Post by Tallaith on Feb 28, 2009 20:50:30 GMT -5
Mae is watching over Phaerel at her house. He's sleeping deeply, sick from a poison inhaled from a special sort of pipeweed. Mae accidentally grew the poisoned weed from seeds she found in Angmar. Luckily Phaerel was the only person to try it, but unluckily he's nearly dead and no one has found a cure.
Maewynne nearly nods off as she watches Phaerel sleep.
Dolen steps inside the far too warm house and closes the door behind him.
Maewynne rubs her eyes, trying to stay awake as she keeps watch over Phaerel. She glances up to the sound of the door opening. She calls softly, "In here. Who is it?"
Dolen hesitates before moving towards the origin of the voice, "Dolen. I've some information you might want to hear."
Maewynne looks towards the bedroom door, her face lighting up in an instant. "You found a cure?!"
Phaerel stirs at the sound of voices nearby.
Dolen gives the man on the bed a long look before looking back to Mae, his face grim, "Not exactly. But I've found someone who might. If we might.." he tilts his head back towards the other room.
((Mae and Dolen go from her bedroom into the main room of the house.))
Maewynne nods, the elation melting from her face as quickly as it came. 'What did you find, sir?'
Phaerel wakes, and instinctively reaches for his weapons at the sound of harsh whispers.
Dolen takes a deep breath and hooks his thumbs behind his swordbelt, looking quite wary. He looks back at the doorway to the bedroom and frowns, "I know a man. That is to say, I know of a man... He deals in some, well, information, I suppose you could say.'
Maewynne nods, her expression nearly frantic. She has to restrain herself from stamping her foot in impatience. 'Aye, what sort? No.. Where is he?'
Dolen looks increasingly uncomfortable, lowering his head to hide a bit more of his face under the hood. "He's just someone who might know exotic bits of information. Particularly up North. I don't know his name, but he'll be at the Comb and Wattle tonight.'
Maewynne nods and turns on her heel instantly. She pauses for only a moment. "His name? Do you have it?"
Phaerel sticks to the shadow of the doorway and listens.
Dolen shakes his head and opens his mouth to say that he does not, but hesitates and finally says, "Krenet. You'll know him by the oiled hair and hideous beak of a nose."
Maewynne nods. She throws open the door without bothering to latch it, leaving even her traveling pack behind in her haste.
Dolen slips off the opposite direction, glad he wasn't asked to come along.
((Mae rides to the Comb and Wattle in Combe.))
Maewynne looks around the common room and takes a slow breath. She approaches Lizbeth hesitantly. She speaks softly to the barmaid and waits for her drink. She reaches for her purse and scowls, her fingers fumbling for a bag that isn't hanging from her belt. 'Never mind, Lizbeth. Thanks regardless.'
Krenet is currently sitting at his table, back to the wall, taking his time about eating from a bowl of very questionable meat stew.
Maewynne studies the Men across the room carefully, her hand settling on her dagger. She dismisses them as her eyes rest on the Man eating alone in the corner. She smiles sweetly to the Man. "Hello, sir." She offers him a demure curtsey.
Krenet looks up from his stew, taking a reckless drink from a mug of ale that has some of the liquid spilling onto the table. "An' what do you wan', eh lass?"
Maewynne blushes prettily and looks to the table. "Just some company, sir. This is my first time in Combe and I hardly know anyone at all."
Krenet looks her over while he enjoys another long drink from the swill they call ale. "Is tha' it, then? What's yer price, eh? Plenty of yer competitors to keep me company 'n these parts lately."
Maewynne shakes her head, turning even more red as she looks at him with wide, innocent eyes. She twines her fingers in a long lock of hair. "I'm not sure what you mean, sir. I'm just looking for someone to talk with for a while."
Krenet shrugs and points at the stool across from him with his mug, ale spilling over the rim, "Aye, sit 'n talk then if y' like."
Maewynne settles down, delicately folding her hands in her lap, careful to flick her skirts over her dagger with her elbow. 'What brings you to this fine establishment this evening, sir?'
Krenet leans back, staring at the girl across the table with a wide grin. He is clearly already deep in his cups. " 's the best company, 'tis. Fine ale 's well, and affordable."
Maewynne smiles shyly and nods. "I'm afraid I lost my purse somewhere on the way here from Archet. I've never been out of town and this place is so huge I'm sure I'll never find it. And a lass like me, well... It's not safe to travel alone at night, is it?" She leans forward to prop her elbow on the edge of the table, propping her chin on her hand. She adjusts a bit to display her bust a bit better to him, the ties at the back of her dress loosened a bit for just such an occasion.
Krenet is not the most subtle man, his grin spreading as he leers down at the girl's display. "Might dangerous place, this. Yer right about tha' one. I'd be glad to take yeh on a walk back - to keep ye safe, 'n all, a'course."
Maewynne draws back a fraction, her shy smile becoming all the more sweet and youthful. "I hardly know you, sir. But that's very kind."
Krenet shrugs and does his best to put on a trusting smile. It only makes him look like more the lech, unfortunately. "Ey, you kin trust me, aye? I've got an honest face, I do. Right honest!"
Maewynne flutters her eyelashes at him, carefully studying him from beneath her hair as she measures him appraisingly. "I don't even know your name, sir. I'm Mae."
Krenet takes another unsteady drink of ale, "They call me Kenton 'round 'ere. Ken for short, if y' like. Is gettin' late, roads are pre'ty dangerous this time, you got folks waitin' for ye to get home, eh?"
Maewynne looks very embarrassed and says bashfully, "Aye, I'm a bit late. I was on my way to meet a lad and he wasn't where he said he'd be. I'm sad, sir. Very sad to have missed him." She glances around the room and to the door. 'Would you care to walk with me?'
Krenet says, 'Aye, an' keep a helpless lil' lass safe, 's what I do, 't is!' He stands up from the table, leaving the vile meat stew behind along with the near empty flagon of ale. He sways a bit, but never removes his leer from the lass.
Maewynne smiles sweetly to him, apparently grateful beyond measure. Her fingers stray to check her dagger at her side as she stands.
Krenet leans against the table and folds his arms across his chest, looking her over again. "After ye, lass" He places a hand on Mae's back and guides her towards the road south with the other hand. "Le's get a move on, eh lass?"
Maewynne nods shly, her hand lingering on her dagger hidden in her skirts for only a moment. 'Actually, sir. It is an *awfully* long way to Archet from here. I'd rather look for my lost things after I've had some rest. Could you spare me the coin for a room or offer me a place on the floor near your fire?'
((Ealon enters the Comb and Wattle. Mae and Krenet are speaking quietly near a back table.))
Maewynne smiles a little and traces one finger along the tabletop slowly.
Krenet grins at her across the table, "Right fine idea, I say. I've go' a special room I do, jus' in the back. I'm a very influential man, y'know lass? Right this way, eh? Come on, not far, and it's right cosy."
Maewynne glances up at the sound of another patron in the room and notes Ealon. She gives him a flash of a glare that says, "Stay back!" and turns again to the Man with a demure smile.
Ealon takes his hat off as he yawns. He places his hat on the bar counter as he runs his hands through his hair.
Krenet saunters towards the back room of the inn and starts down the stairs, assuming the girl will follow.
((Krenet leads Mae to the back bedroom of the Comb and Wattle, down a short hallway behind the bar. Ealon is only a few feet away, down the short hallway and on the other side of the bar.))
Maewynne beams at Krenet and nods. She pauses in the doorway with a shy smile. "Sir, well..." She wraps her hair around her forefinger with a shy smile. "You're an important man, sir? How so?"
Ealon leans over the bar counter as he watches the patrons past the doorway. He squints his eyes to those that look familiar, but then shrugs it off and orders an ale from the waitress.
Maewynne says, 'And this is a lovely room. So spacious! It must have been pricey indeed!'
Krenet leans back against the table, his lecherous gaze seldom meeting her eyes. "Got a good bit of coin, I do. People roun' here know my name. Why don' you get cosy, eh?"
Maewynne blinks, for a moment at a loss as to what to do. She smiles even more docilely and approaches him slowly. 'Sir, what is it you do? I'm just a plain lass, I've no head for business. So I'm VERY impressed by folks who are industrious.'
Ealon flirts with barmaid as he does magic tricks. He smiles slyly every time she giggles, then chats with her as he drinks his ale.
Maewynne glances to the floor as she traces her finger down his chest, almost shrinking back at the feel of his greasy robe beneath her touch.
Krenet frowns, "I'm a trader. I travel from place to place 'n sell people things they can't find easy, aye? But who cares about business talk, you must be tired after such a big day"
Maewynne steps a fraction closer to him now, careful to keep her dagger at her hip out of his sight and still open for her hand. 'It *has* been a big day, sir. To have met you. But... I'm no lass to offer *favors* to any lad who says he's a man of business. Nothing, nothing at all, impresses me more than a bit of... intrigue. And power.' She pouts at Krenet now, shifting her bodice to offer him a better view. She seems as if she's ready to leave at any less-than-impressive reply.
Ealon takes another sip of his ale. "How many cats you say you have?" he asks the barmaid, almost sounding shocked.
Maewynne rakes him with her gaze, trying to look as if she's grown a passionate interest for this distasteful Man, in fact checking him closely for weapons. Her eyes settle on the buckle of his belt and she smiles to him pointedly, hoping he didn't notice.
Krenet takes hold of her hand and places his other at her side, leaning in close to whisper, "Oh don' be like that lass, I'll show you jus' what it is us powerful men do in the business, aye? 's not always on the up and up, if'n ye know what I mean."
Maewynne struggles not to pull back but yeilds to him. "Are you powerful enough to work for folks far from here?" She twists just a bit away from him, trying to make sure she has indeed found the correct person.
Krenet nods, willing to give her that much to make it move along, "Aye, many powerful folks, all the way down to Gondor," he say, shifting his position to keep close. His breath is as vile as his demeanor.
Maewynne wiggles back away from him, turning her face to the wall to escape his foul breath. She pauses for a long moment then slowly, cautiously, lays her hand on her blade.
Ealon laughs with the barmaid as he finishes a joke he tells her.
Maewynne darts her eyes to the doorway, thinking she sees movement there. She bites her lip, drawing back from the Man. Her hand falters on her blade and balls into a fist. She quickly jerks back and flings a punch right between his eyes.
((Phaerel has followed Mae without her knowledge. He's very ill and now is hiding in the shadowed hallway to watch over her.))
Phaerel crouches, preparing to intervene if need be, but struggling with consciousness.
Krenet had been stepping towards the girl after she'd pulled away, whispering unintelligible words of encouragement and reaching for her once again. The punch catches him entirely off guard and his head snaps back when it lands squrely where it was aimed. His vision goes dark momentarily and spots blossom in his vision as he stares disbelievingly at the lass. It seems that it's only then that he notices the knife at her hip and his eyes narrow. "Oh, 's tha' how it is, girl? You think you can rob me? You don' know who it is yer dealing with!" he hisses and draws his knife, moving to block the path to the doorway to trap her in the room.
Ealon jerks his hand back from the barmaid's coin purse behind the bar. He appears to look innocent as he notices a worried look over her face. "What noise?" he responds to her question
Maewynne scowls at the Man, drawing her own blade. "Rob you of *what?*" She tenses, ready for any movement.
Ealon perks his ears to the doorway and shrugs helplessly. "I don't hear anything," he says to the barmaid.
Krenet holds his knife flat at about waist height, his other hand ready to grapple with her. "Yer the most daft cutpurse I've ever met. My -coin-, you daft wench! Now c'mere, 's time I bleed you a little," he sneers, advancing a step.
Phaerel sees the stranger's back, and begins drawing a dagger just as his vision begins to blur...
Ealon continues to hear the scuffle going on in the back. He shrugs to the barmaid to appear innocent as he waits for another opportunity at her coin purse. He taps his fingers along the counter as he sips his ale. He sighs as the barmaid persists at him to investigate. He reluctantly gets up from his stool and makes his way into the back, peering searchingly through the area
Maewynne lunges towards Krenet, glancing to his blade for only a moment before twisting to the side. She wraps her arm around his shoulder, looking almost as if she's embracing him as she grabs a fistful of his grease-clotted hair. "I'm no robber, sir. But I believe you're just the one I've hunted." She yanks his hair as hard as she can to jerk his head back and swiftly draws her dagger to his throat.
Ealon continues to hear comotion through the hallways. "Hello?" He softly calls out so as not to draw so much attention.
Phaerel leans to the wall, dagger in hand, consciousness slipping away as he fights to stand.
Ealon gives the barmaid a sharp look as she pushes him forward. "Alright," he says in frustration. "I don't know what's going on up there! Don't try and get me killed!"
Krenet almost grins as he is taken into the experienced and certainly firm grasp. His mind was still buzzing from the alcohol, but an experienced man in brawls, he reacts as best he can. He makes a grab for Mae's wrist first, trying to ensure that she doesn't get a chance to move the blade now that it's inches from his neck. At nearly the same time, he leans back, using the only other instument available to him to put some space back between them - a knee, aimed anywhere she'd feel it.
Maewynne grits her teeth as she readies herself for the blow with too little time to aviod it. She looses his hair and resorts to clawing him swiftly across the cheek, hissing in hatred as she shoves herself back a fraction.
Ealon stays put as he hears the scuffle in the next room. He slaps the barmaids hands away from his hips. "Stop pushing me!" he scolds her.
Phaerel slides out of the shadow behind the door, close enough for Maewynne to see, but still silent. Eyes half-closed, sweating, and pale as the moon, he looks incapable of gripping the dagger he weilds for more than a moment.
Maewynne darts her eyes to Phaerel, gasping as she turns back to Krenet just as quickly.
Phaerel sees Ealon in his peripheral vision, and has enough time to give him a pleading look before darkness takes him.
Ealon notices Phaerel as he emanates from the shadows. He pushes the barmaid back into the next room and slides his body against the east wall. He looks at Phaerel and mouths the words. "What is happeing?"
Krenet takes the moment of hesitation to get a good grip on her knife hand, though he seems of equal strength to the girl and is unable to pull it away. Instead he tries to step forward and, ideally push her off balance. He had groaned at the claw across his cheek, three thing red scratches drawing the smallest bit of blood, but the glare on his face indicates he'd hardly felt it.
Ealon curses in frustration as he watches Phaerel fall to the floor. He creeps along toward the doorway, his back against the wall as he breathes in and out slowly.
Maewynne growls beneath her breath and glares into Krenet's eyes. Her fingers press the blade into the flesh of his neck, nimble even though her wrist can't move. Her other hand balls into a fist that she recklessly launches into his gut. "Pipeweed. Tell me or I'll kill you. The cure. NOW."
Ealon peers around the corner of the wall, as he hears two individuals in the next. He's unable to identify them as he looks frantically at Phaerel on the floor.
Krenet grunts and slumps a bit at the punch that goes unhindered to his gut. The heavy knife he'd been holding in his free hand clatters to the floor. At the mention of 'pipeweed', his eyes widen a bit, staring at her over the knife pressed to his throat. He appears confused for a moment, not sure what it was he was dealing with at all any more. He swings his leg out to the side and pivots, pulling back to afford him the space as he could feel the edge where her knife had drawn blood. He uses his hold on her wrist to try and shove her away, ideally tripping her over his other foot, though all he cares about at this point is trying to get the blade away from his neck.
Ealon checks around the corner again. He takes a deep breath as he sneaks over toward, Phaerel's body. He keeps to the wall as he observes the back of a man's back, still unable to identify the other member.
Maewynne yelps as she staggers back over his foot, dragging her blade across his skin in a shallow furrow. She falls to her rear with a sound thunk and in rage buries her blade as hard as she can with both hands into the toe of his shoe. "Tell me!"
Ealon slowly reaches under Phaerel's arms as he gently lifts hims up. Ealon begins to drag Phaerel's body away from the comotion and into the tavern room.
Phaerel stirs at being moved, but does not wake.
Krenet clenches his jaw and curses between his clenched teeth, first as the blade bites just deep enough into his skin to let him know very plainly where it'd been. He cries out loudly as the blade lands with a solid "thunk" directly through his boot. He swings a fist at Mae's head, pain blinding any thought besides getting the woman to back away.
Ealon taps the barmaid on the shoulder. "Watch over him." He then looks over the barmaid's question. "He's a kin of mine, just watch over him." He proceeds to move back into the other, his back against the east wall.
Maewynne tries to dodge the blow, grabbing for any purchase she can find. Her fingers snag his belt, tearing away his leather travel bag. It falls useless to the floor beside him. She reels as his knuckles graze her scalp but persists. With a sharp cry she twists her knife in his boot. "Tell me. The. Cure."
Phaerel regains a tiny bit of consciousness, and begins to crawl back toward the room.
Ealon moves over across the doorway and into the shadows. He crouches down as he observes the fight between the two individuals. He is able to identify a male and female. He squints and peers at the female for a moment. "Mae?.." he whispers to himself.
Phaerel staggers into the doorway behind the bar, and realizes that he's dropped his dagger on the other side of the room, where he was pulled away by Ealon.
Krenet cries out in pain as the blade is twisted in his boot, his instinct to pull his foot away from the pain... making him yell that much louder. "Cure!" he exclaims, sounding apalled. His only care is the bloody knife in his foot! He tries again to get her to back away, dropping to one knee now and making a grab for her hair while swinging another loose fist.
Ealon blinks at Phaerel. He motions with his hand to halt and then motions it toward the other wall opposite of him. He slides Phaerel's dagger toward the opposit wall for him to pick up. He mouths the words to him, "Mae?" as a curious look floods his face.
Phaerel holds the wall for support, and moves to the corner of the room.
Maewynne wrenches her blade from his boot with a howl as he grabs her hair. She narrows her eyes at him, bleeding hatred as his fist checks against her cheekbone. She spits at him. "I WILL kill you. The cure. To the poisoned weed."
Phaerel gropes for the dagger on the floor, but as he reaches down, he begins to lose consciousness again.
Ealon recognizes the female's voice. "Mae," he says. He reaches into his side pocket as he cups a small tablet and grinds it into his palm. He creeps toward the males, his back toward him.
Krenet cries out agian in pain when the knife is drawn from his mutilated foot, blood already seeping to fill the slash. He throws her back, releasing the grip on her hair and making a grasp for her knife instead with both hands, trying to wrench it from her grasp. As he struggles with her, he hisses at her in acid tones, "Even if you had enough kingsfoil, the honey you need is far East. Ye'd never make the journey, wench!"
Maewynne gasps, her eyes wide as she sees Ealon in the doorway. Distracted, her fingers stumble on her blood-slicked dagger. It falls to the floor softly.
Ealon shouts toward the strange man to get his attention. His right hand grinding the tablet in his palm.
Krenet picks up the blood slicked blade from the ground, the dagger trembling in his hands. He fails to hear the man behind him, his hate-filled stare focused on the girl that had destroyed his foot! He steadies the knife and prepares to strike, still unaware of anyone behind him.
Ealon extends his right palm toward the man's eyes. He blows furiously as he lets loose the powder from his palm toward the man's eyes.
Maewynne cringes back from Krenet, suddenly frightened for the first time. She darts her eyes to Ealon madly for only a moment.
Krenet inhales in surprise as he see's sudden movement from the corner of his eyes. He squeezes his eyes shut as they almost immediately begin burning. With a cry of pain and frustration, his thoughts turn to escape. He stabs Mae's dagger forward wildly, hoping to at least bloody the girl a little. The blade jars as it meets its unintentional mark, contacting and sliding between two of her ribs, though the stab was low and rather shallow.
Ealon watches as the man frantically tries to escape, he steps back a bit as he looks at Maewynne on the ground. He extends his hand toward Mae, "Come on!" he shouts frantically toward her. His eyes widen as the dagger strikes at her chest. Time seems to pause as silence fills the room.
Phaerel stumbles into the doorway, sweating profusely with the effort of movement, and falls to one knee. He drops the dagger again, and his eyes try to close.
Maewynne looks to Krenet with huge eyes, silent and unmoving as the dagger splits her skin. She glances down at her own knife and looks genuinely confused as a tiny speck of blood bubbles on her lips.
Krenet stands up immediately after - he could have stabbed the floorboards for all he was aware. He staggars back against the door, rubbing at his eyes to try and restore some vision at least, and unsuccessfully.
Maewynne looks up to Ealon and blinks, then to Phaerel. She coughs lightly and looks again to the hilt that's somehow attached to her dress, which is now turning a deep crimson.
Ealon stares up at Mae as he sees her confused look. His hand still reaching out toward her as he remains still
Krenet rolls into the hallway, trying to blindly find his way back outside and away, unsure who their company was, but knowing they were danger. He runs directly into Phaerel on his blind exit, falling over the man and hitting the floor hard.
Maewynne fumbles at her dagger, as if she's trying to draw it from the sheath at her hip.
Krenet struggles to his feet, the blood seeping from his boot leaving very clear bloody footprints on the dark wood on his way to the door.
Phaerel falls to both knees in front of his love. "...Maewynne..."
Maewynne looks blankly to the bag Krenet left on the floor and then to Phaerel, her lips twisting to a slight smile. Blood stains her teeth as she tries to say something in reply to him.
Ealon catches Mae as she stumbles to the ground. He hoists her up and carries her to the bed. The barmaid runs into the room, "Call for help!" he shouts at her. Many patrons begin to surround the doorway as he puts pressure on the bleeding wound.
Maewynne limply clings to consciousness, each exhalation blowing a mist of crimson. She smiles to Ealon softly as she slips away, whispering, "Tricks."
Maewynne nearly nods off as she watches Phaerel sleep.
Dolen steps inside the far too warm house and closes the door behind him.
Maewynne rubs her eyes, trying to stay awake as she keeps watch over Phaerel. She glances up to the sound of the door opening. She calls softly, "In here. Who is it?"
Dolen hesitates before moving towards the origin of the voice, "Dolen. I've some information you might want to hear."
Maewynne looks towards the bedroom door, her face lighting up in an instant. "You found a cure?!"
Phaerel stirs at the sound of voices nearby.
Dolen gives the man on the bed a long look before looking back to Mae, his face grim, "Not exactly. But I've found someone who might. If we might.." he tilts his head back towards the other room.
((Mae and Dolen go from her bedroom into the main room of the house.))
Maewynne nods, the elation melting from her face as quickly as it came. 'What did you find, sir?'
Phaerel wakes, and instinctively reaches for his weapons at the sound of harsh whispers.
Dolen takes a deep breath and hooks his thumbs behind his swordbelt, looking quite wary. He looks back at the doorway to the bedroom and frowns, "I know a man. That is to say, I know of a man... He deals in some, well, information, I suppose you could say.'
Maewynne nods, her expression nearly frantic. She has to restrain herself from stamping her foot in impatience. 'Aye, what sort? No.. Where is he?'
Dolen looks increasingly uncomfortable, lowering his head to hide a bit more of his face under the hood. "He's just someone who might know exotic bits of information. Particularly up North. I don't know his name, but he'll be at the Comb and Wattle tonight.'
Maewynne nods and turns on her heel instantly. She pauses for only a moment. "His name? Do you have it?"
Phaerel sticks to the shadow of the doorway and listens.
Dolen shakes his head and opens his mouth to say that he does not, but hesitates and finally says, "Krenet. You'll know him by the oiled hair and hideous beak of a nose."
Maewynne nods. She throws open the door without bothering to latch it, leaving even her traveling pack behind in her haste.
Dolen slips off the opposite direction, glad he wasn't asked to come along.
((Mae rides to the Comb and Wattle in Combe.))
Maewynne looks around the common room and takes a slow breath. She approaches Lizbeth hesitantly. She speaks softly to the barmaid and waits for her drink. She reaches for her purse and scowls, her fingers fumbling for a bag that isn't hanging from her belt. 'Never mind, Lizbeth. Thanks regardless.'
Krenet is currently sitting at his table, back to the wall, taking his time about eating from a bowl of very questionable meat stew.
Maewynne studies the Men across the room carefully, her hand settling on her dagger. She dismisses them as her eyes rest on the Man eating alone in the corner. She smiles sweetly to the Man. "Hello, sir." She offers him a demure curtsey.
Krenet looks up from his stew, taking a reckless drink from a mug of ale that has some of the liquid spilling onto the table. "An' what do you wan', eh lass?"
Maewynne blushes prettily and looks to the table. "Just some company, sir. This is my first time in Combe and I hardly know anyone at all."
Krenet looks her over while he enjoys another long drink from the swill they call ale. "Is tha' it, then? What's yer price, eh? Plenty of yer competitors to keep me company 'n these parts lately."
Maewynne shakes her head, turning even more red as she looks at him with wide, innocent eyes. She twines her fingers in a long lock of hair. "I'm not sure what you mean, sir. I'm just looking for someone to talk with for a while."
Krenet shrugs and points at the stool across from him with his mug, ale spilling over the rim, "Aye, sit 'n talk then if y' like."
Maewynne settles down, delicately folding her hands in her lap, careful to flick her skirts over her dagger with her elbow. 'What brings you to this fine establishment this evening, sir?'
Krenet leans back, staring at the girl across the table with a wide grin. He is clearly already deep in his cups. " 's the best company, 'tis. Fine ale 's well, and affordable."
Maewynne smiles shyly and nods. "I'm afraid I lost my purse somewhere on the way here from Archet. I've never been out of town and this place is so huge I'm sure I'll never find it. And a lass like me, well... It's not safe to travel alone at night, is it?" She leans forward to prop her elbow on the edge of the table, propping her chin on her hand. She adjusts a bit to display her bust a bit better to him, the ties at the back of her dress loosened a bit for just such an occasion.
Krenet is not the most subtle man, his grin spreading as he leers down at the girl's display. "Might dangerous place, this. Yer right about tha' one. I'd be glad to take yeh on a walk back - to keep ye safe, 'n all, a'course."
Maewynne draws back a fraction, her shy smile becoming all the more sweet and youthful. "I hardly know you, sir. But that's very kind."
Krenet shrugs and does his best to put on a trusting smile. It only makes him look like more the lech, unfortunately. "Ey, you kin trust me, aye? I've got an honest face, I do. Right honest!"
Maewynne flutters her eyelashes at him, carefully studying him from beneath her hair as she measures him appraisingly. "I don't even know your name, sir. I'm Mae."
Krenet takes another unsteady drink of ale, "They call me Kenton 'round 'ere. Ken for short, if y' like. Is gettin' late, roads are pre'ty dangerous this time, you got folks waitin' for ye to get home, eh?"
Maewynne looks very embarrassed and says bashfully, "Aye, I'm a bit late. I was on my way to meet a lad and he wasn't where he said he'd be. I'm sad, sir. Very sad to have missed him." She glances around the room and to the door. 'Would you care to walk with me?'
Krenet says, 'Aye, an' keep a helpless lil' lass safe, 's what I do, 't is!' He stands up from the table, leaving the vile meat stew behind along with the near empty flagon of ale. He sways a bit, but never removes his leer from the lass.
Maewynne smiles sweetly to him, apparently grateful beyond measure. Her fingers stray to check her dagger at her side as she stands.
Krenet leans against the table and folds his arms across his chest, looking her over again. "After ye, lass" He places a hand on Mae's back and guides her towards the road south with the other hand. "Le's get a move on, eh lass?"
Maewynne nods shly, her hand lingering on her dagger hidden in her skirts for only a moment. 'Actually, sir. It is an *awfully* long way to Archet from here. I'd rather look for my lost things after I've had some rest. Could you spare me the coin for a room or offer me a place on the floor near your fire?'
((Ealon enters the Comb and Wattle. Mae and Krenet are speaking quietly near a back table.))
Maewynne smiles a little and traces one finger along the tabletop slowly.
Krenet grins at her across the table, "Right fine idea, I say. I've go' a special room I do, jus' in the back. I'm a very influential man, y'know lass? Right this way, eh? Come on, not far, and it's right cosy."
Maewynne glances up at the sound of another patron in the room and notes Ealon. She gives him a flash of a glare that says, "Stay back!" and turns again to the Man with a demure smile.
Ealon takes his hat off as he yawns. He places his hat on the bar counter as he runs his hands through his hair.
Krenet saunters towards the back room of the inn and starts down the stairs, assuming the girl will follow.
((Krenet leads Mae to the back bedroom of the Comb and Wattle, down a short hallway behind the bar. Ealon is only a few feet away, down the short hallway and on the other side of the bar.))
Maewynne beams at Krenet and nods. She pauses in the doorway with a shy smile. "Sir, well..." She wraps her hair around her forefinger with a shy smile. "You're an important man, sir? How so?"
Ealon leans over the bar counter as he watches the patrons past the doorway. He squints his eyes to those that look familiar, but then shrugs it off and orders an ale from the waitress.
Maewynne says, 'And this is a lovely room. So spacious! It must have been pricey indeed!'
Krenet leans back against the table, his lecherous gaze seldom meeting her eyes. "Got a good bit of coin, I do. People roun' here know my name. Why don' you get cosy, eh?"
Maewynne blinks, for a moment at a loss as to what to do. She smiles even more docilely and approaches him slowly. 'Sir, what is it you do? I'm just a plain lass, I've no head for business. So I'm VERY impressed by folks who are industrious.'
Ealon flirts with barmaid as he does magic tricks. He smiles slyly every time she giggles, then chats with her as he drinks his ale.
Maewynne glances to the floor as she traces her finger down his chest, almost shrinking back at the feel of his greasy robe beneath her touch.
Krenet frowns, "I'm a trader. I travel from place to place 'n sell people things they can't find easy, aye? But who cares about business talk, you must be tired after such a big day"
Maewynne steps a fraction closer to him now, careful to keep her dagger at her hip out of his sight and still open for her hand. 'It *has* been a big day, sir. To have met you. But... I'm no lass to offer *favors* to any lad who says he's a man of business. Nothing, nothing at all, impresses me more than a bit of... intrigue. And power.' She pouts at Krenet now, shifting her bodice to offer him a better view. She seems as if she's ready to leave at any less-than-impressive reply.
Ealon takes another sip of his ale. "How many cats you say you have?" he asks the barmaid, almost sounding shocked.
Maewynne rakes him with her gaze, trying to look as if she's grown a passionate interest for this distasteful Man, in fact checking him closely for weapons. Her eyes settle on the buckle of his belt and she smiles to him pointedly, hoping he didn't notice.
Krenet takes hold of her hand and places his other at her side, leaning in close to whisper, "Oh don' be like that lass, I'll show you jus' what it is us powerful men do in the business, aye? 's not always on the up and up, if'n ye know what I mean."
Maewynne struggles not to pull back but yeilds to him. "Are you powerful enough to work for folks far from here?" She twists just a bit away from him, trying to make sure she has indeed found the correct person.
Krenet nods, willing to give her that much to make it move along, "Aye, many powerful folks, all the way down to Gondor," he say, shifting his position to keep close. His breath is as vile as his demeanor.
Maewynne wiggles back away from him, turning her face to the wall to escape his foul breath. She pauses for a long moment then slowly, cautiously, lays her hand on her blade.
Ealon laughs with the barmaid as he finishes a joke he tells her.
Maewynne darts her eyes to the doorway, thinking she sees movement there. She bites her lip, drawing back from the Man. Her hand falters on her blade and balls into a fist. She quickly jerks back and flings a punch right between his eyes.
((Phaerel has followed Mae without her knowledge. He's very ill and now is hiding in the shadowed hallway to watch over her.))
Phaerel crouches, preparing to intervene if need be, but struggling with consciousness.
Krenet had been stepping towards the girl after she'd pulled away, whispering unintelligible words of encouragement and reaching for her once again. The punch catches him entirely off guard and his head snaps back when it lands squrely where it was aimed. His vision goes dark momentarily and spots blossom in his vision as he stares disbelievingly at the lass. It seems that it's only then that he notices the knife at her hip and his eyes narrow. "Oh, 's tha' how it is, girl? You think you can rob me? You don' know who it is yer dealing with!" he hisses and draws his knife, moving to block the path to the doorway to trap her in the room.
Ealon jerks his hand back from the barmaid's coin purse behind the bar. He appears to look innocent as he notices a worried look over her face. "What noise?" he responds to her question
Maewynne scowls at the Man, drawing her own blade. "Rob you of *what?*" She tenses, ready for any movement.
Ealon perks his ears to the doorway and shrugs helplessly. "I don't hear anything," he says to the barmaid.
Krenet holds his knife flat at about waist height, his other hand ready to grapple with her. "Yer the most daft cutpurse I've ever met. My -coin-, you daft wench! Now c'mere, 's time I bleed you a little," he sneers, advancing a step.
Phaerel sees the stranger's back, and begins drawing a dagger just as his vision begins to blur...
Ealon continues to hear the scuffle going on in the back. He shrugs to the barmaid to appear innocent as he waits for another opportunity at her coin purse. He taps his fingers along the counter as he sips his ale. He sighs as the barmaid persists at him to investigate. He reluctantly gets up from his stool and makes his way into the back, peering searchingly through the area
Maewynne lunges towards Krenet, glancing to his blade for only a moment before twisting to the side. She wraps her arm around his shoulder, looking almost as if she's embracing him as she grabs a fistful of his grease-clotted hair. "I'm no robber, sir. But I believe you're just the one I've hunted." She yanks his hair as hard as she can to jerk his head back and swiftly draws her dagger to his throat.
Ealon continues to hear comotion through the hallways. "Hello?" He softly calls out so as not to draw so much attention.
Phaerel leans to the wall, dagger in hand, consciousness slipping away as he fights to stand.
Ealon gives the barmaid a sharp look as she pushes him forward. "Alright," he says in frustration. "I don't know what's going on up there! Don't try and get me killed!"
Krenet almost grins as he is taken into the experienced and certainly firm grasp. His mind was still buzzing from the alcohol, but an experienced man in brawls, he reacts as best he can. He makes a grab for Mae's wrist first, trying to ensure that she doesn't get a chance to move the blade now that it's inches from his neck. At nearly the same time, he leans back, using the only other instument available to him to put some space back between them - a knee, aimed anywhere she'd feel it.
Maewynne grits her teeth as she readies herself for the blow with too little time to aviod it. She looses his hair and resorts to clawing him swiftly across the cheek, hissing in hatred as she shoves herself back a fraction.
Ealon stays put as he hears the scuffle in the next room. He slaps the barmaids hands away from his hips. "Stop pushing me!" he scolds her.
Phaerel slides out of the shadow behind the door, close enough for Maewynne to see, but still silent. Eyes half-closed, sweating, and pale as the moon, he looks incapable of gripping the dagger he weilds for more than a moment.
Maewynne darts her eyes to Phaerel, gasping as she turns back to Krenet just as quickly.
Phaerel sees Ealon in his peripheral vision, and has enough time to give him a pleading look before darkness takes him.
Ealon notices Phaerel as he emanates from the shadows. He pushes the barmaid back into the next room and slides his body against the east wall. He looks at Phaerel and mouths the words. "What is happeing?"
Krenet takes the moment of hesitation to get a good grip on her knife hand, though he seems of equal strength to the girl and is unable to pull it away. Instead he tries to step forward and, ideally push her off balance. He had groaned at the claw across his cheek, three thing red scratches drawing the smallest bit of blood, but the glare on his face indicates he'd hardly felt it.
Ealon curses in frustration as he watches Phaerel fall to the floor. He creeps along toward the doorway, his back against the wall as he breathes in and out slowly.
Maewynne growls beneath her breath and glares into Krenet's eyes. Her fingers press the blade into the flesh of his neck, nimble even though her wrist can't move. Her other hand balls into a fist that she recklessly launches into his gut. "Pipeweed. Tell me or I'll kill you. The cure. NOW."
Ealon peers around the corner of the wall, as he hears two individuals in the next. He's unable to identify them as he looks frantically at Phaerel on the floor.
Krenet grunts and slumps a bit at the punch that goes unhindered to his gut. The heavy knife he'd been holding in his free hand clatters to the floor. At the mention of 'pipeweed', his eyes widen a bit, staring at her over the knife pressed to his throat. He appears confused for a moment, not sure what it was he was dealing with at all any more. He swings his leg out to the side and pivots, pulling back to afford him the space as he could feel the edge where her knife had drawn blood. He uses his hold on her wrist to try and shove her away, ideally tripping her over his other foot, though all he cares about at this point is trying to get the blade away from his neck.
Ealon checks around the corner again. He takes a deep breath as he sneaks over toward, Phaerel's body. He keeps to the wall as he observes the back of a man's back, still unable to identify the other member.
Maewynne yelps as she staggers back over his foot, dragging her blade across his skin in a shallow furrow. She falls to her rear with a sound thunk and in rage buries her blade as hard as she can with both hands into the toe of his shoe. "Tell me!"
Ealon slowly reaches under Phaerel's arms as he gently lifts hims up. Ealon begins to drag Phaerel's body away from the comotion and into the tavern room.
Phaerel stirs at being moved, but does not wake.
Krenet clenches his jaw and curses between his clenched teeth, first as the blade bites just deep enough into his skin to let him know very plainly where it'd been. He cries out loudly as the blade lands with a solid "thunk" directly through his boot. He swings a fist at Mae's head, pain blinding any thought besides getting the woman to back away.
Ealon taps the barmaid on the shoulder. "Watch over him." He then looks over the barmaid's question. "He's a kin of mine, just watch over him." He proceeds to move back into the other, his back against the east wall.
Maewynne tries to dodge the blow, grabbing for any purchase she can find. Her fingers snag his belt, tearing away his leather travel bag. It falls useless to the floor beside him. She reels as his knuckles graze her scalp but persists. With a sharp cry she twists her knife in his boot. "Tell me. The. Cure."
Phaerel regains a tiny bit of consciousness, and begins to crawl back toward the room.
Ealon moves over across the doorway and into the shadows. He crouches down as he observes the fight between the two individuals. He is able to identify a male and female. He squints and peers at the female for a moment. "Mae?.." he whispers to himself.
Phaerel staggers into the doorway behind the bar, and realizes that he's dropped his dagger on the other side of the room, where he was pulled away by Ealon.
Krenet cries out in pain as the blade is twisted in his boot, his instinct to pull his foot away from the pain... making him yell that much louder. "Cure!" he exclaims, sounding apalled. His only care is the bloody knife in his foot! He tries again to get her to back away, dropping to one knee now and making a grab for her hair while swinging another loose fist.
Ealon blinks at Phaerel. He motions with his hand to halt and then motions it toward the other wall opposite of him. He slides Phaerel's dagger toward the opposit wall for him to pick up. He mouths the words to him, "Mae?" as a curious look floods his face.
Phaerel holds the wall for support, and moves to the corner of the room.
Maewynne wrenches her blade from his boot with a howl as he grabs her hair. She narrows her eyes at him, bleeding hatred as his fist checks against her cheekbone. She spits at him. "I WILL kill you. The cure. To the poisoned weed."
Phaerel gropes for the dagger on the floor, but as he reaches down, he begins to lose consciousness again.
Ealon recognizes the female's voice. "Mae," he says. He reaches into his side pocket as he cups a small tablet and grinds it into his palm. He creeps toward the males, his back toward him.
Krenet cries out agian in pain when the knife is drawn from his mutilated foot, blood already seeping to fill the slash. He throws her back, releasing the grip on her hair and making a grasp for her knife instead with both hands, trying to wrench it from her grasp. As he struggles with her, he hisses at her in acid tones, "Even if you had enough kingsfoil, the honey you need is far East. Ye'd never make the journey, wench!"
Maewynne gasps, her eyes wide as she sees Ealon in the doorway. Distracted, her fingers stumble on her blood-slicked dagger. It falls to the floor softly.
Ealon shouts toward the strange man to get his attention. His right hand grinding the tablet in his palm.
Krenet picks up the blood slicked blade from the ground, the dagger trembling in his hands. He fails to hear the man behind him, his hate-filled stare focused on the girl that had destroyed his foot! He steadies the knife and prepares to strike, still unaware of anyone behind him.
Ealon extends his right palm toward the man's eyes. He blows furiously as he lets loose the powder from his palm toward the man's eyes.
Maewynne cringes back from Krenet, suddenly frightened for the first time. She darts her eyes to Ealon madly for only a moment.
Krenet inhales in surprise as he see's sudden movement from the corner of his eyes. He squeezes his eyes shut as they almost immediately begin burning. With a cry of pain and frustration, his thoughts turn to escape. He stabs Mae's dagger forward wildly, hoping to at least bloody the girl a little. The blade jars as it meets its unintentional mark, contacting and sliding between two of her ribs, though the stab was low and rather shallow.
Ealon watches as the man frantically tries to escape, he steps back a bit as he looks at Maewynne on the ground. He extends his hand toward Mae, "Come on!" he shouts frantically toward her. His eyes widen as the dagger strikes at her chest. Time seems to pause as silence fills the room.
Phaerel stumbles into the doorway, sweating profusely with the effort of movement, and falls to one knee. He drops the dagger again, and his eyes try to close.
Maewynne looks to Krenet with huge eyes, silent and unmoving as the dagger splits her skin. She glances down at her own knife and looks genuinely confused as a tiny speck of blood bubbles on her lips.
Krenet stands up immediately after - he could have stabbed the floorboards for all he was aware. He staggars back against the door, rubbing at his eyes to try and restore some vision at least, and unsuccessfully.
Maewynne looks up to Ealon and blinks, then to Phaerel. She coughs lightly and looks again to the hilt that's somehow attached to her dress, which is now turning a deep crimson.
Ealon stares up at Mae as he sees her confused look. His hand still reaching out toward her as he remains still
Krenet rolls into the hallway, trying to blindly find his way back outside and away, unsure who their company was, but knowing they were danger. He runs directly into Phaerel on his blind exit, falling over the man and hitting the floor hard.
Maewynne fumbles at her dagger, as if she's trying to draw it from the sheath at her hip.
Krenet struggles to his feet, the blood seeping from his boot leaving very clear bloody footprints on the dark wood on his way to the door.
Phaerel falls to both knees in front of his love. "...Maewynne..."
Maewynne looks blankly to the bag Krenet left on the floor and then to Phaerel, her lips twisting to a slight smile. Blood stains her teeth as she tries to say something in reply to him.
Ealon catches Mae as she stumbles to the ground. He hoists her up and carries her to the bed. The barmaid runs into the room, "Call for help!" he shouts at her. Many patrons begin to surround the doorway as he puts pressure on the bleeding wound.
Maewynne limply clings to consciousness, each exhalation blowing a mist of crimson. She smiles to Ealon softly as she slips away, whispering, "Tricks."