits, however. "I twisted it while getting off of my horse. I was angry as we had learned that we were betrothed and neither of us were happy about it. A troll came and dragged me off to a cave where we encountered more monsters after we got away. Yet I accidently touched a portal stone that took us somewhere else. And we've been basically going from place to place through portal stones and walking for months alone. It's been terrible! Our families probably think we're dead and my ankle refuses to get any better. It's not fair. I just want to go home and be in my own bed surrounded by my mother and our servants." Myrcella did her bes to hold in her tears, yet she was on the verge of failing that too.

 

[Richard Henry the Eighth]

Richard smiled, the old wizard was a master of healing among other schools. He was a gifted mage and it was through the Gods grace that he was here. Richard smiled and kissed Myrcella on the forehead to calm her down. "It's been......" Richard began an interesting journey going back home. "You have arrived here a little late. But of course you know the old adage: Better late than never."

The Bard Knight placed Myrcella onto the bench and exposed her purple ankle. "So will you help us?" he asked with desperation in his voice.

 

[Grand Khordon]

"I twisted it while getting off of my horse. I was angry as we had learned that we were betrothed and neither of us were happy about it. A troll came and dragged me off to a cave where we encountered more monsters after we got away. Yet I accidently touched a portal stone that took us somewhere else. And we've been basically going from place to place through portal stones and walking for months alone. It's been terrible! Our families probably think we're dead and my ankle refuses to get any better. It's not fair. I just want to go home and be in my own bed surrounded by my mother and our servants."

He took off his hat and shook his head sadly.
"Indeed, lady Bochanan. You have my sympathy. Such a hard road and horrors you've seen, it would be enough to break a lesser woman completely and utterly. But take heart, you've come this far and appear to have kept your wits about you! Take pride in your accomplishment!"
He didn't mention the disparity he noticed between the lady's account and the lord's introducing her as his love. It was hardly his business though he knew the noble games all too well from when he was a youth.

"It's been......" Richard began "an interesting journey going back home. You have arrived here a little late. But of course you know the old adage: Better late than never."

"... But never late is better." He finished for him with a chuckle.
"But a wizard is never late, nore is he early! He arrives exactly when he means to!"

He bent down to examine her ankle. His large calloused hands were surprisingly gentle even as he cradled the injured foot, he seemed to know when something hurt before she did as he assessingly moved it in ways that it was supposed to bend or move so that he could determine the damage.
"I do apologize if any of this hurts, Lady Bochanan. Simply trust in the process, I'll have you on your feet in no time at all!"
After assessing the damage he gently kept her foot propped on his knee while he rummaged through a bag of holding for a minute. He reached into the small pouch all the way up to his shoulder till he triumphantly pulled out another small bag, this one containing several different medical tools and equipment vital for tending injuries.

"So you've traveled all over Arethil I take it? Where's home for you again? Did you say it was close to Alliria? If so then home isn't far at all!"
He began applying a magical poltice with a soft haired brush to her swollen ankle as if he were spreading melted butter over a bun, introducing a soothing cool sensation to the damaged flesh.

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

Myrcella propped herself up a bit so that she could see what was going on. The bench wasn't comfy like a bed, but it'll do. Especially if it meant that she'd be helped.

When Richard Henry the Eighth seemed to get after Grand Khordon for being late, Myrcella couldn't help but interject. "We had only just arrived here ourselves."

The journey hadn't been something that she could take pride in. At least not for her part. All that she had wanted was to get home. Yet EVERYTHING got in the way of that. If she had been able to walk on her own all of this time, then she at least wouldn't be helpless and left to the mercy of anyone they encountered. She was tired and at times feverish during these months, but her stubborness didn't let her break down completely. And neither did Richard.

She winced a little as her ankle was moved, yet it was the anxiety of it all that made it seem worse. The soft brush and cooling sensation helped though, causing Myrcella to let out a sighing breath of relief. "We're not far? How far is not far? Days? A week?"

Diyah

 

[Diyah]

Someone wanted her dead, and that someone paid. That was what mattered. She had no reason to think of who she was, what she’d done or if she deserved death. Her life had been demanded and paid for, and she was obligated to deliver.

Diyah was hidden very thoroughly within the bushes and grasses of the frankly adorable little village, and she observed the injure dog target enter the structure. She would have to wait until dark to actually have a shot at getting inside unseen. When the fragile woman was left to sleep.

 

[Richard Henry the Eighth]

Richard chuckled while Grand Khordon worked on Myrcella's ankle that was a common quote that was associated to the old wizard by his students. "You know," Richard said stroking his beard. "Your students often quote that from you when you're late for your lectures. Do you say that as a way to sound wise or is it just an excuse?"

The Bard Knight winked as he leaned next to Myrcella. "Are you feeling all right?" he asked.

 

[Grand Khordon]

We're not far? How far is not far? Days? A week?"

He paused in his administering of the poultice and and briefly calculated.
"From here you're about a month out on foot, an easy trek following a well used road. However, about four days into your journey you'll run into the merchants highway which is very busy this time of year, you're sure to eventually find a caravan heading to your destination that could cut several weeks off your travel time or at least make the journey long but comfortable."
He finished spreading the cooling gel over her ankle and then produced a sweet smelling herbal oil also with beneficial effects on injuries. He dabbed the oil on a bit of gauze before gently applying the oiled gauze to her ankle.

"You know," Richard said stroking his beard. "Your students often quote that from you when you're late for your lectures. Do you say that as a way to sound wise or is it just an excuse?"

He chuckled shaking his head.
"Well, young Lord, if you would like for me to give you the answer I give to my students I could bore you with a long winded explanation on the subjectivity of schedules. But the short answer to both questions is: No.
It's never as an excuse for tardiness since as a Maester of the college I am also required to focus on my tenure, my classes scheduled are therefore subject to change. Thus when I am unable to teach at all I see to it that my students are informed, but if I am able to teach it is naturally based on my own timing.
And while it's a simple explanation not meant to sound wise, I do end up sounding wise in the process. I cannot be late when the only schedule I'm beholding to is my own."

He neatly tied a special cloth around Myrcella's injury, tight but not tight enough to hurt, and stood up brushing off his hands.
"There we go, it should be better within a few hours. Just keep your weight off of it, use a cane or a crutch or a shoulder if you have to but don't be walking on it until the bandage disintegrates."

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

Myrcella leaned back now, smiling at the prospect of being close to home. Well, closer than they had been in a long time, in any case. Just the thought of being back in her own bed was wonderful.

Both the ointments as well as Grand Khordon 's voice soothed her. It made her wonder if students of his ever fell in a trance or asleep in his classes. In either case she wasn't complaining. "I am feeling better, thank you." Her words were spoken in response to Richard Henry the Eighth 's inquiry.

Once her ankle was wrapped up, she sat herself up again, nodding at the instructions given. "I'll try to be careful. I'm sure that the mayor will let me rest somewhere, won't he?"

New dress, new ankle; it was almost as though she was going to be allowed to feel like her old self again. Everything was going to get better. Wasn't it?

Perhaps if she knew about Diyah in the bushes, Myrcella would think otherwise.

 

[Diyah]

Diyah moved quickly and quietly, and peered into one of the windows to get a feel for the layout of the house. And where her target was.

She ducked down again once she had a sufficient glimpse. The knight would potentially be a problem, but if caught in those squat, narrow hallways he'd have to resort to grappling. Which since she had venomous spurs on her elbows (see profile pic) would leave him at a huge disadvantage despite his greater size.

She waited, still as a lake on a windless day. She'd have her chance.