Sometimes he felt the need to go into the world of men. His loneliness had been shattered a day ago. The man had been nice enough but he was dead now. The blue-tinged, bloated corpse had floated down the river and Coinneach watched it go. Now, he envisioned it in his mind and smiled. The few words they had exchanged near the end were hurried, frightened and angry, and it wasn't enough. Once he had broken his weeks-long silence he felt the urge to talk some more.
Coinneach quite liked Shim. It was small and always had a pretty enough maiden or two to flirt with. The farmers were hilariously funny when they recognized him and ran. But the best place to go was the Red Chalice Inn. Most of the people there were travelers and had no idea who he was. If he was a horse they'd look around warily and, seeing no owner, take him. It was always fun to watch the surprise on their faces when he suddenly bolted into the river, and the sudden fear. It was a shame they couldn't breathe underwater.
This time, however, he wanted to talk. Talking as a horse freaked people out even in these days, and as hilarious as that was he would rather just converse.
So Coinneach put on the dead man's clothes and walked up the road. Taking his time, by the time he was there he was mostly dry. The clothes were a bit too large for him but he didn't mind. The tunic was a dark white after being dunked in the water and matched his very pale skin. He didn't bother to lace the front of it like his victim had so it fell open. The breeches were black and sagged a bit low so he was forced to wear the belt. The boots were also too big but had to wear them -- without shoes people would think he was a beggar. He reasoned this way made him appear like a fellow traveler.
Upon entering the Inn the waitress recognized him, as did the owner, and he could practically see the sweat start dripping immediately. Ignoring the few other patrons sitting eating breakfast Coinneach sat at a table. The waitress watched him warily, as if he was going to grab her, and asked for his order in a shaking voice. He gave her his nicest smile and asked for pancakes. She nodded and backed away into the kitchen. The smile stayed on his face as he glanced at the few others in the room with his goldenrod eyes. Since it was morning most looked refreshed and ready to continue their journeys. The other two were alcoholics, already here for some ale, and they were talking to each other drunkenly about their farmhands.
He stretched back in the seat, relaxing, looking forward to some pancakes instead of grass. Grass was so yummy but it was hard to find a good patch of it these days. The waitress came back out momentarily and set the pancakes with some butter in front of him. "Thank you, miss," Coinneach said and watched her nod her head. She backed away again while watching him begin to eat. She was across the room when he finished chewing. "This is very good. Thank the cook for me?" She nodded her head vigorously and backed into the kitchen just like she had before. Coinneach smiled to himself and continued eating.
The River Spirit And The Bad Omen
The River Spirit And The Bad Omen
Last edited by Coinneach on Sat Oct 14, 2006 3:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Aislinn Vahtees
The dust on the dry road coated her cloak and dress. Her boots were caked in mud and all manner of sludge she had trekked through, not always keeping to the main roads, but veering off into fields and forests, avoiding large parties of travellers and what seemed to her to be undesirable folk. For Aislinn the honest folks were too few and far between. In her experience most had a mean streak and all wanted something for nothing. She had nothing to offer, only the clothes on her back and the flute and rations in her travelling bag.
She had been on the road for many days, with no inns or even a dodgy tavern to sell her songs in, she had been hungry for at least two of those days, and had slept rough for more then four. Her legs were aching, but that was a constant dull ache now that she had gotten used too. She stared blankly ahead, her mind quiet. Not because she was either content or brain dead, she was too close too exhaustion to think about anything of consequence. Everything was habit and reflex now. Every step was the same, going nowhere yet leading her away from absolute nothingness.
Staring at the road ahead she found something to break the monotony of the last few days. Farms were beginning to dwindle and houses that looked more then shacks and far from abandoned started to crop up more often along the highway. She had no idea where she was, she was a foreigner in this strange land, yet she got the distinct feeling she was no longer in the wild. Apprehension started to creep in, and the desire to avoid any mishaps, which meant avoiding people. But the desire for conversation and a soft bed outstripped her innate response to flee, and the inevitable consequences of contact with people were swept from her weary mind, in favour of the warm fires and babble of conversation that accompanied playing in a busy inn.
When she was in the town proper she stopped an old woman rushing down the street and asked the name of where she had found herself. The woman looked at her sidelong, obviously wanting to be as far away from this stranger as possible. If Aislinn hadn't been holding her arm gently, she was sure that would have been exactly what would have transpired. An almost audible whisper answered the weary travellers question.
''Shim...'' Aislinn let the poor woman go, who rushed off without even a look back at Aislinn. She trotted off into what must have been the centre of the town. Much of Shim was surrounded by farmland and the small homes she had spotted on her way into the main town square. Here there was a cemetery, an odd place for it, particularly since it appeared that it was vacant, and indeed the townsfolk seemed to avoid it. She wondered at this briefly, but her tired mind did not bother thinking upon it further. She knew better then anyone the strange superstitions of people, and their adverse reactions to what they did not understand. Most avoided such things, or ignored them. Unfortunately Aislinn was far more used to the violent reactions.
Overlooking Shim was a hill. It was located to the north of the little town and with a grandiose mansion atop it. Aislinn shivered as a blustery wind whipped up her cloak and exposed her pale skin to the cold evening air. She had every reason to be so unnerved at the site. She had been dreaming about it for the last seven nights. What disturbed her more was that she could only remember the mansion, that view and that vision...and a strong sense of danger and foreboding. Knowing what these dreams normally preceded, she sighed and resigned herself to the inevitable.
Tearing her eyes from the hill, and looking around the town square, she headed towards the first tavern her eyes fell upon. The Red Chalice Inn...Swinging the doors open and heading straight for the barkeep, she asked if they desired to hire a flutist for the evening. She was only slightly taken aback when the response was positive. The town itself seemed fairly quite, not as rowdy to what she was used to. Perhaps some here might appreciate the soft sound of her soporific melodies?
She had been on the road for many days, with no inns or even a dodgy tavern to sell her songs in, she had been hungry for at least two of those days, and had slept rough for more then four. Her legs were aching, but that was a constant dull ache now that she had gotten used too. She stared blankly ahead, her mind quiet. Not because she was either content or brain dead, she was too close too exhaustion to think about anything of consequence. Everything was habit and reflex now. Every step was the same, going nowhere yet leading her away from absolute nothingness.
Staring at the road ahead she found something to break the monotony of the last few days. Farms were beginning to dwindle and houses that looked more then shacks and far from abandoned started to crop up more often along the highway. She had no idea where she was, she was a foreigner in this strange land, yet she got the distinct feeling she was no longer in the wild. Apprehension started to creep in, and the desire to avoid any mishaps, which meant avoiding people. But the desire for conversation and a soft bed outstripped her innate response to flee, and the inevitable consequences of contact with people were swept from her weary mind, in favour of the warm fires and babble of conversation that accompanied playing in a busy inn.
When she was in the town proper she stopped an old woman rushing down the street and asked the name of where she had found herself. The woman looked at her sidelong, obviously wanting to be as far away from this stranger as possible. If Aislinn hadn't been holding her arm gently, she was sure that would have been exactly what would have transpired. An almost audible whisper answered the weary travellers question.
''Shim...'' Aislinn let the poor woman go, who rushed off without even a look back at Aislinn. She trotted off into what must have been the centre of the town. Much of Shim was surrounded by farmland and the small homes she had spotted on her way into the main town square. Here there was a cemetery, an odd place for it, particularly since it appeared that it was vacant, and indeed the townsfolk seemed to avoid it. She wondered at this briefly, but her tired mind did not bother thinking upon it further. She knew better then anyone the strange superstitions of people, and their adverse reactions to what they did not understand. Most avoided such things, or ignored them. Unfortunately Aislinn was far more used to the violent reactions.
Overlooking Shim was a hill. It was located to the north of the little town and with a grandiose mansion atop it. Aislinn shivered as a blustery wind whipped up her cloak and exposed her pale skin to the cold evening air. She had every reason to be so unnerved at the site. She had been dreaming about it for the last seven nights. What disturbed her more was that she could only remember the mansion, that view and that vision...and a strong sense of danger and foreboding. Knowing what these dreams normally preceded, she sighed and resigned herself to the inevitable.
Tearing her eyes from the hill, and looking around the town square, she headed towards the first tavern her eyes fell upon. The Red Chalice Inn...Swinging the doors open and heading straight for the barkeep, she asked if they desired to hire a flutist for the evening. She was only slightly taken aback when the response was positive. The town itself seemed fairly quite, not as rowdy to what she was used to. Perhaps some here might appreciate the soft sound of her soporific melodies?
When the door opened Coinneach looked up from his pancakes. It was a woman. He raked her quickly with his eyes and went back to his pancakes. Perhaps she would be pretty if wasn't so obviously bone-weary. What a shame.
He idly listened to her asking the barkeep if she could play for them this evening. A flutist? Well, how long had it been since he had heard a flute? He would have to wait and hear this.
As he was just chewing the last bite of his pancakes the two drunken men began to make a commotion. They began saying obscene things about the woman who had just walked in. Ignoring his glare, they made fun of the dirt on her, saying she had been rolling on the ground with too many men. Before they could go on to say any more Coinneach stood. He already hated drunken men, and he would definitely not stand idly by while they said such things.
The barkeep noticed him standing staring with evil intent in his eyes at the two farmers and was distracted from the flutist. Bidding her to excuse him he shuffled over to stand almost in the way of Coinneach's glare. He rubbed his hands nervously when Coinneach took a step away from his table. He bowed a little bit and mumbled nervously, "Sir, please, would you like some more pancakes? Or a drink? Don't pay any attention to these men, they will be leaving shortly..." He trailed off when Coinneach sat back down at his table.
"You'd better hurry with those pancakes then, I lack patience," Coinneach grumbled. He'd rather avoid the trouble killing more townspeople might cause. Anyway, if he killed in front of the others they would probably run away. That doesn't go very well with conversation.
As the barkeep refused the men's requests for more ale and shooed them out of the establishment, Coinneach looked to the flutist. He smiled nicely at her and waited for his pancakes.
He idly listened to her asking the barkeep if she could play for them this evening. A flutist? Well, how long had it been since he had heard a flute? He would have to wait and hear this.
As he was just chewing the last bite of his pancakes the two drunken men began to make a commotion. They began saying obscene things about the woman who had just walked in. Ignoring his glare, they made fun of the dirt on her, saying she had been rolling on the ground with too many men. Before they could go on to say any more Coinneach stood. He already hated drunken men, and he would definitely not stand idly by while they said such things.
The barkeep noticed him standing staring with evil intent in his eyes at the two farmers and was distracted from the flutist. Bidding her to excuse him he shuffled over to stand almost in the way of Coinneach's glare. He rubbed his hands nervously when Coinneach took a step away from his table. He bowed a little bit and mumbled nervously, "Sir, please, would you like some more pancakes? Or a drink? Don't pay any attention to these men, they will be leaving shortly..." He trailed off when Coinneach sat back down at his table.
"You'd better hurry with those pancakes then, I lack patience," Coinneach grumbled. He'd rather avoid the trouble killing more townspeople might cause. Anyway, if he killed in front of the others they would probably run away. That doesn't go very well with conversation.
As the barkeep refused the men's requests for more ale and shooed them out of the establishment, Coinneach looked to the flutist. He smiled nicely at her and waited for his pancakes.
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Aislinn Vahtees
Aislinn had been in enough inns to know it was best to ignore the thugs and trouble makers who jeered and leered at her. The two man doing so now didn't even make her bat and eyelid. She calmly walked around them and took her place on a stool at the back of the inn, far from the bar but near the kitchen door. the smell of pancakes and syrup, soups, meats and marinades made her mouth begin to fill with saliva. not good for playing the flute but she couldn't help herself. She couldn't eat until she had played and needed to play well to earn her food and bed.
Removing the instrument from its battered wooden case, and raising it to her chapped but now moist lips she blew into the flute,playing the first smooth note of her favourite song...
The haunting sound of the flute silenced the room immediately. It felt like every eye was on her, focussing on the evocative sound of her melodies. Closing her eyes and allowing herself to be lost in the song helped her play better. It made her forget her troubles and took her away from the mundane travels throughout this dreary world. It reminded her of a happier time, before her life was turned upside down, before the dreams started.
The crowd, enraptured by her song, even the two thugs from before had stopped mid-fury and stood there slack jawed and in awe. She was used to this reaction, and always grateful. It usually earned her a better bed then might have been offered and food that was not spoiled. It was all she could hope for and more then she'd ask for. At the end of her requiem, she slipped the flute back into its case and made her way through the crowd, he had just seemed to come too, and arrived at the bar.The room seemed calmer and more jovial, which she knew had been down to her.
''Well done lass! That's the most attention I have seen anyone garner from this lot.'' He dropped her a wink and pointed towards the kitchen door with his chubby arm. ''I'd would love it if you could stick around for a couple of days at least. Let word get around that I have a talented flutist playing at my inn.'' She smiled gratefully, and nodded in acquiescence. It was a relief to know she would be standing still for a few days.
''I'll be taking my food up to my room if thats ok. I will come back in a couple of hours?'' It was more a request then a statement. But she really needed a little rest before she got up there again. Thankfully the barkeep nodded, and she headed off in the direction of the kitchen, following that appetizing aroma of hot food and spices...
Removing the instrument from its battered wooden case, and raising it to her chapped but now moist lips she blew into the flute,playing the first smooth note of her favourite song...
The haunting sound of the flute silenced the room immediately. It felt like every eye was on her, focussing on the evocative sound of her melodies. Closing her eyes and allowing herself to be lost in the song helped her play better. It made her forget her troubles and took her away from the mundane travels throughout this dreary world. It reminded her of a happier time, before her life was turned upside down, before the dreams started.
The crowd, enraptured by her song, even the two thugs from before had stopped mid-fury and stood there slack jawed and in awe. She was used to this reaction, and always grateful. It usually earned her a better bed then might have been offered and food that was not spoiled. It was all she could hope for and more then she'd ask for. At the end of her requiem, she slipped the flute back into its case and made her way through the crowd, he had just seemed to come too, and arrived at the bar.The room seemed calmer and more jovial, which she knew had been down to her.
''Well done lass! That's the most attention I have seen anyone garner from this lot.'' He dropped her a wink and pointed towards the kitchen door with his chubby arm. ''I'd would love it if you could stick around for a couple of days at least. Let word get around that I have a talented flutist playing at my inn.'' She smiled gratefully, and nodded in acquiescence. It was a relief to know she would be standing still for a few days.
''I'll be taking my food up to my room if thats ok. I will come back in a couple of hours?'' It was more a request then a statement. But she really needed a little rest before she got up there again. Thankfully the barkeep nodded, and she headed off in the direction of the kitchen, following that appetizing aroma of hot food and spices...
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Blood Ravenous
- Battlemage
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Sun Jun 05, 2005 9:23 pm
- Name: Ryxa
- Race: Human
Kinda short (^_^; )
The next mouthful of pancake didn't make it all the way to Coinneach's mouth. He stared at the woman, transfixed by her song. It was beautiful, echoing the own sorrow he felt at times. When she finished he finally realized that his pancakes were getting cold. The melody lingered in his ears and his appetite disappeared. He lowered the fork to the plate with a clink and continued to watch her as she walked to the kitchen.
With a quick decision he stood and strode up to the flutist. When he caught up he tapped her politely on the shoulder. "Excuse me, miss," he said pleasantly, intent on starting a conversation, "I am deeply curious about where you learned to play so beautifully. Would you like to sit with me at my table?"
With a quick decision he stood and strode up to the flutist. When he caught up he tapped her politely on the shoulder. "Excuse me, miss," he said pleasantly, intent on starting a conversation, "I am deeply curious about where you learned to play so beautifully. Would you like to sit with me at my table?"
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Aislinn Vahtees
The interruption was not unexpected, and even though it was not particularly welcomed, she forced a smile and turned to face him . It would not do her much good to antagonize the patrons of this tavern if she expected to stay for a while. The tempting aroma's from the kitchen teased her tastebuds, and made her stomach rumble louder. She was starving, and that was not an exageration. Maybe this man would understand if she just mentioned she hadn't eaten for a few days...
The man who had tapped her shoulder was taller then she was, but not so much that she had to crane her neck to talk to him. His features were not particularly handsome in Aislinn's eyes, but she guessed he might turn the head of other women enough to be labelled with good looks. His golden hair dominated his features, almost enough to draw attention away from the odd colour of his eyes. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something there that was vaguely familiar. The way he cocked his head, and the way his hair parted and flowed down the right side, perfectly straight and almost distracting, for women who entertained such foolish notions.
His skin was paler then even Aislinn's and made her wonder whether he was also a foreigner. No one she had seen in this land had looked as he did. Even his toned body looked wet, from sweat she supposed, although the heat in here did not account for his perspiration...not really.
Had she been more alert she may have found even one of these oddities reason enough to steer clear, but all she could do for now was answer his polite questions.
''I was taught by my father when I was a child.'' She struggled to keep the pain and strain from her voice when she talked of her family, but she knew she was too tired to succeed. ''It was all the entertainment and joy I had for many years, so I have had a lot of practice with it, and play my own songs.'' That was only touching the surface of the truth, but it was all she was going to divulge. No one had heard those songs before, but she knew they were not her own. She often thought they were perhaps echoes of an age long since dead and forgotten even by the history books.
''I thank you for your invitation, but I must decline...'' Her stomach gave a loud rumble that she was sure he must have heard. An embarrassed look invaded her calm serenity and she gave the kitchen a sidelong glance before returning her attention to him. ''I apologize but I am very hungry sir, I must eat something before my stomach starts eating itself!'' She forced a wider smile, trying to make light of her dire situation.
The man who had tapped her shoulder was taller then she was, but not so much that she had to crane her neck to talk to him. His features were not particularly handsome in Aislinn's eyes, but she guessed he might turn the head of other women enough to be labelled with good looks. His golden hair dominated his features, almost enough to draw attention away from the odd colour of his eyes. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something there that was vaguely familiar. The way he cocked his head, and the way his hair parted and flowed down the right side, perfectly straight and almost distracting, for women who entertained such foolish notions.
His skin was paler then even Aislinn's and made her wonder whether he was also a foreigner. No one she had seen in this land had looked as he did. Even his toned body looked wet, from sweat she supposed, although the heat in here did not account for his perspiration...not really.
Had she been more alert she may have found even one of these oddities reason enough to steer clear, but all she could do for now was answer his polite questions.
''I was taught by my father when I was a child.'' She struggled to keep the pain and strain from her voice when she talked of her family, but she knew she was too tired to succeed. ''It was all the entertainment and joy I had for many years, so I have had a lot of practice with it, and play my own songs.'' That was only touching the surface of the truth, but it was all she was going to divulge. No one had heard those songs before, but she knew they were not her own. She often thought they were perhaps echoes of an age long since dead and forgotten even by the history books.
''I thank you for your invitation, but I must decline...'' Her stomach gave a loud rumble that she was sure he must have heard. An embarrassed look invaded her calm serenity and she gave the kitchen a sidelong glance before returning her attention to him. ''I apologize but I am very hungry sir, I must eat something before my stomach starts eating itself!'' She forced a wider smile, trying to make light of her dire situation.
When the flutist turned he was extremely surprised to see how she appeared this close. The exhaustion Coinneach had seen from afar was greatly exaggerated while looking into her bloodshot, green eyes. Her whole being seemed to be tired, making her seem old despite her youth. Before she even uttered a word he wondered what this poor woman had been through.
When she recounted her story he felt an echo of the song she had played before: misery. Again he wondered what had happened to make her so sad and worn. A small bit of pity stirred in his chest and he had to concentrate to not let it show on his face. How odd.
The rumbling of her stomach snapped him out of contemplating this. "Oh, I'm…sorry. Maybe you can join me later. I take it you'll be staying awhile?" Coinneach had heard her conversation with the barkeep so, of course, he knew she would be. He just wanted to hear a few more words before she left. Then he realized that his face probably looked too eager, and calmed it lest she think it was for the wrong reason. Instead, he returned her smile. It was easy; he liked her politeness.
When she recounted her story he felt an echo of the song she had played before: misery. Again he wondered what had happened to make her so sad and worn. A small bit of pity stirred in his chest and he had to concentrate to not let it show on his face. How odd.
The rumbling of her stomach snapped him out of contemplating this. "Oh, I'm…sorry. Maybe you can join me later. I take it you'll be staying awhile?" Coinneach had heard her conversation with the barkeep so, of course, he knew she would be. He just wanted to hear a few more words before she left. Then he realized that his face probably looked too eager, and calmed it lest she think it was for the wrong reason. Instead, he returned her smile. It was easy; he liked her politeness.
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Aislinn Vahtees
Relief flooded through her when she realised she hadn't offended. Too many bad things were kicked off by misunderstandings and people feeling slighted. His amiable manner relaxed her. She was inclined to think that perhaps he had ulterior motives, but she had also learnt on her travels that you took kindness when it was offered. The balance between being cautious and being friendly, and not giving the wrong impression to the wrong people was taxing at times. The noise level in the room seemed to be increasing now she had finished playing and her head was starting to pound. Her left hand fluttered to her temple and she rubbed it gently, willing the chronic headache to remain at bay. It was an ill omen indeed, as it usually preceded bad dreams and sometimes even the dreaded visions.
She relaxed her face and smiled warmly at him. ''I would be honoured, thank you sir. When I have rested and eaten I will be playing again, then perhaps I may join you?'' It was only half a question as he had already offered, but Aislinn was not one to take everybody at their word. She bowed graciously and backed away, heading for the kitchen. Almost as an after thought she called over to him, before being pushed into the kitchen by the busy serving girls, ''My name is Aislinn by the way. I am pleased to make your acquaintance!''
With a deep breath she headed deeper into the kitchen and had a tray thrust into her arms. The cook did not look pleased to have a dirty musician getting in her way and ordered her out through the servants door. There a young lad awaited her.
''Want me to carry that for you miss?'' He didn't give her a chance to answer and relived her of her food. The smell of the hot stew and fresh bread made her stomach feel even emptier. She followed the boy up the narrow stairs and into a small guest room in the attic. He put the tray on a small, battered table and was gone before she could thank him.
The meal was gone in minutes and soon she was lying there, full and nourished and lying atop a soft goose-down mattress. She hadn't expected that at all. She must have looked a wretched sight for the barkeep to feel this sorry for her. She smiled nevertheless and welcomed sleep. It had been so long since she had been able to sleep without fear and hunger plaguing her body and mind...
She relaxed her face and smiled warmly at him. ''I would be honoured, thank you sir. When I have rested and eaten I will be playing again, then perhaps I may join you?'' It was only half a question as he had already offered, but Aislinn was not one to take everybody at their word. She bowed graciously and backed away, heading for the kitchen. Almost as an after thought she called over to him, before being pushed into the kitchen by the busy serving girls, ''My name is Aislinn by the way. I am pleased to make your acquaintance!''
With a deep breath she headed deeper into the kitchen and had a tray thrust into her arms. The cook did not look pleased to have a dirty musician getting in her way and ordered her out through the servants door. There a young lad awaited her.
''Want me to carry that for you miss?'' He didn't give her a chance to answer and relived her of her food. The smell of the hot stew and fresh bread made her stomach feel even emptier. She followed the boy up the narrow stairs and into a small guest room in the attic. He put the tray on a small, battered table and was gone before she could thank him.
The meal was gone in minutes and soon she was lying there, full and nourished and lying atop a soft goose-down mattress. She hadn't expected that at all. She must have looked a wretched sight for the barkeep to feel this sorry for her. She smiled nevertheless and welcomed sleep. It had been so long since she had been able to sleep without fear and hunger plaguing her body and mind...
"My name is Aislinn by the way. I am pleased to make your acquaintance!"
She was in the kitchen before he could reply. That was for the best, he supposed...
Coinneach would be meeting her later in the day. How interesting. He felt a little excited at the prospect of engaging in conversation, already wondering what the woman might say.
He meandered slowly to his table, looking at the other patrons. A few people were coming down from the rooms and getting breakfast and some of the early birds were leaving. As he sat poking at his pancakes he watched them talking and eating. The conversation in the room turned into a slight buzz that was a bit annoying.
However, before he decided to find something else to do, a young woman entered. Her skin was tanned from working in the fields with her family and she wore a simple dress. She was carrying a package. Her face was pretty, a pleasing shape, and her eyes were blue. Neat, light brown hair flowed from beneath the straw hat she wore to brush her shoulders. The girl smiled at someone sitting at a table and walked past Coinneach to talk to the server, handing her the package and giving her half a hug.
Coinneach watched her the whole time as she talked to the server, who was heading for Coinneach's table while looking at the newcomer rather than the kelpie. The pair reached his table and the farm girl trailed off to stare startled at Coinneach. Coin flashed her his most handsome smile. "Hello, fair maiden," he said.
Before he could say more the waitress coughed lightly and asked him, "Are the pancakes not to your liking?" Coin had noticed her looking at him briefly to see if he needed anything and she had seen him stop eating, but hadn't dared approach until now. Coinneach turned his smile to her. "No, they are quite good. I just lost my appetite. You can blame your lovely friend for that, for when she entered the room I lost all desire for food," he replied and continued while looking at the other girl, "and rather for her." The waitress turned red but her companion only stared dumbly.
"What?" she asked. Not too bright…
Coinneach stood, making the two of them step back. He took up the young woman's hand and lifted it in front of him. "Please tell me your name," he requested. The waitress was shocked and all color drained from her face, but her friend Margretta only smiled bashfully. "Margretta, sir," she replied, smiling back at him.
"Perhaps if you are not busy, you will join me outside for a walk?" Margretta nodded, not meeting his eyes as he kissed her hand. They headed for the door, Coinneach leading.
"Margretta--!" the waitress said with obvious panic. When her friend turned back to frown at her, Coinneach glared over her head. The waitress hung her head and turned around. Margretta faced him again with a shrug and followed him out.
She was in the kitchen before he could reply. That was for the best, he supposed...
Coinneach would be meeting her later in the day. How interesting. He felt a little excited at the prospect of engaging in conversation, already wondering what the woman might say.
He meandered slowly to his table, looking at the other patrons. A few people were coming down from the rooms and getting breakfast and some of the early birds were leaving. As he sat poking at his pancakes he watched them talking and eating. The conversation in the room turned into a slight buzz that was a bit annoying.
However, before he decided to find something else to do, a young woman entered. Her skin was tanned from working in the fields with her family and she wore a simple dress. She was carrying a package. Her face was pretty, a pleasing shape, and her eyes were blue. Neat, light brown hair flowed from beneath the straw hat she wore to brush her shoulders. The girl smiled at someone sitting at a table and walked past Coinneach to talk to the server, handing her the package and giving her half a hug.
Coinneach watched her the whole time as she talked to the server, who was heading for Coinneach's table while looking at the newcomer rather than the kelpie. The pair reached his table and the farm girl trailed off to stare startled at Coinneach. Coin flashed her his most handsome smile. "Hello, fair maiden," he said.
Before he could say more the waitress coughed lightly and asked him, "Are the pancakes not to your liking?" Coin had noticed her looking at him briefly to see if he needed anything and she had seen him stop eating, but hadn't dared approach until now. Coinneach turned his smile to her. "No, they are quite good. I just lost my appetite. You can blame your lovely friend for that, for when she entered the room I lost all desire for food," he replied and continued while looking at the other girl, "and rather for her." The waitress turned red but her companion only stared dumbly.
"What?" she asked. Not too bright…
Coinneach stood, making the two of them step back. He took up the young woman's hand and lifted it in front of him. "Please tell me your name," he requested. The waitress was shocked and all color drained from her face, but her friend Margretta only smiled bashfully. "Margretta, sir," she replied, smiling back at him.
"Perhaps if you are not busy, you will join me outside for a walk?" Margretta nodded, not meeting his eyes as he kissed her hand. They headed for the door, Coinneach leading.
"Margretta--!" the waitress said with obvious panic. When her friend turned back to frown at her, Coinneach glared over her head. The waitress hung her head and turned around. Margretta faced him again with a shrug and followed him out.
-
Aislinn Vahtees
:|
A light. The sun. The stars. Gleaming. Glaring. A path... a forest path....overgrown, old, no one comes here anymore.... FLASH! Mother. My flute. ''No one plays better then my beautiful Aislinn....'' Her voice, so distant...so sad. Why is she sad? Did I make you sad mother? FLASH! Water. A river... a cold night, a full moon... something under the unbroken surface of the black water...something that wants me....wants to kill me... wants to speak to... FLASH! A village, not Shim. Where is Shim? Not here...this is not Shim. The past, always the past, the past will never go away... the village, the girl, the blood, oh gods the blood, so much blood, so sticky and warm...she won't stop bleeding, how can I make it stop? How can I stop it? How can I stop seeing, believing, crying!! FLASH!!!
''ello, miss, you said to be woken when...''
Aislinn shot up in her bed, her heart racing and sweat dripping, soaking her clothes. She looked around the unfamiliar room and panic started to swell inside her... Where was she? Why was she so scared?
She didn't even register the boy's presence until he moved to the bottom of the strange bed and smiled his gappy smile. Then she started to recall. She was in Shim, somewhere in a place called Thar Shadin, and in a tavern. She prodded her memory for the name of the tavern and grasped it before it fluttered away again.
'The Red Chalice Inn...'' She muttered, and sighed with relief.
''The boss said to wake you for your performance m'lady.'' He offered her a damp rag he had been holding for a while it seemed. A pool of water had gathered where his hand had been hanging. she took it, relishing the cold feel on her feverish skin. She knew that feeling, that disjointedness. It always happened after she had a nightmare...and the nightmares always preceded what she feared most.
Throwing the covers back she got out of bed and walked over to the wash basin. Throwing water on her face she attempted to wash away the night sweats and dispell the foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach. When she looked in the cracked and bubbled mirror she saw a wearied woman, who might be young and beautiful behind the tired skin and tortured eyes. Once she had smiled and it had lit up that face. Once she had seen a girl with nothing but happiness and a freedom of spirit behind those eyes. Now, all she saw was fear and bone tiredness. She fled her future as well as her past and had ended up in Limbo, if Thar Shadin called be called Limbo.
With out turning from the washstand she thanked the boy and dismissed him. It wasn't until she heard the door close that she stripped, washed her sweaty skin and redressed in her other dress. She would wash her other clothes tomorrow, if she was still her tomorrow. A tear escaped her left eye... she hoped she was still here tomorrow, but the omens were not good. For the first time in weeks she had found somewhere to rest. She needed to rest. But life, no fate, was cruel.
The common room was bustling this time of the evening, but she took no notice of it. She simply walked up to the pedestal and sat on the wooden stool. She did not pay any attention to the crowd, only put her instrument to her lips and played. Her heart was being unraveled in every song, her fears and hopes, her lost dreams and plaguing nightmares. She was enthralled by her own song, allowed herself to be, as only the melody could protect her from the future... she would play until she had no more breath to produce the haunting notes of her flute, she would play until....
Applause. It was over.
Then she remembered, and regretted. She had promised to speak with that man. She looked around the room and could not locate him. Perhaps she was at last getting some of that good luck she had surely earned? Perhaps she could make it to the staircase without him noticing her? Pushing through the crowd that had now returned to its chaotic state of din she made her way to the servants staircase by the kitchen, but it was hard going. By the time she got half way there though, she stopped and sighed regrettably. Aislinn hated breaking a promise, and if she planned on staying a while it was best not to make enemies, or at least not to slight a patron. Turning around she heading for the table they had agreed to meet at. Still there was no sign of him, and she hoped he had forgotten...
''ello, miss, you said to be woken when...''
Aislinn shot up in her bed, her heart racing and sweat dripping, soaking her clothes. She looked around the unfamiliar room and panic started to swell inside her... Where was she? Why was she so scared?
She didn't even register the boy's presence until he moved to the bottom of the strange bed and smiled his gappy smile. Then she started to recall. She was in Shim, somewhere in a place called Thar Shadin, and in a tavern. She prodded her memory for the name of the tavern and grasped it before it fluttered away again.
'The Red Chalice Inn...'' She muttered, and sighed with relief.
''The boss said to wake you for your performance m'lady.'' He offered her a damp rag he had been holding for a while it seemed. A pool of water had gathered where his hand had been hanging. she took it, relishing the cold feel on her feverish skin. She knew that feeling, that disjointedness. It always happened after she had a nightmare...and the nightmares always preceded what she feared most.
Throwing the covers back she got out of bed and walked over to the wash basin. Throwing water on her face she attempted to wash away the night sweats and dispell the foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach. When she looked in the cracked and bubbled mirror she saw a wearied woman, who might be young and beautiful behind the tired skin and tortured eyes. Once she had smiled and it had lit up that face. Once she had seen a girl with nothing but happiness and a freedom of spirit behind those eyes. Now, all she saw was fear and bone tiredness. She fled her future as well as her past and had ended up in Limbo, if Thar Shadin called be called Limbo.
With out turning from the washstand she thanked the boy and dismissed him. It wasn't until she heard the door close that she stripped, washed her sweaty skin and redressed in her other dress. She would wash her other clothes tomorrow, if she was still her tomorrow. A tear escaped her left eye... she hoped she was still here tomorrow, but the omens were not good. For the first time in weeks she had found somewhere to rest. She needed to rest. But life, no fate, was cruel.
The common room was bustling this time of the evening, but she took no notice of it. She simply walked up to the pedestal and sat on the wooden stool. She did not pay any attention to the crowd, only put her instrument to her lips and played. Her heart was being unraveled in every song, her fears and hopes, her lost dreams and plaguing nightmares. She was enthralled by her own song, allowed herself to be, as only the melody could protect her from the future... she would play until she had no more breath to produce the haunting notes of her flute, she would play until....
Applause. It was over.
Then she remembered, and regretted. She had promised to speak with that man. She looked around the room and could not locate him. Perhaps she was at last getting some of that good luck she had surely earned? Perhaps she could make it to the staircase without him noticing her? Pushing through the crowd that had now returned to its chaotic state of din she made her way to the servants staircase by the kitchen, but it was hard going. By the time she got half way there though, she stopped and sighed regrettably. Aislinn hated breaking a promise, and if she planned on staying a while it was best not to make enemies, or at least not to slight a patron. Turning around she heading for the table they had agreed to meet at. Still there was no sign of him, and she hoped he had forgotten...
The girl was pretty, but too stupid to have anything interesting to say. They walked in silence when Coinneach ran out of topics. She didn't try to fill it, instead giving him coquettish looks and smiles. They were slowly but surely wandering from the inn to the woods. The trees weren't situated far from the inn, and no one was around. It helped that people stayed away from the woods unless they had to go to Marn.
Soon they were getting very close and Margretta noticed. "Coin, maybe we should go back," she said. Coinneach had told her a nickname as they had been walking. "My father said not to go near the woods."
He looked at her with a strained smile. "I'm sure he tells you lots of things, my dear, but you should not be afraid of nature," he said.
Margretta shrugged and scrunched her nose. "My father prefers things he can tame, like livestock and grain. But I kind of like wild things, like dandelions. They just sprout up out of nowhere and make things pretty." That was one of the most interesting things she had said all afternoon, so Coin grinned at her and touched her shoulder.
"I'm glad. I feel the same way."
Coinneach glanced at the sun before they entered the shade of trees. It had begun to lower quite a bit. His keen eyes could see the inn relatively well from this distance and he noticed many more people entering. He thought he could hear the high notes of an instrument coming from inside. It must be the flutist he had seen before. He turned to Margretta who was watching him. "Margretta, dear, would you like to meet here later tonight? I have an appointment at this time."
Margretta grinned with excitement and nodded her head. By the time they met here again it would be dark. He was sure she would sneak out; her parents would never allow her to meet a man in the night, so she wouldn't say anything. Margretta was stupid, indeed, but it worked to his advantage. His plans for her were very steadily moving in a sinister direction.
Discarding those thoughts for the moment he took her hand and placed his other over it. "It was a pleasure speaking with you, Margretta. I look forward to seeing you again." She blushed and replied that she felt the same.
When he arrived back the place was packed. 'The whole town must be here,' he thought. He stayed near the door and listened to the haunting melody that the woman was playing and lost himself in it. After what felt like an agonizingly short time, it stopped and he came back to the world with a jolt. He watched through the crowd as she rose and made for the stairway to the rooms. Had she forgotten him? But when she reached it, she seemed to change her mind and head for his old table.
Coinneach smiled grimly and walked to meet her there. When he approached the table he saw her and waved, giving a her small smile.
Soon they were getting very close and Margretta noticed. "Coin, maybe we should go back," she said. Coinneach had told her a nickname as they had been walking. "My father said not to go near the woods."
He looked at her with a strained smile. "I'm sure he tells you lots of things, my dear, but you should not be afraid of nature," he said.
Margretta shrugged and scrunched her nose. "My father prefers things he can tame, like livestock and grain. But I kind of like wild things, like dandelions. They just sprout up out of nowhere and make things pretty." That was one of the most interesting things she had said all afternoon, so Coin grinned at her and touched her shoulder.
"I'm glad. I feel the same way."
Coinneach glanced at the sun before they entered the shade of trees. It had begun to lower quite a bit. His keen eyes could see the inn relatively well from this distance and he noticed many more people entering. He thought he could hear the high notes of an instrument coming from inside. It must be the flutist he had seen before. He turned to Margretta who was watching him. "Margretta, dear, would you like to meet here later tonight? I have an appointment at this time."
Margretta grinned with excitement and nodded her head. By the time they met here again it would be dark. He was sure she would sneak out; her parents would never allow her to meet a man in the night, so she wouldn't say anything. Margretta was stupid, indeed, but it worked to his advantage. His plans for her were very steadily moving in a sinister direction.
Discarding those thoughts for the moment he took her hand and placed his other over it. "It was a pleasure speaking with you, Margretta. I look forward to seeing you again." She blushed and replied that she felt the same.
When he arrived back the place was packed. 'The whole town must be here,' he thought. He stayed near the door and listened to the haunting melody that the woman was playing and lost himself in it. After what felt like an agonizingly short time, it stopped and he came back to the world with a jolt. He watched through the crowd as she rose and made for the stairway to the rooms. Had she forgotten him? But when she reached it, she seemed to change her mind and head for his old table.
Coinneach smiled grimly and walked to meet her there. When he approached the table he saw her and waved, giving a her small smile.
-
Aislinn Vahtees
:|
The tavern was heaving with people, the aroma's of the kitchen's fine cooking and body odours mixing to create a rather off putting smell. The table they had agreed to meet at was not empty for long, but she kept a chair close to her vacant, and accepted the drinks that the maid brought her with a smile. She was parched, and the house brew was actually quite refreshing. The grogginess of her recent nap still hung onto her bones. She knew she had experienced another of those dreams but did not prod her memory for any recollections. She had a foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach and was glad she remembered nothing of the dream. She waited anxiously for him, hoping over and over again that he would pass her by and change his mind.
She was not so lucky, soon he emerged through the crowd and approached the table waving at her and smiling. She returned the wave and the smile and poured him a glass of beer. Raising her voice above the din she said,
''We are well met sir.''
She stood up and curtsied deeply, inclining her head in the fashion of her home country. The smallest of habits were hard to break it seemed. She held out her hand immediately, offering it for a shake and gave him another smile, this one rather weary. The noise level seemed to be rising and she had to almost shout to hear herself even though he was standing close by.
''I hope its not this noisy when I am playing.''
She was not so lucky, soon he emerged through the crowd and approached the table waving at her and smiling. She returned the wave and the smile and poured him a glass of beer. Raising her voice above the din she said,
''We are well met sir.''
She stood up and curtsied deeply, inclining her head in the fashion of her home country. The smallest of habits were hard to break it seemed. She held out her hand immediately, offering it for a shake and gave him another smile, this one rather weary. The noise level seemed to be rising and she had to almost shout to hear herself even though he was standing close by.
''I hope its not this noisy when I am playing.''
-
Blood Ravenous
- Battlemage
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Sun Jun 05, 2005 9:23 pm
- Name: Ryxa
- Race: Human
Coinneach replied, very seriously, "The room is quite silent as you play, my lady." He acknowledged the curtsey with a bow. His tight-lipped smile stayed as he sat down with her. "I can't believe so many people showed up. The whole town must have come to hear you. I had expected us to get my table again," he continued, having to shout but trying to keep his voice conversational. "Maybe we should leave for someplace quiet?"
-
Aislinn Vahtees
...
Aislinn shifted uncomfortably. The tavern was full of people and eyes to watch her. To some women that might seem bothersome and rude, not liking the eyes of the drunkards undressing them; but for a woman alone on the road such as she, a woman with not one to notice if she disappeared or care if she vanished, she could not afford to take such chances. She was about to decline his offer when something exploded in her head. Pain split her head, blood thumped in her temples. She felt like throwing up... after the little light ants had stopped marching across her vision she answered him in a restrained tone.
''I think that a good idea. I am starting to get a headache from all this noise.'' That much was at least true... although she knew very well it wasn't such a good idea.
She started towards the door and did not look to see if he followed. She did need some fresh air as a matter of fact. On her way out she pulled the barkeep aside and said; ''I am going for a walk to clear my head, but if I am not back in an hour for my performance come and fetch me please?'' The old and grizzled man nodded in the affirmative and she left feeling a little more relaxed. Turning to her company she said in a conversational tone; ''I never do keep track of the time... at least this way I can be sure to fulfil my side of the bargain and earn my bed tonight.'' She said it with a smile, trying to ignore the thumping in her head. She knew it was coming, but would do everything in her power to avoid it.
''Shall we take a walk along the stream? I seem to remember it turned into something of a river not too far from here...''
''I think that a good idea. I am starting to get a headache from all this noise.'' That much was at least true... although she knew very well it wasn't such a good idea.
She started towards the door and did not look to see if he followed. She did need some fresh air as a matter of fact. On her way out she pulled the barkeep aside and said; ''I am going for a walk to clear my head, but if I am not back in an hour for my performance come and fetch me please?'' The old and grizzled man nodded in the affirmative and she left feeling a little more relaxed. Turning to her company she said in a conversational tone; ''I never do keep track of the time... at least this way I can be sure to fulfil my side of the bargain and earn my bed tonight.'' She said it with a smile, trying to ignore the thumping in her head. She knew it was coming, but would do everything in her power to avoid it.
''Shall we take a walk along the stream? I seem to remember it turned into something of a river not too far from here...''
Coinneach's brow twitched as he saw his talking-partner freeze up as if in a daze or for some reason he couldn't fathom. She seemed to recover, however, and accepted his offer. So they were on the way, and she turned to him and spoke. He listened to her seriously until she said "river." With that a bright smile lit his face, one that could charm anyone, and agreed enthusiastically. "Yes, indeed it does, m'lady. It would be quite calming to listen to the river as we speak. Let's be on our way."
Not until they were outside and nearing the stream did he realize he had told Margretta that they would meet at night not too far from where he and Aislinn were strolling. It had never occurred to him to kill two people at once because most of the victims were lone travelers. He was liking the idea, but only if Margretta came at the same time would be attempt it. Meanwhile he thought on how it would be like to pull Aislinn into the wonderful water and watch her struggle. It was an alluring fantasy.
He realized he was watching her too eagerly, again, and looked away to the tree-line. While still studying the slowly nearing trees he said, "Are you alright? You seem a bit distressed." It was obvious that she was still haggard but there was a tightness that was new. He couldn't understand why, and figured it might be a good topic for him to listen to.
Not until they were outside and nearing the stream did he realize he had told Margretta that they would meet at night not too far from where he and Aislinn were strolling. It had never occurred to him to kill two people at once because most of the victims were lone travelers. He was liking the idea, but only if Margretta came at the same time would be attempt it. Meanwhile he thought on how it would be like to pull Aislinn into the wonderful water and watch her struggle. It was an alluring fantasy.
He realized he was watching her too eagerly, again, and looked away to the tree-line. While still studying the slowly nearing trees he said, "Are you alright? You seem a bit distressed." It was obvious that she was still haggard but there was a tightness that was new. He couldn't understand why, and figured it might be a good topic for him to listen to.