Wolf, Songbird, and Salamander

[Ladd Russo of the Russo Family]

Devshiva started off, his pale eyes taking note of Dodger's sickness and the two captured men's frivilous use (or in the case of the darker Whitte, lack thereof) of the water given. The songbird seemed to think it better for a morning wash. It was true that much of the swamp was drinkable if one knew the area, but that was it. One had to know the area, and know the if and when. And even benign water could have an ill effect on foreigners. He was not surprised the songbird was sick (Lady knew what he had been doing the days before), but he'd keep an eye on him until they got into town. If they passed out from dehydration, they would be dragged.

Adra, Lerag, and the others were dressed now and ready. She had a squirming leech, roughly a finger's length, pinched by the tail, and she ran it down Whitte's neck. Playing, he knew. A leech would have a hard time suckering onto anything like that, and even then Whitte would have a minute or two to peel it off before it started biting. But Adra played. They all did.

"Hungry, Drylander?" she said to Dodger, over Whitte's shoulder, laughing. "The swamp's hungry too. Do we make a breakfast out of it for you or a breakfast out of you for them?"

Under his mask, he laughed quietly and shook his head, leading their march off of high land.

[Arual]

Whitte gave a small smile, humor to the girl even if it wasn't that funny to begin with. If it had been anything seriously poisonous then he would have become quite concerned. His dark brown eyes seemed to ease when she posed the question. "Well, I think it's quite obvious we'd all prefer eating it, not vise versa." Almost a laugh, not quite.

The leech that had been put onto Whitte's neck was now burning to a crisp in the palm of his hand. it was done in a matter of seconds."This cant be good to have hanging around." he mumbled intentionally, a tad sarcastic. Leeches weren't exactly his weakness; particularly not after a two week journey where he became more acquainted with nature than he had been for a while. Whitte then brushed his hands off from the small bit of remains and adjusted his bow strap.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

"Well I haven't eaten in longer than I'd like..." he muttered, looking around, "And so far everything seems to be going less than satisfactorily." at the sight of Whitte using magic he gained a thin lipped, uncomfortable expression. He had magic... he probably couldn't be trusted. He knew not everyone was like that, that it was just in Virisea but it was hard to push past that. He didn't enjoy conversing with Viserenes in Vundarst or with any number of magic users he'd encountered... and he didn't expect to be okay with them any time soon.

Still. He needed to find a cure.

[Ladd Russo of the Russo Family]

Adrarda clapped like a delighted child. "Fireworks for me, Sarnian? she exclaimed. "Oh Geral, I never knew. All that fancy arrow-work, so where does a man find the time?"

"Not in the bed of a woman, Arda," the deep voiced man laughed. "I think you realize there is a spear trembling to dance with you and your friend's guts if you try any of that too creatively, Drylander." He and she shared a glowing look through the shadowy eyes of their masks. It should be noted that sometime in the night, Adra had re-streaked hers with fresh blood.

Devshiva heard the supposedly amused clap, three and two, a mage. So Whitte could use magic. An assassin, then, it became more likely. Mages rarely traveled so plainly. And yet town came soon. He had a lot to think on.



When they reached the little town, called Edgewater, the sun was a watery white circle directly in the center of a gloomy white sky. Houses, more like huts, were made from reed and dried mud bricks, and planking ran up and down the place (maybe twenty or thirty houses) in narrow but relatively clean little roads, raised up of the wet. Most of the town was packed for some more stability. Doors were only a secure cloth, most of them open during the day, and many of the shops simply did away with walls in favor of an open-air market.

People of all shapes and sizes wore white masks of many designs; only children under half a tenthyear did not. Their proximity to the border could also be seen in the rare dark heads in the group, some warm browns and even a black haired person showing their familiarity to other races. Nevertheless, a good group flocked to the town entrance to greet the newcomers.

"We heard of you," said a woman. A group of older women were at the front, clucking. "Come along, come along, let's get you some food."

"Maybe a bath?"

"Those clothes are filthy."

Soon the group was inside a house, with all of these happening. Bath water took a while to heat, however, and no one wanted to eat naked, so a big steaming plate of mushrooms and fish was served with something that almost certainly alcoholic, if not very much so. All of their guards had disappeared, except for Devshiva, who had been reluctantly gathering in to join them. Mask off, he ate without comment and kept his eyes down.

[Arual]

They didn't suspect anything, good. Whitte kept silent after that, following the guards to the city.

Seeing the old ladies that greeted them, and walking into the city had put him inwardly on edge. Something seemed funny about it all. the food smelt relatively good, and he stood in a corner of the room. The drink...well, lets just say he wasn't going to be too encouraged to consume it by the smell it gave off. The last time he had a bath was a few days ago, but he could now feel the heavy dirt caked onto his skin from the time between this and the last rest stop he had taken on his own. It seemed like they treated everyone else well enough though.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

"Food would be really good!"

"It feels like ages since I've had a good bath!"

"Hey, they're not that bad!"

And overall he reacted in kind towards all of the kindness given, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth and judge it all too harshly. The town wasn't as clean in it's architecture, nor did it look as sturdy or permanent but he was just glad to be in a town for once. He wouldn't necessarily call it a city... there weren't many things he'd associated with a city... the large stone walls and the bustling about- though considering the location it wasn't all too suprising. Still, in his mind it was more of a large town.

When he was presented with food though, he didn't waste his time thinking about the mud houses or things of that sort, rather instead he ate with little to no regard for the other people in the room for his manners as he was quite very hungry and rather thirsty and had no time for such nonsense associated with good manners, though that didn't mean he didn't look graciously to his hosts and remark on the nature of the food's quality which, from his words, was far better than what he would have ever expected and on par with the greatest cuisines ever to be served to any member of a royal household. He actually felt many times more hungry at this moment now that he was presented with food.

[Ladd Russo of the Russo Family]

The compliments and thank yous were well received, by woman and men who smiled to be able to offer some hospitality. Travelers were obviously well appreciated here. Or, well, most travelers. As the two were hurried to a bath-house, with two (count em, two!) whole bathing barrels filled with steaming water, a strange bit of interaction could be picked up between Devshiva and the villagers. It was subtle enough not to be obvious before, but from the way they moved, the glints in their eyes and slips of expression, one began to notice. The people of the town feared him. Where he walked, they cleared a wide way, and their glances toward him were sideways or not at all. No one spoke to him except in respectful whispers to his occasional question. They feared him, but only as much if not less than they pitied him. It was thick in their eyes behind those masks, the pity.

Most got used to the former, but few could get over the stinging needles of the latter. Devshiva kept his head high and his gaze down, eyes like murder.

But for the two captees, the barrels had been painstakingly bought for the town's cleanliness and comfort years before and were now ready for them. Two cakes of soap were there are well, and some young men had laughingly sacrificed some of their clean clothes for the two to borrow while theirs was cleaned and dried. No women were in the bathing room right now.

[Arual]

This was awkward. Nevertheless, he said a 'thank you' and then continued to ignore the laughter. As if it wasn't bad enough, but he realized the difference in treatment. Devshiva's and their's. It was common, however unhappy those men were, and the other feared.

Whitte had bathed, but quickly. How did he know, despite the seemingly kind gestures to the both of them when they were in the mean time being captives, that there wasn't more to it? Better to be safe than sorry... he repeated over again in his head. He got the dirt off, and his head was washed. Clean felt good right now.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

Quietly Dodger began unclothing himself and climbed into the hot water, a sigh escaping his lips, "Now, see... it's the little things you have to appreciate." he muttered before he submerged his face underneath the heat. He didn't comment on the manner in which he was treated or how Devshiva was treated or anyone else- what did it matter to tell them now. If they didn't notice then it was by the merit of their own absentmindedness and if they did then all the more power to them.

Still relishing in the heat of the water, an arm with a fading tan reached out and searched blindly for the soap and once it was located, Dodger reluctantly surfaced to rub the soap into his hair and face, his eyes screwed shut the keep the lather away and his hands rubbed at the grime over his face and his fingernails scratched at his scalp as he attempted cleanliness which would have certainly been a welcome change.

[Ladd Russo of the Russo Family]

The little bathing room was now empty, except for Devshiva who remained. He was calm, mostly. More than used to it, fear and pity alike. Some of the others would not be taking it so well; it was best to keep them away from other people, really. Even having asked them to do so, he would return soon to make sure. No need to disrupt these people's peaceful lives with their presence, or be disrupted in return. Oil and water did not mix.

Unfortunately, Lareg had been full of many interesting ideas lately, and he seemed to forget the current order of command just as often. No, best he check. Chances are if Lareg showed his face, they'd put him down like a mad dog before he had spoken five words. Devshiva supposed he did not want that, not in his troup.

Looking back at the two, he gestured at them to indicate they were the receivers of what he was saying.

"You may stay the night here," he said seriously. "Few things will be denied to you; they welcome Drylanders like the summer rain. Regain your strength. We'll be moving in the morning." With that, he was gone.

[Arual]

Whitte put the fresh clothes on, pulled his weaponry onto his shoulder. He wouldn't leave. It wasn't like there was a choice; however, the knowledge the man gave only was slightly comforting to his ears.

He went back inside the room they had originally went through, and it was almost dead empty. Only the two old women and maybe one or two others inside. Was it them, or this as crazy as business got? He looked around him, standing in place as he waited for the women to finish up their chat with another possible guest or whatnot.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

Meanwhile Dodger was in the right mind to just let himself soak for a while, resting in the water that had turned gray brown with all the dried murk from his skin dispersed into it. He closed his eyes and let his muscles relax further. "You know what, Lander?" he chuckled, "I never thought I'd end up in a place like this." he rested his head on the edge of the tub, his eyes looking up to the ceiling as he spoke, "And I never thought..." he paused, words failing him. "You should be here too. Maybe not miserable- because that's what this damned swamp feels like, misery. We should both be elsewhere." he laughed, "We were going to move to Jenneysburg." he muttered, splashing the water a bit with a hand. "Remember, down on the coast, away from the border... far from all the fighting." he shook his head and sat there for a good number of minutes before he began to pull himself from the water, dressing himself in the clean clothes offered to him. "You know, Lander?" he paused, "Sometimes I just wonder."

It was funny, all those years ago, in the little border town of Borroughbrook he was in love... and then after everything happened... and now. Hilarious. Lander was so religious, Dodger would have been shamed to say what had happened to his own religion in the years... in a way, it had become Lander... hadn't it? In a way. Sure. Dodger paused a moment, hungry again. He wandered back towards the house they were originally housed in, "So!" he said, clapping his hands and rubbing his palms together. "Any idea how long we get to stay here?"

[Ladd Russo of the Russo Family]

The two older woman were now unmasked, sitting in worn but sturdy wooden chairs and weaving what looked like nets as they talked about their day. Their wrinkled faces were cheerful as they shared. A young boy, perhaps a year or so over tenthmark, was bouncing a ball (some leather material stuffed and weighted to keep it bouncy) against the wall, rolling it about with a bored expression, his short light brown hair mussed with sweat and his face sickly, light blue eyes shadowed underneath. He sneezed into a very dirty handkerchief and spent a while making faces of self-pity before bouncing the ball again.

"Na-Chrisin, can I go outside now?" he complained finally, as though it were an enormous elephant in the room. The two ladies laughed. Then they looked at the two strange travelers and laughed again.

"No, you can't," she said, in the tone of saying it for the one thousandth time. Both boy and old woman talked with a very thick, slurred accent. The vowels were strange.

[Arual]

"The night. In the morning we move again." Whitte replied, "It's not very much time, but besides those women over there, everyone else seems to have gone to better ground. He noticed the boy, and could relate.

A memory of when he had just found out his secret, he was under total house arrest, stuck in an isolated room without any contact from another being besides O'Harrah. O'harrah was the oldest man around, he was the first to have this curse...gift, whatever you preferred. He taught Whitte the insides and outs of this potential disaster.


Pulling his attention to Dodger again, he turned his head. "Who were you talking to out there?" he asked, curiously. From what he heard, it sounded like........no. Better to ask (Oh, poor noah at otakon!) than assume.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

"Nobody." he shook his head, droplets of water shedding from his soaked tresses. "I was just thinking, is all. Why? You finding yourself wanting to pick and pry at me?" he laughed slightly "No need to hurry, we'll have plenty of time for words on the road." he waved off Whitte nonchalantly, "Unless you'd rather spend your time talking with me- when there are lovely ladies here to learn from." he smiled to the two elder women and gave a small bow in their direction- apparently finding a reason to put on charm and using it shamelessly. "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart for your hospitality." he spoke with a grin, seemingly forgetting Whitte's presence entirely for those brief moments.