Rivalries, Races, Rewards (Alexander and Applepoisoneer)

[Alexander]

The sound of his leather gloves rubbing against themselves ripped through the air after a silence fell, his fist gripping tightly at nothing but itself. "Fresh out?" He repeated back to the clergyman, as if he expected the answer to change the second time, like the man might scramble off into a back storeroom and find exactly what he had come here for and hand it to him on a silver platter. Free of charge, of course, he thought as his mind wandered. Trison could nearly feel the spit pooling in his mouth as each moment passed.

Brown eyes stared at the fellow before him, an un-pleased look etched onto his face. His lips twitched, shifting his chin and the black stubble at the tip, matched by unkempt strands atop his head. He might have preferred a razor, so he could be rid of it altogether, both from his face and up top, but a band or three in his hair, strategically placed, still managed to keep the stuff away from his eyes and out of mind when he was away from town. Besides, a whetstone only kept so many blades sharp, and he preferred his safety to comfort. He still tallied it mentally on his list of things to do, before he exited the walls of town at least.

Trison was a human, as many fellows in this part were, though his aunt would often claim that a distant great-grandfather of his was a giant, or an ogre, or something similarly wild, that matched his brash nature, much like his father before him. He never believed it for a moment, but a partner once decided for him it was true from the grunts and sounds that he made while prowling the wilderness. Funny, it was, how the tale never seemed to come up with regards to one of the females of his family, just to those with a strained temper that could only belong to a man. That final thought brought him back to reality, aided by a voice addressing his impatience.

"Yes, sir." The reply came, in a voice that came with a trained patience. Trison would have more luck preventing the sun from rising the next morning than to get this man to waver. "If you had come yesterday, there might barely have been enough for the amount you want, but by noon-time today a lass had the last of it." Their business, or lack of it, complete, Trison turned and headed out, only to be followed by a suggestion to him to offer a prayer before he left. "Aye", he thought, perhaps he might pray that the temple of the God of harvest might keep a damned bottle or two of Glaucian Rosehip oil handy for their ceremonies, if not a fellow in need like himself. He might have settled for a small vial. If desperate, he might have even accepted any sign at all from the man that they had some they wouldn't formally part with, as many deals' beginnings lie part in admission and part in refusal, until the right pressure is found, and finally more sound heads prevail against harsh terms of a bargain left uncompleted. But his fortunes abandoned him for now, waiting for another day.

 

[Applepoisoneer]

What a steal!, thought Lilliana. The sky was growing ever darker, bathed in the too temporary purple glow of twilight. Her footsteps and the tink, tink, tink of the beaker tied to her belt were the only noises that interrupted the nocturnal melody. Though it was barely a trickle, she'd come away with the last of the rosehip oil within several hundred miles. She knew she would have to use it sparingly, but even a few drops in combination with birch root oil was sure to strengthen the consecration ritual. Only a few more components, and her staff would overflow withpower!

But it was growing too dark to see. Her quest would have to wait another night. Finding an Inn would have to be her priority before anything else. There was one settled on the boarder between the two nearest townships. She'd take her refuge there and set out again in the morning.

 

[Alexander]

After an event like that, the need for some sort of relaxation and relief was clear. The letters on the sign at the side of the town's shaver filled his vision, as if it were enlarged and calling to him, but finally Trison's eyes were torn away from it as his frustration brewed inside his head. He was quickly realizing how much he hated this town. Ferryment wasn't terribly much more than a hamlet, but it was the littlest settlement in the so-called summer region, where the harvests lasted late into the year. With such a long time to produce, and a small population that might use it in ceremonies, he had thought that this might be the best place to locate some product of Glaucian Rosehips. He was even right, it would appear, at least until a day ago, when his luck had fouled up. His only option now, it seemed, was to knock at each farmer's door as he made his way back to greater civilization, hoping that one of them had stashed some of the seasonal crop rather than gifting it to the gods' establishment as was tradition. His fist curled again at the thought, knowing it would take as long to travel to each farmhouse, as to simply waste the year away and wait for the next harvest.

Having decided he could do without the services of the shop before him, he turned to return to his rented room. But even that brought bad thoughts, as he recalled arriving yesterday, and deciding to treat himself to a drink or three to rest before his business, and those three turned to dinner as well, and dinner turned into a night's sleep. No, he would not be a patron of anywhere in this town any longer, he settled his mind, and did little more than gather his gear before heading off out of town. He cursed to himself, having gotten nowhere this last week, except his purse was a bit lighter, his mood was more foul, his list of tasks remained exactly as uncompleted as before, and he even swore that the snow on the path was a bit deeper than before. He kicked at the nearest pile in frustration, doing little more than wetting his boots.

He was at home in the wild, the type of man who would never lose his way, but his skills were unnecessary here. There were several sets of tracks, of people and of carts, all coming or going the same way. The town became smaller, fading away to a small dot, and then vanishing from sight completely as he traversed the snow-covered farmlands. Travel was slow, however, with the path barely cleared, and the sun soon began to vanish in the same manner as the town. He worried about having to dig out a patch off of the road to lay his tent, but one tiny bit of fortune decided to smile on him this day. As the sky grew darker, a spot in the distance began to light up and glow, a few fires lighting a safe haven in the distance. Trison patted at his side, and feeling that his pouch was not in danger yet of going empty, decided that a nice warm bed inside would suit him better tonight. His pace hastened, less they close their doors before he could reach it.

 

[Applepoisoneer]

Lilliana found herself under the roof of the Rosewood Inn. She payed her fee and kicked off her boots in front of the massive fireplace. She spread the skirts o her half-gown to warm the fronts of her thighs and knees. Her long, green locks were thrown over the back of the wingback chair, still damp with the snow that fell from heavy branches.

She undid the belt she wore her assortment of vials and pouches from and loaded it carefully into her bag. Since she wasn't traveling any further during the night, it was safe to let them rest in her leather napsack.

 

[Alexander]

The girl had enough time to relax, and let her skin get nice and toasty from the fireside blaze. The oversized chimney seemed to be a big gathering point, with plenty of others to each of her side. She could have chosen to get lost in any of three conversations all at once, or even a set of hands strumming lazily against a lute, producing a soft tune, until a steamy, brothy soup was brought to the tables behind for dinner. A few travelers had passed in after her, but one in particular was rather loud and rowdy, interrupting the dinner meal being served.

"What do you MEAN, no rooms left?" A hand fell heavily against the wooden counter, causing a loud, distinctive banging. "Isn't that you entire business? I come for a bed, and you provide it! There are fewer people here than I have digits, and yet you are all out?" First it was Rosehips that were lacking, and now Rosewood that failed him much the same. He abhorred roses at this moment. The clerk provided excuses, about damage to some of the roof, and snow getting in. If Trison had the temper to listen, he might understand that taking one of them would mean freezing the night away. With the hole in the boards above letting the frigid air in, his skin might turn blue before the morning sun rose. Instead, his teeth were grinding enough to drown out the other man's voice. Only a squeal from his stomach was enough to bring him back to order.

"Errr... perhaps a meal, then?" Trison knew how to pick his battles. He could fuss and fight a whole day away, if he had been wronged badly enough, but his stomach was a soft spot for him. Few people enjoyed an empty belly, and he had battled it away often enough when he was young. He had just undertaken quite a hike, but only now was he realizing how famished he was. He knew that his skin was tough, he could survive the cold outside if left with no other choice, but his body would chill too easily without any food. The clerk took the coin that was slid to him, and Trison was pointed halfheartedly towards an empty spot with a full bowl and spoon. He wedged himself in, taking his place between a rather burly woman, practically hanging off of the arm of the man beside her, and younger-looking girl... er... he noticed the peculiar looking ears on her. An elf?

 

[Applepoisoneer]

Lilliana eyed the man who'd been seated next to her. Nothing about him looked familiar, though he was a human man and they sometimes tended to be faces in crowds to her more often than not. She may have walked by him a dozen times, and if he hadn't spoken a word to her, she wouldn't be able to pick him out.

She eyed him over her soup for a brief moment before returning her glance to the bowl. Althugh no familiarity struck her, something rang out from him that drew her attention; a force she culd only attribute to her heightened intuition. However, it was far too vague to jump to any conclusions. She swallowed the soup in her mouth and cleared her throat with a gulp.

"I'm sorry you were denied a room here." She began, a little more matter-of-factly than she'd intended. "Will you be alright out in the snow?"

 

[Alexander]

Perhaps he should have paid after the meal, not before it. What looked like soup from afar turned out to be a bit more misleading. If he were to try to describe it, "cabbage water" might have been at the tip of his tongue, perhaps with a few shaved chicken bits thrown in. In its favor, it was steaming hot, which was exactly what he needed right now, pleased to get out of the chilly air, and Trison could feel the warmth of the fireplace even from this distance at the table. Despite the taste, and much against his expectations to the contrary, the more that he gulped down, the more that his stomach settled.

His eyes were lifted up and to the side when he heard a voice, though his face remained directed at his meal. It was easy to shrug off the first sentence, but she followed with what seemed like genuine concern, and he decided that he might like the taste of conversation more than the soup. It would be nice to talk with somebody without being framed in an argument, which was all that he had so far today. Little did he know that his partner was the source of his frustrations thus far, and that they were yet at the very tip of what he would eventually find himself drawn into.

"Its no blizzard out there, thank the heavens. The snow will keep me wet, but the temperature is mild compared to that kind of cold. I'll still keep some warmth in my body if I can keep moving. It's collapsing and being snowed over that would worry me." He rubbed his belly with two motions, and then took another gulp of soup. "But I think I'll be safe from that now. I'll probably be fighting to keep my eyes open rather than worrying about my muscles giving out." Again, that was something that a room was meant to address, but he had endured worse. He gave her another look over, and noticed that the elf was equipped rather lightly, aside from the flashy half-skirt she wore, compared to the pack that he had laid behind his seat, and the various tools strapped to his back that he hadn't bothered removing. "I can see that you've settled in already. At least they were fortunate to have a spot for most of their customers."

 

[Applepoisoneer]

She thought about her offer, looking the man over and deciding there were things she could do to handle him if things took that route. In a kind of lusty anticipation, she reached a casual hand under the table and fingered the dagger she kept in her boot. Magical practice was more her cup of tea, but it was a quick fix if she needed one.

"Well, I know it isn't a cozy bed, but if you can stomach sharing a roof with a woman you hardly know, you can have the floor of my room." She shrugged, indicating it could go one way or the other. "It might be a little chilly, but it won't be quite so wet."

 

[Alexander]

He eyed her up and down quizzically, wondering if she was a person he could trust, and contemplated if he really had any choice at all. She had a friendly enough look to her, but those dark lips of her almost seemed to spell a different story. There was another feeling that he couldn't shake, as well. The scent of trouble on her overwhelmed the wafts coming from his bowl. Wondering if it was just the day's stress getting to him, he took a quick peek over the shoulder, at the lady on his other side. This one seemed normal enough, but for each inch his neck turned, he felt a sort of dread like he was turning his back to a lion.

"I think that I shouldn't." He finally replied, addressing her again. But yet, his mind lingered on the subject, about how he was turning down the first act of kindness that he had received all day. He mentally battled himself, recalling that he had a similar dread yesterday, when he had checked into Ferryment's inn instead of heading to the temple, one that took a couple brews to suppress. "Of course, I do many things that I shouldn't." He placed his soup spoon onto the table, and extended his hand to her. "I am Trison." Trison, the kind of guy who agreed to sleep in a stranger's room whose name he didn't even know, who couldn't follow his heart even when it beat at his chest like a drum.

 

[Applepoisoneer]

Her face changed subtly but perceptively as he spoke; lips curling down in disapproval when he denied her and back upward when he finally accepted.

She reached out a slender hand and firmly clasped his. "Lilliana Ahtaer." She realized that he hadn't given her his last name, but her Elven heritage had engrained in her the need to display hers.

 

[Alexander]

"It is nice to meet you, Lilliana Otter." He realized his mistake, hardly having mastery of the Elven tongue and its inflections. "Etter." He tried again, not getting it quite right. He took a deep breath to himself, and attempted once more. "Ahtear." He shrugged to himself. Close enough, though the girl might not have appreciated his butchering of words. "Well, I never did have a silver one of these", he commented, as he took a seat again and grasped at his spoon, to finish the soup. Once he managed finish the bowl off, giving a decent display of his lackluster eating etiquette in the process, he engaged her in conversation again. He had several questions about who she was, as she displayed a warmness he found curious, the type that he wished others shared and yet had never mastered himself.

 

[Applepoisoneer]

As much as she disliked the sound of her name being butchered, there was something a little charming about the flustered quality of his attempts. He seemed determined to get it right, and eventually, he did. Her dark lips swept into a little half-smile, and she chuckled low and musically.

"How does a fellow such as yourself find himself at a hole-in-the-wall in such as this?" She asked, forgetting about her own cabbage water for the moment.

 

[Alexander]

A hundred different answered entered his mind as he pondered how to answer her. Most of them exemplified his dismal view of the world, as if all of the fortunes he would ever know had been expended by now, and only a sour existence was left. He could tell her that it was by walking, of course. Bad luck. A missed opportunity. Managing a favor for a friend. Being a glorified errand boy. Going back far enough, it may have even been because he pissed his father off badly enough one fateful day. None of those really seemed appropriate to share with her, though.

"It looked like the warmest place for a poor traveler. It may have been my own mistake, to make haste rather than be cautious when the snow came. But I've made worse decisions, before. Today could have turned out much more badly for me, if it were not for you." He thanked her, on the outside, but really, he had just avoided giving her question a meaningful answer. He wouldn't have called his mission secret, exactly, but it wasn't as though it would be appropriate to brag about who he rubbed elbows with, even if he were acting far more of a servant than an equal.

 

[Applepoisoneer]

It seemed like a perfectly evasive answer, but what was she to do? Tell him she was sure he was on to something more specific? Instead she nodded, listening to his explanation.

"I'm pleased to do it." She told him, still bearing a fragment of a smile. "It's really no extra work on my part. And you seem like a nice enough fellow."

 

[Alexander]

Nice enough fellow. He mused on that word, 'nice'. Well, he conducted himself with some meager level of social etiquette, perhaps an accomplishment for a man who spent more of his time outside of civilization than in it, what with his wilderness explorations and all. It had made accepting his current task that much more difficult, two months past. He would have had better luck discovering fifty new herbs, rather than obtaining the five items that were on his list. He didn't realize how rare they would be, at first it seemed so simple, and more of a handout to him than a real job. He expected to be told their locations, in some far-away places off of any beaten road or even beyond the land's borders. He could travel faster than many, he assumed, at least at a cheaper rate than those who employed arcane tricks or mechanical contraptions. Instead, he was met with a shrug, and it was up to himself to find both what and where they were. The only aid that he had been given were five tiny pins. He was told that he would know when he had found one of the right items by scratching the appropriate pin against it. It was spoken in of generalities, but he was promised that the reaction would be clear. He was concerned when he was not promised that the reaction would be safe, but he was ushered away soon afterwards.

The Glaucian Rosehips weren't too bad, and he would probably be in a much better place had he been in a different season. It pissed him off now, to be sure, that he was empty-handed, but if he were to send a letter, mentioning he had been delayed by at most six months, it could all be behind him and he would return during a much warmer season next time. He also had a pretty good lead on the next one, the silk of some darned animal he could never pronounce. He had an acquaintance who knew of a sorceress who carried some from time to time, and had a habit of visiting Istral Lake for an upcoming holiday of the region. He had left Ferryment in haste, but still, even in a roundabout way, his current path could get him to Istral with a few days to spare before the event. He knew nothing so far about the Fairy's Tear, save that it couldn't possibly be as literal as it sounded. The fourth item was a complete oddity to him. There were markings on the paper, but it was not in his language. He was told it was an ancient word, there was no translation for it these days. Trison decided he could cheat on that one; if they didn't know what it was, he could deliver anything that seemed unusual. In the back of his mind, however, it was the Umbral Crystals that gave him the biggest sense of dread. He mouthed the words, and even going through the motions without voicing it made him feel uneasy. He had only ever thought of them as in the children's fairy tale, but he had been assured that they were real and that he was to retrieve two. He thought to the story, how touching one would damn the fool who put their hands on one to ten years of nightmares, and then wondered how bad it would be to then take a second one.

 

[Applepoisoneer]

Lilliana watched the man fidget and seemed to move his lips in what looked like a silent curse. She was certainly not a professional lip-reader, and didn't fancy herself a particularly good one. So what she caught looked something like, "Umbrella Minstrels" and that couldn't have been right.

"Are you alright?" She asked, tilting her head slightly, still studying him. This man grew more and more curious as they continued to sit at the table, and she found it fantastic that she herself hadn't said much of anything.

 

[Alexander]

He blinked a few times, when her voice returned him to reality. He instinctively patted at his pocket, as if somebody might have slipped their hand right in and taken his list from him while he had zoned out. He could still feel it crinkle, right where it had always been. "I'm fine..." he replied to her, slowly. He knew of people who would get lost in the past at some points. It felt strange that he was getting lost in things that had yet to happen. "Just thinking of a task that feels too big for me to complete. I should just focus on now, instead." He wiped a drop of sweat from his brow, wondering if it was from the heat of the fireplace, or his own dread. Regardless, the solution seemed to be in his cup, and he took a big swig from it. He would have preferred anything else, but water was what he had. His nose crinkled, at the thought of craving even a child's drink like juice or milk right now. He needed to get away from himself, at the moment. "I don't know much about my savior of the night. What can you tell me about yourself, Lilliana?

 

[Applepoisoneer]

Lilliana nodded; the feeling of an insurmountable task so much bigger than oneself was not one that was alien to her. She too had many things to do before power could be hers, and sometimes it overwhelmed her. At those times, she had to metaphorically pat herself on the head and reassure herself that she was capable. It was not a scene that she welcomed an audience for.

It had been her turn to zone-out, but she had come back to Earth at the sound of her name. What could she say? Nothing about her quest, surely. Though he was probably not keen on the use of magical items. There weren't many who would know what the Silk of Argaine even was. Perhaps she was overthinking things, and he was waiting for an answer. "Well," She began. "The Ahtaer Clan are mostly trade and craftsmen. I think we've crafted everything from cartwheels to fine robes. I'm just out looking for new and unique materials to use."

 

[Alexander]

A sigh escaped from Trison's lips when she detailed her family business. For a moment, he had hoped that her family traded in spices and herbs, and that he might have an easy shortcut from his predicament. Instead, it seemed like she was more interested in processing materials, rather than harvesting or collecting them. That was silly of him to wish for, and quite unlikely, but for some reason he found himself continually daydreaming while he was around Lilliana. In fact, that last part sent his mind spinning again. He just so happened to be gathering some unique materials, at least he intended to. He wasn't sure what exactly was the worth of everything that was on his list, but Umbral Crystals are still crystals, right? Maybe taking one extra and being thrice-damned wasn't that much worse than being twice-damned, especially if his pockets were a little fuller for the effort.

"I was hoping to meet somebody who deals in just that sort of thing, actually", he spoke of the lady he planned to find in Istral. "If you give me your hometown, perhaps I could send more information about that person's stock your way. I don't know what's new and not to you, but it would be the least that I could do to repay you." He wasn't sure about his need to ruin any fine robes during his trek, but maybe he could weasel a cart out of her family while he was at it. Plants and silks he could carry on his own, for sure, and tears didn't seem so bad, but he imagined up a set of Umbral Crystals, picked straight from a mine, and large enough each to be crafted into a crystal ball bigger than a man's head. The reality was they might be just as easily pinched between two fingers, but it was no fun to dream so small.

 

[Applepoisoneer]

"Most of my family is situated in the Shval forest area," She eplained, mulling over her words. "but we've got kin virtually everywhere." She leaned in on her elbow and smiled invitingly across the table at him. "What sort of things are you looking for? Anything rare or unusual?"

Lilliana supposed it might be a little direct to ask about the rarity of the item, but if she could get him talking, he might say something interesting. She'd heard a little of the dealer of which he spoke, but wasn't sure where she'd been situated. There were still many rare items on her list that she knew she would have trouble finding, and especially carrying.

 

[Alexander]

Thoughts of the frontier, and a backwater area came to mind when she mentioned Shval, but he supposed that might have been a very human perception. Elves had many strange ways of living, and forest-dwelling just might be one of them. Most of his friends were either farmers or cityfolk, maybe Shvar was the equivalent to either of those two for Lilliana. It made him glad that he had taken the only third option available to him instead. "Your family is everywhere, huh?" He took another glance up and down her. "I don't think so, not the places where I have often been. I don't exactly hunt for them, but I've come across another elf or two. I think I'd remember one who was fortunate enough to share your features."

His fingers reached into his pocket again, as she brought his mind to his list again. If his hand were any steady at writing, he'd make a copy and store it somewhere deep inside his pack or his boot, but right now this was the only one he had. "Would you believe me if I didn't know what I was searching for?" He admitted to her. "Crystals, and silk, and, well, tears?", he ended with a voice that questioned himself. "There's an oil made around here, that was the best one I know. After I go to Istral, I think I'm going to need luck more than I'll need persistence."

 

[Applepoisoneer]

Her eyes widened a little; it might've been vague, but she recognized the list. Certainly,he could be collecting these materials for another purpose, but he might've mentioned it if it were so common place as making a fine set of robes. She had.

"Well, perhaps we can help each other a little more than just a room for the night." She offered, lifting a hand out, palm-up. She kept up her inviting smile, finding it easier to be at ease around Trison. She found him pretty likable, and not too hard to look at. Too bad she was going to have to throw him over in the end, one way or another.

 

[Alexander]

She had a strange offer for him, and he hardly understood her intentions. Her face didn't waver, though, and he didn't read any other signs that might signal her sincerity. He took a moment to behind his back, as if the lady behind him might be snooping and listening in, but she was long gone, having finished her meal. He leaned in closer to her, hesitant to take her hand. He had it in mind to keep to himself thus far, to get his mission over and done with as quickly as possible, alone. But people take shortcuts all the time, didn't they, he thought to himself. He leaned in closer to her, and lowered his voice, as if they were about to share a secret together. "What kind of arrangement did you have in mind?" It was a question meant to inch the door open a little more, but fate may have been more intent on using it to fling him over a cliff.

 

[Applepoisoneer]

She leaned in too, closing the gap between their noses so that a hand could barely pass between them. "I know where to get a great store of things that are, shall we say, difficult to obtain. Certainly no one-handedd job for even the most skilled looter. If you can help me arrest the materials I need, I'll see to it that you get what you want as well."

Lilliana decided to make the offer of procuring his items first, as a show of good faith. While he was busy, possibly thinking she was a fool and planning to leave her without aid once his shopping list was full, then she would have him. That is of course, if she hadn't been mistaken in what he wanted. Or if he didn't figure out the rouse first and turn things. It was indeed a dangerous game, but well worth it to win.

 

[Alexander]

A dread filled him when she made her offer, and his hand smacked right into his face in frustration when he began to learn of this girl's true nature. And even worse, he didn't find himself walking away from her, either. He couldn't possibly be thinking of sullying his reputation with a girl like this after just one small slip-up, could he? It certainly wasn't the warm room keeping him here, now. And it was just his luck, too, as history seemed to be repeating itself. When Trison met the last lady with Lilliana's good looks, she was a pile of misfortune, as well. "Its always the troublesome ones that are the most attractive. Why can't a simple farmer ever have a beautiful daughter?" He bemoaned to himself in a low breath.

He would have raised his voice, because her answer was something that he needed to hear very, very clearly, but this was no longer a subject that would be freely discussed in an open place such as this. "Are you a thief, or are you a smuggler?" The difference was minute, but the stakes were vastly different. If he were caught with one, he might lose a finger. If he were caught with the other, even the fortune he stood to earn with his contract wouldn't dent the fee he'd have to pay if he wanted to keep his freedom. He had been promised not to worry about anything like the legality of what he found, at least not once he had each of the items all together. But until then, he was probably on his own. It was the thought an encounter with a sheriff who was too scrupulous for his own good, that made him falter. His fingers were nimble, he had no illusions about how useful they could be to this girl. But life hadn't eroded his own morals enough that he would freely throw in with criminals.