Among the Graves

[Saruna]

All thoughts of food flew from Saruna's head. Derin wanted to use a loom? Saruna felt excitement sweep her body at the thought of a young person to help her sew, and to enjoy that simple pastime with. As like with some older people, she didn't much notice that Derin didn't seem inclined either way towards a high level of interest, but it didn't matter to Saruna. She was feeling blessed to have met such a lovely young woman.

"Oh! Oh, oh, oh!" She crooned, standing up, "I absolutely must show you my workshop! Come along dear, it won't take but a minute or two," and then she was bustling through the living area and down a short extension of the house, to a door that looked newer than any other. Saruna was chatting the whole time about how it had been her husband's wood workshop, but after he'd died she just couldn't stand to leave it as he'd left it, so she'd converted it to a sewing room, and gosh please excuse the mess, but she had been so tired last night and hadn't made the time to clean it up yet. If her voice was starting to get a little froggy and hoarse, Saruna thought that Derin would forgive the throat clearings and coughs.

The door opened up to a spacious (but not large) room that was a smooth clay floor and plain walls. It had one window, small and warped with its panes made of thick glass that didn't do much but let light in. Two looms -- one large for making cloth, and another for weaving -- sat in the back corner, tidily swept up and covered in light blankets. Nearer to the left of the door was a long wooden table made of intersecting wooden joints, that was covered with simple swatches of fabric and thread and needles. A few patches of fabric littered the floor around the bench set up against it. To the right of the door was a wide, but smallish barrel that was filled with a dark liquid and a few pieces of fabric floating to the surface. On a small table next to it rested several clay pots clearly marked with large handwriting as various dyes.

There was a door next to that, that lead outside to a clothesline. On the far wall a short rack was set up, upon which a few spools of thread were neatly arranged by heft. It was a nice operation set up for ease and practicality, and as Saruna let Derin get a look at it she felt herself blush for her presumption. She did not want to look as though she was trying to coerce Derin into working with her, but by the sun and moon she was!

[Derin Edala]

For an old farmwoman, Derin thought that Saruna had done an impressive job of setting up a workshop. Apparently her instincts had been right; the woman was more powerful and resourceful than she let on.

Derin ignored the large loom -- making that sort of cloth was peasant's work, Derin had neither the interest nor the training for it -- and inspected the smaller one briefly. It appeared to be identical in design to the sort she had learned on. She fingered some of the sample swatches of cloth (many were rougher than she was used to; she had only woven from very high quality silk and thread at the manor) and smelled some of the dyes (again, some were familiar; many were not). Simply touching the tools caused a wave of calm to roll over her, which she immediately resented (stupid nonsensical emotions), remembering the hours she'd spent weaving and sewing at the manor. It was not the most engaging activity, but the workrooms were one of the few places that idiot husband of hers would never go and a brilliant refuge for when she was tired of his face. She used to stitch intricate geometric designs into her craftwork then. Many of the other ladies would love the formulaic, complex patterns marked out in bright theads; she'd frequently create items for them. They didn't recognise the patterns, of course; they were meaningless here, but it amused her to no end to see ladies wrap their children in swaddling clothes marked with her spellforms, or drape a dinner table with a cloth spelling out dire runic warnings for a fancy meal. She couldn't do that sort of thing here, of course; it would be brazen to the point of suicidal to walk around this town with spellforms displayed openly on her cloak, even if nobody was likely to recognise her patterns for exactly what they should be.

Derin shook herself out of her memories and carefully put down a pot of red dye. "You have a very well-outfitted little workroom," she told Saruna. "I would be honoured if you would permit me to use it, although I am out of practise... I haven't used any textile arts for several years." Or with these hands.

[Saruna]

Saruna felt a tremor sweep her body, and a sort of triumph that her will had prevailed. It had been awhile since she'd had that sort of feeling, usually after an argument with one of her daughters, and she immediately felt a little trickle of renewed shame. But she had done well with the shop, using her saved money to buy a new doodad at least once every year since her husband's death. She'd paid some youngsters to help her move and arrange things, and then it had been. . .just her. . .again.

"Thank you dear, thank you for your kind words. It hasn't been terribly long since I lost my husband, but even so I have tried to keep myself busy with my sewing. It is I who should be thanking you for blessing this old woman with your company." She stilled, and smiled a little wistfully, and looked at the room with Derin before shaking herself out of her reverie. "The porridge should be done now, let us go and eat it."

And she'd lead Derin back to the fire to dish it up and do just that.

[Derin Edala]

Derin followed Saruna back to the house and quietly accepted some porridge. It had been several weeks since she'd sat down to a meal she hadn't cooked herself; she'd almost forgotten how much fun it could be to eat, ha, properly cooked food. Don't go getting soft now.

She ate in silence for a while, pleased that everything seemed to have worked out if a little suspicious of Saruna's motives. It was too easy; the woman was far too overtly generous. What did she want from Derin? With everything that she seemed to offer, it must be something expensive or difficult that she was trying to coerce Derin into.

Well, she couldn't very well just leave, and without more information it was impossible to discern the woman's motives. Perhaps she should just wait it out and become as strong as possible in the meantime. Besides, it was highly unlikely that the woman knew anything of her real situation; even if she asked something dangerous and risky of Derin, it probably wasn't half as risky as Saruna would think. Derin would manage, somehow.

[Saruna]

The two women ate in relative silence, for as Derin was thinking so too was Saruna. Each burst of excitement worked on wearing her down, until she was considering sending Derin into Marn on her own while she took a nap. Saruna knew she couldn't do that to the younger woman, especially considering how large the city might appear to the farm woman. Saruna knew very well how intimidating Marn could be on the first visit, and she promised herself she wouldn't leave the other's side until she was more settled. She felt a momentary guilt for letting her children go so easily. It passed.

After the bowls were collected, and Saruna had deposited them in the basin for washing (and more water needed to be hauled, but Saruna simply could not summon the effort to do so now). All that remained was to check the baked goods, and Saruna grabbed her knitted hot pads. She offered them towards Derin, "Would you like to pull out the bread and cakes, dear?"

[Derin Edala]

Derin stood and went to the oven, did a double take, and went back for the heat pads. She'd burned her fingers dragging pots off the fire so many times that that should be automatic by now...

She'd never actually used such things, but their function was glaringly obvious; she pulled the baked goods out and set them on top of the oven.

"So... these are finished now, then? You just heat them up and they go hard and dark, and they're done?" She made to poke one before realising that she did not in fact know how hot they were; they could be as bad as metal.

[Saruna]

Saruna chuckled a little at Derin's question, and retrieved a dulled knife from her sparse collection of utensils. She offered it to Derin as she inhaled the aroma that steamed out from the baked goods. "Hopefully they do not go hard," she said with a little smile, "but yes, the heat firms them up and darkens them. The longer they are in the heat, the darker and harder they get. If you leave them in long enough they will become hard as rocks. Here now, you can cut one open to see how it turned out. If all goes well we shall pack them in a basket and start on our way to Marn."

The thought wasn't pleasing, and her voice dipped a little along with her smile. She was a stubborn woman, however, so she would keep smiling at Derin no matter how dismal she felt about their trip to the bigger city.

[Derin Edala]

Derin took the knife and cut one of the loaves open. Steam poured out, and she poked the dry, fluffy inside with the edge of the blade. The texture seemed a bit different from the high quality bread she'd eaten at the manor, although she wasn't sure; it had been several years ago now, her memory probably wasn't very reliable. It was certainly softer than the hard rolls she usually ate on the road, purchased from cheap vendors near closing time and often as not full of sand.

She still wasn't sure if she wanted to go to Marn. It was a stupid risk; Saruna had made is quite clear what the town thought of magic. Derin was about as magical as a cheap tin spoon, but her bracelet could not be confiscated. The enchantment was suitably disguised as a minor protection charm, but if professionals were able to get their hands on it for proper analysis they'd find the truth eventually and destroy it. That could not happen.

But gate guards were usually lax, weren't they? Under normal circumstances the spell was almost entirely self-contained and difficult to detect at all. Even if they bothered to pull her up on it at all, they'd accept that it was a minor protection charm, surely. And they'd let that through, wouldn't they?

She'd be fine if Saruna was with her. Saruna knew how things worked around here.

[Saruna]

Saruna wasn't necessarily a foolish woman, but she was quite adept at missing that which was not immediately obvious. She didn't notice Derin's thoughtfulness, or even the woman's inner turmoil; instead she peered around Derin at the baked items and smiled. Her head was full of thoughts of daughters and granddaughters and the promise of easy company. Magic items and magic itself was no where near the forefront of her mind, the angst from earlier having been stuffed back into its tidy place within her mind where such things were kept when it was unseemly to brood over them. One simply didn't brood in front of company if it could be helped.

"They are perfect! There we are now, I shall fetch my basket." And fetch it she did, lining it with pale linen so none of the crumbs could escape and the heat might be retained some. After that she set the bread to cooling on her small and well worn table, and then it was quite possibly time to leave.

"Are you ready then, dear?"

[Derin Edala]

"I... yes, I'm ready." Derin tugged on the sleeve covering her bracelet; a nervous habit that she'd been trying to break. Things should be fine. If there was trouble... she'd run. It's not like they had a chance of catching her if she could get out of sight. That should work. She shouldered her pack (she'd almost forgotten about that... it'd be foolish to take a risk specifically to get into town to trade gems and then end up leaving them at home) and made to follow Saruna.

[Saruna]

Saruna led the two from the house and through the village, taking a slow pace and walking with a casual economy that would let her retain much of her energy. It would likely be a long day ahead of her, and the earlier excitement had taken more out of her than she thought mere excitement could. Had she settled into such a slow life that the merest exertion tired her? It would seem so.

The sky was clear that day, and the people on the side roads and streets were cheerful enough. Life was bustling by, and Saruna took to tugging her shawl in close to her body. Too many people made her nervous for reasons she could never justify, but even she offered timid smiles and even, shockingly, a wave or two when she saw people she dealt with often. It bolstered her spirits right up, and it was with a lifted chin that they left the town of Shim and began walking the path towards the city. It had been a long time since Saruna had tread the path, and it was much longer than she remembered.

So, naturally, she turned away from her own inner troubles and focused on Derin's. "You seem nervous, dear, do you not like large cities?"

[Derin Edala]

"Uhm..." Dammit, she didn't have a convincing cover for everything. She decided to substitute one truth for another. "I don't really like groups of people. It makes me nervous when I can't keep an eye on everyone, and big towns are crowded and noisy... I'm not all that good at dealing with people, and it's hard to concentrate on too many at once." She used to be quite good at dealing with people, she reflected, but that was back when she had little use for conversation or diplomacy with them.

[Saruna]

Saruna plodded along, eyes kept mostly on the road even as she nodded thoughtfully to Derin's words. It nearly inspired her that this young woman was so easily understood and understandable. Saruna herself could empathize with Derin's words, having felt much of the same around too many strangers. But she didn't say any of this, instead thinking over her own lack of social graces until she realized that she had not responded to Derin.

"Ah, ah, I too feel much the same way." She said quickly, lamely, "But don't worry overmuch, still, there aren't too large of a passel of nasty folk around here. Marn, despite my differences with them, try not to suffer those of evil nature. And then at Shim we have the lord of the manor, so, well. . ."

She trailed off, smiling at Derin, then smiling at the road. She was wishing fairly desperately she had something interesting to talk about.

[Derin Edala]

Derin nodded absently at Saruna's words, although they weren't exactly comforting to somebody so easily classified as one "of evil nature". She'd never really worked out what that meant. She had a vague idea that endangering or harming people was "evil" and helping them was "good", but experience told her that it was the generous ones you needed to watch out for and that "good" forces, such as law enforcement or freedom fighters, frequently posed a far greater threat to her than most of the "evil" things she encountered. Ah well, moral philosophy had never interested her anyway.

One obvious question jumped out at her, though, and the way Saruna seemed to trail off gave her the perfect opportunity to ask it without interrupting (which seemed to make people uncomfortable). "Who is the Lord of the Manor?"

[Saruna]

Saruna's eyes slid and skittered from side to side, sweeping the ground and the trees and not quite looking at Derin. The matter made her uncomfortable. There were rumors of terrible things, terrible atrocities. What would Derin think of their small settlement, if she heard such things? Would she stay, or would she flee the area and damn Saruna for not giving her fair warning? Wrinkles creased Saruna's face, up around her forehead, around the corners of her mouth. They were not smile lines.

"Ah. That." She said, though short words, they were not clipped or snapped. They were soft, sorrowful. "I am not sure about that." Hesitant, timid. "I do not know if anyone knows quite who . . ." what ". . .there is nothing there to mess with. There are. . .things. Events. Sometimes." She was looking off towards the line of trees opposite Derin, and had to force herself to look at the line of trees behind Derin's form. "Well, if the people in Shim do things that are disagreeable, the Lord will punish them."

The entire sentance was fraught with pauses, dragged from Saruna's throat and lips with extreme reluctance. She went steadily pale.