Private Tales Never trust the shadows

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
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"Coin, how very droll?" he laughed quietly.

"Whilst I could trade it for whatever I needed, my Lord is the one who owns these old treasures. He has no interest in metals."

Coming to a halt, he turned towards Anais. He drew his fingers through silver hair as he considered her offers.

Revealing that he didn't value coin meant that he was weakening his hand. Given the day Anais had been through, he didn't worry about that too much.

"What kind of trinkets?" he asked, "I can almost always be tempted by a story..."
 

Anais

The Hopeless
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Ana gave him a look of mingled incredulity and amusement as she stopped, her head tilting in indiscreet curiosity and her eyes following his fingers through his silvery strands. That he had no interest in coin only set him apart even further from most men, and once again she found herself surprised by him.

It wasn't often she was caught off guard. She was a gypsy, they were often a mouthy bunch, quick witted and rarely lost for words. And yet she tried to speak and could only let a breath of a laugh tumble out as she shook her head, brushing back a few loose tresses from her face.

"Droll.." she mimicked with a wide grin that showed her teeth. "I agree." she nodded. "I have many trinkets, and many stories. A trinket might make you wealthier, a story might make you wiser.." she shrugged, and her brow arched slowly.

"If you'd like a story, I'll share it with you by the fire. If you'd like a trinket, those are in my wagon. But I don't just let any random man go rummaging around in there." she smirked.
 
  • Thoughtful
Reactions: Fingal
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"Ah now that is a rate conundrum," he offered with a smirk in turn. He held his chin in his hands as if in deep thought.

It wasn't the most difficult choice in his long life, but Fingal enjoyed acting for other people's benefit. He enjoyed a good game, which this had become one.

She had suffered tragedy, but the cwn allowed the problems of mortals to slip from his thoughts easily.

"Now I do so enjoy a good story, but I must insist that you give me some names so that I don't get paid in one I have already heard. Even if - I am sure - the telling would be well worth the experience alone. But, I do also enjoy a good rummage around in a strange woman's wagon. Very difficult indeed. "
 
  • Haha
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Anais

The Hopeless
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She couldn't help the quiet chuckle that snuck its way past her lips, though as soon as it had she pressed her fingertips to her mouth to halt the sound, her eyes glancing past him toward her camp. She shouldn't be laughing right now. Not after the day she'd had, nor after the loss they'd suffered and whilst Oliver was in pain. It simply felt wrong..

Her lips twisted, and she let out a more reserved huff of a laugh, shaking her head as she moved past him once more, her eyes falling once more to watch her feet.

"Hm.. Well I could tell you the story of the Wyvern, the Lupa and the Basilisk, that's a fun one." she tilted her head, glancing back at him with the lilt of a question in her tone.
 
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Fingal followed her gaze towards the camp. Anais had a lot to let sink in. He didn't know whether she felt guilty for being away from the camp to barter over stories or because she didn't want to step back there and confront the grief. In his experience, no one dealt with hardship exactly the same as anyone else.

"That sounds like it could be a good story," he replied. "But I am keeping you in the dark and..." eyes strayed downwards briefly, "...in the cold."

"Come on," he said, continuing back towards the camp. As they went, he gathered up an armful of kindling. The trees just back from the edge of the river provided as good supply of dried out branches.

Fingal didn't go as far as the camp, picking out a patch of dry grass to stop at. Fingal set down the kindling in a rough pile. He muttered a word under his breath and flames burst from the centre of the stack. The fuel wouldn't last long, but it gave off plenty of warmth for the exchange. They were close enough that some from the camp might see the fire and come to question them, but he didn't want to provide his old song to a wide audience.

"So...do you want the tune in full first so you can learn it or to tell the story?"
 

Anais

The Hopeless
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Ana's lips twisted and her head dropped in a nod, the breathy laugh a silvery plume in the air. The damp shift dress did little to keep the cold air from burrowing to her bones.

The thought of hungry wolves and the tricks her mind played with the shadows kept her close to him as they walked to find a little spot closer to the camp. She smiled to herself as he set the kindling down here, whether he'd considered that she might not wish to return just yet, or whether he was just being bold enough to decide that they'd spend some more time alone, she wasn't sure, but either way she dropped to her knees just as the flames kicked up and the heat was instantly drawn to battle the cold on her pale skin.

Her brows rose in response to the cantrip, and for a moment she hesitated from getting comfortable. "I didn't realise that you possessed such gifts.." she said cautiously, setting the bloodied dress aside and shuffling a little closer to the warmth.

"I'd like to hear the song." she added, running her fingers through her damp waves in attempt to dry it off a little now that there was heat in the air.
 
  • Devil
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"I'd hardly given you cause to think I might possess such gifts," Fingal replied. He chuckled softly and waved his hand, causing the flames to die down a little.

"I've picked up a number of little tricks on my travels," he said. "You learn all kinds of secrets when you find interesting company for the road."

"I only know the chorus and I don't even know what the words mean," he warned. Fingal cleared his throat and sat upright.

He started the tune humming from the back of his throat, deep and resonant. The tune was slow and melancholy. It rose in volume until he reached the chorus where the tempo jumped and the key changed to sound hopeful as he sang words that had long lost their meaning.