Private Tales School's Out Forever

[Delphine]

Scabhair | Somewhere along The Spine | Red Archbishop Inn


Eyes squinted against the dim,gray light of morning. It was far from bright outdoors and had the appearance of an impending snowstorm. For one to travel in such weather would be daunting, yet not for herself. Delphine was born and had spent most of her life on the Tundra. Snow,cold, and ice were commonplace in her life. Comforting to some extent. A small reminder of home, rare to find in her current travels.

Body managed to move and dress, heading down creaky stairs of the inn. Delphine had paid more than she thought necessary for the evening but supposed one could charge what they felt - this had been the only Inn for a long stretch of period. Beings of all sorts had taken refuge from the cold as well - some she had never seen in her life. There had been tales, encounters of others with her Clan. Trading and being nomads meant encountering various walks of life.Just because her mind could wrap around knowing about different species didn't mean she still didn't stare from time to time. Or feel uncomfortable.

Yet she had no choice in the matter at the moment - at least not if she didn't want to go hungry. Carefully she maneuvered between two types of beings she had never seen before. One was speaking to another companion further away from her in an unknown tongue. Best to keep her head down and focus on the thin soup in front of her. Best if she could get back to travelling before she wound up in trouble.

 

[Scabhair]

Wasn’t long after Delphine had sat down that another figure slunk through the crowd and negotiated a nearby chair. The place was busy – weather, isolation, evening – and fashioned for human proportions to boot.

Scabhair was cramped. Her knees kept bumping into the table whenever someone shoved past. Earlier she’d almost slammed her forehead into the doorjamb. Not her best, admittedly.

But then anyone’d be a bit out of it after three days’ ride through the bloody mess looming on the other side of the thick windows. Inodeirr and Scabhair had set a punishing pace to escape the snowstorm in time. Burst through the doors not half a candlemark prior, drenched in sweat and breathing misty white clouds.

An icy wash and a change of clothes later, the half-orc felt marginally more alive. Still shivering, though – but hopefully the stew steaming in the bowl would soon alleviate that. The chunks of meat floating around in the orange swill looked a little suspect, but years on the road had strengthened her stomach to a respectable degree.

She was no komodi, of course. But she was hungry.

Scabhair dove into her soup with gusto, yet surprising manners. Brandishing only a dry breadcrust and a wooden spoon, the woman still managed an etiquette befitting a royal table. In a scant few ladles, the utensil clattered to the bottom of her dish.

Unimpressed by what had indeed turned out to be the cheapest cuts of meat, the orc rummaged around her pack for her salted zobr jerky. Wordlessly she offered another strip to the other woman at the table, content to chew with her mouth shut.

Anything else would be impolite, after all.

 

[Delphine]

Pale eyes watched the large....creature...eat the thin soup that was on the menu for today before digging through and finding a dried meat. Delphine watched as the creature chewed before offering a piece to herself. What was the protocol? Cultural implications? She had noticed through her small travels not taking food was often seen as a sign of disrespect. When trading her Clan often offered food to those they met, those who sat down to do business and share news of distant lands.

Shakily, hand reached out to take the proffered meat. A small smile and nod would hopefully not offend the being sitting across from her and now chewing - rather civilized - its own piece of died meat.

"Thank you."


Scabhair

 

[Scabhair]

“No problem,” she replied after she’d swallowed her mouthful. She washed it down with a long swig from her tankard, then turned her eyes to her fellow redhead again. She stuck out her hand with a small smile. “I’m Scabhair ri Eine.”

“I have to admit I don’t recognise your accent.” Her own Common had been carefully culled of all Baaran influences – if it weren’t for the tusks and the build, Scabhair could easily pass for a human from Elbion by diction alone. “Where are you from, if I might be so forward?”

 

[Delphine]

Delphine did not expect the creature to speak. Nor have the ability to speak with such civility. During her travels Delphine had found she was becoming more and more surprised with who and what she was encountering. The Isles had only shown her such visitors from time to time and typically she not interact with him. Delphine was not a high ranking member of the Clan,business was typically conducted by those who earned it. She certainly had not.

"Pleasure to meet you Scabhair."

Odd name. The creature didn't seem to have scabs.

"I hail from the Isles. Have you ever been? Visitors from all over tend to come to our trading ports."

 

[Scabhair]

A faint furrow formed in her brow for a few moments. Then she slowly shook her head and leaned back in her seat. “I wouldn’t know, miss…?”

Scabhair arched her voice into a polite inquiry about her name, filling the space with a sip from her mug.

“Which isles might you mean? I’ve travelled aplenty, though I must admit I’m not overly fond of sea passage.” The cramped berths didn’t exactly agree with her love of open plains. “I’ve only been to a few islands, and most of them quite close to the coast at that.”

 

[Delphine]

"Delphine." Mother would curse her if she had known her manners had clearly been forgotten. Blush flushed her cheeks at her internal berating, now stumbling to catch up and be proper. There was also the thought she had to remember not everyone would just automatically know what she meant by Isles."Delphine of Sheketh. Excuse my lack of manners."

A nod at the mention of sea passage. It wasn't for the faint of heart.


"Where might you hail from? Scabhair ?I would assume you are a traveler as well."

 

[Scabhair]

“Oh.” Scabhair brightened up with a smile, tusks glinting in the candlelight. “And it’s no matter,” she waved the embarrassment away, “we’ve all been there. The world is a large place. Wondrous, too.”

Nodding as she sipped from her mug again, the orc swept her hand at the blurry scene of the mountains on the other side of the window. “Beyond that peak, a great plain opens up. The western tribes call it Taagi Baara. We call it Manna ri Mladhmanna. The humans down in Alliria call it the Northern steppes.” She shrugged her broad shoulders and settled back into the chair. “It’s a big, empty place. The wide earth below, the wide sky above, and the wide ridges of the Spine to bridge one to the other.”

“And your home, what is it like?” Scabhair chuckled, “And where is it?”