Private Tales Wild Elysium

[Mara Tillerman]

At first Mara started at the unexpected motion of the surrounding room, her eyes wide. Maybe there was some truth to the rumor of Master Brambleshell's hut being alive after all!

She looked up at Brambleshell meekly, her lips stretched thin as she wrestled with her inner embarrassment. The dark depths of the testudo's old, curious eyes were not like the judgmental glares of Mara's peers, but rather an inviting pool of compassion that disarmed the steel trap Mara envisioned around herself.

"Well... I went to the armory to find something for a friend and...there was this - AH-CHEE!! - *sniff* enormous armored brute that attacked me and... I had to run and hide in the... erm... weapons racks. You see, there's just enough space between the frame to - AH-CHEE! - fit, but one of the swords came down like a swinging blade trap! Got me right on the head." Her voice had the slightest hint of excitement to it, as if she was recalling an exciting story. She even motioned with her arm as if it was a blade cutting downward as she recalled the moment of her wounding.

"Erm... and then Bebin found me and we came here," she added with a shrug. She smiled sheepishly at the testudo and scratched an itch on her arm.

Bebin Theros

 

[Bebin Theros]

Master Brambleshell's eyes watched with a deep calm. Her head nary moving as Mara recounted her tale. A gentle bob here and there to mark that she followed along, and a slow retraction of her leathery neck when Mara mimed a guillotine. A bubble of laughter roused in the old testudo's throat.

When the tale ended, Brambleshell gave a nod. A simple gesture, given more weight for every wrinkle that creased her mud-green skin. "It sounds like the makings of a valiant quest," she said with a humorous brightness there in the deep pools of her blue eyes.

"Or a whole heap of trouble," came the gruff speech of Bebin.

Brambleshell turned to meet the stocky figure of the knight. "Pah, are you really one to talk, Bebin?"

A sly grin curled across the be-turbaned knight's lips. He put down a brown glass vial, and a few bandages. "To help with the itching," he said to Mara.

Brambleshell gave shuffled over, and took the bandages up. She would dress the wounds with a quiet humor. If Mara didn't press.

Bebin slunk to the side, and rest against a counter, with his arms folded, and sank into his usual silence, his eyes on the gentle sway of the herbs that hung from the rafters.

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

Valiant quest. It had a nice ring to it, even if it was pretty far from the truth.

Mara smiled despite herself, even chuckled at the bit of banter between Brambleshell and Bebin. It was admittedly a little nice to hear someone teasing the serious and often daunting figure that was Syr Bebin.

She would allow Brambleshell to dress the wound - it was difficult for her to see, and their conversation sparked a bit of curiosity.

"Did Bebin get into a lot of trouble when he was a squire?" she asked secretly.

Bebin Theros

 

[Bebin Theros]

Bebin made a sound like gravel come rumble across the chords of his throat.

Brambleshell's eyes squinted, ever the happier as her hands wound the bandages around the wound. "Did he ever,"

Bebin shut his eyes, stand offish and wound tight. Yet, for whatever reason, he remained by the squire, and the attending Master.

"As sour and serious as he is today, though the direction of his energies flowed in a different direction," The old testudo glanced over at the be-turbaned knight. "Arguing with Syr Ranveer and I over the proper way to channel your Magicks, venturing out on unsanctioned quests," she laughed.

Bebin grumbled. "It was a long time ago,"

"And you were young," Brambleshell agreed with a sagely nod. "Did not yet understand the value of patience, the importance of measured actions,"

Bebin smirked. "I suppose some of your lessons are still taking root,"

 

[Mara Tillerman]

"Unsanctioned quests?" Mara repeated back with a sly grin and bright eyes that begged for more. It was a relief knowing that she wasn't the only one who didn't always land on their feet. It made her imagine a younger (or at least smaller) version of Bebin sneaking around nabbing snacks and extra ammunition from Alduin. For some reason, she always imagined Master Alduin as the same age, as she imagined all testudi to be venerable and wise.

Of course, a lot of that wisdom passed completely over Mara's head. Patience was for old people.

Whatever was in the brown bottle, it stank, but it worked. The sniffling and itching had died down to just a little tickle in the back of her throat.

Still, a burning question remained. "Um... Master Brambleshell? Is your house.... alive?"

Bebin Theros

 

[Bebin Theros]

Brambleshell smiled at the squire's question. "The Hut," she said, with an air of scholarship. "Has been known to take a stroll from time to time,"

Bebin made a sound that was almost a laugh. "You've not seen it yet, Mara?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Brambleshell tut her tongue. "From time to time," she reminded him.

A smirk still upon his face. He closed his eyes.

"Holder of secrets," Brambleshell teased, and finished with the dressing. "There dear, that should take care of it, just be sure not to scratch it, or you'll agitate the spellwork," she warned.

"And change your bandages," Bebin said with a nod, and rose up from the countertop. Took steps toward the door. "We will speak of tonight's training, come the morning, Tillerman," his boots knocks softed against the old wood of the floor. The door creaked open, and came shut.

The walls of the room almost seemed to breath a sigh of relief when he was gone.

Brambleshell stirred, measured and steady as she put away bits and bobs.

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

"You've not seen it yet, Mara?"

"Erm... well... no..." Mara admitted, blushing and scratching her cheek. It was rather embarrassing to feel like she was missing out on something so obvious. Well... that and she remembered the time she and a few other squires were bouncing a leather ball off of the hut's walls. It could have been another hut! It must have been another hut. She hoped it was another hut.

"There dear, that should take care of it, just be sure not to scratch it, or you'll agitate the spellwork," she warned.

Mara smiled and nodded her appreciation. Try not to be itchy. Okay.

Her smile faded and a slight shiver ran up her spine at Bebin's parting words. Tomorrow would be another day, and one she was not at all looking forward to. First she'd have to face Bebin. Then she'd have to face Roki empty-handed. Tired as she was, she expected that she wouldn't find any sleep for what remained of the night.

Yet she supposed she couldn't sit in here forever, despite how comfortable and safe it felt. Brambleshell just had that grandmotherly aura about her - one that Mara found mysterious and welcome, considering she couldn't recall any warmth from her own grandparents.

She slowly rose from the chair and took up the extra bandages Bebin had given her with a sigh.

"I don't suppose you have any invisibility potions?"

Bebin Theros

 

[Roki]

Brambleshell went on about her tidying, as glass gently clinked against glass.

"A rare and valuable brew," she said with a hint of amusement. "I can give you a list, for components, if you would like, Mara," she slowed her hands as she placed the last bottle.

"Can even teach you how to brew the concoction," she nod, sure and unperturbed. Looked to the young Squire with her large and knowing eyes as her leathery head came still.

"But why would a squire need such a thing, so late at night?"

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

Mara's eyes brightened for a moment. She hadn't actually expected anything other than a firm 'no'! Late or early, she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity presented to her.

"Yes, please!" she said with as much eagerness as she could muster right now. She tried, and failed, to suppress a yawn, but she still stubbornly told herself that she was far too emotional to get any sleep tonight. She might as well accomplish something before Syr Bebin put her on latrine cleaning duty for the rest of her life.

"But why would a squire need such a thing, so late at night?"

She shrugged and smiled innocently (even if anyone who knew Mara would claim she wasn't capable of an innocent expression).

"You never know when a thing like that could come in handy! Might save my skin, one of these days."

...which might equate to avoiding humiliating conversations as much as blades.

Bebin Theros

 

[Roki]

"One of these days," the timeless Master nod, as her clawed hand found a neatly rolled piece of parchment. "But that is not tonight," her voice half laughed. Her eyes searched for something as her hands smoothed out the scroll. "How are your letters, dear?" she asked.

---

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

Damn. It was too much to ask for, she supposed.

"My.. letters? They're..." she shifted uncomfortably. She didn't want to tell anyone how much she struggled with reading and writing, particularly after the night she'd had. She cleared her throat as if she was about to sneeze again.

"Fine."

Roki

 

[Roki]

A nod, curt and simple, as her searching hand found that which it looked for. A stick of coal. With swift twift of hand, she scrawled out a list. The items listed there upon.

---

Root of Dreamwort
Flowers of Mothmallow
2 sprigs of lavender
2 Dried toad's eye
1 Octopus beak
A gnomes tears

---

A bright twinkle in the testudo's eye as she plucked the paper from the counter. "Then, this should be no trouble for you," she said warmly. "I believe the shop should have... enough supply stocked," she nod, slow as she offered the list.

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

She took the list with a smile and glanced at it. "Thanks."

What's an okt.... tuh... pus? Says it has a beak. Maybe it's some bird? she thought in confusion. She figured she'd ask Ilani about it later. She'd helped Mara write her note to Roki - maybe she'd help Mara out again, if only to get rid of her. That was usually what Mara depended on when asking her roommate for anything - or get a cute boy to ask her.

She slipped the scroll into her pocket, dropping the roll of bandage and quickly picking it up again on her way to the hut's door. "Thank you again, Master Brambleshell, and goodnight."

She paused in the doorway as if she'd just remembered something. "Um... goodnight hut," she whispered before darting off into the quiet garden outside, then across the dark courtyard toward her room. She wasn't quite awake at this point, but somehow she still managed to sneak into her room without waking Ilani.

With a defeated sigh, she collapsed on her bed to wait out the last few torturous hours until sunrise.

Roki

 

[Roki]

Come the morning, and Roki was grumbling as he helped the kitchens prepare for the early service.

Bags under his eyes, and a general disposition of being too tired to be there, slouched and shoulders drooped as he cut potatoes with a-

Thwack.

His eyes went wide. He looked down and saw red on his board. A blink.

"Ooh, that's a bad cut," Ronken said, once he noticed Roki's cutting had stopped.

Syr Melga's brow cocked. "Well, don't just stand there, you green onion!" she shout. "Get it bandaged up!"

---

Bandaged and cleaned, Roki looked down at his wrapped hand, head hung in shame.

"You're off cooking duty, kid,"

His eyes looked up, large.

"Second time, two services, take a week to get your head on straight," Melga nodded him out. "And go see the healer,"

Roki didn't argue, and left the Knoll's kitchen with a scrunched up brow, and tight lipped frown.

---

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

Mara was likewise wandering in a sleepless stupor the next morning. She wasn't even sure what duty she'd been assigned to that morning, only that she was glad it wasn't combat training. Instead, she was currently pushing a broom around the hallways in between bouts of nodding off.

"Rabbit! Put some hustle in your step! The dust is outrunning you at this rate!" One of the knights - she really wasn't sure which one - shouted helpfully. It wasn't Syr Bebin at least. That was a scolding set for later today.

With all of the tangle of unborn dreams milling around in her brain, she couldn't quite find the motivation to be concerned about whatever discipline was awaiting her for last night's transgression. Neither could she locate the right train of thought when she bumped the broom into someone tall and green near the door to the kitchen.

She stared, unblinking, at Roki and his bandaged thumb, her embarrassment failing to find her in the dense bank of mental fog rolling over the scenery. She hadn't done more than run a comb through her dark brown hair once and tie it up this morning. She'd lost the tie somewhere and now it ran loose in snarls and tangles around her face like a Medusa.

"Morn-" (yawn) "-ing..."

Roki

 

[Roki]

A bump. A stop, his tired golden eyes looked to see Mara. His lips pout, and his brows scrunched some. Then he saw the look of her, tangle haired and with that dreamy look behind the dark rings in her eyes. He laughed, a small warm thing.

"Mornin'" he smiled. "Missed you at the Weeping Woman last night," he added. Looked her up and down, his eyes full of worry. "What happened?"

 

[Mara Tillerman]

Mara looked back at Roki with all the liveliness of a basilisk victim for a long moment before she answered.

"Last night...? Oh, right. I went to go get your zip-plank," she explained with an unusual candor for her. "I didn't get it." She shrugged, narrowed her eyes at the broom as if she expected it to transform itself into the plank - which it stubbornly refused to do - then focused on his wounded hand.

"What happened to you?"

Roki

 

[Roki]

His eyes widened. "The zip-plank?" more worry poured into his voice. His head looked about, and his whole frame seemed to hunch forward, made himself smaller. "That was you?" he said in a hushed tone as his eyes came back to her.

She was awfully close.

And the way her hair was all, wild like, and tumbled about her dark eyes.

What happened to you?

His green cheeks flushed some. He cleared his throat and straightened up with a nervous laugh. "What? What do you mean?" he grinned, and hid his hurt hand behind his back.

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

Word had gotten around already, it seemed, much to Mara's dismay. But she hadn't the energy or patience to properly be disgruntled about it, so she only answered his inquiry with a second shrug. Well, yeah, it had actually been a pretty big deal, and undoubtedly Bebin was spending his morning trying to explain the mayhem left behind in the armory.

Roki leaned in, and she instinctively tightened her grip on the broom handle and tried to contain the smile that threatened to take over her face. Then he stood up again, hiding his hand behind his back as if she hadn't already seen the blooded bandages.

She rolled her eyes at him as the smile became smirk. "Oh, come on, Roki," she said with a soft chuckle, her eyes boring into his with the authority that only friends had with each other. "Let me see."

She held her free hand out and waited for him to acquiesce, as she knew he would.

Roki

 

[Roki]

A deep breath filled his lungs, and he clenched his hand. Felt the sting of the cut, and thought better of it.

"Alright," he let out, and offered up his cut left hand. The bandage was pooling dark red, and nearly wet through. "I, got a little careless," he confessed to her. "Still have the finger though!" he said with a dumb smile. Almost proud, until he realized how dumb that had sounded. "And, well, I need to check in at the Healer's Hut to keep it that way," he confessed.

Grumbled some as he thought about talking to Master Brambleshell again.

Then, an idea.

"Hey, why don't you come with me?" he said easy like. "Make seeing the old turtle a little less... nerve wracking," he laughed a little behind an uneasy smile.

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

Her eyes went wide and she cursed beneath her breath at the sight of Roki's mutilated hand. "Damn, that looks painful!" she whistled, somewhere between impressed and horrified.

"Hey, why don't you come with me?" he said easy like. "Make seeing the old turtle a little less... nerve wracking,"

"Yeah, sure!" she agreed readily, looking around for any supervising eyes before setting the broom aside and nodding towards the hut's direction to indicate they should get going. She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his admission. "Brambleshell, nerve wracking? Are we thinking of the same healer?

"I'll trade you if you want to talk to Syr Bebin instead..." she added almost under her breath as they made their way between clusters of structures built around the spacious northeastern courtyard. At its center was one of the vegetable gardens that helped supply the monastery kitchens, its rows kept neat by the labor of squires and a touch of life magick courtesy of a few Sworn. Right now they could see the bowed heads of squires picking weeds while others carried buckets of water to trellised beans and sprawling squash plants. Ari waved to them as they passed by. Mara returned the gesture meekly.

"Hey, have you ever seen the hut... erm... move?" she asked Roki with a skeptical glance at the walls of Brambleshell's hut as they strode towards its door.

Roki

 

[Roki]

He laughed at her reaction.

No matter how singed or banged up his antics left him, Mara never really seemed too bothered by it. Roki took it as a sense of trust the two had developed other over the years.

When she agreed, he squished into himself, like a happy frog. "Awesome," he croaked as he grinned, his eyes did a secondary sweep of the perimeter, and when the coast was clear, they scoot off.

"Oh, no, no way," he said in reference to the be-turbaned Dusker. "Keep the snake, I'll take the turtle," he huffed after a shiver. And they strolled on. "I mean," he began again. "Brambleshell just, I don't know," he shrugged, and rolled the fingers of his good hand. "I feel like she knows everything I do, and why I did or didn't do it!" His hands wooshed up. He winced, and clutched close his hurt hand.

Saw Ari, and gave her a cheerful wave.

The hut came into view. And he cocked his head. "Move?" he looked to Mara, as if to make sure he had heard her correctly. "No I..." he looked back to the hut. Simple as any hut could be.

Though when he squint his eyes enough, and things looked blurry, were those-

The door creaked open. And Syr Chadwyck spied the two of them. "Ho, if it isn't the Rabbit and the Onion," he grinned his cheesy grin. "Staying out of trouble I take it?" He had some potion in his hand, and slipped it into the pouch at his belt. "Though, unlikely, given the... combination,"

A slow and steady knock came from inside the hut, and soon, the large domed figure of Master Brambleshell loomed behind Syr Chadwyck. "Off with you now, Chadwyck, less I task you with some herb and fungi gathering,"

Chadwyck's eyes went wide, and he cleared his throat. Bowed cordially to the squires. "Untill next time," and he was off.

Brambleshell slow stepped forward, hunched beneath her shell, but no less impressive. "Well, Roki, I would say that I am surprised," her eyes turned to the little medusa that was Mara, and they twinkled bright. "But I am not," she turned in the doorway, and motioned them in as she shuffled.

The house ruffled its tiles.

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

Mara felt the same way about her future meeting with Bebin, now that she was awake enough for the dread to start dawning in her mind. Looking at the hut, she briefly considered if she would be able to hide in there somewhere. It was a fruitless thought, she knew; she figured that Bebin could find a needle in a barn full of hay while blindfolded and with his hands tied behind him.

"I feel like she knows everything I do, and why I did or didn't do it!"

Frowning, the squire considered her last conversation with the testudo and that odd sense of - she wasn't quite sure how to define it - understanding, perhaps? "I think I know what you mean. She kinda does."

There was certainly a mystery behind Brambleshell. That only made her more interesting by Mara's estimation. But if there was any such enigma behind the hut, it seemed that Roki was unaware of it. A pity, but a good story nonetheless. Especially if rumors started spreading about a hut that ate people. Like Sir Chadwyck, for example.

Mara subconsciously grimaced at the mention of her hated nickname, but knew better than to mention anything about it, so she only looked down at the path of pavers set into the hard dirt at her feet until Brambleshell spoke up from inside. She bowed in return as Chadwyck made his exit, quietly enjoying the fact that he seemed as intimidated by the turtle as Roki was.

She was pretty sure that the hut had shifted ever-so-slightly.

"After you," she said with a nudge of her elbow to Roki and a challenging smirk, like a child daring another to go into a haunted house.

Roki

 

[Roki]

Roki pout with a puff of his cheeks and furrowing of his brow. "How chivalrous of you," he grumbled. Sighed, smiled, and nudged her, playful, as he passed her by.

Inside the hut, the smell of bitter herb mixed with an earthy heat that wafted about.

"That is the second time this week you've wounded your hand, young Roki," Brambleshell spoke as she came to stop at her brewing station. A mortar and pestal there, with a sample of herbs layed neatly before her. "If you aren't careful, you won't have hands left to cook with," she shuffled away. "Mara, dear, can you crush up some of the components on the the table for an old turtle?"

The testudo ambled, slow in that way of testudos, and she pat a clawed hand on a nearby stool. "Over here, Roki, if you would,"

Roki's lips quirked with worry. A nervous laugh fell from his mouth. "Right, sure, of course," he muttered, as he moved over to sit down.

At the mortar and pestle, laid neatly, were bundles of tried mushroom, and herbs.

Mara might recognize the mushrooms as Imp Caps, elder berry leaves, and cuttings of swift root.

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

"Sure." Mara tried again to ignore the tickling harassment to her sinuses as she moved over to the table. Bundles of plants that were as esoteric to her as rune magic waited; she couldn't make heads or tails of their use, but she felt pretty confident in her crushing skills. She grabbed some of the dried leaves first, which looked the easiest to smash, and started pounding it into the heavy mortar with the stone implement.

All the while she pretended she actually knew what she was doing, sprinkling a mushroom cap or a bit of root into the mixture as she went. She didn't have the foresight to ask if the reagents were, in fact, supposed to be mixed together - she just hoped it would impress Roki.

Even as she tended to her own tasks, Master Brambleshell gave Mara a gentle correction to her technique and instructions on how to blend and crush the ingredients. Maybe Roki was right - maybe Brambleshell really did know everything. Mara wondered how long it took before someone could know everything.

"AH-CHEE!" the tickle in her throat erupted into a kitten-sized sneeze that made the mortar wobble ever-so-slightly.

Roki