A Chance Encounter

[Althalos]

☿

Thioras - 62nd Searing, 120th of Steel

Altogether, the events that had occurred on his trip to Loras had done a great deal to sap any enjoyment out of the elf before he had even arrived. The journey had felt perfectly inconsequential when he had merely been perusing the idea of travel from atop his cot at home, but the realities of taking the trip independent of any allies had proven to be far more treacherous than he had expected. There had been creatures on the pathway which he had needed to watch for and avoid, and at times the train itself had proven to simply be difficult to follow. While there were cobblestones there was also an undeniable portion of mud and muck.

He'd arrived in the town only a couple of hours past, and had promptly visited the local inn to guarantee that he would be able to fetch a nice room before they had sold out. He didn't have the coin to splurge on one of the fancier and larger rooms, and so he had settled for a room at the Dewdrop Inn which was hardly larger than closet space. Perhaps there was no reason to truly complain, however, because he didn't intend to spend a great deal of time within the confines of the rented space anyway. There were far more important matters to attend to -- after he had managed to clean away the grime and mud and find a place to stow his horse.

Two hours later and he had managed his chores, scraping away at whatever detritus had clung to his garments and flesh and managing to locate a nice stall for his trusty and loaned horse to rest. Perhaps, he considered, he ought to have inquired of its name when he had first taken out the contract for it. Then he would be able to differentiate it from another similar looking beast should the circumstance arise. He could always attempt to give it a new name, but that felt somewhat uncomfortable to him, like giving a hammer or a spoon its own designation.

Shrugging his shoulders and leaving the horse to its hay, Althalos began to walk the streets of Loras. He was dressed in his normal nobleman's coat, having found the garment to be utterly inseparable from his ideal first impressions, and he'd even taken to wearing the shattered signet upon his hand in grim imitation of a proper aristocrat. Primping had taken some time, but he had managed to brush his hair enough that it didn't stick out at all angles, and had even gone through the trouble of flaking the majority of mud off of his boots. A husk of a living man though he might've been, he did give off his own air of amicable pride.

The pale elf had maneuvered easily through the streets of Loras, managing to avoid stepping into the occasional puddle which had formed in the sidewalks, or too far into any alleyways -- he'd already been robbed twice this season, and there was frankly no reason to tempt fate by giving any brigands a third opportunity. In truth, he sincerely doubted that there was much crime at all in the idyllic little township, but he supposed there could be dark secrets concealed beneath the facade of cooperative kinship and friendly faces. They were remote enough, after all, and the small size of the town meant that there couldn't be nearly as much policing taking place as could be found in Alfsos. Perhaps in one of the homes would lie a blood cultist engaging in their ritualistic affairs, or perhaps the ruling family here had taken to utter debauchery and carnality.

Althalos shrugged with acceptance at his own ignorance of the place around him. He still nodded and smiled at anyone who passed him, offering the warm camaraderie that he often tried to demonstrate, and simply made a point not to pry too deeply into any individual's life. He would only be here for a couple of days, and he felt confident that he could avoid any massive trouble in that time span.

Finally, he reached his destination, rapping upon the open doorway of Erma's Herbal Remedies before slipping inside. The room wasn't quite as large as he had imagined, and yet, a glance around the place hadn't revealed the owner of the establishment. The door had been open -- was there a backroom? A cursory glance around revealed none, or at least, none obvious to his eyes. Though he'd intended to come to the store, he suddenly felt the uncanny sensation that he wasn't meant to be here at all.




Credit to Saej!

[Milana]

There was an odd warmth in Milana's chest as she was pushed back in the direction of the Manor. Earlier that morning she had an interesting encounter with a woman named Saej. She was a kind girl, fragile yet strong in a way that the noble could not quite put her finger on. It had been... nice to talk with someone her own age. Someone who didn't want or need something from her, who she wasn't expected to posture in front of. Somehow Milana had not realized she was lacking such interactions in her life up until that point.

"You seem in good spirits." Sarah said from behind where she was pushing the wheelchair. Startled, Milana realized she had been smiling.

"It has been a good outing." she said in response, quickly masking her features. Behind her, Sarah laughed lightly, and despite herself, the noble blushed.

Honestly, she berated herself, am I some little girl who is pleased just to have met someone new? I don't even know her, and she certainly doesn't know me.

Slowly the warm feeling was beginning to fade. The memory of smoke and blood came like a crashing wave that drove out the little spark of happiness that had threatened to settle into Milana's heart. That's right, she wasn't the type that deserved those sorts of feelings. There were too many failures, and lives, on her conscience to allow even a fleeting moment of joy to pass. Closing her eyes Milana could see it again. The teeth and claws, the blood on the storeroom floor, the sounds of ghostly wales as the crimes of monsters were set alight by blue flames. The memories from that day were still fresh wounds that wouldn't heal, and would likely leave deep scars.

Milana looked down at her hands that rested in her lap. Her long, pale fingers clenched themselves into fists, balling up the fabric of her dress as she tried to push down the welling emotions. That was what she was working for, to never let such a thing happen to Loras or her people ever again. The town, thankfully, had recovered quickly from the events earlier in the season. Grimholdt had been quick to send aid, subsidizing the losses Loras suffered to their income at the loss of Westweald and providing extra forces to bolster the guards. The townspeople were still a bit in shock, but they were a hearty folk. It took a lot to shake a person from Loras, and they being sturdy people adapted quickly and continued on as if nothing were different. But still, things were different.

"Have we received word from Kamdin yet?" Milana asked as she raised her eyes to look forward once more.

"Not that I am aware my lady." Sarah said, her tone now somber, "Edwin sent another courier three days ago, but that will make the third one this season."

It was a problem. Kamdin was one of their primary sources of income, and westweald its largest trading company. To say they were insulted by the events in Loras was an understatement at best. Likely Milana would have to pull some strings, and potentially talk to... him.

The noble visibly shivered and wrapped her arms around herself at the thought, but shook her head. If it came to it, she would do what must be done. They were nearing the Manor, passing by Erma's shop on the right with Milana happened to look over. There she noticed a man, suspiciously enough, standing in the open doorway looking about. Frowning she waved a hand at Sarah to stop before calling out, "Excuse me, sir. Do you need something?"

Sarah turned Milana to face Erma's shop, though she made no motion to move them closer. With a pit in her stomach, Milana wishes she had thought to bring Strous with her today. Would Sarah be able to reach a guard in time if something were to happen here? Just in case Milana touched the rune on her chest with her mind, feeling a light tingle raise goosebumps on her flesh as magic flooded her body in preparation.

[Althalos]

☿

The shop seemed to have been stocked to at least a reasonable degree before its owner had made their exodus. Looking throughout the different items that were visible, he tried to determine which would be useful for his purposes, and which ones would only be useful in other less likely circumstances. The issue quickly became apparent when he recognized that he knew very little about any of the items present. While a number of plants and their chemical components had been named, and the words themselves were recognizable, he hadn't a clue what the meaning behind the names truly was, and thus was forced to simply wander.

He'd circled back around to the doorway, hoping that he didn't appear too much like a burglar making his way through the abandoned storefront. Perhaps outing himself in this way was what had allowed someone from Loras' street to notice him. He turned towards the sound, hoping to see an old and miserly woman coming towards him to assist in the purchases he wanted to conduct. His disappointment in her true nature was short-lived, because his corpse eyes immediately found themselves drawn to the peculiar vehicle in which she sat. Fascination at its inner-workings and its production overtook him more suddenly than had been expected, and curiosity drew him out of the store.

"Hello. I'm a traveler from Alfsos, I came to see Erma's." He explained, jutting a thumb back at the building over his shoulder so as to indicate the supposed structure in question. "It looks like it's empty, though. Lot of things on the shelves, but no one to sell them to me." He said, taking sudden notice of the second woman behind the one bound in the chair. They didn't seem to possess much familial similarities, and so he assumed that they were simply friends taking a stroll through the town when they had noticed his uncanny presence where he didn't seem to belong.

Althalos watched as the chair-bound woman brushed a hand across her chest, and became aware of -- something. He couldn't identify the feeling, but it was peculiar and familiar at the same time like he was looking at a hidden aspect through his deathly gaze. He blinked away the unnatural sights, and returned to the more easily understood realm of physical vision. "Would you happen to know when she might be back? I'm fine with waiting, but I don't want to accidentally spend the day here if she'll be gone for a few hours." A glance up at the sky, at the rolling clouds and the gradual decline of the greater luminary brought to mind another issue. "It'll be late before long too. I'm a painter. Don't think it'd be best for me to wander around after dark." He said, allowing his occupation to carry the normal assumptions -- that he was weak and defenseless, prey for anything roaming the shadows.

The Siltori chewed at the edge of his cheek for a moment, returning his gaze to the pair, considering his words carefully before he added, "That is a fantastic looking tool. Whoever created it must have been very wise." A brief point at the chair singled out the device for his compliment. "Are you both locals?" He interrogated after a pause, deciding it would be important to know just how much information he might be able to attain from the pair.

Credit to Saej!

[Milana]

When the man turned Milana got a good look at him. Her eyes swept up and down his frame, taking in his pale skin and fine clothing. His silver air gave Milana pause, though what truly made her stare was the man's eyes. Even as he spoke the look in those eyes was... not quite right. She could put her finger on what it was, but something about this well-dressed man elicited a slight shiver up the spine of the noble.

Behind her, Sarah shifted uncomfortably, leaning down to whisper in Milana's ear, "He's a strange one, my lady. I think we should leave him be..."

Frowning, Milana found she couldn't disagree with the assessment, but despite her misgivings, she waved to Sarah to remain as they were.

"Ms. Erma is away from the shop today. I believe she left a note on the door." this was said, but as she looked past Althalos the woman noted that there was, in fact, no note to be seen. That wasn't unusual. Erma was not the most organized person, and she did often forget little things such as this. The fact that the door was open, as well, wasn't much of a surprise. Loras had a reputation of safety and trust, and many of its citizens did leave their doors unlocked when they knew they would be back before long. Erma, however, seemed to simply forget that her shop held a plethora of herbs and potions that could be both valuable and harmful. It was, for this reason, Milana herself had requested a new padlock be fitted to the door for when the older woman stepped out. That, of course, meant nothing if the door was never locked in the first place.

"She is in the greenhouse today," Milana continued, relaxing ever so slightly in her seat, "I suspect she will not return until late this evening if past experience holds true." She paused for a few moments, chewing her lip before, with a sigh, she said, "We are heading in that direction now. You can accompany us if you wish."

A sharp intake of breath from Sarah was ignored as Milana motioned to the man to follow if he wished. If he did Milana would glance over at him as he approached, ignoring his last two questions to ask a question of her own, "What exactly does a painter need from an herbalist?"

[Althalos]

☿

There was a conspiratorial whisper shared between the two women, and Althalos suddenly questioned whether he had accidentally committed a faux pas even with the brevity of his words. Perhaps worse than a slight social misstep, they had somehow seen through the guise of life with which he adhered. Was it possible that they were akin to the wolf that he had encountered on his journey to Loras, and that as part animals they would be able to detect the corpse-like rot which reeked off of his innards?

He found himself staring at them for a moment, his unnatural eyes gazing at the slight auras that permeated their persons. They didn't seem Rathari to him, but that didn't necessarily mean that they weren't a variant he simply hadn't encountered in the past. He was getting better with frequent practice at recognizing some of the similarities that people carried among them, but even knowing that someone held a similar aura to someone else didn't inherently indicate anything. For all he knew they could have simply eaten the same food recently and that could be what he was picking up from them. At times it was difficult to sort the appropriate information from the false signals of life.

A mention of a note snapped him from his gaze, and he turned aside to look at the doorway discovering the absence of any signpost or documentation. "Afraid not." He said, taking a step back from the doorway to allow the pair to have a better look at the entryway so that they could peruse it at their own leisure. Of course, he would've noticed if there had been a note on the door before he had entered, but the women had no reason to believe that he was perceptive enough for that.

An offer of traveling alongside them was met with a slight smile from the pale elf, and a nod of his head. If he was able to spend more time with them, perhaps he would be able to refine his alternative sight in the process, and it wouldn't hurt to have contacts in the local area for any future escapades. Besides, he had never seen a person in such a peculiar mechanical contraption and he was looking forward to the opportunity of seeing it in use. In a strange way, he recognized it almost as an art of its own, though clearly it had been designed more for functionality.

"I'm Siltori, I'm afraid." He offered as a quasi-answer to her interrogative about why he had sought out Erma, though he recognized that he would need to provide more of an answer than that. "Many of us have different ailments. Some require treatment, and I thought it would be good to learn what goes into the medicines in case I ever need to make my own." He said, hoping that she would accept his falsified reason for visiting. It was true that the Siltori suffered many difficulties at least, and so perhaps his knowledge of the race -- he'd spent time in libraries of late learning about his kind -- would outweigh her own.

"Are you kin to Ms. Erma?" He questioned as he began to follow the pair, keeping a couple of feet distance so as to be as unthreatening about his presence as possible. "I'm not used to these smaller towns where everyone knows each other. I suppose I just assume that you must be related to know where she is." He clarified.

Credit to Saej!

[Milana]

"Siltori..." she said softly, giving Althalos a more generous examination. She did note some features which reminded her of that man, so that much was likely true. Again she noticed his dress, perhaps more fine than one might expect the common traveler to wear. It was as she glanced down at his hands that she noticed the ring on his finger. She said nothing, and instead returned to staring forward, listening more intently now to the words being spoken.

"I am not familiar with the ailments of your people I am afraid. Otherwise I might offer my own thoughts on the matter, Mr...." Milana let the question hang in place until it was answered, continuing on once the name was given. "We are not kin. Like you I seek her out for aid with my condition." an absent motion was made toward her useless legs, though the noble herself did not seem to find the topic uncomfortable, "She brings my remedies to the Manor every so often, and we have grown to know each other quite well because of it. My brother and her get along especially well."

Behind them Sarah hm'd to herself, but Milana paid her no mind. Looking over at the odd man Milana added, "In exchange for her assistance, and some house calls, I have offered Ms. Erma the use of my kinships greenhouse for her own purposes. She grows some of her own medicinal herbs there, and thus has free access whenever she wishes." It was left unspoken, but the implication was that not just everyone was allowed to visit this greenhouse. Those of Loras knew the reasoning behind it, but that place was of special significance to the Terras Kinship, and Milana especially. She was loathe to allow anyone to freely come and go there. Erma, in this case, was the exception not the rule.

"What sort of ailment do you suffer from? We may be able to offer some treatment at my father's clinic, depending on what it is."

[Althalos]

☿

There was a brief moment of examination by his newfound guide, and he questioned whether he had made a mistake by identifying himself as a Siltori. Perhaps she had a negative history with his people and had chosen to believe that he was simply a human or a member of the other races as opposed to one of the pale elves. Several days spent reading through documents had made it clear that not everyone in the world was liable to treat his people well. They had been involved in a number of deeds both positive and negative, and people had a nasty habit of focusing on the latter.

Finally, she spoke, making it evident that she was unfamiliar with the physiological ailments that plagued his people, and he had to prevent himself from smiling as the scheme unfolded. All the better to lie and deceive when others knew nothing about his people. She also indicated a desire to know his name, though he felt confident that he had already shared it, hadn't he? Had he perhaps forgotten that important aspect of conversation in his search for the herbalist? It was possible that he had forgotten -- or that she had not heard him earlier. "Althalos Sil." He offered in compliance.

The nature of the relationship between the young lady and the herbalist was revealed, and further mention was made about the presence of a manor. Recognition began to dawn on the elf as he realized that he was certainly speaking to one of the local nobles. That seemed to explain the craftsmanship of her wheeled mobility tool and the presence of the other woman who was accompanying her. This revelation was only further supported by a discussion of how Erma was given access to her kinship's greenhouse for the sake of growing medicinal herbs.

"That's very generous of you." He said, continuing to follow along in stride.

An unfortunate point of having utilized his 'ailment' to garner favor was that she now seemed inclined to direct him towards a clinic. Her own father apparently operated the facilities, and given that she was certainly noble, that meant he was presumably fairly educated. He might be able to identify the truth of his condition immediately without even much of an examination, and torment and destruction would certainly follow. He needed an ailment that would be incurable by normal standards, something that some herbs here or there might be able to assist, but nothing a doctor would be able to prevent. "Well -- at some point I may want to have children. My people find that prospect rather difficult." He chewed on the edge of his cheek, satisfied with the statement. "I don't know if the herbs would help, but if I can experiment a little here and there, maybe I'll find results." He said. "You own a manor, then? I was unaware that you were of noble birth. I hope you'll forgive my earlier lack of reverence." He spoke, offering a low bow of his head in respect to the woman.

Credit to Saej!