Open Chronicles The Lamb That Ran

[Agatha Lumaris]

Location: Dornoch
Time of Day: Evening to Dusk

Agatha paid for her spot in the cargo hold of a creaky, battered old trading ship docked on the wild coast she had been roaming for the past several months. She didn’t have a name for the place she has been surviving in, but she’s sick of it, and however far it is from the School she escaped from – it is too close. She wants a whole sea between her and that cursed place. The trading captain with onyx eyes and a wry grin was happy enough to take her stolen gold pieces as payment– he did not ask any questions, but it’s obvious a young girl and her horse shouldn’t, by any logical means, have that much wealth in their possession. She told him that’s all she has, she lies, but he either took it for truth or just didn’t have the energy to deal with her dead body for what little she might have left in her saddle bags.

“Down there.” he pointed a fat finger, laughing underneath his gnarled black beard. Agatha led her horse down to the hold with the other livestock and exotic animals dangling in cages or tied in neatly lined stalls.

“Settle, settle.” Agatha gently whispers to the white horse, who’s soft brown eyes dart from shadow to shadow, snorting through wide nostrils. The mare doesn’t like the darkness, or the other animals, some of which would maybe eat her if they could get the chance. There is binding magic in place, and odd magical spells that have some creatures lulled to sleep. To a horse, it feels unnatural and very dangerous.

They spent two long weeks this way, cramped, starving, barely able to breathe the foul air. But finally, Agatha could hear the crew screaming above her, the crew member's feet shuffling more than they had in seventeen days. “Oh finally..” Agatha exhaled, pushing her forehead into her mare’s white mane. The mare responded with a low sound of relief, swishing her tail and shifting her hard feet on the wooden floor.

“Out!” a crew member barked at her as he swung the latch open, but she is already bursting up the ramp, mounted on her mare and ready to leap off the ship and for the dock.

“Ha, THANKS!” Agatha brings the mare round once her feet land on the sturdy dock planks, the girl waving goodbye with a whistle to the cursing crew left back on the ship. She had paid her fare, so they wouldn’t hunt her, and they fed her just enough – they will not be enemies, but surely they’re no kind friends either.

The half breed girl trotted her mount into the nearest part of town looking for a decent meal, a bath, and a good stable for her horse.​

THE IRON EEL
TAVERN & INN​

She reads the sign twice, just to be sure that the menacing symbol on its face was actually what it said it was – a coiled eel with a sword through its head and body. An odd choice for an Inn sign, but it looks welcoming enough anyway. Around back of the inn, the barn is lit up, a stable hand ready to take her horse. “Brush her well, feed her extra,” she hands him a gold coin that is bigger than most, his eyes light up and he scoops it up greedily, taking the horse's reins.

“Yes, of course, miss.” and he led the horse away while Agatha turned to enter the Inn.

----

Agatha pushes the heavy oak door open. It's noisy inside, but cozy, and smelling of good food. “Evening.” the barkeep greets her with what was probably a usual grin, watching to see where she may go. “A room? A drink?”

“Both.” she lets a cordial grin pull at her lips, flicking her green eyes over the man. “A bath too?”

“It will take us some time to prepare it, but of course, extra fee of course. And the stable too.” he nods politely, as any barkeep might when tallying up your dues. Agatha hands him the fees, and some extra too. Stolen gold is always easy to spend. “Something to eat while you wait, then?”

“Your stew, big bowl, mug of ale, please.” her graceful tongue speaks the language easily, smiling and tossing a few more pieces of payment on the wooden bar.

She hadn’t bothered to look around, too hungry, too thirsty – too focused on a sliver of relief. She eats her stew quickly, every drop down. She chugs the ale - this is the first time any ale has ever touched her lips and she devours it gulp by gulp. A loud belch escapes her throat without warning and she covers her mouth with a gasp. “S..sorry” She looks around her, turning red, but cracking a smile at herself as she turns away and gestures for another mug full from a grinning barkeep. She wasn’t sure if anyone around her cared, whether they were disgusted or laughing. It’s most likely they are grizzled traders, pirates or wenches, and they didn’t hear or don’t care at all. Still, she sips the next mug of ale more carefully, and tries to keep her bright emerald eyes from wandering the room.

​

 

[Hiei]

"New in town," came a voice to the side of the young lady at the bar, it was breathy, and the common it spoke was accented with the dialect of the Erdeni. "You look, new," the young man said with a smirk. He sat before a small earthen bottle, a smaller clay cup that matched the purple glaze of the bottle there in one of his hands, the second cup turned down. "Drink new too," he added, and raised up his small cup to his lips, and took a long sip, and let the cup back down with a small clack.

"What brings you to Dornoch, stranger?" He asked, as he turned over the small clay cup beside the bottle of rice wine, and poured a cloudy white drink there into it. He slid it over to the newcomer, and bowed his head toward it in welcome. "Drink like a local, and you might avoid too much attention," his head gently tilt back, and there in the darker corners of the Iron Eel, were a crowd of rowdy young men, busy playing a game with stone tiles, a wide square of the brick-like game pieces stacked there between them, almost like a fortress they hid behind as they cast suspicious glances at one another.

One of the young men glanced up and seemed to stare at the blonde haired woman with the pointy ears. He smirked, and nudged one of his friends, who looked up and smiled too.

The dark haired young man at the bar poured a second drink into his own cup.

Agatha Lumaris

 

[Yffry]

A loud belch escapes her throat without warning and she covers her mouth with a gasp. “S..sorry”

"Better out than in," muttered Desmene, who sat hunched over the bar with a half-empty bottle of red and a wooden mug beside it. She smirked to herself and refilled her up.

New in town, came a voice to the side of the young lady at the bar

Desmene went quiet, but remained where she was at the bar. When human men approached strangers at the bar whilst pointing out that they were strangers, they rarely came with good intentions.

A very young elf who had a horse and demanded a bath was likely wealthy, but Desmene caught no sign of an escort.

 

[Vaalkar Tol-Lithrum]

As The Iron Eel bustled with life as the sun set, and everyone slowly made their acquaintances with each other there was a loud scrounging of horses approaching, stomping up mud and neighing as a few Orcs tied their steads down, and made their entrance. Though, the only one to actually come inside leaned into the doorway to sit, wearing a sash around his chest, almost robe-like with intricate geometric shapes, akin to the bright blue markings that scattered across his body. Thick tufts of hair were braided and hung low down his shoulders and back, taking a few steps inside it was a sure tell to the sheer weight of the Orc.

As he made his way to the bar he nodded toward the barkeep, and she knew him by his face. She spoke out a slow, and cheery “Vaaaaaalkaaar.~” with a slight ring of a flirt somewhere in there. He smiled and simply said “The usual.” in that deep, gritty tone of voice that most Orcs shared, but he seemed more akeen to common then the usual foreigner. Though, as he sat, he peered his eyes over toward Agatha Lumaris, tipping his head to the side with a noticeable befound expression as the halfbreed downed her ale and stew.

He let out a laugh, moving to tip his goblet of ale toward her. Speaking out “You must have some spirit, drinking like a troll.” he said in a humorous tone that was hard to discern due to his tone of voice, but it was there. He let a small shake of his head escape him as he sat back, the chair yearning under the sheer pressure of the Orc. As Hiei began speaking, the Orc silenced himself listening and drinking his ale occasionally.

Though eventually, he mustered up “Dornoch. Everyone here has something to hide, apparently. This far into the Steppes.” in response to the Erdeni-speaking man.

Casually glancing at Desmene occasionally, curious.

Desmene Agatha Lumaris Hiei

 

[Percy Slayer]

Percy hopped into the promising Inn, careful to have a good hold on his satchel. He was a thief, a magician of the arts of trickery, and knew better than to idly walk in without a hand protectively over his coin. He saw a small crowd gathered around a lady, talking to each other, one man's voice particularly grumble-y, with a hint of humor.

"Curious," Percy mumbled, as he had never seen an Orc up close before. He kept his distance, but circled the man before deciding to come up to the small group, when the delicate lady lets out a belch. He can't contain the giggle that quickly escapes his lips. "I apologize," he says between laughs, childish giggles escaping him still. The young bun cant be more than seventeen years of age, yet his small bells of laughter sound more like a little girl.

 

[Agatha Lumaris]

When his voice breaks her inner monologue, her vibrant eyes snap to him, and her cheeks gain a bit of a rosier complexion. She blinks, as if a little stunned anyone can see her – she’s been a ghost for so long now, silent and ignored like the mists between the trees. She stumbles over her answer, “Yes.” is all she can get out in full, the rest of it is just sounds and shortened breath. She is exposed, not literally, but that doesn’t matter. It feels the same as being naked in front of everyone; she feels so painfully obvious.

Another beside her makes a comment in jest, ‘Better out than in’ and this makes Agatha giggle a little bit, betraying her youth if her looks didn’t do so already. She can feel the woman’s eyes on her, but doesn’t look at her.

The sudden awkwardness of herself starts to infiltrate her thoughts. Her belly full, a mug of ale down, she feels an ache in her abdomen that has nothing to do with food or drink. Luckily the ale will kick in soon, and the anxiety will dull a bit. “Is it that obvious, then?” her gentle voice spills through pink lips, crinkled in a grin, responding to the man’s advice. The ale has begun to bleed into her veins now and some false courage straightens her proverbial spine. “Oh, …just needed to get away, I suppose.” She sips with a wider grin. She better slow down, another mug of alcohol might tip her over backwards in her stool. She leaves her answer at that.

She raises a glass to the pair of young men looking across the room to her, presumably making jokes at her expense. There wasn’t much she could do now, but embrace it. She is a sore thumb, sticking out, throbbing and bruised amongst all the other perfectly straight fingers stretched out around her.

Behind her a slight commotion made her aware that someone else was coming into the tavern. It wouldn’t be of notice if it weren’t for the stranger’s hulking mass. The floor creaked, some of the patrons hushing to look him over, the blond half breed struggles to keep her attention on her mug and the stranger she’s speaking to. One of the barkeeps speaks up, clearly recognizing the Orc. A shiver sends down her spine when he looks at her, but she doesn’t let it be known. Yet another set of eyes on her, she takes a deep breath, “Oh yes.” she giggles, “Spirit, I do not lack.” she sips again, trying to keep whatever confidence (albeit drunken) she might have. She nearly chokes with his next comment, but she swallows a hard sip instead. She doesn’t exactly know where she is, how far in, or what society she’s suddenly thrust herself into – but it certainly has to be better than where she came from. She’s never seen an Orc, never spoken to one, but he seems to know she’s got things to hide already.

And then, to her relief, something interrupts her needing to respond, or so she hopes. Hopping through, he certainly gets her attention from the others to himself as he focuses on the Orc and laughs at Agatha’s belch. She giggles in return, a playful thing, he seems, “Hello there.” she sips again, almost half way through her second mug.




Hiei Desmene Vaalkar Tol-Lithrum Percy Slayer

​

 

[Percy Slayer]

"Hello," he says back politely, and smiles with such brightness, he seemed like a kid that had gotten sweets. He turned to address the Orc, who was twice the size of the small rabbit. "Curious," he said again, and looked the Orc up and down. "Sorry, I've never seen your species before. Orcs are cool." he added after some thought, and lifted a small coin off of him, and showed it to the orc, tossing it into his hand, before turning to the lady again. "I've got my magic tricks, what do you have to be of such wealth?" He said, suspicious rising that she was not unlike him, a master of the sleight of hand and tricks galore.

He eyed the group in the far corner of the Inn, and childishly stuck out his tongue, teasing them. "You've attracted some attention, fair lady." He says. "Im not sure if it's good or bad."

 

[Agatha Lumaris]

Her eyebrows furrow when he asks such a bold question of a stranger. His presence seems more of a hovering to her now, his eyes lingering on her with a scrutinizing glint she wasn’t exactly keen on. She shifts in her stool, her grin melting to a half-smirk, sipping her emptying ale cup. “I’ve got my own tricks too.” she draws in a deep breath, a bit of that ale induced courage pouring from her rosy lips, “My wealth, real or imagined, is of no concern to anyone.” her white teeth show as they grit just a little, but his next words come through just in time for her to not have to say anymore on the subject – or so she hopes.

“Ah,” she giggles, “It seems so.” she shifts uncomfortably in her seat again. She has a warm bath awaiting her in the next hour or so, and it couldn’t come any sooner. She sips delicately at the ale disappearing from her cup, feeling quite passed buzzed now.​

 

[Hiei]

Hiei smirked, a part of him impressed by the young woman's well guarded responses, and gave her a nod to show his respect. The orc man joined next, and gave his bit of wisdom. To this, Hiei nodded in agreement. "To be sure, much and more," he said to orc, letting the last word stretch with knowing. He had heard his name before. Vaalkar, more than a few rumors went about the city. The proud scion of the Kuulvar, turned chieftain, not long past. "Where there are people, there is intrigue, opportunity," the young man added coolly.

His dark eyes turned back to the young woman, "Wind spirits aid your flight, then, stranger," he added, and raised his small cup of rice wine up to her before he took another drink.

A bunny man soon appeared, all giggles and merriment, and Hiei drank quietly as he listened to their interactions.

"You may not drink like a local," he spoke to the young woman. "But you at least drink with one," he smirked, and nod his head toward the Kuulvari. "And a big guy," he looked back at the ruffians, who seemed to have lost interest at the crowded happenings of the bar. At least for now. "Tough company makes for a tougher target," he let on, and took another sip of his wine.

Agatha Lumaris Percy Slayer Vaalkar Tol-Lithrum