Open Chronicles Tea with a Stranger

[Huang Tien]

"Sharing tea with fascinating strangers is one of life's true delights."
-Iroh

Spoiler

Not all stories of heroes and legends are about their combating prowess. Many of the more well known fairy tails seldom include the mention of knights, dragons, and so forth.

It was perhaps around noonish one day, somewhere among the greater continent of the world. To many observing at the time, it was quite a peaceful day. The sun was up, birds were chirping, bees were buzzing happily...and a strange man in yellow was resting under the shade of a tree.

To be specific, this tree stood upon the banks of a creek, standing isolated among a field of grass, away from the beaten road. The man himself was dressed in rags, laying against the trunk, with one leg crossed over the other. His straw hat had covered his face, and sticking out of his mouth was a blade of grass that he was no doubt chewing upon it.

Located not too far away from this man, closer to the creek was some sort of pole sticking out of the ground. If one were to examine closely they'd realize it was a weapon, a polearm of some sort that resembled a war glave. However, at the moment it wasn't exactly being used for it's intended use, as the blade portion of the weapon was firmly planted in the ground. The shaft was thus sticking out across the creek, somthing was attached near the hilt of the pole: It was a fishing line, tied to the pole, with the other end appearing to submersed underwater.

It would appear the stranger was fishing...fishing and one other thing.

Not to far away from the polearm was patch of land that had appeared to have been cleared away. It would appear that somebody had made a fire, and was boiling somthing over it. A teapot, dangling over a stick, supported by two forked sticks planted firmly in the ground. Resting near the fire was two two cups, some would say they were missing handles. If the teapot was anything to indicate, the stranger had recently just set down; the pot at the moment was not boiling,

A peaceful day indeed...A good time to relax, catch some fish, and drink some nice hot tea...​

 

[Ynsidia]

Her experiences in Pandemonium made the world of Arethil's beauty seem somehow more amplified. The Hellscape, while she was within it, had brought up so much anger, and fury, and sapped out the joy of simple wonders like an isolated creek. The woman, still more a girl at 16, resisted the urge to skip rocks.

Arms and face bandaged, as well as feet and legs but boots and billowing pants hid them, she carried wounds physical, and emotional from her time inside the scarlet mists and land beyond. Her sullen expression softened though, one eye widening with appreciation (the other eye was bandaged over) for the way the sun glinted off the surface of the creek.

The journey from the Blightlands to Elbion for some sort pursuit of the College was halfway through, and this little distraction was something she could indulge in. Boat, and caravan had brought her this far, but some of the travel she did alone on foot, especially since her next boat was not on the same path as those she'd traveled with.

She left the beaten path, and came upon the pot.

"I was once told that if one watches a pot, it never boils."

Ynsidia - The Conjuring Witch, said mostly to herself, sitting down and watching the pot. Her time was completely her own. She could enjoy it, waste it how she saw fit.

"I wonder..." she added jokingly with a smirk. She knew it would boil either way, but felt, for once, carefree, and frivolis in a way that wasn't reproachable.

 

[Huang Tien]

When he heard the approaching, the strange man turned his head slightly and glanced up, revealing his eyes. The man would observe the young girl making an observation herself. She seemed more affixed to the boiling pot then she was to him. He could be a hostile entity for all she knew.

Luckily for her, he was not.

The man went back to his business, not saying a word as he did, gazing back to the moving creek and his polearm. The blade of grass in his mouth occasionally moved as he chewed, but for the most part the stranger in yellow remained still. It was a wonder what he thought during this time of peace, he could be reflecting, or idoly staring off into space, or maybe he was just dozing off on this lazy day.

After a bit of time, the pressure within the pot began to reach a tipping point, as more and more steam began to pour out the tip. Come a certain time, the stranger in yellow sat up from his seat and scooted towards the fire. The stranger reached over and removed the pot from it's hanging position, sitting up further as he began to pour the tea into the two sitting cups.

Once the cups were filled, the stranger place the teapot on the grass nearby, before reaching gingerly for a cup of tea. The tea itself had a...green taste, a bit foreign to most of these lands, but an interesting taste nevertheless. The stranger's hat tipped upwards, revealing his eyes again, as he looked over to the young girl now. Wordlessly, the stranger in yellow offered her a cup of tea.
​

 

[Owen Mason]

"First one to flinch loses. Sound good to you, friend?"

The man across from Owen nodded. Rubbed his hands together. Grinning. Eager. All the patrons of tavern had come round. Stood about the table and the two men sat there and the small stack of gold coins on it.

"Easiest coin I'll make in my life, traveler," said the Bettin Man.

Owen smiled and shrugged. "Reckon so?"

"Oh I reckon alright."

Owen reached into his pocket and pulled out another coin and placed it on the stack. "Wouldn't mind for a raise then, wouldya?"

The man couldn't match the coin from his own pocket fast enough. "You're damned right I won't mind."

"Alright. Let's go, friend."

Owen placed his right hand on the table. Spread his fingers wide. The Bettin Man from him did the same. The two men behind them took out big fisherman's knives. Each placing the point of the blade in the space between Owen and the Bettin Man's thumb and pointer finger to start. The bartender was squatting down some and had his hands on the table and was keeping eyes on Owen. The bartender's wife kept her eyes on the Bettin Man.

"Alright, boys," said the bartender. A few seconds passed. And he announced, "Go!"

The knife wielding men started out slow. Each poking their knives down in the spaces between the fingers of the Bettin Man and Owen. But each time they came back round to the space between the thumb and pointer finger, they went just a little bit faster. A little bit faster. A little bit faster still. The metal of the blades. At first tapping against the wood of the table. The sound becoming more and more menacing. Slamming instead of poking. The pace of their strikes growing wilder as they went faster and faster.

Owen kept his eyes on the Bettin Man. And, for the first ten or so rounds anyway, the Bettin Man did the same. But as the knife men's paces got quicker and quicker, nervous glances down at his fingers followed.

"I'm right here, friend," said Owen with a little light-hearted laugh.

"Yeah, I know where you are, stranger."

"Easier if you don't look at the knife."

The crowd around the table buzzed with excitement. Gasps and hoots and hollers and nerve-wracking fun for all. 'Cept maybe the bettin man. Seemed he was having second thoughts.

A collective howl as blood was drawn on Owen first. A cut on his middle finger. But the knife man kept going, 'cause Owen didn't flinch or avert his gaze. Just kept smiling and looking at the Bettin Man. Another cut. On the Bettin Man this time. Credit were credit was due, the man didn't flinch yet. He just pursed his lips and still met Owen's eyes.

More cuts. More blood. Each of them had the look of fool children done ran their hands through a thornbush. Blood on the table. Starting to become a real mess as the crowd kept cheering and hollering and the knife men kept inevitably making mistake after mistake as they tired and struggled to keep up the pace.

And, finally, the Bettin Man flinched and yowled when the knife sank deep into and--damned if it wasn't a sorry sight--right through his little finger and got lodged in the wood of the table.

"Son of a bitch!" the Bettin man yelled over the roar of the local crowd, who seemed more on Owen's side than his as they cheered and hooted and laughed and stammered about the tavern in unbridled excitement from the conclusion of the game. The bartender's wife didn't even need to announce the winner. Clear as day.

Owen smiled and pulled the stack of coins toward himself with his uninjured hand. Said, "Figure we all gotta lose some time. Must be my lucky day."

* * * * *​

Owen left town after he had healed the Bettin Man's hand and his own. Little village, not so different from Ared'luin. Smaller though. Locals still called it The Inn by the Creek, even though it wasn't just a solitary inn with the most literal name one could imagine anymore. Quiet place. Maybe a little too quiet. Home sure was nice and all, but Owen left to see the world. What all was different. Who all was out there. Some weren't so friendly, but that just came with the territory, didn't it?

He had a map, sure. Cost him enough, and no mistake there. But he did like just walkin. Walkin and lookin. Just go aiming for no destination in mind and let your eyes and your whim guide you along. Bit of fun to be had in bein lost on purpose. Especially when the land looked like this.

He walked along the side of the creek that was the namesake of the town and the inn far behind in his wake. If a man came along and told him right then and there that finer green could be found elsewhere, and Owen'd call him a liar. Village life had a peace and comfort about it, sure. But it came at the cost of never seeing sights like these. Arethil at its most breathtaking.

And he walked all morning.

Come noontime, he happened upon something. Odd, for sure, but not all that unsurprising.

A ways ahead sat a man in yellow with a hat and a short woman in billowing pants. Just sittin there and havin a little drink. Ain't that somethin?

Owen walked. Closed the distance after some few minutes. He approached such that the woman's back was to him and the man sat facing him.

Owen touched his forehead with the tip of his finger and made a little waving gesture to the man. Maybe the woman would see it too if she heard him coming and glanced back.

Said, "Nice day for a stroll, ain't it? Hopin neither of you would mind if I had a seat there. Been walkin all mornin."

 

[Ynsidia]

She accepted the tea, but hesitated at first; not out of fear for the beverage being steaming hot or for distrust of the man serving it, but because she was still fresh from Pandemonium, she was actually having problems telling her left hand from her right. All the things that had gotten into her head, teased and tormented her there, the way magic hurt when she used it, the sheer amount of inexplicable violence; it had been explained to her that her body and psyche had input overload. All her spiritual being had been overwhelmed and deafened, and her body was paying for it.

She was assured it would pass. "The soul is a persistent, stubborn thing; it will not die of its wounds, but you will always feel them, this thing with your living flesh will pass, though. You will recover your mind as your body recovers from the physical trauma as well." an Eternum 'Physician" (if that term was appropriate) told her before she started her long journey back.

Every day she was fighting to correct a confused form. She occasionally had waking dreams, walking along the road and then she was among the stars, or strolling through the bowls of the slave ship that bore her to Vel Anir when she was five. When she went to sleep and dreamed the normal way, the dreams were more vivid, lucid, real feeling. They lingered now, where her nightly dreams before tended to become vague with the morning light.

It took meditation to bring the waking dreams to a halt. She'd triumphed there. She constantly exercised her spiritual muscle to get her mind disciplined. As for her hands, that was a daily effort.

She was right handed.

But nowadays she was favoring her left, and was constantly trying to correct it. This time, though, the pause was a moment of decision. Ynsidia took the cup with her left and, and felt comfortable in doing so, as if she'd always used the left hand before.

Ynsidia wouldn't let this be a wound anymore. She accepted it as a change she could embrace.

"Thank you, Sir." she said presently, her lips forming an appreciative smile.

That was when Owen Mason appeared.

"Nice day for a stroll, ain't it? Hopin neither of you would mind if I had a seat there. Been walkin all mornin."

Ynsidia regarded him, still smiling, and shrugged.

"That's up to my host, I guess."

And Ynsidia looked to Huang Tien as she sipped her cup and savored the tea.

 

[Huang Tien]

The stranger was wordless through this exchange, patient to hold the tea out to the girl. When she had finally decided to accept the cup and thank him, the stranger in yellow would only nod in acknowledgement.

The tea itself was rather interesting, as it had a buttery and nutty taste to it. It would appear that it was a blend of two kinds of tea, rather then just the one...

The stranger would then look up to the new comer, his eyes were rather indifferent. This gaze would not hold to long, as the stranger would lower his head and his hat would once again cover his eyes; but as he did, he stretched an arm out and pointed it at the patch of ground next to the girl, indicating to the newcomer that he was welcome to have a seat with them.

The stranger would proceed to pour another cup of tea into the handlelss tea cup, all the while still not uttering a word. It seemed that the man was more contempt at sharing his tea then talking. His expression was a bit hard to read, as he did not exhibit much of an expression other then indifference. Within the next moment, the stranger would be offering the tea to the new comer, just as he did with the girl prior.​

 

[Owen Mason]

The woman said it was up to the host. And the host, man of a few words for sure, just made a gesture.

Owen nodded. "Well thank you kindly, friend."

He slipped his traveling pack down from his shoulder and grabbed the strap as it reached his hand and set it down on the ground before he sat cross-legged next to the woman. Fatigue was an odd thing to him. He could feel it in his muscles, sure, like in his feet right now. But it didn't register as a good or bad feeling. Just what happened after using said muscles for a long time or intensively for a short time. So...he really didn't know when to stop. All he had to go on were guesses and estimations of his own devising after having watched others doing similar things and noting the point at which they seemed tired.

And the silent man handed him a tea cup. Been a long and honest while. Ared'luin didn't have tea regularly available, only when local traders imported some or traveling traders stopped by with some.

Owen took the cup and raised it up slightly as a gesture of gratitude. He didn't take a drink right away. He held it in his hands and blew at the steam. Like fatigue, he could feel temperature, but he had no sense of how hot was too hot. Always best for him to let hot drink and hot food cool down, or he was liable to burn his tongue. Again.

"Name's Owen," he said to the man. "Owen Mason. From Ared'luin. Little town some ways from here. Caint say I've run 'cross too many people heard of it. Seems like we each come a long way to meet here, huh?"

He blew on the tea in the cup again.

And glanced at the woman to get a good look at her for the first time. "And what might--" His brows jumped up. "Ho-lee-shit."

It took a moment for the look of surprise to fade and he blinked a few times as it did. "Oh, uh, pardon the cursin, ma'am, it's just..." He waved his palm in front of his face, making a big circle. "I wasn't expectin all that, no offense. It just look like you been through hell and back, is all. Caught me..." A little embarrassed laugh. "Caught me off guard, I guess."

 

[Finn]

The petite blonde girl hadn't expected it to work, well, work at all. And so good. Neck craned as she looked at the sky. How far had she gone? Back of her palm swept across her nose, fingers traveling up to tuck wind-swept hair behind ears.

Adjusting the pack on her back, her boots turned toward the sound of voices.

Walking as quietly as she could, she peeked behind some of the foliage, mottled-blues scouting the area. She would've been completely stealthy if it hadn't been for the sudden rumbling protest of her hungry stomach.

 

[Huang Tien]

The stranger had just removed another handleless tea cup from the knapsack tied across his chest when the stranger yelped, which caused the stranger to wince a bit. The man was certainly expressive, not to mention a bit loud. As the man spoke, the stranger's eyes had been uncovered from his straw hat, and were now intently looking towards the man. If one was paying close attention to the stranger's gaze, they would notice that the stranger wasn't looking at the man, but rather was watching the tea cup in his hands. Every time the liquids from within the cup swayed, the man seemed to shift with it. It was rather amusing for one to watch, if they had been paying attention,

After the tea had presumably settled down in the man's hand, the stranger would let out a breath of air, lowering his head and thus the straw hat would go back to covering his face. In the next moment, the stranger would reach for the teapot once more and pour another cup of tea. This time, it was presumably meant for himself, as once he returned the tea pot to it's sitting position he raised his tea cup up with one hand and began supporting it with the other. It became pretty obvious that the man was some sort of tea enthusiasm, as he began to waft the smell of the tea towards his nose, waiting for the tea itself to cool down a bit.

The stranger was about this close to drinking it too, until he was interrupted by a sound that was all too familiar to his ears. This caused the stranger to lower his tea, a frown could be spotted crossing over his mouth, followed by a quiet sigh. The man didn't seemed all too keen at the sound, perhaps for a variety of reasons.

Nevertheless, the stranger reached over and placed the tea he had been holding next to the patch of ground next to the man. The stranger would then proceed to sit up into a crisscross position himself, facing the two newcomers, with both his hands on a knee. After getting adjusted, the man looked over to the direction the stomach noises had occurred, lifting his head to reveal his eyes once again. Had whoever been in the bushes been looking, they would seem him gaze in their direction with a rather expecting look...​

 

[Ynsidia]

The exclamation from Mason would have offended her under other circumstances, perhaps, but she understood that she looked rather worse for wear. Ynsidia had to clean the bandages almost daily, dip them in a healing salve and put them back on so her skin would heal over in the sections where it had been practically shredded off. It also staved off infection.

Crashing an ink dragon probably should have been lethal. Ynsidia was lucky in the strangest of ways...

"I have been through a Hell of sorts, sir, and here I am back, so your a quite correct," Ynsidia managed with a smile.

She looked about at the idyllic scene and sighed.

"I am glad to be here, even if I am practically mummified at the moment." she added, looking back to to Mason when the growl of hunger sounded.

Ynsidia flushed, and brought a bandaged hand to her mouth.

"That wasn't me, I can assure you!" she deflected quickly, looking both ways as if trying to identify the direction from which the sound came.

It couldn't have been her. She'd eaten some stale bread earlier, but she couldn't spot anyone else but the other two men and it was impolite to accuse either of them. Flustered, she sipped her tea again, realizing her host was staring in a particular direction intently. Ynsidia followed the path of his eyes to their destination, and set her tea down gently. Her left hand strayed to her left side where her Rapier was worn. She would have to move it to the right going forward for proper drawing.

"Who's there?!" Ynsidia called, voice steel, ready for immanent conflict.

She was no stranger to violence, but after Pandemonium, she felt almost intimate with the engaging of it. She did leave something of herself back in that horror story.

A great deal of her remaining innocence...

 

[Owen Mason]

Well, at least she wasn't angry. Just one of those moments of blurtin' something impolite out, was all. The kind his mother would've whacked him clean across the back of his head for. More out of a sense of fairness to his younger brother and older sister than anything else. Didn't matter if he couldn't feel pain. Say something unbecoming, get whacked. Fair as fair could be.

Been through a Hell of sorts, alright. The juxtaposition between how the young woman looked and the pleasant scenery all around them...well, who could blame him for his slip in manners there?

Owen took a sip of the tea. Carefully, since it was still steaming a bit. And the silent man sure was keen on something. Staring awful hard at the tea cup, seemed. Expensive, maybe? Heirloom? Mighty gracious of him to share if that were the case. Best treat it with care.

He was about to take another sip. Then looked back to the young woman with a quizzical face.

"Mummified? Caint say I heard'a such a thing. That have somethin' to do with--"

Well hot damn, somebody was hungry.

The young woman seemed bashful about it. Owen grinned and shook his head. If only he had a crown for every time his younger brother Lienhard had said somethin' to that exact effect. Buy out Alliria and half the Reach with that kind of coin. His sister Cecilia was the opposite. Got all quiet and made to look innocent and glanced about as if tryin' to convince those who might look her way that, oh no, nothin' happened, what ever were you talkin' about?

"I ain't so assured," Owen said with a grin.

Owen, as it happened, tended to point the finger at Lienhard or Cecilia when something embarrassing or untoward happened. All in good fun. They had their jokes and he had his. Maybe it was a bit impolite to act as such in the company of a stranger, but he'd already screwed up once and little levity wasn't so bad. Next time he returned to Ared'luin he'd march straight back to mother and let her whack him one for it.

Then the young woman reached for her weapon.

Owen came close to dropping his tea cup, some of the hot liquid spilling out. Thought maybe he ought to have been more polite. Meant a lot to her, clearly.

But then he saw her looking elsewhere. Not at him. Toward some trees and bushes. Well, there was that, at least. Didn't upset her. A positive.

Still, something was apparently amiss.

"Easy," Owen said in general. Slow and calm in his Luin drawl. Holding out his hands in a gesture for peace. "Everybody, easy now..."

 

[Huang Tien]

The stranger maintained his gaze upon the bushes, though it did not distract from the conversation. The stranger had wanted to hear more about this "hell" the young girl spoke of, but it seemed the rustling of the bushes had caused some sort of defensive reaction from said girl.

The stranger glanced over to his two "guests" and observed a weapon was in play. This apparently did not impress upon the seated stranger, but he would only look down and sigh.

The stranger could not judge her on her paranormal, he knew not of her story. However, what he did know was that at the moment at least, they were not in much danger. He would see to that personally if it were ever to come to fruition.

While the commotion continued, the stranger would quietly reach into his frontal knapsack and grab somthing. But the item in question remained for the moment, a mystery, hidden within the stranger's balled fist. The stranger would then proceed to bring his free arm around in front of him, holding out the back of his forearm like a platform. Within the next moments, the stranger had released the contents onto his back arm: It was a tiny pebble

Looking over to his two "guests", he raised his flat arm up to his face. Closing one eye, the stranger plotted a course to which he wanted to...send the pebbles Bringing his other hand to the pebble, the stranger quickly flicked the pebble with his free hand, launching it towards the girl's head.

Were the pebbles hit, the girl would feel nothing more then somthing bounce off her body from behind her. Were she to turn her attention back to the stranger, he would simply gaze upon her with an indifferent look.

"Sit" Was the only thing the stranger said in his monotone voice, gesturing towards the patch of ground the girl had occupied not a moment ago.​

 

[Finn]

Blue eyes widened from behind the greenery as not one but three sets of eyes turned in her general direction.

And the glint of a knife.

The girl thought about running and huffing it outta there. She was easily out-numbered and out-matched. Disappearing would be faster and easier. Only, she was out of supplies. And she was hungry. And she was thirsty.

Gulping, she eased her way out of her hiding spot and in direct view of the other three.

"I just came for some water," chin tipped toward the banks of the river beyond them. "Not looking for any trouble."

The girl still had full confidence she could outrun them and lose them in the woods if she needed to.

 

[Ynsidia]

Ynsidia visibly relaxed, looking ashen for a moment. She had jumped readily to the steel at her side. Immediately assuming the woman was hiding like some sort of bounder. Not long ago Ynsidia felt something of reluctance in even drawing her Rapier. Where she'd been of late had changed her fundamentally on every level. Presenting arms felt necessary...reactionary.

That voice that had spoken to her mind there in Pandemonium was right in the end on some level. Ynsidia bit her lower lip at the thought.

"My apologies, ma'am. I have a water skin, you may drink of it if you wish."

And Ynsidia presented the vessel to the woman, then tossed it to her. She took the curious man's first uttered word as a command meant for her, and sat back down quickly, hands on her knees. Looking down at her steaming tea, Ynsidia was trying not to feel too embarrassed about rushing to conclusions.

She was usually only this tense under extreme pressure, but she wasn't at the present, so why so twitchy?

"What the Hells has happened to me?" she thought to herself wordlessly.

 

[Owen Mason]

Hey. Nice shot, stranger. Man was handy was pebbles. Shoot, had he been superstitious Owen might've thought the pebble was the cause for the bandaged woman settling down. Sure seemed like it. The owner of the hungry stomach stepped out of the foliage and instead of drawing her weapon she tossed the short blonde woman a waterskin. Mystic pebbles, alright. Would that be something?

That or, far more likely, the man in yellow's first spoken word. He seemed to fit perfectly the mold of a man who was quiet, cordial, and awfully good at keeping the peace if need be, what with that bladed staff of his sticking out of the ground over yonder.

Wasn't it funny, though? How the man in yellow chose this spot of all spots to sit down, and it would just so happen that three strangers should walk by and sit and join him and each with some manners about them? Rare, something like that, especially out on the open road and countryside. World occasionally had some pleasant surprises.

The blonde woman seemed a tad skittish. Couldn't blame her. Rare was rare for a reason.

Maybe a little humor. Lighten things up.

"Not lookin for trouble, huh? Alright, everybody get her!"

A full second passed. Owen grinned. "I'm jus' teasin. Maybe have yourself a seat there, friend. 'Less you got somethin against tea."

Speaking of, Owen blew on his again and took another sip. What was that, like butter and something? Hadn't tried it before. Then again, hadn't had very much tea before.