Minas Tirith Marketplace II – Free RP

Seven Stars and Seven Stones and One White Tree.
New Soul
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In the year 420 of the Third Age of Arda, during the reign of the 7th King of Gondor, Osother (T.A. 411-492), Minas Arnor was rebuilt and enlarged. Upon completion, King Osother made Minas Arnor his summer residence. It was during this time that the Marketplace was established on the second level of the White City. During the long years of the Third Age as Minas Tirith grew more prominent, and eventually became the capital of Gondor and seat of its Kings and ruling Stewards, the Marketplace prospered and expanded in accordance with the needs of its citizens.

The Minas Tirith Marketplace, settled between the second gate facing south-east and the third that faces north-east, resembles a massive labyrinth in its design. In its heart is the Vandani Minrimmon Square, named after the Master of Trade who helped to reestablish the Marketplace after the Siege of Minas Tirith. The square is paved with white stone with a bubbling fountain in the centre. Two large buildings dominate the Vandani Minrimmon Square: The Minas Tirith Chamber of Commerce and the Minas Tirith Guild Hall.

Fanning out from the square are a myriad of open and covered streets with a variety of shops and stands. Although the grand market might look confusing to the first time visitor, in reality, the marketplace is easy to navigate. The shops and stalls in the streets are organised by profession and the streets got their names from those professions. Thus the marketplace has a jeweller district, a carpenter district, book district, spices and herbs district etc.

Minas Tirith’s Marketplace is a bustling and lively place, filled with sounds, scents and colours. Items from all over the Reunited Kingdom and beyond can be found here. The luxury and the exotic meet the simple and the everyday objects. The rich and the poor, the young and the old, citizens and foreigners, masters and apprentices, shoppers and shopkeepers, artists and craftsmen mingle together daily, celebrating everyday life and enjoying a day at the Minas Tirith Marketplace.


Thread guidelines


General thread guidelines

  • Canon Characters: All canon characters are open to everyone. If more than one person wants to write the same character, they are free to do so. Any and all duplicates will be considered as existing in different universes and not interfering with each other, unless otherwise agreed upon by the players. Or one of them might be an imposter? A Maia in disguise? Be creative, entertain the TR (she is easily amused).
  • Crossovers with other fandoms are welcome. Please mark that the post is a crossover with the fandom of your choice at the top of your post in bold to avoid confusion and be as creative as you possibly can.
  • Please mark your RP as Private or Open. If you are not certain about the privacy status of an RP and you would like to join, please talk to the RP-er(s) first. Use the Marketplace OOC or the RP Request Form Thread, or Discord/e-mail etc.
  • If you need to make a short OOC comment please write it at the bottom of your post and mark it clearly. Any longer discussion should be taken to the Marketplace OOC thread.
  • Small images (such as character icons) are welcome, but no moving gifs.

Marketplace guidelines regarding shops, timelines et alii.

  • This is a Free RP with a Marketplace theme. You may RP in any Marketplace location or shop (a list of possible locations and shops will be provided in the Repository post below) in any timeline from ab urbe condita (S.A. 3320), rebuilding and expansion of Minas Arnor (T.A. 420), to the current timeline in Gondor (early Fourth Age)… Or anywhere in between and beyond. Please write your location and timeline (e.g. Smith’s Smithy, T.A. 3010) of your post at the top in bold to avoid any confusion.
  • The TR reserves bold red (#FF0000) for occasional (nonobligatory) prompts. You may post in any colour you like, but please refrain from using bright/neon/very light colours as they are difficult to read.
  • Repeat shops/stalls are allowed and encouraged. There can be more than one type of the same shop or stall in the Marketplace: e.g. more than one bakery, carpentry, smithy, apothecary etc.
  • A suggestion regarding apprentices/masters, progressing in your chosen profession and other Marketplace related RP technicalities: if you so desire, please use the Minas Tirith Guild Hall to RP the registration of apprentices, T&C of their work, how their evaluation for advancing in their chosen profession will take place etc. Feel free to RP this process however you like and, invent NPCs etc. Do whatever fits your story while sticking to the thread guidelines.
  • Be creative and have fun!


A huge thank you to @Veowyn who has graciously given me permission to open up a new thread. I hope you'll like the little tribute I made to you and your character. :smooch: A big thank you to @Marceline @Marshall Lee and @Moriel whose thread rules I liberally borrowed and adapted in the creation of this thread. Thank you, you are stars! :smooch:
She/her.
Solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant
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New Soul
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Banner made by @Revered Grandmother

List of possible locations and shops


The list of locations and shops is neither complete nor set in stone. Feel free to make up your own location and shop and NPC(s) for them. They can be temporary (just for your RP needs) or permanent (everyone can use them). Most of the locations and shops are open for anyone to use and have NPCs as proprietors/apprentices/employees. Other shops are owned by members – this will be clearly marked to avoid any possible confusion. If you want to add a location, shop, stall, business or NPC(s) to the repository please tag me here or in the Marketplace OOC.

Minas Tirith Chamber of Commerce – a large stone building with many variously proportioned rooms dominates the Vandani Minrimmon Square. The Chamber of Commerce is the White City’s centre of trade – all day to day business operations and decisions regarding the running of the Minas Tirith Marketplace take place here. Decisions regarding the regulations of weights and measures, marketplace inspectors, business transactions and public notaries who record them, property rent, Marketplace maintenance, business ventures, trade routes and policies etc. are debated and decided in these chambers. Including the King’s upcoming proposal of the Tax Reform Act which has caused quite a stir. However, the Chamber of Commerce has another purpose – it serves as the headquarters for the Minas Tirith Chamber of the Anadûnê Trading Company’s (ATC or simply the Company). The Company consists of 3 surviving Chambers (Pelargir, Minas Tirith and Dol Amroth) and is governed by the Council of 17. Pelargir, as the oldest, has 7 delegates, Minas Tirith 6 and Dol Amroth 4. The 6 delegates of the Council of 17 meet in the Chamber of Commerce to plan the Company’s actions, however, a bitter rivalry exists between Minas Tirith’s and Pelargir’s Chambers, and the walls of this Chamber witnessed plenty of plots and machinations.

Minas Tirith Guild Hall – located next to the Chamber of Commerce on the Vandani Minrimmon Square. The Guild Hall serves as a central archive and a meeting place for all guilds of the artisans, craftspeople and traders. Here an apprentice might seek employment, or arrange the terms and conditions of their apprenticeship with their master. Regular examinations for advancement into the craft are held here. The Guild Masters and full members of the Guilds are responsible for maintaining standards in their chosen profession. All of this is recorded by the Guild’s scribes that maintain the records and Guild archives.

Asëa Aranion Apothecary – the oldest apothecary in Minas Tirith. For centuries it has been run by the Galenus family and is currently run by the Houses of Healing Master Pharmacist Belladonna Galenus (NPC; pronouns she/her; a tall, slim elderly woman with ash-brown hair and green eyes). Although Mistress Belladonna might appear stern and serious, she is a kind soul always willing to help anyone with sage advice, or just a cuppa and chat.

The Harmacy Pharmacy - an "alchemist" shop run by Harm Pharmakus (NPC; pronouns he/him), a man whose eyebrows have been permanently burned off his face. He only accepts payment in the form of goods that can be used as ingredients. Need that elixir? Gonna cost ya a toenail and five drops of blood. He'll give you the sleeping potion, but you need to bring him a pound of death caps as payment. (Many thanks to Frost and Aduchil)

Frangipani Perfumery and Cosmetics – as you look through the large display windows at the inside of the Frangipani you might think you have stumbled upon the apothecary. However, once you look closely and especially when you open the door you will quickly be disabused of that idea, for this shop is a beauty and skincare delight. The Frangipani family has owned the shop for centuries and produced perfumes and cosmetics for royalty, nobility and the common people. The Frangipani caters to all, and one can find a myriad of perfumes, cremes, lotions, essences, toners, pots with rouge and kohl pencils for the eyes. The current “nose” is Vanya Frangipani (NPC; pronouns they/them; typical Gondorian look) who is responsible for the delightfully complex and intricate scents in delicate coloured and colourless glass bottles. Their sister Lisa Frangipani (NPC; pronouns she/her; typical Gondorian look) is the chemist and formulator behind several popular Frangipani products.

Minas Tirith’s Great Bakery – the largest bakery in the City, produces thousands of loaves of bread that are distributed to the citizens.

Şeker Aga – a sweet shop tucked in a secluded corner of the “food district” that offers a mix of traditional Gondorian and Haradrim sweets. From pepper honey biscuits and bear paws made with walnuts and honey, to baklava, rāḥat al-ḥulqūm, a variety of şekerleme and to the delight of children dondurma – a mastic ice cream. Şeker Aga was founded in T.A. 3005 by Osman Gaziantep who emigrated with his family (wife Safiye, sons Ozan and Umut and daughter Zehra) from Harrad to Minas Tirith. A chance encounter with another emigrant, the physician Iskandar al-Samarkandi cemented a friendship and brought the Gaziantep family the patronage of several healers and helped them rise to prominence in the sweet district. Threadrunner note: the Gaziantep family are NPCs for all to use, although they (will) play minor roles in several of my character’s storylines.

Smith’s Smithy run by Smithy McSmithface – Finest Blacksmith in all of Gondor! Or is he?

Ironclad Armor and Weapons (and misc. metalworks) – as the shop was named before the War of the Ring, was ran by Damion Dringolben who was one of the best smiths in the area. The shop features a uniquely white clay forge, which was built with elven technology, and founded in TA 2615. It has since then passed from father to son, each generation maintaining a high standard to produce only the finest weapons, armor, and other forged creations. After the War, and the death of Damion, the shop name changed, along with the “owner”. It is now known as Truesteel Armour and Weapons and is run by NPC Ramdir – an “okay” smith who is renting the forge and shop from the widow Maeth Dringolben. (Rillewen’s shop and characters.)

Hides and Seek Leatherworks - Run by Aeron, (Rillewen's shop and character)
Upon entering this shop, you can find rows of shelves containing all sorts of leather items ranging from purses and bags of all styles, sheaths and holders for a variety of weapons, jackets, jerkins, hair accessories, and just about any other sort of leather item you can think of, except for armor. (he leaves the armor making to the armorors) There are bundles of leather strips for sale, as well as other items made from animal parts, such as bone, horn, antler, etc. Shoes and boots form an army upon the lowest shelves against the walls. Un-cut belts, waiting to be custom fit to the buyer, hang in neat rows just above them, and hats hang from hooks positioned just above these.
Toward the back of the shop you will find larger items such as saddles resting on stands, and beyond these are tall shelves holding rolled-up sheets of leather, stacked neatly by type, for those who wish to make their own things. Nearby, one can also find a large bin filled with scrap pieces of varying sizes at a bargain price. Against the back wall, one can also find furs and pelts of various kinds for sale. There are products made from them on display, such as fur-lined cloaks, hats, etc. On the other side of the counter, kept safe from customer's reach, are rows of leather stamps, cutting tools, punches, and other tools of the trade, assembled over generations of leather crafters who have come before.
One can usually find Aeron at work on some project at his workbench behind the counter, though you can expect a friendly greeting upon entering. If you would like some help finding something to suit your needs, he will be happy to help, and is also willing to offer his expert advice to any novice leather DIYers who need a little help, whether it's figuring out what kind of leather to buy, or understanding how to do something. He will also take custom orders.

Clothes Minded Individuals – an out of the way clothing shop that sells rare fabrics. The owner is a mysterious and mercurial woman known as “The Shopkeeper”. If you know, you know. (Frost’s character and shop.)

The Sword and the Scone – a small, intimate coffee shop selling baked goods with tea and coffee. The owner is Walpurga, a young Rohir who recently came to Minas Tirith. (Frost’s character and shop.)

Wood Works - a carpenter's shop for carpentry of some kind; owned by two veteran rangers: Addhor and Narradir. (Ercassie's characters and shop.)

Needful Things - run by Ann Other (Ercassie's character and shop.)

Nell's Bread and Pastries - a warm and cheery artisan bakery owned by Nelladel Alarion. (Isolde's character and shop.)

Monstrum in fine Libri - a large almost barn-like structure (that might be bigger on the inside) containing a wealth of incredibly rare and expensive books (and maybe a few cursed ones tucked away in hidden corners) for sale to the discerning reader and collector. Owned by Curunis a wizened crone from down south. (Frost’s character and shop.)

Liriel and Eradan's Grocery shop - If you haven't 'heard' of it, you have never been to the Marketplace. (Windy's NPCs)

Amlaith's Clay Pipes - Intricate and functional designs, hand made by father and daughter. (Windy's NPCs)

The Royal Veterinary Hospital



Marketplace repository

She/her.
Solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant
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Steward of Gondor
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Joined: Wed Sep 01, 2021 10:12 pm
(Continued from here)

@Lailyn
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Strawberry
In the empty Blacksmith's shop - Confronted by Hathaldir

The sound of the knife hitting the floor drew her attention; Strawberry couldn't pass up that opportunity. She was all too aware that she had none of her usual weapons, and with a guard chasing her she'd definitely feel better having at least that knife, even if it wasn't that great. Before it had time to skid across the floor, it had been scooped up and was gripped in her hand. But now her escape was blocked. In the few seconds it took her to pause and snatch the knife from the floor, the guard had found his feet and moved to block her exit. Skidding to a stop, Strawberry thought swiftly about her options.. she could fight her way out maybe; but she'd rather not have to if there was any other option. Was there another way out of here? She hadn't noticed any, much to her dismay. Which meant that she'd have to fight, and preferably knock him out so he couldn't chase her, as that would obviously draw more attention and more guards and...

"You’ve proven your point. I won’t arrest you…”

What was that he just said? Strawberry blinked, thinking for sure that she'd heard him wrong. She hesitated, watching him a bit suspiciously as he suggested working out a deal to benefit them both. What? She was quite confused; guards didn't act like this. Was he really a guard? He wore the uniform, but maybe he stole it? She was pleased to note that her kick had made his nose bleed... served him right. But she didn't take the time to relish the sight of it. She was more curious about what he'd just said, and wondering whether he was really a guard, and if so, why he was saying what he just said. Turning a blind eye, not arresting her.. making a deal? Was this a trap?

"What are you talking about?" She questioned, still wary. He promised he wouldn't underestimate her again, and she rather doubted that... she'd dealt with others far more intimidating, and more of them at a time, before. Of course, she could always get hurt, and she might be underestimating him, in turn. She doubted it, and felt sure she could probably get past him if she tried.. but the thought of getting out without having to fight, without having to worry that he'd call for backup... she tilted her head warily, a bit curious what sort of 'favor' he had in mind. "What sort of favor?" She narrowed her eyes. If he was one of those guys, she might just cut off a certain body part just to teach him a lesson. Then, with slight smirk of amusement, she added, "If you're going to ask me for something to wipe your nose with, I'm going to have to tell you No."
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Ent Ancient
Points: 2 696 
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Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 11:34 pm
Hathaldir
Blacksmith’s Shop
With Strawberry
(@Rillewen)

“If I asked you to wipe my nose, I expect you’d only slit my neck.” The expression that passed over his face said he looked at her as if she were the scum of the earth or the dirt that got stuck in between the paving stones on the streets. “No doubt you would jump at the chance to do so.”

The girl seemed wary and suspicious. Of course, a conniving, slinking thief would know one can never be too careful. It was prudent to be cautious and ask questions. At least her hesitance showed she was somewhat intelligent. That would prove useful. He wondered how far he could press her to do what he asked and if she would do it at all.

Regardless, Hathaldir despised her already for the criminal she was. She deserved to be holed up in a cell or worse for what she had done just like all the others. Yet, what he stood to gain in this meeting was undeniable. Whatever luck made their paths cross after the awful day he’d had, when he thought the whole endeavor of this job was a waste of time, here he was presented with an opportunity too good to pass up. He suddenly thought himself very clever, becoming a Tower Guard. It gave him access and authority he would not otherwise have. He just had to lure her in and he was in the perfect position to do so.

“Believe me when I say I would like to see you in the chains you deserve, but there are other things I would like to see even more,” he growled. “I’m sure you can imagine what someone with power inside the Tower Guard can do for you.” He proceeded to illuminate her nonetheless. Draw her in, make the offer, then lead her along into his grasp until he molded her into a tool. “I can help you fade away and slip the Guards’ notice. I can feed rumors and make a report that will take them off your tail. I can tell them I saw you leaving the city, or somewhere outside it and you were too quick to catch. If you want it, I can give you freedom from your past.” He laced his words with silky smoothness, seeking to paint a picture she could not deny and waved his hand, as if to erase the list of misdeeds she had done so easily.

“None of this comes from my good will, of course,” he explained as if she were the child he first encountered here. “You must earn it. In exchange for my generosity, you will help me obtain something that is held under strict lock and key.” He was not prepared to give specifics yet. “I can help you get in. If that goes well, perhaps there are more tasks you may complete for me that may someday even lead to your...exoneration.” Hathaldir risked a step toward her, bowing his head in her direction and allowing the final word to hover in the air and entice her.

“But let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. What do you say?”

Pinning her with his dark eyes unblinking, Hathaldir held himself still and steady against the driving restlessness at having to wait for her answer. He hated waiting and giving anyone else power over him even more than he hated killers and thieves and he willed her to make this easy and agree. Blood continued to trickle down his chin, staining the clean white emblem of Gondor that decorated his chest and marked him as a man who was clearly worthy of respect and obeisance. The blood told a different story. He did not wipe it nor seek to staunch it nor pinch his temple at the persistent pain there but remained as he was with his attention fixed wholly on the girl.

Steward of Gondor
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@Lailyn
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Strawberry
In the empty Blacksmith's shop - with Hathaldir

Strawberry was mildly irritated by the man's comment. As if she were a coldblooded murderer. She wanted to tell him that she'd never murdered anyone, and that she tried to avoid killing anyone if she could help it. Bandits didn't exactly count, of course, but people like him, despite the fact they were her enemies, trying to capture her and bring her to her enemy... she'd knock them out before she'd kill them, and only kill as a last resort. But she didn't know how to put all that, and doubted he'd believe any of it anyway. Besides that, he kept on talking before she had a chance to say anything of the sort, and so she just stood quietly, arms folded loosely as she listened. Her eyes grew narrower as he made his proposition, without making any secret of the fact that he wanted to see her in chains. Not just a cell... in chains. That alone made her highly distrustful of him, and she found him despicable. He didn't know anything about her and he wanted her to be tormented...

But his words couldn't help but catch her interest. The things he suggested that he could do sounded quite appealing... freedom from her past? Could he do that? Was that really possible? Of course, she knew from the start he was going to want something in return. He still hadn't gotten around to explaining what this favor was that he wanted. Those words rang in her ears.. freedom from her past. Whatever that might be... she would like that. But she didn't know if it was possible... he probably didn't know if it was, either... it occurred to her he was probably making empty promises, just trying to get her interested. And she couldn't help but be interested, though she felt skeptical about the whole thing. Still... maybe it was possible. The man was a guard, apparently... maybe he had connections somehow.

And then he finally revealed what this mysterious favor was. She blinked, and very nearly laughed. Put simpy, he wanted her to steal something. What an easy task to give her! Amused at the irony of a guard asking her to steal something, she kept quiet as she processed it all, listening to him still talking. Saying how he could give her more tasks, which might eventually lead to her exoneration. He said it as if this was supposed to be some grand thing he might grant her, but Strawberry just stood silently, watching blank-faced as he took a step toward her. She was very tempted to ask what exoneration meant... was that a good thing or a bad thing? She wanted to know what that meant... was it a fancy way of saying that she might get executed, or something else? Why couldn't he talk plainly? She considered asking him to explain what he meant. But, not wanting to appear like she might be stupid, she decided to keep quiet, try to remember the word, and ask her friend what it meant, later.

In the meanwhile, she eyed the changed distance between herself and the guard now that he had stepped closer. Strawberry remained where she was, not moving, keeping her arms in their folded position... though still loose enough that she could strike at a second's notice if necessary. She deemed that he was still far enough away that she was in little danger of being grabbed or attacked, for if he made a move to do that, she ought to have enough time to slip out of the way. Yet, at the same time, they were close enough that she could easily leap the distance and strike him, though he probably wouldn't expect her to be able to. It was a habit of hers to take notice of, and be mindful about distance like that, though she didn't know where such a habit had come from. In fact, she didn't know where she had learned these skills, but she regularly thanked whoever had taught them to her, for it had saved her life many times over.

"What do you say?"

Strawberry wondered what he'd do if she told him no. She still felt that she could get out of here without too much trouble. He seemed to think he could threaten her with his sword, but there wasn't really enough room in here for him to properly use that thing, and if he tried to use it, he'd soon find that she was far quicker. With a couple of moves, she could probably put him on the ground and knock him out, and then be on her way. But she had lost her hat, she remembered. Getting out of the city might not be so easy, at least until she had another hat, or disguise. And in the meanwhile, she had quite a few jewels on her, and she was sure the jeweler must have noticed them missing by now... Tilting her head, she pretended to consider the proposition for a moment. It wouldn't do to appear too eager, after all. "I'll think about it." She answered at last. "What is it you want me to get for you? And why?" The why mattered a lot to her, and she wondered if he'd be willing to answer that. He seemed more the type to get angry at her for asking, so she added, "If the reason doesn't agree with me, I'll have to turn you down." Her tone, with that, was quite cold and unwavering.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Ent Ancient
Points: 2 696 
Posts: 1830
Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 11:34 pm
Hathaldir
Truesteel Armour and Weapons
With Strawberry
(@Rillewen)

The girl’s eyes roved toward the door. He watched her calculate the distance, assuming she would pause to stab him along the way. Let her try. He had bested better foes and dark things that crawled out of nightmares and terrorized even the most gallant of men. A little girl was no trouble at all and he half expected her to dart forth at any moment.

Hathaldir was hardly prepared when she casually voiced her consideration. Perhaps he had been thoroughly convincing in his efforts to help her clear her name. One way or the other, he didn’t really care as long as he got the records he was after. If it took a little deceit and some crooked dealings, then so be it. Her final words were firm and resolute, concealing the interest he sensed in her. He held back a wrathful grin of triumph, but it toyed at his lips nonetheless. How satisfying it was to press someone under your thumb and twist and turn them into submission.

A laugh began deep in his gut and climbed up, wrenching free in her face. “Do you expect me to believe that you, a dirty little thief, follow some kind of moral code? I’m not telling you anything else just yet. Do you take me for a fool? If you’re interested in clearing your name, meet me at the library tomorrow night one hour before closing. There are private rooms there where we can discuss your favor behind closed doors. If you see the posters bearing your face have been removed, then you will know I have kept my end of the bargain and I expect you to do the same.”

Footsteps sounded, drumming in his ear and driving a wedge of pain deeper and deeper in his head. He paced away from the girl in time to see the blacksmith returning, who did not miss a beat and narrowed his eyes at the sight of blood on Hathaldir’s uniform. “What’s going on here? Can I help you?”

Hathaldir held his arms up to placate him. “No. I was just leaving. I caught a thief in your shop and though I managed to stop him from stealing from you, he got the better of me.” He brushed his hand over his stained jacket to emphasize the lie and risked a quick glance of subtle warning Strawberry’s way. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone,” he told Ramdir. “I was taken by surprise at the force of his arm and I wouldn’t want my fellow guards to think less of me.” He forced his shoulders to slump as if he were ashamed. “I give you my word I will not stop until I have found him. This girl here,” he gestured at Strawberry, “was a bit distraught by it all and I was concerned for her welfare. If you are feeling better now, miss, we can both be on our way and let the blacksmith get on with his day.” Hathaldir turned to grin at her with a predatory gleam in his eyes that was at odds with the false silkiness he wove into his words for her. It said cooperate or else.

High Warden of Tower
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Nell's Breads and Pastries
@Isolde Alarion

Boredom. The word seemed to have been erased from Pele's vocabulary a long time ago, but for one reason or another she now found herself a bit bored - she had been talked into taking a day - or a few - off, and it was a good enough reason to be bored.

And so it happened that the first thing that came into her mind was to come looking for some treat at Nell's place, and perhaps for a bit of a light-hearted chat to go with that.

"Anyone here?" she called, as soon as she had stepped into the bakery. "Product deliciousness inspection! Present your wares to be tested!"

She stood in the middle of the shop, hands on hips in a demanding manner, as if she were indeed to conduct a proper inspection. However, the merry glint in her eyes dispelled any seriousness her stance and grim face wished to convey.
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Steward of Gondor
Points: 5 582 
Posts: 2650
Joined: Wed Sep 01, 2021 10:12 pm
@Lailsheenbo
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Strawberry
Truesteel Armor and Weapons - with Hathaldir

Strawberry had expected irritation on his part, perhaps annoyance that she wanted to know why he wanted this thing stolen. The last thing she expected was laughter, though she should have considered it might happen. Her green eyes narrowed a bit at his words and anger boiled in her veins. He had no idea what she was like, or what things mattered to her, or.. any of that. He had no right to assume anything about her. She was sorely tempted to kick him in the groin for that comment, it irritated her so much. Maybe the chin. She could break his jaw. She'd even settle for a busted lip to match his nose. But then... that was childish behavior, and she was better than that. She inhaled slowly and counted in her head to ten before letting it out. Her grip let up slightly on the knife she held still, and she made an effort to relax her shoulders a little.

Many things rushed to her mind, that she'd like to say to him. About how he shouldn't act like he was better than her, when he was the one asking her to steal something. That made him little better than a thief himself, after all... even worse, in her eyes. He didn't even have the guts to do it himself, he wanted to get her to do all the risk and the work of stealing the thing. Besides that, at least Strawberry owned up to the fact she was a thief. This guard, whoever he was, seemed to think if he didn't actually steal the thing, he wouldn't be the one guilty of the theft, or something like that.. as if he was still innocent and righteous. That wasn't at all how Strawberry saw it, and she wanted to tell him something to that effect.

But she didn't have time. She heard footsteps approaching, and made a guess that it was the blacksmith returning. The knife seemed to vanish from her hand, slipping up under her sleeve, out of sight. A pure instinct reaction, done almost subconsciously. "What room in the liberry?" She asked swiftly and softly, refraining from a sigh, though her tone was a bit terse. "How will I find the right one?" She frowned, being completely unfamiliar with such places as a library, and felt a twinge of frustration that he would have to pick that place, of all the places he could've chosen in this city.. why the library?

As the smith appeared, Strawberry tensed again and glanced at the guard, alarmed at the fact he immediately spoke of catching a thief here. Then his tale veered from the truth and she blinked, slowly breathing easier once again. She struggled to hide a smirk at the part about the thief 'getting the better of him'. That was absolutely true, she thought, stifling a snicker with some difficulty. "This girl here was a bit distraught by it all and I was concerned for her welfare," the lie was stretched quite far... Strawberry was quite unprepared for that. Distraught? She had absolutely no idea how to act distraught. She didn't get distraught, she was pretty sure, and felt pretty confident in saying she'd never been distraught in her life. Though, of course, she couldn't be sure about anything before about a year ago.

"Uh, yes. It was quite...distraughtful." She agreed, a little awkward about that, as well as unsure how to actually say that. "I came to ask about having some work done, but.. I think I'll come back another day. It was all very frightening." She added. "I thought this guard was going to get hurt very badly, for a moment there." She cast a sidelong glance toward him, wondering if he'd catch what she meant there, before continuing, "And then the thief just.. slipped away. But I don't think he took anything, this guard here came along just in time." She forced a smile as she started for the door, though paused to glance back. "Aren't we lucky to have such a brave and honest man on the Watch?" She asked with another glance with barely concealed contempt toward the rather dishonest guard, hoping very much he'd catch the sarcasm which she concealed for the smith's sake. With that she slipped out and swiftly headed away, intending to slip off out of sight as quickly as possible.

(continued here)
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Oct 09, 2021 4:13 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Hathaldir
Truesteel Armour and Weapons to the streets


Hathaldir gambled that the blacksmith would believe his story and the girl would play along to save her own skin. It paid off. Even if it hadn’t, he was certain no one would believe the word of a distraught girl over that of a Tower Guard. When she mentioned that he had almost been badly injured, the only sign of his irritation was the clenching of his fist. He bit his tongue to stop himself from lashing out at her. However, she performed rather well, though he supposed he should not be surprised given her list of crimes. It would take a bit of deceit and manipulation to pull off the things she had.

The veiled insult rolled off him like water on rock though it might have barbed him once. No one had called Hathaldir brave or honest in many years, even in irony as she had, and he knew that no one ever would again. He had strayed too far off the path years ago and now there was no turning back. There was a kind of peace in accepting his true nature and the cards that life had dealt him, leading him here.

After the girl left, Hathaldir lingered long enough to reassure the blacksmith the thief would be caught and he would do everything he could to see it done. Lying through his teeth yet again. The harried tone that crept into his voice did not need faking. It was fitting for both a guard who had been bested by a thief and one who wanted to get the hell out of there and ease the pain in his head. He requested a quill and whatever writing material Ramdir had on hand in such an urgent and self-important manner the man could not possibly refuse. Soon, the blacksmith was satisfied and Hathaldir was shielding his eyes as he stepped outside into the bright city streets.

At last, he allowed himself a groan that did little to ease his pain, bringing his hand to his temple and kneading it. Narrowing his eyes and fighting a new wave of nausea, he forced himself to focus on the direction he thought the thief had gone. He clutched a slip of parchment in his hands as he embarked on a search for the thief.

There was one last thing he had to say to her but he did not want to be seen with her again for fear of drawing any suspicion. When he spied her head of flaming red hair, he slowed his pace and meandered toward her. As he passed her by, he coughed into his fist to get her attention, holding out the scrap of parchment for her to take. Once it disappeared from his fingers, he moved on and left the market behind before some other thief or screaming woman stalled him from a desperately-needed dram of whiskey or two. Then, he would set about tearing down some posters under the cover of darkness.
---
When opened, the note would read: Do something about your hair. There is an herbalist down the street. Find some way to change it unless you want to be found.

You will know which room to choose because I will be in it. Don’t be late.

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The discordent 'music' had reached in this direction as well, as this was the way the 'man' had left the scene. Too far from the library to be aware of what was taking place, people were still affected by the music, even though they had no clue that this was the reason for their gloomy and agitated moods. Stall and shop owners went about opening up for the morning, snapping at each other and grumbling curses under their breaths.

Her bare feet slapping on the cobblestones went unheard, drowned out by the noise of shops and stalls being opened and wooden cartwheels rumbling over the stones. She went unseen, nobody caring about a child running down the road, dodging the carts and horses as she flitted in and out as she tried to avoid it all. It had gotten far busier than when she had first stepped outside, finding it harder and harder to keep up the frantic pace with which she was careening down the road. The outraged cries when she accidently brushed against someone, only made her run faster, her eyes still streaming with tears that made it harder and harder to see where she was going.

She had no idea where she was running to, all she knew is that she needed to get as far away as possible, her cloth dolly frantically bouncing in her tight grip. Having almost gotten run over by a cart, the owner screaming after her to 'watch out', she finally ducked into a narrow alley. However it was a dead end, the alley ending with a high wall that she had no chance of climbing. Looking around frantically as if wargs were chasing her, she noticed a large barrel and quickly ducked behind it. There she crouched, trembling, crying and trying to regain her breath.


The wet fabric of her skirt had grown cold and began itching her backside and the back of her legs. Still drawing in ragged sobbed breaths, she pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them tight, her cloth dolly squeezed in between, her face buried in against it for comfort. She had quickly realised that when she closed her eyes she could clearly see her father and the pure terror of reliving that image with each blink was more than enough without her then closing her eyes and seeing it for longer.

Staring at the wet cobblestones with wide terrified eyes her breathing slowly calmed, though the tears continued to stream down her grimy face. 'Had that really been Papa?' she kept thinking to herself, though the constant reminder of what she had seen relentlessly flashed before her vision. Though she had only sat there minutes, it felt like hours, the incessant hunger twisting her stomach into a knot and making her cry even more. 'How was she going to get food now? Would the neighbour still feed her? Where would she sleep?' She shivered uncontrollably at the thought of going back to their room in the basement, knowing there was no way she could go past where her father was.

Wiping her runny nose on the back of her hand and sleeve, she shifted a little, peering out from behind the barrel as her stomach growled painfully again. 'Maybe she could ask someone for a roll, or an apple?' She had never tried before as Papa had always told her not to take anything from strangers, 'but how else would she get any food? Surely she no one would give her a job. Though she would work hard if they did! She could sweep, almost, if the broom wasn't too big. She could straighten sheets on a bed! She had done that before. Could one get paid to do that?'

As the tears subsided with the myriad of thoughts on how to get food, she absentmindedly scratched her cold, wet and itchy legs once more shifting about behind the barrel. She was thirsty too. Wiping her nose again with the back of her hand she moved from her crouched position and leaned out to look a bit further out from behind the barrel to see if anyone had followed. Not seeing the man or woman that had been there when she found her father, the small girl slowly began to crawl out from her hiding place.

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Born Under a Bad Sign
Clothes Minded Individuals

There was so much commotion today. Foot traffic to her purposefully out of the way store had increased dramatically. Well, that might have been putting the cart before the horse. On a normal day, the Shopkeeper would see one customer, maybe two around lunch. Dawn had barely broken an hour ago and she’d already had three customers come in. It was highly unusual and, if certain events had not taken place two which she was paying attention, highly annoying. Perhaps she was not the best shopkeeper, a woman that wanted to be left alone, but it was where she found herself and where she made herself thrive.

The last patron walked out of her store, a servant in tow overbundled with dozens of different colors and dozens of different fabrics. They couldn’t decide what it was they wanted for an upcoming gala, a suit or a dress. They couldn’t decide on a color either, nor a fabric, nor a specific cut. The Shopkeeper didn’t have time to capitulate and be bebothered by some minor noble’s wishy-washy indecision. She had… things to do. What those things were eluded her at the moment, but she was not about to spent half a dozen hours testing every single thing in her shop. The commission would be impressive, but she would have to work for it. The poor servant shot her a glance, a pleading, puppy-eyed look that would have melted the coldest hearts. But the Shopkeeper was already busy.

She went about busying herself with adjusting and readjusting swatches and bolts of cloth, arranging then de-arranging them once, then twice. Something itched at the back the Shopkeeper’s mind. If things were on schedule, then she would be receiving a visit a young but handsome guard as confused about what was happening as the day was long. Her fingers danced in anticipation and made more than a few mistakes. Excitement coupled with boredom was a dangerous cocktail. She took a sip of tea, letting the still fiery hot tea sooth her agitated nerves. Where was he? How long did it take to examine the monstrosity and start asking questions? If he did not show up soon, she would have to lower herself to be one of those horrid gawkers who gossiped about grotesqueries and how crime was making the city unlivable and she hated mingling with those kinds of people. She was going to…

What was that? It was not a sound she expected. Was that crying? It sounded the tiny mewlings of a lost kitten. She set the tea down cautiously and listening carefully, straining her ears to hear whatever it was over the low din of the Marketplace. Yes, it was something alright. She grumbled under her breath, where was that Tower Guard? Anything out of the ordinary could wreck what she had planned. She went outside, standing within the shadow of her doorway. There was no one there, no sign of people. Yet the sound persisted. She furrowed her brows. Peering around the corner she caught a glimpse of what looked like a child. What in Zigûr’s eyes was a child doing here? She narrowed her deep ocean blue eyes. Did she recognize the child? No, no, she’d seen a hundred children pass this way and that on the street, but this little dirty urchin was not one of them. A wrench had been thrown into her day in the form of a homeless waif.

“Sod it all,” she muttered under her breath. She quickly closed the gap between herself and girl and stood over her, a lean arm resting on the barrel she’d been hiding behind. “Well my darling mîth, what might you be doing here?”


GM Prompt:
Windy: What does Dina do when confronted by the Shopkeeper? Does she recognize the woman? Is she safe here?
Rill: When Aderic arrives on scene, what does he do? Does he recognize the Shopkeeper? Does he decide to question her or try and get the child back?
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Aderic Androllius, Lieutenant of the Tower Watch
Searching for a small child

The brightly colored clothes fluttered in the breeze, and Ric could only hope that it had caught the child's attention and that she might have been drawn there. Pausing to let some citizens pass by on their business, Ric then crossed the street, glancing around as he did. It was possible the girl was hiding anywhere; and stack of crates or barrels would serve as a suitable hiding place for a child that small, and he tried to imagine where a scared little girl might go. Perhaps there were people she knew, perhaps she had someplace in particular where she was heading. Home, perhaps, or to someone comforting. If he knew anything about her, that would have given him some insight to where the girl might be heading, but for now his only real 'lead' was the hope that the kid would be attracted by the bright colors.

The streets were growing busier as the day continued to dawn, as if the grotesque horror had not happened right there on the street, as if the guards had nothing to try and conceal before the citizens emerged from their safe homes. The day didn't care, and that just meant that members of the Watch would have to work quickly before too many others witnessed the horror that had been left by..whomever had done this thing. Ric, for his part, had passed the torch of that burden on to Bram, and focused now on his own task; locating the child before she came to any harm.

Approaching the stall with all the bright clothing, he glanced around, at first not seeing anyone running the place. He took a quick peek under a few racks of clothes, halfway wondering why he'd never bothered to check this stall out before. It seemed there was a wide variety of clothing for sale... perhaps sometime when he was off duty he might see if there was anything suitable for gifts.. coming around a rack of gowns, he paused as he saw a woman, her back to him, looking down at something. He leaned to one side, trying to see, and caught his breath when he saw the little face that had peeked out from behind the barrel. He was both relieved to have found the little girl, but also a bit nervous, worried she might run away again at the sight of him. "Hello?" He called softly, simply to let his presence be known. Still, he didn't want to frighten away the child, and also didn't want to startle the lady. In an effort not to further frighten the girl, he stayed well back, hoping perhaps the woman might have better luck at calming the child.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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The alleyway looked clear and she managed another inch forward on knees and one hand, the other clutching the dolly tightly to her. That the cobblestones were wet and slick with muck did not even garner a second thought as she crept another inch forward, breath held cautiously as wet worried eyes flicked back and forth looking for any signs of having been followed. As to who could be following her, she did not know. Maybe the man dressed in black! The thoought coincided with the woman stepping out from behind the barrels as if coming out of nowhere, the small girl yelping in fright as she backed up onto her bottom and squished the dolly protectively to her chest.

Had it not been for the guard showing up behind the woman, she might not have reacted as she did, but given the circumstances and feeling as if both the man and the woman had cornered her, barring any means of escape, she backed away from them as far as she could and screamed. Shrill and earpiercing as only a young child can produce, she screamed her heart out, the terror from this mornings finding evident in her wide eyes.

But a small child can only hold so much breath and it soon ran out, the last remnants shuddering out of her as she began to sob inconsolably, leaning away from them both as if those few inches could save her from them. Leaning in against the rough wall, she shoved her face into her dolly, willing it to protect her, to take her away from there to somewhere safe and crying all the harder when it failed to accommodate her wishes.

"Papa.." she whispered out hoarsely between more sobs, the final word she would willingly say for months.

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Born Under a Bad Sign
Clothes Minded Individuals

Children were so… childish. The Shopkeeper was just turning to see the young guard (dressed like that what else could he be?) when the child let loose with the shrillest banshee scream she’d ever heard. She winced and automatically stood up to cover her ears. The child had a healthy set of lungs on her, whoever she was. When she’d finished and collapsed in on herself, the Shopkeeper thought she heard something. Papa? She lowered her hands from her ears and looked at the child. Papa? She squinted and examined the child closer, or as closely as she could since the little mouse had scurried further from her and had balled up. Did she recognize her? There was something vaguely familiar, but the child looked so plain and unremarkable it was impossible to tell. She frowned and turned to the guard.

“You tower guard are getting shorter and shorter; I swear they’ll be hiring dwarves before I’m old.” She smirked, looked the young man over. He was at least half a foot shorter than her; it was lucky for him she had chosen to forego wearing heels today. He was good looking enough, not the weaselly type that made her feel like she was covered in a sheen of oil when they were near. Her cousin might find him more interesting than her though, he looked young enough to be her son. Black stars, they were training the officers young these days. Was there really that desperate a need for them? She filed that question away for another time. “I assume you’re here for her?” she asked, finally addressing him directly.

She didn’t wait for an answer, however. As soon as she asked her question, she returned her attention to the little girl. It was a girl, covered in enough grime to make her more of a gremlin than a girl. She looked fragile enough that if she pulled at her she might shatter or melt. The Shopkeeper wasn’t very good with children. She preferred to interact with them when they learned how to tie the shoes. “Come one little one. I’m not going to hurt you. Neither will he,” she nodded in the man’s direction. “If he does I’ll pop him one. Come now, sitting in an alley won’t do you any good. You must be hungry, yes? I’ve got tea and biscuits in the shop. You can have your fill. But if you bloody scream like that again by Zigûr, I might pop you one. What do you say? Tea and biscuits and a blanket or the cold alleyway covered in piss and vomit?” she extended a hand to the little girl.

“Oh!” she turned back and looked at the man again, the girl’s presence having thrown her somewhat. “Guard, ahh, whatever your name is. I don’t think I caught it. I think I might have something you need.”

She remembered the scroll that had been nailed to her door when she arrived that morning. It wasn’t a rat at least, but the message, once she’d unrolled it, was clearly not meant for her. It wasn’t until he arrived that it dawned on her that message, such as it was, was meant for this one. She couldn’t quite say why or how she knew the message was for him, a sort of sixth sense. She looked him over again, appraising him in a less predatory fashion this time. Would he be able to handle what was about to crash into him? She smiled for a heartbeat before smoothing the sides of her face and hiding it. It was going to be exciting at least. The games of the Violinist were about take a turn.
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Aderic Androllius, Lieutenant of the Tower Watch

No sooner had Ric spoken his cautious 'hello' than the poor little girl let out the most ear-splitting scream, followed by the most gut-wrenching little whimper of 'papa.' Wincing from more than just the pain in his ears, Ric wished he knew more about what do to with children, and how to help this one. He had no idea what might calm her, make her feel more at ease. Perhaps, in addition to being terrified, she was also hungry.

A brief nod was all he managed in reply to the shopkeeper's assumption that he was here for the child, before she had turned her attention back to the girl. The woman's offer of treats would hopefully do the trick and get the poor child to stop fleeing, at least. He assumed she was joking about him being 'short', but didn't really know what he might reply to that. He knew his height was about six feet tall, and this didn't really seem to him like a good time for joking around.. and furthermore, his best friend, who had been MIA for a long time now, had been quite a bit shorter than him. Reilly never did find height jokes amusing, Ric thought with a vague smile at the memory of the friends' time in training together. He shook his head slightly, forbidding even the faintest ghost of a smile to pass across his face at a time like this.

"The girl..uh, witnessed a terrible sight," He explained softly. "I feared that some harm may come to her if she were not found quickly.. it's a relief that I found her so soon." He explained, speaking softly so not to further alarm the little girl. Aside from when he was a child, and was around other children in school, Ric couldn't think of a time he had ever actually had any interaction with any children. None of them had ever liked him, then. Alyssa would have known what to do to comfort the girl, he was sure of that, but sadly, she was not here, nor was she likely to ever be here, much to his sorrow. Not that Ric would want her to be in any way involved in this nightmare, of course, but if there was anyone in the world that he knew of who could care for a small child, it was Alyssa.

He was brought out of those thoughts as he heard the woman suddenly mention that she had something for him. For him? He tilted his head in bafflement about that. "My apologies, I failed to introduce myself, ma'am. I am Lieutenant Androllius. What do you mean, something I need?" He inquired softly, trying to imagine what this woman could possibly have that he might need. "What is it?" He kept an eye on the little girl, in case she bolted again and made him chase after her again, but the other half of his attention had moved to the woman now, and he waited with curiosity to see what it was that she had that he 'needed'.
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Feb 19, 2022 3:29 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Biscuits? Half a sniffled sob caught in her throat and made her pause for just a second. She had never had a biscuit before, at least she didn't think so. Was it bread? Or a cake? She had had a small cake before, Papa said it had been for birthday. It had been a very dry slice of pound cake, but she could still recall the taste, it had been the best thing she had ever eaten.

She had not paid much attention to what the grown-ups were talking about, not understanding why they were talking about the guards height. Grown-ups were weird. The woman popping her one definitely got her attention and she withdrew as if she had already been smacked, wet eyes wide with worry that the woman would pop her one. Pushing the doll in against her mouth in case she made a sound, she looked around fearfully as if looking for a way to bolt around them both.

That was until the mention of said biscuits. Her stomach chose to growl angrily, the pangs bordering on painful now. She was used to that though, Papa didn't always manage to bring something home for her and if the neighbour wasn't aware, then she would often go to bed alone and without having eaten. Last night had been one of those nights.

Tea, biscuits and a blanket did sound good though. She was getting cold sitting here on the wet cobblestones, her skirt soaked through as it was. Eyeing the woman's outstretched hand dubiously, she was a fraction of a second away from taking it when the woman exclaimed and startled her. She burst into tears again, though this time she kept her mouth and nose pushed into the doll afraid to make a sound.

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Born Under a Bad Sign
Clothes Minded Individuals

“It’s good to meet you, Lieutenant Androllius,” the Shopkeeper said, keeping back an unnecessarily biting comment about his youth and his rank. The Tower Guard were, well, a mystery she had yet to crack. Everything in the world worked by way of patterns and routines. It was only a matter of time before she understood the Tower Guard. This young man could very well be the flame in the darkness. In the back of her mind, a spider spun a silky web. “I’m sorry we had to meet under such arduous circumstances though.” She squinted and tilted her head slightly. He looked familiar, some phantasmagoric resemblance to… She pursed her lips. The image was just on the edge of her recollection, a nail’s breadth from understanding. Perhaps she’d sketch him later and whatever it was about would come to her. Though she had enough work ahead of her that sketching might have to wait a day or two. Pity.

She frowned though, looking at the man’s utterly dour expression. Some crime had been committed, that was certain, and it was quite a serious matter, but the gave manner this young man was going about it was all wrong. It was like watching someone try to leash a cat and take it for a walk. It was possible, but the results were often stranger and more troublesome than they were worth. She opened her mouth, about to impart what she believed would be a life lesson, then stopped. How many times in her many decades had older men and women offer her unsolicited advice that turned out to be as rubbish as the people giving that advice? He would learn. He was young. Even the horrible parts of existence shouldn’t get in the way of feeling a moment of relief and happiness. She licked her lips. Yes, he would learn.

However, even though she needed to give him the note, he was not the prime concern for the moment. The Shopkeeper was terrible with children, but that had never stopped her from trying to interact with them. She could almost see the tiny child opening up to her before closing down and turtling into a ball of tears. She remembered that age. She remembered the raging rants her father went on about how life was unfair and that he wished he’d been given a better lot, a better wife, and a better child. Where was this child’s parents? She took note of the girl’s dirty, threadbare clothing. Assumptions filled her mind, likely unfair assumptions, but with nothing to dispel them, they took root. She already didn’t like whoever they were.

The Shopkeeper looked between the girl and the lieutenant. She was more than a witness, this tiny ball of fright. “Alright little one, you can stay here for now. If you feel safe here, it’s okay. I won’t let anyone come into the alleyway. When you and your little dolly are hungry, come inside and I can make you something. Perhaps we can find a street vender and get us some chips to share. Do you like chips? I love them, especially with horseradish sauce. Then we can come back here and see about getting you and your dolly some warmer clothes. The days are getting too short for you to be running ‘round the streets like that. I’ve known far too many girls and boys like you that did not do well in winter. When you’re ready, mîth. Only once you’re ready.” She touched the little girl’s shoulder in an as unintimidating manner as possible.

Standing back up an facing the guard she nodded, the gentleness in her voice slipping away as the thick, sultry southern accent reasserted herself. She nodded to him then tilted her head back to the street and her front door. She slipped passed him, moving just close enough to lightly brush against him before re-entering her shop. She stood in the front door and looked at the layout. For whatever reason the whole place felt a bit stranger and more alien to her. She watched a spider crawl across the floor. She frowned and shooed it away with a gentle kick. “Now is not the time for you to be running about, not when we have guests that aren’t fond of eight-legged companions.”

She sighed, blinking her eyes several times before her shop felt normal again. Where was that note? She’d set it aside as soon as she’d come in that morning and tried to forget it. She didn’t like taking an active role in the misadventures of the White City, but it seemed she was going to have a part to play after all. At least the day would not be without a brush of excitement. She went behind the counter and touched the piece of parchment with a nail hole in the top center. She read it for the umpteenth time this morning. Puzzling out what exactly the person behind it was trying to say.


I bid thee a good morning, noble sir,
And hope you are admiring the gift
Of gardening that’s sure to cause a stir
Amid the city. Prithee, tell me swift
If you enjoyed it? This was no mean feat,
With few who truly understand my art
As all the pseudo-critics whom I meet
I’m often forced to skewer through the heart.
But if you’d care my craftwork to discuss
Perhaps over my second passion, tea,
A shop in Fourth Circle’s the place for us
(There’s but one place that serves it correctly.)
The Fountain Verdigris at sunset’s best.
I hope you’ll join me, if you pass my test.

The Violinist had a flare for the dramatic, she could at least give him that. No one wrote sonnets anymore. Not good ones. Surely he couldn’t take credit for this one. It was better than anything she’d seen him write in the past. She smirked. Outsourcing murder sonnets now? At least he knew talent when he saw it. One of his singular saving graces.

“Tell me, Lieutenant Androllius,” she said without looking up or hearing him enter. “What would you make of this?”

OOC: ((As noted by the narrator, this magnificent murder sonnet was not written by yours truly, but by the masterfully word playing @tinSil. Praise her with great praise and hail her work as godly and sublime.))
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Nells Breads and Pastries
Nell greeting Pele
@Pele Alarion

It had been a day as usual for Nell. Make the bread, bake the bread..Yada,yada. She was just arraigning some freshly baked danishes when she was pleased to hear a very familiar and welcomed voice…Pele.

“I’m here!” She answered from the back of the bakery. She smiled to herself and hearing of the inspection she chuckled and grinned. Pele was always finding ways to amuse her. She took up the danishes in a basket and quickly made her way to the front of the store.

Coming past the curtain that separated the two spaces she was doing her best to present a serious face but with the upturned corners of her lips she was sure she was losing the battle. “Uh-hm…presenting the wares!” She tried to keep a straight face while coming to stand before her with the basket presented front and center. “Danishes, fresh and ready for inspection, Ma’am.” She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. “Don’t burn your lip on the preserves..they’re hot.” She added in a whisper before coming to stand at attention, once more trying to be serious.
Isolde Alarion/Rohan~Nelladel Alarion/Gondor~Mourgan Alarion/Gondor ~ Dahak/ Umbar ~ Relic RIP

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Pele, waiting for Duinion (to go on Ranger duties) @Rillewen
Streets of Marketplace (a different time than the event in the above post)

She had prepared her kit, and her horse Temper, and had left them all with the guards at the Great Gate, as she figured those would only draw undue attention when venturing into the marketplace. She was dressed in simple greys and greens, not even an insignia to give away who she was, making it pretty easy to mingle with the crowds of traders, customers and all other sorts of citizens.

She stopped to buy a couple of apples, and then walked on to stand near a closed stall of some sorts, as she munched on one of the fruits she had acquired. Meanwhile she looked both for Duinion and the merchant who had been so eager to demand Rangers to accompany him. After a few moments Pele wondered whether she should stand in some more visible place, but then again... she was sure that Duinion would spot her with practiced ease, and it would not be difficult to spot the merchant.

Leaning against the wall of the uninhabited stall, Pele looked out at the constant movement on the streets, and listened in to a nearby haggling over some goods; seemingly expensive spices from afar.
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Berrik and "Dina"
At least 6 months since the "incident".


"I got the job!!"

Berrik had burst through the door and run down the stairs to where Dina was sat, like a bat out of hell. "Woohoo!" Forgetting that Dina did not like to be touched, forgetting how timid she was, even with him at times, he scooped her into his arms and span her around and around.

At first there was surprise as he had burst out of there like he had robbed the place, then happiness that he had gotten the job. But when he advanced on her like a hound on a bone, terror filled her young eyes. Just before he picked her up, she flinched away in fright, the dolly clutched so tightly to her it almost broke in half. However on the second spin the tickles in her tummy drowned out the fear, feeling the wind tug at her hair and her feet soaring through the air. It was like flying. A small timid laugh bubbled free, going unnoticed by Berrik as he set her down to dance around the square, grabbing this person and that and made them swing around, ignoring the swats or yells he garnered.

Dizzy and elated, Dina stood on unsteady feet and watched as Berrik swung a woman around and made her chuckle before darting off to do a cartwheel. For the first time since Dina had found her companion, she smiled and Berrik did not even see it as he bounced around the marketplace like a lunatic.

There was just the remnant of the smile left in her eyes when he finally returned to Dina, plopping down on the stair next to him as he tried to catch his breath.

"Thank the Valar for twins!" he said breathlessly as he clapped his hands together. "Mrs Liriel said I came just at the right time, that with her two new babes she had no free hands to tend the store. So me and her eldest, Gulliver, Gamon, somethingorother will do the monies and I will get to set up the shop and put things in crates and move stuff around and sweep and all that kind of stuff!"

Dina slowly sat down next to him as he spoke a million miles an hour, her face suddenly growing sad. How could she stay with him if he was working, surely she would not be allowed to stay near him?

This time Berrik saw and with his enthusiam still running rampent, he grabbed her arms, not hearing her terrified squeak from being grabbed. "You got a job too!" As if suddenly realising what he had done, he let her go as if burned, looking apologetic for a moment before the joy returned in full force. "Mrs Liriel says you can help look after the lil un's!"

Tears formed in the little girls eyes, but for the first time in a very long time, they were tears of joy.

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Aderic Androllius, Lieutenant of the Tower Watch

Ric offered a polite smile to the woman upon her statement that it was nice to meet him. "A pleasure to meet you as well, ma'am, I'm sure. However, you have yet to give your name." He pointed out meekly as he watched her turn to speak again to the frightened child. Ric stayed back, fearing that his presence was frightening her further, and wished he knew what to say to the child. The woman seemed to have no trouble knowing how to deal with children, he was glad to see. He tried to pay attention to the sort of things she said, how the girl reacted, and whether she was successful in what she said. At the same time, there was something nagging at the back of his mind, a word or something that seemed out of place, something that maybe was only half-heard. Perhaps the child's screaming had drowned it out, but it was there in his subconscious, trying to get his attention. Was it important?

Then the shopkeeper was turning back to him, brushing past him, and heading inside the shop. He followed a few paces behind, hoping the girl would stay there, or else come inside. "You've.. had far better success in calming the girl than anyone else has, thus far." He commented as he waited for her to find whatever it was she had for him. "Uh, would it be alright for her to stay here, for a while? I fear that if I try to bring her back with me, she will become frightened again." He explained, thinking more of the little girl's state of mind than anything. If the woman was alright with her staying here for a while, then that might be best, though he supposed she was owed some explanation for why he would ask. Glancing toward the door, checking whether the girl was still out there, he added softly, "You see, a man was..murdered, this morning.. we believe it was her father, because she kept crying 'Papa'. The poor child happened to see the body.. uh, it was...not a pleasant sight, even for an adult. We aren't sure whether she has a mother still. Perhaps she could tell us where her mother is..." The last part was more to himself, thoughtful, followed by a soft sigh.

His thoughts were broken as the woman handed him a note, asking what he made of it. Of all the things he had expected to receive from the shopkeeper, a note was perhaps one of the last that he would have expected. His curiosity aroused, he took the note and read swiftly. Then read it again, frowning. "Where did you get this?" He glanced up at her, baffled, as well as concerned for her, for it seemed as if the killer must have surely left this, as if he wanted to flaunt it. "This seems to have been left by the very same one who killed that child's father," He studied the note again, thinking carefully over each clue... it seemed that the killer was inviting the guards to come meet with him.. but was he really? There was that nagging feeling again, but it was something else this time. If only he could put his finger on it...
Last edited by Rillewen on Thu Jan 13, 2022 1:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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@Pele Alarion
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Ranger Duinion
Meeting Pele


The streets were crowded, of course. Duinion took a moment once he had gotten past the gate, and surveyed the marketplace. His daughter had begged to come along on this mission but he said no. Just because it sounded like a simple, easy, safe-ish mission didn't mean it couldn't become dangerous, and she was (as far as he was concerned) too young for that sort of thing. He knew he couldn't protect the girl forever, of course, but so long as he could, he would do his very best. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to return home and spend another week with her, but he had eagerly volunteered for this job. He just hadn't expected to have to meet in the busiest place in the entire city.

Too many people crowded the streets, and he felt very ill-at-ease as he nudged his way through the crowds. His height allowed him to see over a lot of the people, but there were still plenty of men taller than he, and the ranger wished he were out in the woods, among the trees. At last, his trained eye spotted Pele and he made his way toward her, hoping the merchant was there and ready to go. He didn't mind it if they were all waiting on him. Unfortunately, though, he saw no sign of the merchant, and held back a sigh. That meant he'd have to stand around waiting, with people jostling around and rushing past.

"Morning," He greeted his superior as he joined her near a closed stall. At least there were somewhat fewer people in this immediate area, due to this place being closed. "Where is our merchant?" He glanced around, hoping perhaps the man was actually nearby, and perhaps he had simply not seen him. "Don't tell me he's late, when he's the one demanding our protection?" He half-teased.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Though the tears had stopped, she still breathed with hiccupped sniffles, the doll firmly pressed against her mouth. With fearfilled eyes she watched the two adults with suspicion, cringing away from the woman's touch even though the words had been sweet. But what she did not anticipate, was for both of them to leave. At first she stayed where she was, sure that they were trying to trick her, but then she heard their soft voices as they spoke to each other.

Eyeing the alley she saw her chance to escape. With the guard inside she could easily run past and go find a different hiding spot. Slowly she got to her feet only barely registering the cold, numb as they were. Dolly pressed against her throat, she peered around the huge barrel, still expecting them to jump out and grab her. However there were no sounds of movement, their voices still coming from inside.

Wiping her runny nose with the back of her hand, she sniffled in a ragged breath as she took a step, then another. As quietly as she could, she took another step, peering with scared eyes around the door frame to see if they were stood there ready to pounce. But no, they were both looking at a scroll which the guard was holding. They really were going to let her go if she wanted!

Eyes dashed to the end of the alley, seeing several people milling about and going on about their business. She could easily disappear in the mass and find another alleyway where she could hide. And be cold. And hungry. She flinched as her stomach decided to growl loudly, her eyes darting back to the two adults, worried they would have heard. But they were still focused on the scroll, seemingly having forgotten all about her.

Biting on her lower lip, she was about to dart off when her stomach growled again, this time more insistently. It hurt. Usually when it hurt this bad she would go next door and the nice neighbour would give her a slice of bread and sometimes even a hot bowl of stew. Another bout of ragged breaths shook her tiny frame as she stood trying to decide what she was going to do. Maybe she could let the lady give her the food and blanket she had promised and then run away? But what if they locked her up? Would they lock her up now that Papa was gone?

The thought of her father immediately brought tears to her eyes, eyes darting between the adults and "freedom" at the mouth of the alleyway. Her stomach made the decision for her, the hunger so painful that alone brought more tears to her eyes. With a timid sniffle, she took a few steps towards the door, body trembling with both fear and cold, as she stepped just inside and waited quietly.

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Pele, meeting Duinion for Ranger business (@Rillewen )

Pele found that she rather liked standing on the sidelines and watching the life pulse around her; while she greatly enjoyed outdoors, she was content to be among people too, though she mostly avoided being the centre of all the action and attention. And so it happened that she was much more at ease, standing there, than Duinion, when he found her.

"Well, he should have been here quite a while ago, in fact," she returned what must have passed for a business-like greeting. "I've been looking for him, but no sight of him whatsoever." Apart from the lack of their 'target', things seemed to be rather usual in the marketplace: people going about their everyday lives, trading, selling, buying, or just taking a walk (as strange as it may seem).

"Care for an apple, Duinion?" she offered one of the delicious fruit she still had not managed to eat while waiting around. "Horse and equipment ready, I assume?"

~~~~~
Pele with Nell @Isolde Alarion
Nell's Breads and Pastries


Pele did not have to wait long for Nell to respond, so she just stood in the middle of the room, waiting and trying to replace the smile with something of a stern frown.

As soon as the basket of goodies was presented to her, she took it and breathed in the scent contentedly, while attempting to present a professional front. Carefully she picked one of the danishes and blew on it to cool it off a bit before biting a small morsel off of it. "Aaaah," Pele managed with her mouth full, as the said morsel still ended up a bit too hot to eat right away. Eventually she swallowed it and stated: "Wares of acceptable.... nay, good, quality."

Handing the basket back to Nell, she finally let loose a hearty laugh. "Definitely tasty, though would expect nothing less from you, Nell. Though perhaps I should not try to devour anything right out of the oven... But how are things otherwise?"

While waiting for Nell to respond, she popped the remaining danish in her mouth and munched on it happily.
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@Pele Alarion
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Ranger Duinion
Waiting for the merchant


Glancing around the sea of people, Duinion tried to use his height to his advantage, hoping to spot the merchant and perhaps wave him over. Perhaps the guy was still searching for the rangers who were to be his escort. How much longer must they wait, if the merchant didn't show up? He edged back from a small group that nearly bumped him on their way toward the next-door shop, and glanced after them. Did they really not see him there? Or did they not care? People seemed to be swarming the market today, and with all the bustle of the crowd, and the vendors calling out trying to attract customers, it was rather noisy as well. He was reminded of when he used to run errands for the orphanage matron, and frequently had to come here for this or that thing. He'd been uncomfortable here then, too, but it was an excuse to get out of the place for a little while.

Glancing at Pele, Duinion couldn't help feeling slightly jealous of how at-ease she seemed here. Her offer of an apple brought a small smile, but he shook his head. He felt a bit too nervous for eating, right now. Even if he had been hungry. "No, I already ate." He assured her. "Thank you, though." He held back a sigh, rocking lightly on his heels. The merchant needed to get here soon, he mentally complained. "If he.." Duinion stopped, unable to hear himself talk as some vendor began yelling nearby, announcing his wares. The ranger waited until the man had finished, and tried again. "If he doesn't come soon, what do we do?" He asked Pele, debating about whether to offer to wait out by the gates, with the horses.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Pele, with Duinion
Waiting around for the merchant

@Rillewen

Pele was a patient woman, quite patient, but even her patience was not immeasurable, and when Duinion inquired what they would do if the merchant didn't show up soon, she frowned.

"Well, he should have been here quite a while ago because I asked you to come a bit later than the set time," she said, as she finished the apple and straightened up to look at the crowd of people. "I figure we could go and see what's up with him, I think I know where his shop is."

Then she glanced sideways at Duinion with a small grin, noting how uncomfortable he looked in this busy place. "Or, I could check on him," she offered, knowing his disposition quite well and seeing no need to torment the man more than was absolutely necessary. "And you could wait for me outside the Great Gate; I've left Temper, my horse, and equipment with the guards there, so perhaps you could collect them for me? I don't see any use for us to stand around here all day and just wait. What do you say?"
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Amlaith’s Clay Pipes

She didn’t often make it down the Marketplace, owing to the fact that one of a dozen street urchins she employed could go in her stead. Today, though, was going to be different. She wanted to get out of her house on the fifth circle. She hadn’t been out in almost two weeks, and she was beginning to climb the walls out of boredom (only once was that actually literal). She forewent her vanguard of children today in favor of something more subtle and inconspicuous. How long had it been since she’d walked among the riffraff people of Minas Tirith? Certainly, her mother had forbidden it, telling her over and over that the people here were not to be trusted, that gangs of thugs and assassins roamed the streets of the lower circles. Naturally, her mother never left the Honeycombe on the fifth circle so what would she actually know? She decided to garb herself in a white dress with a thick grey cloak over she shoulders. It was starting to get chilly and the clouds overhead looked as if they might burst and drown the whole city in snow.

All around her children played in the street, dashing through puddles, seeing which one of them could make the biggest splash. The winner appeared to be a rotund boy with rosy freckled cheeks and red hair, he jumped down so hard the puddle itself disappeared. The other children were quite disappointed, but he looked smug. Lômibêth made a mental note to find him later. His clothes weren’t rotting and falling off him, but they were definitely old and despite his fat cheeks and belly, he looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept well in some time. He was a perfect candidate to join her little menagerie. A few other children were playing with a ball, throwing it back and forth to each other. She couldn’t figure out the rules but each time someone dropped the ball they were immediately set upon and dogpiled. A few of the larger boys threw the ball at smaller ones for that expressed purpose it looked like. She smiled and began to whistle as she moved through the street.

She had no particular place in mind as she wandered. She was going to stay away from clothing stores, but that was all the planning she’d done. Clothing stores were stuffy and full of people she didn’t particularly want to talk to today. She passed by bakeries and bookstores, woodshops and glassblowers. None of them pulled on her and begged her to come inside. A few men at a cart called to her and begged her to try their meat on a stick though. She obliged and found the spicy meat to her liking. She paid them an extra coin and made another mental note to check on them later. She wasn’t busy now, but at the same time she was. She had time to slowly peruse shops, but conversations simply took too long, unless she was haggling for a price or extracting information. They would still be there later, she surmised. Their cart was large and held a fair amount of meat. She liked men like that.

Finally, a place did call out to her. It was on a somewhat deserted stretch of street and the place looked as if it had seen better days. In short, it was perfect. Lômibêth grinned and darted inside. “Hello? Is anyone about? I’d like to look at your collection of…” she looked at the wares and raised a quizzical eyebrow, “pipes…”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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@Pele Alarion
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Ranger Duinion
Waiting for the merchant


His frown increased upon hearing that the man was supposed to have been there before himself. And yet he was not there. Surely, he had not forgotten. He was the one to request this ranger escort to begin with! Taking slow, deep breaths, he reminded himself that it shouldn't be too long before they left the city. He could endure a little discomfort for a while, so long as it didn't get any more crowded, but it certainly wasn't the best way to spend his morning.

Pele's suggestion was welcome, and he gave a faint smile, nodding. "That sounds like an excellent plan." Duinion had left a horse in the keeping of the gate guards as well, along with his supplies. It would only take a moment to get the horses, but it wouldn't hurt for him to be there waiting with them. Then, if she did find the merchant, they could get going all the sooner. "Temper," He repeated, trying to make sure he remembered. "I'll see you at the gate then." With a quick salute in parting, he set off at a semi-brisk pace, dodging and weaving through the milling crowd, trying to avoid getting stuck in the midst of any groups. The further he got from the crowded marketplace, the better.

Finally, Duinion passed through the massive gate and stopped to take a deep breath of the fresh, outdoor air that greeted him. It may have been his imagination, but the air always felt a little bit suffocating on the other side of the wall, not that he'd mention that to anyone else. Before long, he had both his and Pele's horses, and wandered a few yards from the gate, stroking the necks of both horses lightly as he waited. Hopefully Pele wouldn't be long, but he could wait far more easily here than in the market. "Shouldn't be long now," He murmured to the horses, imagining they seemed almost as eager to get going as he felt.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Amlaith's Clay Pipes

The paper shook like leaves in the wind in his trembling hands. A single tear dropped down onto the parchment and blurred a word, though Amlaith did not care. Drawing in a sobbed breath, he crumbled up the letter and threw it in the small fireplace, watching as the parchment caught fire and quickly destroyed the letter. Five!? He would never be able to afford five gold a month. He doubted that he owned anything that was worth that much. And if he was to sell the business he would likely not get more than two months worth for it once all the debts had been paid off.

A distant scream and a loud crash made him flinch, his shoulders drawing in as if to protect himself. What was he going to do? The healers at the House of Healing did not have the facilities to care for long term patients like his wife and the only other sanatorium that was affordable looked terrifying, a shiver racing up his back at the thought of the sinister place. But he could not keep his wife here much longer, she was getting more violent by the day and if it continued like it had been, he was sure that his wife would soon be seeking to hurt herself or maybe even him and their daughter. At the thought of their daughter being hurt his heart broke again, several tears rolling down his haggard face.

No.. he knew what he had to do. He was just finding it impossible to do it.

"Papa!?"

Amlaith quickly wiped the tears from his face as he heard Asta's call, giving a call back "In here!"

She rounded the corner soon after, his heart singing with joy as he looked at the most precious thing in his world, his beautiful daughter. She looked at him quizzically "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes.. please.. come sit." He motioned her over to the small sofa and sat down next to her, pulling out a letter he had received a few days earlier. For a long moment he just stared at her, finding it difficult to say the words that was going to change their worlds forever.


She looked at him quizzically, her heart aching to see how he was obviously fretting. Head lowered, shoulders slumped he wrung his hands over and over. She was about to ask him what was wrong, knowing in her gut there was something he was not keen on telling her. But before she could word her concern, he drew in a ragged breath and clenching his hands into fists he finally spoke.

"I have de-"

His words were cut short as the sound of the small bell above the shop door tinkled. Why now!? They had not had any customers in weeks! And right when he was about to tell Asta, then they arrive?

Though desperate to know what it was that her father was wanting to tell her, Asta smiled and squeezed his hand gently. "I will go see who it is and come right back.." She gave him a sweet smile that choked him up even more, merely nodding and unable to watch her walk off. He did not know how he was going to survive sending her off for good. At least survive long enough to do what was needed.

A customer? Or was someone lost? Either way Asta quickly made it back into the shop, her pale blue eyes searching the small store to see who it was. She was not surprised to see it was a woman, back in the day when they had actually had a decent amount of customers most were women that came to buy a present for their husbands or fathers.

"Hello there! I am Asta, how may I help you?" She stepped towards the woman, quickly glancing at the womans clothing and admiring the white dress that peeked from beneath the cloak. Such a delicate dress, especially for this time of year she thought, though admired the woman for still choosing to wear it.

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She sighed as she passed through the gate from the third to the second circle. Kaylin never had a want to come to the marketplace - but sometimes she had a need. Today was one of those rather unfortunate days. During their travels, some of her clothes had worn down beyond what was suitable for the city. What was worse, it had been time to say goodbye her favorite over-the-knee grey leather boots upon their return.

A mixture of disappointment at having to come to the shops and sadness for losing a trusted pair of boots, Kaylin walked by a couple of tailors before finally stopping in front of a window to a leatherworker's. She looked dubious as her blye-grey eyes appraised some of the goods on display. Some of the boots looked fine. But they could never replace her old pair...

Almost out of habit, she checked the streets around her in the reflection of the window. The Black Hand hadn't followed her on their travels, but that did not mean they had decided to scratch her name off their revenge list. Now she was back in the city, she might as well find out - rather sooner than later.
Thûllir would call her crazy, perhaps, but at least trying to figure out whether she was still a target brought a bit more... substance... to this forced shopping.
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Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength

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Erynneth

A pair of heavily worn boots dangled from one hand as Eryn strolled through the marketplace, a broken stool in the other, for her next stop. The boots were mud-stained, holes worn in the soles, and quite battered. Not to mention far too big to belong to a fifteen-year-old girl such as herself. A large man carrying some firewood bumped into her as he passed, and the girl stumbled to one side with a gasp as she caught herself against a window, the stool dropping to the ground. Spinning, she sent a glare after the oblivious man as he went on his way. "Hmph," She grumbled, a bit annoyed but it wasn't like she could do much about it. Eryn could sort of see why her father disliked it so in the busy marketplace, but she shrugged and tried to rub the smear off of the glass.

Eryn realized it was exactly the sort of merchandise she had come for, as well. "Oh! boots, good." Then, noticing that there was a woman nearby, looking at the stuff in the window, she felt a little silly for speaking to herself. "Hello." She smiled, picking up the milking stool. "Do you know if they have good prices?" She inquired of the woman, hoping she might be friendly. The reflection made it difficult to see if there were any price tags visible, so she figured she'd just have to go in and check.

(reason for edit: fixing some typos/spelling)
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Mar 16, 2024 10:11 am, edited 2 times in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

Éowyn
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Someone (Erynneth) stumbled against the window - or rather, got pushed against it - just two feet away from her. Kaylin saw it happening in the window's reflection, since she had already been using the glass to survey the street, rather than looking at the goods on display. Two options for a first reaction momentarily warred against each other in her head, mirroring the feelings in her chest. Dismay at the carelessness of the man mixed in with anger at his devil-may-care attitude, and helpfulness.

Since the girl was already picking up the little stool herself, it was decided for her.

"Hey!" Kaylin called after the large man responsible for the girl's plight. "You have eyes?!"
The man scowled and looked back at her over his shoulder, clearly ready to serve her with an answer that would be far from polite. When he saw her shock of red hair, however, he hesitated. Then he shook his head and continued on his way, instead of engaging.
Kaylin almost wanted to growl. Being this recognizable and rather known around the city (too many escapades to various pubs and inns when Thûllir was away) definitely had its drawbacks. At least, that is why she assumed the firewood-hauling bear had decided not to answer her.

She blinked when the girl addressed her. Oh, dang! Right! "Hello," she quickly replied, looking the girl over to see if there was any apparent damage. "I hope you didn't get hurt? The nerve of some people..."
At the girl's question, Kaylin smiled sheepishly. "Erm.. I'm not sure. I haven't bought anything here yet. I need a new pair of boots, though." Judging from the pair the girl was holding, so did she. Or, someone she knew. That size didn't nearly look right for her. "We could go in and find out, I suppose!"
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Erynneth

Watching in some surprise at the brief confrontation between the two strangers, Eryn really didn't know quite what to say, being rather unused to...well any sort of situation like this. Even though the man had kept going, it was the thought that counts. That the woman had the thought of calling the man's attention to what he'd done was nice, even if it didn't work. It made her happy to know there were people like that. "Oh, no I'm fine." she assured her. "Thank you, for that. He ought not carry more than what he can see over, really." Eryn shrugged and looked back at the window of merchandise. It wasn't as if she had been trampled, so she wasn't terribly overwrought about the ordeal.

"Oh. Go in, yes.. good idea. That might be easier than standing out here," Eryn grinned at that. "I'm getting boots too, for my father. I only hope I've got enough saved up. His birthday is coming up and I wanted to surprise him," She mentioned with a grin, switching the boots over to the other hand so she could get the door. "You first, you were here before me." Eryn waited until the other woman had gone in before her, not budging until she did, and then stepped into the store. The smell of leather greeted her, along with a bit calmer atmosphere. There were hardly any other people in here, as opposed to the street.

Eryn set her broken stool down near the door, out of the way, and looked around curiously, wondering what sort of things the place might have besides boots. "Wow, there's so many things here," The girl commented to no one in particular. Considering how infrequently she made a trip into the city, she was fairly sure she had never been in this shop before, and was surprised to see how many different things it contained. She even wondered if they might sell bracers or other leather armor, or a quiver, perhaps. She had one, but it might be nice to get another, nicer one.
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Mar 16, 2024 10:11 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Amlaith’s Clay Pipes

Lômibêth had never had a clay pipe. She’d never had a wooden one either, or whatever else a pipe can be made from. She wasn’t very well versed in the art of pipes and pipe smoking. On the face of it, she might have found the whole practice a bit reprehensible at worst or uninteresting at best. Even the hashish and opium dens of her old home held little interest for her personally. She enjoyed watching who was going in and out, but never felt the need to go in herself. Pipes and smoking just didn’t seem as interesting a past time as say reading salacious novels and drinking tea, or growing poison plants in a small garden, or collecting love letters from married men. However, now that she was here, she did admire the craftsman ship that went into them.

There were more than a few on display, likely the owner’s best examples of their work meant to draw in eager piper smokers or so-called artisans. They were all carved and shaped with delicate fingers and an eye for detail. There weren’t very many though, which puzzled her. Shouldn’t there be dozens or even a hundred on display? She furrowed her brow. And where was the proprietor? The bell had rung as she entered, had it not? An impression was being made it was not a very good one. She walked into the store and began to walk along the walls of the store, tracing the patterns in the wood. She heard voices from somewhere, but they were too muddled to make out. More than one person worked here? The voices sounded masculine and feminine. Letting her curiosity get the better of her, Lômibêth began creeping closer and closer to the back of the show room when a woman appeared, or maybe she was a girl, it was hard to tell. She looked somewhere in the middle. She was pretty, however old she was.

“Well, hello there!” she said with the hint of devious smile at the corners of her lip. A woman being in charge of the shop changed everything. All of the sudden, she was interested in more than the aesthetics and artistry of the pipes. A mental picture of herself with one of the large, billiard bowls in her mouth. Naturally, there would be no smoke coming out of it, she had not taken leave of her senses after all, smoking was still a dull habit for uninteresting men. She did cut quite a dashing figure, she had to admit. Her mother would be aghast, her cousin amused, and the ladies at the garden club would absolutely wet themselves in trepidation. Now, there was just the matter of picking out the right one to convey a deliberate message.

“I was walking through the marketplace, and I just so happened to come upon your shop and…” she spread her hands at the pipes on display, “I have to say I’m impressed by the quality. But, darling, what can you tell me about them? I’m afraid I’m not well versed in the world of pipes and smoking. If you were going to go down a pub and light up in one the dark corners, what kind of pipe would you be smoking out of?”
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Amlaith’s Clay Pipes

The deviousness of the smile was lost on Asta as she returned it in full. Though she was still thinking about her father at the back of her mind, the rest of her attention was fully on her new customer. It had been so long since they had had any new customers, the last one having been several months ago. Not that that stopped her father from creating even more elborate pipes.

What could she tell the woman about them? Everything, she grinned to herself as she had made almost all of them. While her father carved the design into wood to be used for the moulds, she was the one to actually press the clay into the moulds and create most of the the pipes they sold. The most expensive ones were the wooden ones, carved by hand by her father in rich dark red or dark brown woods and polished until they shone in the light. However she barely got to explaining any of that when the woman stumped her with a question.

"Uh.. well, I guess if I were to smoke I would likely choose something like this I guess.." With delicate fingers she picked up a simple and unadorned white clay pipe. The stem was long and thin, though far from the longest they created. Unobtrusive, yet likely as delicate as she, the pipe was often bought by the female smokers, not that there had been many. It seemed that the more ornate ones like the dragon's claw or ones shaped like heads, or animals adorning it were more to the liking of men and amongst those, men who liked to show off. Not that Asta would ever allude to that.

A few of the other delicate ones had things such as flowers and symbols pressed into the side of the bowls, though of course the simple unadorned ones sold the most as they were the cheapest by far and the ones she had made most of.

"Is that where you are planning to smoke it? In a pub?" She asked, trying to get a feel for what would suit the woman. She did not even think to ask if it was for someone else, given that the woman had asked what she would choose to use.

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Amlaith’s Clay Pipes

Unlike most times she would have come traipsing into a store and worked the owners into a tizzy of stumbling explanations and admonishments to “not touch that, it’s quite valuable” or “careful with that now, you could set it off” Lômibêth actually listened to the woman’s dissimulations. Pipes, were, believe it or not, more complex than she’d imagined. Before walking into this store, she’d assumed that that all pipes were essentially the same: a hollow stick with a bulb at the end. They were so much more than that. She wouldn’t go so far as to say she was in awe of the woman’s expertise and knowledge, but she was impressed.

She moved closer to the woman and looked at the pipe she held in her delicate hands. It was, indeed, exactly as she described it. The long stem flowed easily from mouthpiece to bowl in a single, fluid line. It was nice if a bit plain. Lômibêth hoped for something with a bit more grandeur and gravitas. Finding such things in a pipe might be too much to ask, she realized, but she was not one to let things like reality get in the way of her making the world into something she saw fit to exist in. She touched the plain white pipe with a long, manicured index finger. It had a smooth, comfortable feel to it.

“This one is quite lovely, I wonder though, what do you have in the way of flower motifs? I’m partial to nightshade myself.” She looked around at some of the pipes on display. She decided that she very much like the long stem. There were a few here that looked a bit too long for her tastes, some of them were the kind of pipe a scruffy man with something hides or something to enhance might use. She wasn’t interested, per se, in having the largest pipe in the room, but one that made men feel inadequate wasn’t something she could pass up.

A pub? Lômibêth had to stop and think before responding. Lômibêth wouldn’t be caught dead in what this city called a pub, but she didn’t want to be too disparaging of this woman’s city before she actually sold her a pipe. She recovered quickly enough though, her smile never breaking. “I think women like you and I are too good for ‘pubs’ if you don’t mind my saying so. A café or a bistro perhaps, that might suit us better. And as far as smoking goes, I think I'm more interested in the image of the pipe than it's functionality, if you understand what I mean.”

She looked at the woman’s garb. For a shop owner it was quite nice. It might not pass muster in some of the more exclusive places in the sixth circle, but Lômibêth wouldn’t let that stop her. What did stop her, momentarily at least, was the dawning realization that she was already planning on taking this woman out of her shop and back upcircle to some of her own favorite haunts. “Have you ever heard of the Honeycombe? Also, we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Lômibêth.”
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

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Leatherworker's

"He can carry all he wants, for all I care - but he can get some damn manners." Anyone could bump into someone by accident, but almost glaring at the victim, basically pretending it's their own fault. No, that was unacceptable. That's what she thought of the matter, anyway. The man was likely lucky the girl had drawn Kaylin's attention away from him.

But Kaylin's mood changed more easily than the weather could. She gave Erynneth a very genuine smile when the girl said it was a good idea to go in. She raised her hands a bit in amused surrender when the girl insisted she enter the shop first, and did as she was told (without huffing and puffing, no less - how uncharacteristic!).

"Hmm hmm," Kaylin agreed when the girl commented on how many wares the leatherworker had. She didn't quite remember whether she had been to this particular shop before. "Hello?" the Ranger called out in a loud, friendly voice. "Anyone back there?"

A man came out, wiping his hands on an apron that probably used to be white. "Yes, yes! Can I help you?" His eyes fell on both Erynneth and Kaylin. "Ladies?"

"I would let her go first, but I am sure she would insist otherwise," Kaylin said, shooting Erynneth a smile. "So I might as well. Do you have any knee-length boots in grey, supple leather? I wore out my old pair, and was rather attached... I used them mostly in my spare time, both around the city and on travels, so a good thick sole would be greatly appreciated. And perhaps some kind of lacing to keep them up?"

The leatherworker seemed to size Kaylin up, and without any further questions nodded. "One moment. I might have a few options in the back. And for you, lass?" His grey eyes fell on Erynneth.
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Erynneth
Leatherworker's shop

Eryn was perfectly content to wait until the other woman's business was concluded, but it seemed the store owner was willing and able to help them both at once. She smiled and held out the worn-out pair of boots. "I need some new boots in this size, please. Something good and durable. It's for my father," she explained. "He's a ranger, so he needs them to last a good, long time, and um, maybe if you have anything that's got hidden pockets or something, for knives, or something of that sort? If you do that would be wonderful." She had no idea what the shopkeeper might have. A moment later, she paused, realizing that she might have just requested something that was very pricey. "If.. none of that is overly expensive, that is."

As the shopkeeper nodded and set off into the back to see what he could find for them both, Eryn turned to smile at the other lady. "Do you travel a lot then? I've only ever been traveling one time. I went with my father and his friend to Rohan. It was very exciting, and I'd love to see other places too, someday." She grinned. "Oh! I'm Erynneth, by the way. What's your name?" She wondered. She might as well have something to call her, if they were going to be talking for a little bit. Maybe she'd make a new friend!
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Mar 16, 2024 10:11 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Leatherworker's

The leatherworker seemed to know his trade, because he eyed the boots Erynneth held up for a bit, nodded and promptly headed to the back of the store - where Kaylin assumed was his workshop.

She blinked when the girl half bombarded her with words. Was this what other people usually experienced when they met her? Kaylin couldn't help but smirk at the thought. "Umm, I wouldn't say I travel a lot. My husband and I just went on a lengthy trip to Dol Amroth and the Green Hills, but..." She frowned a bit as she thought over her reply. "I guess the Rangers have taken me to the crossing of the Poros, and before then the army has taken me to Cair Andros, and Osgiliath, and Ithilien." Most people didn't love to hear about places duty took you to, but the girl shouldn't be too unsettled. Hadn't she mentioned her father was a Ranger?

A grin mastered her face when the girl clearly realized she hadn't yet shared her name. Neither had Kaylin - so they were even. "Well met, Erynneth! I'm Kaylin. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance!" Kaylin leaned on the shop counter. "Who is your father? Maybe I know him? And if I don't, my husband Thûllir might. He was a Ranger of Ithilien for a long time before joining the King's Rangers here in the city."
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Erynneth
Leatherworker's shop

Listening, Eryn was quite impressed. Not only had she been to far more places than Erynneth had, but she was a ranger! "It's a pleasure to meet you.. is it Ranger Kaylin, or something different?" She wondered, wanting to make sure she addressed her properly. "I'm going to be a ranger too someday, when I'm old enough." She smiled, then added, "Well, when I'm old enough my father can't say no, that is." She grinned a little sheepishly. "He's a little too protective." She explained, and tilted her head to think about if she'd ever heard the name Thûllir mentioned. "Ohhh, I don't know if he does, but maybe!" She smiled. "I haven't heard him speak of anyone named Thûllir, but he doesn't tell me about everyone he knows. My father's name is Duinion Raedor, have you heard of him? He doesn't come into the city much at all, so maybe you haven't. But he's been a ranger since long before I was born."

Thinking back about some of the places Kaylin had mentioned having been, Eryn recalled an excursion she had once made as a child. "I've been to Ithilien...once. And Osgiliath. It was scary." She frowned, remembering how frightened she'd been, and then getting lost in the forest, until a ranger found her and brought her to her father. "I hope it isn't so scary now, with all that's happened with the King coming back and all." She added. "And the forest was so big, I got lost." She smiled. "But I think I would like it, if I knew my way around. Daddy talks about it so much, I feel as if I should know every tree and rock." She smiled. "Is it really as big as it seems?"
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Mar 16, 2024 10:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Leatherworker's

Kaylin shrugged when Erynneth asked whether it was 'Ranger Kaylin'. "I've been called plenty of things. The most recent one would technically be Hyandaner Kaylin. But please, just my first name will do just fine. I don't need any formal business when off duty. I get enough of that around here as it is." Her blue-grey eyes lit when she heard about the girl's plans. "Excellent!" She laughed. "I know all about overbearing fathers. Trust me, they end up loving it when their daughters do their own thing and own it." Her own father, Bracken, had been dead set about her joining the army years ago, and had sent her to Minas Tirith thinking she would actually be safer there than in her home town, Linhir. Poor man never saw her enlistment coming. Perhaps it was easier to join against your father's will when you didn't live in the same city anymore, though. In any case, her father had been far from thrilled upon finding out, but he had learned to accept her chosen profession and - or so Kaylin liked to think - had grown proud of it. Thinking of a rather crucial detail, she made a face. "As long as the daughters don't die, I imagine." A bit on the nose, perhaps, but the truth was the truth, and Kaylin wasn't one to sugarcoat things.

At Duinion's name, Kaylin nodded. "I know who he is - when I just got back to the City, Pele - the Captain - called on him during a ranger meeting." Her brow drew together in a slight frown when Erynneth said her visit to Ithilien and Osgiliath.. possibly or Osgiliath... had been scary. And that she hoped those locations were now less scary, with the return of the King. Some doubt crossed Kaylin's mind. Being a bit scared was good, or you just ended up doing stupid things. But you couldn't be too scared as a ranger (or a soldier), because that would held you back. That could mean the end. Catching herself, Kaylin blinked.

"Ithilien is pretty big, yes." She grinned and was about to say more, when the leatherworker reappeared, holding two pairs of boots in each arm.

"These are the best options for your wishes, in my opinion," he addressed them both at the same time. He firmly planted two pairs of boots on the counter in front of Erynneth, and two pairs in front of Kaylin. "Inspect them, and" he looked at Kaylin, "try them on. If these will not do, you can explain why and I will see if I have something else. Or if I can make you something to order."

Distracted, Kaylin took a look at the first pair. They were a bit shorter than her old pair and would reach just under her knees, but they were almost the exact same color of grey. They had laces going up the front so they would fit like a glove, but the leather was a bit tougher. The second pair was longer, over the knee, more supple leather like her old pair, with back lacing. They were dark brown. "Hmm. Thank you, I will try them on," she mumbled, and set about doing just that while Erynneth looked over her own options.
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Erynneth Raedor
Leatherworker's shop

Eryn grinned as Kaylin spoke about how her father was against her joining the army, too. She was glad to hear that her father had eventually come to accept it and be proud, according to what Kaylin said. Though she mentioned about 'as long as the daughters don't die. "Yes, I think that's what he's mostly worried about. I hope he won't be too..overbearing once I finally enlist. But, well, he made me promise to wait until I'm at least eighteen," She rolled her eyes at this.

Three whole years more! She wanted to be just like her father, and be an excellent ranger. But how could she ever hope to achieve that goal if he wouldn't let her join, and wouldn't let her learn the skills she would need? "My guess is that he's thinking that if I already know all the things they'll teach me in training, then I'll be out in the danger that much sooner... but if I still have to go through all the training and learn everything, it'll be that much longer before I'm allowed to go out into the real danger." she explained, sighing. "But, see, I figure that if I learned everything well before I joined up, then I'll just be that much better of a ranger, right?" It was frustrating, but she had given her promise that she wouldn't enlist yet. That promise didn't include anything about not seeking help in learning stuff from others before she enlisted, however...

About that time, the shopkeeper returned with some boots. As Eryn went to investigate both pairs he had brought out for her to see, she beamed happily at Kaylin's mention of her father and the meeting. "He told me about that!" She said happily. "I was so pleased for him. I'll bet he didn't like being called up in front of everyone, though." How she wished she could have been there... if someone hadn't forbidden her from joining the rangers yet, then she could have been! Still, she was very proud of her daddy for his achievement and hoped she would one day manage to get a similar badge.

As she talked, she was looking at the boots. The first thing she checked was the price... thankfully, they both appeared to be within her budget, and she was glad for that. Now, to decide which her father would like better, and which he would find most useful. Being a bit unused to purchasing things like boots and shoes, she took her time studying and comparing the two. Both seemed quite durable, and the leather appeared to be waxed, thus making them fairly waterproofed. She found a couple of hidden pockets and such on both pairs; it was the locations that varied, and she wasn't sure which he would prefer. Picking them up, she frowned, noticing that one pair felt heavier than the other, and she tried to think about her dad's preference. The heavier boots had thicker soles, which would be good for durability, but she tried to imagine him wearing those and creeping through the forest... it might be harder with heavy, clunky boots. The other pair felt a good bit lighter, and more conducive to agility and stealth. As a bonus, that pair was the cheaper of the two! "I think these," She decided, selecting the lighter-weight boots. She sort of liked the positioning of the hidden pockets better on these, too.
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Mar 16, 2024 10:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Leatherworker's

She couldn't help but smirk at Erynneth's comment about Duinion. "No, he did look a bit... uncomfortable." To be fair, he had looked uncomfortable for the whole meeting. Only even more so when Pele had called him forward. And then... well, then he had just seemed flabbergasted.

Meanwhile, Kaylin actually felt best in the grey pair that reached just below her knees. It was a bit of a surprise, given the leather was tougher than her previous pair. But they fit just right. It was almost as if they were made specifically for her. After Erynneth had made her choice plain, Kaylin walked back up to the counter. "These," she told the leatherworker without hesitation, pointing down at her feet. "Can I keep them on?"

The man waved at Kaylin, wordlessly saying it was fine, as he was finishing his trancation with Erynneth. "If your father would like something or other a bit different, I can still make small adjustments if he wants. I know them Rangers can be specific about their needs, and I have no problem meeting them. No extra costs."

He dealth with Kaylin next. "You want something to carry your old boots in, Master Sword?" A slight smile, which Kaylin hadn't thought he was capable of, played on his face. For a split moment, she was surprised. "Oh, erm..."
"Or I can just take dispose of them for you." The man shrugged.
Kaylin hesitated. That would be convenient... but she was so used to them. She shook her head at her own thoughts. No point in keeping a pair she wouldn't wear again. "That would be great. Thank you." She handed over her old pair, and then made a face. "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name..."

The leatherworker shrugged. "I don't remember yours either. But I know someone who was there when you hit someone over the head with a chair. Word travels fast, and you look just like he described. You don't forget a story like that easily. Or at least, I don't, no matter if it's been a couple of years."

Kaylin smiled sheepishly. She did have somewhat of a reputation. Not always in the best way, apparently. "Ahhh. Yes. That." She handed over the necessary coin to the man. "Well, thank you."
He nodded, and waited a while longer, to see if either of them would still ask anything of him.

With an apologetic shrug, Kaylin looked back at Erynneth, as she gestured for the exit. "So... Eighteen, huh? How long is that for you?"
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Pele, on Ranger business
At some fabric merchant's shop


Luckily the merchant had left some coordinates, even though they had agreed to meet elsewhere, so Pele weaved her way through the busy street until she found herself on the doorstep of a shop selling fabric and some ready-made clothing. The door was open, and it seemed that there was some activity going on inside, so the Ranger did not hesitate to step inside. There was a lady in the front room, sorting through a basket of leftover bits and pieces of fabric, apparently setting aside some that could still be used from useless scraps.

"May I help you, miss?" the lady asked, turning away from her basket to look at Pele.

"Is Mr Firdaus here?"

"He is in the back," the shop assistant said nodding the direction with her head. "I could go and call..."

Pele decided she did not wish to wait around to see when the merchant would deem it fit to come out here, so she stepped around the counter before the woman had even finished her sentence and allowed herself into a backroom which seemed like a busy anthill with people running back and forth with batches of fabric, boxes and other items. In the middle of it all a man sat, his booted feet on the desk, puffing contentedly on his clay pipe as he watched the others work.

"Mr Firdaus!" Pele said loudly enough for him to hear her over the din of the activity in the room.

He looked at her and nodded his greetings, without caring to take the pipe out of his mouth or remove his feet from the table.

"Why is it that you failed to be at the agreed location by the agreed time?" she demanded, as she made her way around the table. "Have you cancelled your trip?"

Blowing out a thick cloud of smoke, the man said: "Ah, you must be one of them Rangers. You must have patience. You see, things at the shop take more time sometimes, but we will be ready sometime soon."

"Sometime soon?" Pele's eyes narrowed on the man, his careless attitude depleting her normally plentiful reserves of patience exceptionally quickly. She was not prepared to be treated as if she were a lowly servant, even more so, as a slave. The man just shrugged his shoulders in response.

It took a lot of effort for Pele not to punch the man in the face, which she was tempted to do: young enough and stupidly arrogant he seemed to be. "Them Rangers are not sellswords for you to order around at will," she said, her voice a slight touch louder than it would be in a normal conversation, her tone commanding as if she was addressing an unruly recruit. "I give you an hour to get yourself sorted and out the city gate, or you will get none of our assistance. Is that clear?!"

The sudden change in the conversation not only took the merchant by surprise, but the activity in the whole room had paused, as the servants and workers looked on incredulously, seemingly not used to see their master challenged.

"I take it that you understand my demands," Pele said and then repeated: "One hour. Outside the city gate." Pushing his feet off the table in one swift motion, she turned around on her heel and left the shop in a huff, all but storming down the street.

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Erynneth Raedor
Leatherworker's shop

Eryn could easily imagine how uncomfortable he must have been. She tried to imagine how many other rangers might have been there. "Thank you sir, I think he'll be fairly happy with these." She answered the shopkeeper. After paying for the new boots, she paused, hearing him ask Kaylin if she'd like anything to put her old boots into. "May I have something, please? For both these, and the old ones. I'm not sure if he'd like to get rid of them, but as for the new ones, I don't want the surprise ruined." She grinned, watching as the shopkeeper nodded and got her an old sack to put the old ones into, and dug around for something better for the new ones.

The girl couldn't help being quite curious about this incident involving Kaylin, and glanced at her with some intrigue. "You hit someone over the head with a chair?" She asked, a little amused. Grinning, she took the packaged-up boots under one arm before heading for the exit. She paused as she remembered her stool and paused to readjust her grip on things to be able to add that into her load. "Oh, three more years." She sighed, answering Kaylin's question. "It seems like it'll be forever, but at least I've talked him into teaching me to shoot a bow. I guess he figures the better I know how to use a weapon, the better able to defend myself I'll be." She shrugged. "So about that chair thing, what did they do to deserve that?" She was far more curious about that.
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Mar 16, 2024 10:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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Leatherworker's & then Marketplace streets

"Would you like some help with that?" Kaylin asked as she held the door open for Erynneth, who was trying to juggle a sack, the packaged up new boots as well as the little stool.

She shrugged one shoulder when the girl asked about the 'chair incident', and then gave a slow nod as she stepped out of the shop after Erynneth. "Yes, I did," Kaylin drawled, as her light blue-grey eyes grew darker somehow. She would rather answer Erynneth's other questions than revisit that particular situation, but it wouldn't do to ignore the question completely. "It would make for an excellent story, if it didn't still make me so angry." Debating for a moment how to answer truthfully without inviting too many follow up questions, a sigh escaped. "He hurt a friend, who came to my doorstep for help." She remembered well how Hazel had been too ashamed to go to the houses of healing, and how much of a mess she'd been, sitting in that chair in their kitchen. Her right hand made a fist, her fingernails biting into her palm. That man had been lucky the city guard intervened when they did. And, she would admit begrudgingly, so was she. There were some things soldiers simply couldn't do, no matter how well you served the kingdom. And then she'd never been a Ranger, either. And yet... she would do it all again in a heartbeat.

"Shooting arrows is one thing, I suppose." Her voice sounded a bit strained, but the hint wore off as she continued, even though her right hand knuckled were still white. "But three years is a long time. You agreed not to enlist until then, but maybe there are some loopholes you can take advantage of?"

A familiar figure caught her eye then, and she frowned a bit as she saw Pele walking towards them with an expression which spelled 'THUNDER'. "Oh my," she mumbled, properly intrigued. "Look," she almost whispered to Erynneth. "Captain Pele. She seems maaaaaad." Part of her was racking her brain, furiously trying to make sure it wouldn't in any way be linked to her - even though she hadn't really done anything rebellious lately.

"Oy, Pele!" Kaylin called out to her friend when she was still a few yards away. They weren't on duty, after all. Although Pele did looked geared up. "What's wrong?" she asked, when Pele had crossed most of the distance left between them. Because something was obviously wrong.
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Erynneth Raedor
Streets outside the Leatherworker's shop

Eryn hesitated and looked at her load, debating if she ought to accept the offered help. But if they were going to separate places, then it would be a bit pointless, wouldn't it? Besides, she needed to carry it all the way back home on her own, so she'd better figure out how to do it. "Thank you, but... well, maybe if I rearrange things a bit... I have to be able to carry it all back home on my own, after all." She thought about how busy the streets had been, and figured she might ought to come up with a better method of carrying things or she'd be dropping things every time someone bumped her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." She frowned, feeling a little bad for asking to hear about the incident that apparently upset Kaylin. "I hope your friend was alright." Luckily the subject changed, and Eryn smiled at the suggestion of loopholes. "I've been thinking on the same thing..." She mentioned, glancing down at her stool with a secret little smile. "I mean, how can he expect me to wait three years to learn anything at all about being a ranger? If I'm going to be a good ranger, then I ought to know something about what it's like, shouldn't I?"

Looking around to see what Kaylin had spotted, she wondered what could have upset the captain so much. She couldn't remember if she had ever actually met the woman, but had heard a good deal about her and knew what she looked like, at least. "I wonder what could have happened?" She whispered back, recalling that her dad was supposed to have met with her a while earlier... "I thought they would have set off by now." She added with a slight frown, wondering where her father was. He didn't seem to be with Pele... which concerned her slightly. While she stood near Kaylin, hoping to learn what was going on, she thought it possible her father might show up in a moment, and her surprise would be ruined. Quickly, she stuffed the new boots into the sack with the old ones. There, two problems solved at once.
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Mar 16, 2024 10:13 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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@Rillewen , @Pele Alarion
Pele, storming through the market and running into Kaylin and Erynneth


Pele had been so worked up in her anger at the extreme carelessness and arrogance of the merchant that she was almost blind to everything else, and it was lucky that no one happened to be right in her way to test her limits even more. And so it was that Kaylin's call caused her to pay attention to the surroundings some more.

She came up to Kaylin and her young companion, and gestured angrily back into the direction she had been coming from. "Some merchant had thought it was a good idea to request escort for his travel, as if the Rangers have nothing else to do but run around protecting some dumb merchants'..." Pele explained briefly without any proper introductions, and with a look at Erynneth stopped herself from heartily cussing at the object of her wrath. "The guy was late; so I went to take a look and found him relaxing. Gave him one hour to get his things together, or I'll call off any support to the venture."

Having let off some of the steam, Pele now turned her attention to the two properly and looked at the bags, probably containing purchases. "Shopping?" she simply asked.
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Éowyn
Éowyn
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Open RP
@Rillewen
@Pele Alarion

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"Set off by now?" Kaylin repeated Erynneth's words quietly, the inflection going up at the end in slight interest. Where was Pele going? And with whom?

Pele's response was rather intriguing. A merchant had asked for a Ranger escort? And had received it? Kaylin hadn't thought such requests would have been granted - after all, there were plenty of ex-soldiers around looking for work. Wouldn't they be more appropriate as an escort? For a moment, her thoughts went to Lothar, and she wondered what in Middle-Earth that man was up to these days. She hadn't seen him around since her return - which granted, had just been a few weeks... but still.

Her attention snapped back to Pele right around the time the Captain said she'd given the merchant an hour to comply. When Pele asked if they were shopping, Kaylin rolled her eyes. "Out of necessity..." and seeing as Pele was on duty... "Captain." Then she realized the two others likely hadn't met. Or had they? "Have you two met?" she just spoke her mind, and when she saw the answer in their eyes, proceeded. "Okay, Captain - this is Erynneth Raedor. Duinion's daughter. Erynneth, Captain Pele Alarion."

Kaylin still wondered about the merchant. Did he have special pull? With Pele? Or the King? That he would get a Ranger escort? She wanted to know more. "Say, Pele... What merchant was this?" she gingerly tipped a toe into the water - or so to speak...
Arnyn ~ Honor & Valor
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength

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@Pele Alarion

Erynneth Raedor
Streets outside the Leatherworker's shop

Eryn would have answered to explain to Kaylin, but by that time Pele was there, ranting about a merchant. Eryn was aware of the merchant situation, her dad had told her all about that and then cruelly refused to allow her to come along. Maybe cruel was a little strong, but it wasn't fair, it was only a silly merchant escort thing, but he insisted it could still be dangerous and all his usual excuses. Now, it seemed, the silly merchant had stood them up. How incredibly rude!

Captain Alarion's abrupt change of subject caught her a bit off guard, and she nodded silently. Shopping, yes.. in a way, Erynneth supposed that could be an explanation. She started to ask a question but didn't get started in time, as Kaylin spoke to answer Captain Alarion first. "Um, no," She answered the ranger's question, shaking her head. She was fairly sure she hadn't met the captain, or if she had, she must have been too young to remember. "Hello Captain, congratulations on your promotion." She replied, offering a handshake, and hoping that was the proper thing to do. "My father told me all about it." She grinned, then hesitated, her smile faltering a bit as she glanced around. "Where..is my father? He was supposed to meet you some time ago..." She felt a bit concerned by the fact he didn't seem to be around anywhere. "Didn't he show up either?"
Last edited by Rillewen on Sat Mar 16, 2024 10:13 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

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