Noct Yaegir The Warning in the Woods

[Marisa Thalren]

The Village of Neddas

Marisa nudged the council chamber door open with her hip because her arms were full: maps, notes, a half eaten apple, and a spear she probably should not have been carrying indoors.

She flashed the three council members her brightest smile, the kind that tended to disarm nervous guards and overconfident clients.

"Good evening! Afternoon? Whichever. Lovely time of day. I hear you have a monster problem."

The councilors looked at one another with the exhausted dread of people who had been arguing for hours. Marisa bounced on her heels, setting her things down on the nearest table with a clatter. Her spear slid, she caught it, spun it once, and propped it carefully against the wall.

"Right. So. Before we talk about fees and danger pay and hazard bonuses, I need two things from you. First: everything you know about this creature. Not rumors. Not my cousin's wife's brother saw it in a dream. Actual sightings, actual tracks, actual evidence."

Three slow blinks. One awkward cough.

She continued anyway, waving a hand airily.

"Second: snacks. Drawing up a proper contract requires food. And the trek up here was long. And one of your guards stole my last piece of jerky. Yes, I saw him. No, it wasn't subtle."

The oldest councilor cleared his throat. "Mistress Thalren, the beast has killed four people. We aren't sure it's safe to linger in the open at night."

Marisa leaned forward over the table, eyes shining.

"Exactly why you need a professional. Or several professionals if some of my colleagues turn up today. Lucky for you, I'm competent, and very reasonably priced. So. Tell me about your monster. And if someone could bring bread or something, I would be incredibly grateful."

She smiled again, warm and bright, as though death and danger were simply part of the evening program.

"Let's get your village sorted, shall we?"


OOC/ This is going to be a monster story with a twist. Open to a few more Noct!

 

[Callius Vox Mauricus]

To be woken by the morning chirp of birds and the sound of a busying village beyond the open window of a fair maiden, freshly bedded, was something Callius oft dreamed of and sometimes made a reality. This was his expectation, the fair maiden, yes, the morning chirp of birds and the sound of a busying, waking village, not so much. A low groan drifted from his lips, ribs popping as he roused and rubbed bleary eyes with the palms of calloused hands; another soft shove by the woman beside him, and he blinked, a quizzical look, a moment of clarity.

“Oh ffff-” The curse cut short by a leg being caught in the sheets as he rolled from the bed in a sudden half-conscious realisation, flesh against wood, a fresh groan of pain.

“Weren’t you supposed to meet the council milord?” The maiden asked, bunching the sheets across her vulnerability as the man who had absolutely forgotten her name busied with putting on his leathers the wrong way round. Sucking his teeth as he regarded the woman and weighed up whether his person even held value at the table, if Marisa even needed him. He could get used to being called Lord.

“Well of course I’ll be at the meeting, they’ll be waiting on my expertise, skill, my knowledge, sometimes it’s best to arrive late, so as not to seem as though one takes the job too seriously,” Callius forced a smile as he fastened his belt and threw on his tunic, his sword was thrown over one shoulder and a quick, chaste kiss was given to his fair maiden, a flash of teeth in a charming smile and a practiced false swagger, “Do not forget the Obberwack beast I slayed, nor the nefarious Nilhara on the Isles of Sheketh, I’ll have many more tales to tell upon my return.” He assured her as she fastened his cuirass and tightened the straps.

___

By the time Callius arrived at the council chambers, he was red-faced and puffing, but a mere few moments to get his composure, and he pushed the doors open with a nonchalant dip of his head to all present, casting a wary eye to Marisa and hoping upon all six of his Gods that he had not missed anything too important. Like the whole meeting. Not the first time, most definitely not the last.

“Greatest apologies for my delay, councillors," he offered to those present, tightening the strap on his sword, “The outskirts of town are secure, and all is well.” He assured them, lying through his teeth and subtly digging some sleep from the corner of one of his eyes with a thumb, “Please, by all means, continue.” He swept a curt bow and dropped himself into one of the chairs, kicking his plated boots onto the table and reclining, loosing a low, slow breath. If all went well, he would have nailed it and they’d be none the wiser to his tardiness.