Rodrick tries to follow the gnome's anatomical logic for a moment, then gives up. "How do you eat a sandwich?" he asks wickedly.
Narrowing his eyes behind his lens-less glasses frames for a moment Vhailor tries to measure if Rodrick is inquiring of earnest interest or puckish intent. Sniffing and raising his nose slightly the gnome replies "Handkerchief."
The half-orc roars with laughter. Before he has composed himself, the schoolmarm Brinya Kelver approaches through the crowd, a preoccupied frown on her face. "Rodrick! Where can I find your brother?"
-------------------------------
Marikel weaves his way through the crowd scattered through and around the amphitheater, keeping his eyes peeled for the school teacher. A guffaw of raucous laughter draws his attention toward Rodrick Grath, and he sees Brinya Kelver approaching the half-orc and exchanging a few words with him.
Marikel diverts towards Brinya and frowns at her frown as she addresses Rodrick.
"Is everything okay? Can I help ma'am?"
Still blustery at utensil-gate, Vhailor refrains from speaking and instead watches attentively.
Kerst sighs and sits down heavily next to Banny as the women gather what pies can be salvaged for further use and distance themselves from the imperturbable dwarf and her broken remnants of pastry, cream, and fruit. "Dad's always getting onto us not to cause trouble with the civilians. Probably in for another dressing down in the Longhouse tonight." He pokes at the rhubarb disconsolately.
Banny smacks Kerst on the back between his shoulderblades in a friendly fashion (inadvertently also leaving a berry smear on his back). "Ahhh, 's a Hopeknife day. Even your da has to uncrank that winch of his once in a while. Just tell 'im it was morale-buildin' for the militia," she says with a pie-stained grin. "An' if that fails, you tell him was all my fault an' my idea."
Banny washes down the last of her currently demolished pie with another deep swallow, smacks herself on the chest, and lets loose a contented belch. The nice thing about living life halfway drunk is that, unlike Kerst, you don't need to worry too much about consequences.
Marikel diverts towards Brinya and frowns at her frown as she addresses Rodrick.
"Is everything okay? Can I help ma'am?"
"Oh... no, Padre," she stammers. "I was just looking for someone."
"Rodrick! Where can I find your brother?"
"Over by the pies," Rodrick hooks his thumb in the indicated direction. "With Banny."
A flicker of displeasure crosses the schoolmistress's face at the mention of the dwarf. "Oh," she says flatly.
"Would you mind if I joined you? And please, call me Marikel. I try not to preach like a Padre, though Banny may say otherwise."
Marikel tilts his head in the direction of the drunkard dwarf, and gives a kindly smile.
Interest in the small talk of pies and ablutionary habits waning and with Roddy confirming that he had an order for at least a single additional maquette - Vhailor casts his eyes around for a spot out of the way where he might take a seat and whittle whilst he whiles away some time.
"Would you mind if I joined you? And please, call me Marikel. I try not to preach like a Padre, though Banny may say otherwise."
There's just a moment of hesitation before she answers. "Of course." She allows Marikel to fall in beside her as they head toward the pie tables at the edge of the amphitheater. "You ... your people should be proud of the job they've done with Ruby. I mean, I won't try to tell you she's brilliantly clever or a prize scholar, but she works hard and her heart's in the right place. In a place like Trunau, that'll take a person farther than just being the shiniest copper in the coin purse."
"Ahhh, 's a Hopeknife day. Even your da has to uncrank that winch of his once in a while. Just tell 'im it was morale-buildin' for the militia," she says with a pie-stained grin. "An' if that fails, you tell him was all my fault an' my idea."
"Not sure that wouldn't make it worse," Kerst replies, with his mournful half-smile. "'Be a leader, son! Not a follower!'" He lowers his voice in an approximation of his gruff father. "'Why aren't you more like your brother? He makes things happen; you watch things happen.'" He takes a bite of pie and chews ruminatively.
There's just a moment of hesitation before she answers. "Of course." She allows Marikel to fall in beside her as they head toward the pie tables at the edge of the amphitheater. "You ... your people should be proud of the job they've done with Ruby. I mean, I won't try to tell you she's brilliantly clever or a prize scholar, but she works hard and her heart's in the right place. In a place like Trunau, that'll take a person farther than just being the shiniest copper in the coin purse."
Marikel smiles warmly at Brinya's words.
"Thank you ma'am. She's a lovely person and will no doubt be a great asset to Trunau... if Trunau will accept her." Marikel glances at Brinya briefly before continuing."I'm not unaware of how... our people are sometimes thought of here and I'm worried some of that ill will is being taken out on Ruby. We try to help, but it's harder if the source of her help is also the source of her troubles. I was wondering if you had any counsel, or could shed some light on what just happened to her in the Hopeknife Ceremony?"
Brinya looks away quickly, trying to hide the blush that covers her cheeks. "I ... I hope you don't think I condone such...."
Marikel looks horrified.
"Of course not. Much of Ruby's progress has been thanks to your strong and fair example. It's you who should be proud of the job you've done with Ruby. I've always admired you... your work, I mean, and just wanted... to know what was going on. And if there was anything I... we could do to help. I'm aware of how important the Hopeknife Ceremony was... is to your people."
Marikel puts his hand over his eyes and gently squeezes his temples.
He sighs.
"We should help each other," he says gently. "For Ruby's sake."
"Not sure that wouldn't make it worse," Kerst replies, with his mournful half-smile. "'Be a leader, son! Not a follower!'" He lowers his voice in an approximation of his gruff father. "'Why aren't you more like your brother? He makes things happen; you watch things happen.'" He takes a bite of pie and chews ruminatively.
Banny shrugs philosophically. "Sometimes watchin's better, I reckon. You watch for a while, you get a sense of what you oughtta make happen. Anyway, if ev'rybody's leadin', nothin' gets done that way neither. Got to have some to lead, some to not."
She claps Kerst roughly on the shoulder after dispensing this bit of inebriated wisdom. "Folk like folk what're like themselves. Your da inclines towards Rodry some, could be, but that don't mean your way ain't true or right. Takes all types of ore, aye?"
Ruby takes advantage of the distraction to slip away with Alicia, after dragging her finger through some stray apple syrup and licking it off. "What should we do now?" she asks happily.
Alicia narrows her eyes in thought as she leads Ruby on a meandering path through the crowd. Eventually, she gives up on finding anything interesting and stops next to the wall of a building, against which are set a couple of crates. The girl leans back, half-sitting on the edge of the crates and turns a bored look on the world.
"The same thing we do every night, Ruby," she says, deadpan.
She blinks in confusion. "Homework?"
"We should help each other," he says gently. "For Ruby's sake."
She smiles wryly. "There's nothing halfway about a Trunau welcome, is there?" she admits. "We can be a bit clannish until a newcomer has proved himself ... but that shouldn't apply to children."
The pair maneuvers around a knot of revelers and can see Banny Kneebreaker and Kerst Grath sitting with several half-eaten pies in front of them. "Banny's been here a shorter time than Ruby has, but she's managed to find a place for herself," Brinya murmurs to Marikel. "Perhaps she might offer some advice."
Alicia blinks slowly at Ruby. "...That sounds so boring," she says. "Maybe we can go throw rocks at that Sawyer girl's house. What's she got against you, anyway?"
"We can be a bit clannish until a newcomer has proved himself ... but that shouldn't apply to children."
Marikel nods. "I agree- it shouldn't apply to children. They do learn from adults though, even if they don't understand."
He walks purposefully beside Brinya, hands behind his back."Banny's been here a shorter time than Ruby has, but she's managed to find a place for herself," Brinya murmurs to Marikel. "Perhaps she might offer some advice."
Marikel frowns and murmurs back, "Finding a place and being accepted aren't quite the same. But I'll ask."
Assuming that he finds an appropriate spot to settle in for some whittling... Vhailor does just that. His cat takes the opportunity to remove itself from it's shoulder perch and begins preening beside the gnome. After an idle petting of Carb, Vhailor takes a few scraps of wire and chunks of wood and gets to work. His face is the picture of concentration... as you expect from a toddler. Tongue stuck out one side of his mouth and brow heavily furrowed as he concentrates.
Alicia blinks slowly at Ruby. "...That sounds so boring," she says. "Maybe we can go throw rocks at that Sawyer girl's house. What's she got against you, anyway?"
Ruby sits on a crate, draws her knees up to her chin, and shrugs gloomily. "I don't know. She doesn't like the mission. She says her parents say Sanctuary is a ... a foothold for Lastwall and that the Council shouldn't let outsiders in. She says it's a travesty that they hand out hopeknives to people who weren't even born here."
The blonde scowls. "Guess she's too young to have tried that stunt with me,[/b]" she says. She leans over and puts an arm around Ruby's shoulder, pulling her into a side-hug. "Don't let her get to you. Most people realize that out here in this wasteland, you need all the help you can find."
"Folk like folk what're like themselves. Your da inclines towards Rodry some, could be, but that don't mean your way ain't true or right. Takes all types of ore, aye?"
"Aye," he replies without any sense of conviction, still pushing broken pieces of pastry around the pan half-heartedly.
As Banny is polishing off her fourth pie, she sees the priest from Sanctuary, Marikel, approaching the table alongside the school teacher, Brinya Kelver. "Kerst," the woman begins, "Patrolman Grath, I've those boxes that need moving down at the schoolhouse that I mentioned to you earlier. Would you have time tonight to carry them for me?"
"Miss Kelver," the half-orc looks up in surprise. "I ... I'm afraid I can't help you this evening. I'm going on duty shortly. I'm sure you could prevail upon anyone else and find them happy to be of service, however. 'Scuse me, Banny." He gets quickly to his feet, nods to the dwarf, and heads back through the crowd.
Consumed in his work, Vhailor begins to hum to himself as he whittles and bends.
"Miss Kelver," the half-orc looks up in surprise. "I ... I'm afraid I can't help you this evening. I'm going on duty shortly. I'm sure you could prevail upon anyone else and find them happy to be of service, however. 'Scuse me, Banny." He gets quickly to his feet, nods to the dwarf, and heads back through the crowd.
"Hmm, that was rude," Marikel announces aloud to Banny and Brinya.
"Ma'am, I'd be only too happy to help at a time and place of your choosing."Marikel looks inquiringly to Banny, but doesn't offer her services.
"I ... there's no hurry," Brinya stammers, forcing a smile. "Thank you for the offer, but I wouldn't want to take you away from the festival. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day? If someone else hasn't taken care of it by that time, I mean." She hastens to excuse herself and disappears off into the crowd.
Banny squints after Kerst's retreating back, her brows slightly knit in bemusement.
"Hmm, that was rude."
The Iomedan isn't winning points with Banny today, it seems. She gives him a sidelong, squinty-eyed look.
"I'd have said unusual," she says shortly. "Kerst's a good man. And my friend."
She gives a half a nod to Brinya as the other woman awkwardly excuses herself. Perhaps if the woman had stuck around, she'd have offered to go do some of that box-lugging herself-- as a rule, Banny doesn't mind helping folk out, that's part of the code of Trunau, even if she is less than a model citizen...
But at the moment, she's not feelin' inclined much to throw in, especially if Marikel's already done so. Iomedae's priest wants to go play saint, let him, in her reckoning. She's got drinkin' to do today, still. And pointedly returns her attention to her tankard.
Marikel sighs and sits down across from Banny.
"There's a lot of unusual things happening tonight. Kerst is a good man and Brinya is a good woman which is why it concerns me that there's some issue between them. Particularly if it's something personal. I don't suppose you know what's troubling your friend? For it seems to be troubling Miss Kelver as well."
"I don't suppose you know what's troubling your friend?"
"Nope," Banny says succinctly, and finishes off what remains in her mug. She sets the empty mug down on the planks of the table, cracks her knuckles absently, and rolls her head side to side on her neck.
"Then again, I tend to mind my own business. I don't go stickin' my nose into things like, say, other people havin' a bit of fun on a Hopeknife day, nor passin' judgment on their stripe of fun, nor callin' folk 'rude' because they've got some kinda tension goin' on with somebody else... but if you're that burnin' to involve yourself in their affairs, I 'magine you can go ask Missus Kelver, or Kerst too."
Marikel nods at Banny's reproach.
"Well, many thanks for helping Ruby in her time of trouble. I called Kerst 'rude' to help ease Miss Kelver's feelings at whatever trouble she's having. If you want I'll go apologise to Kerst."
Marikel rises and looks around.
"If you don't, I'll go and find someone else's fun to ruin."
Marikel waits briefly for a reply before moving on.
Banny arches a brow at Marikel's further words, and settles for a laconic shrug in reply, as if to say she is utterly indifferent to what he might choose to do one way or another.
The Hopeknife celebration is a welcome break in Trunau's normally strict and disciplined routine, but both schools and businesses will be going on as scheduled the next morning so it can't go on all night. The farmers who must be back to their fields in the morning are the first to depart, though most who can rationalize a later start are taking advantage of their siege fee to seize the chance to stay in town tonight.
Cham Larringfass, the halfling proprietress of the Ramblehouse, has appeared to be enjoying herself as much as anyone, but her gimlet eye spies the first revelers to slip away. She immediately rounds up a handful of her staff and sends them back to the inn to be ready to receive guests. After that, it's a slow but steady diminution of the crowd in the Commons, as first parents of young children, then those who have to rise early for their jobs, then the elderly head for home.
Rabus Clarenston is the last to close up shop; the more ale he sells, the fewer heavy kegs he has to roll back down to The Killin' Ground, plus no one expects him to be tending bar before sunrise.
As you're strolling the dark streets, keeping an eye out for anything that might pique your interest, you see Zola's father, Councilor Baseil Sawyer, loitering uncharacteristically in an alleyway. Approaching stealthily, you can see he is exchanging quiet words with a half-orc you don't recognize. The men shake hands, then Baseil, looking around him as if to see if anyone is watching, sets off hurriedly in the direction of his home, while the half-orc slips back down the alley.
"...refused to make their stand with us, they did," he intones indignantly, "and you see what it got them. Trusting in your god is all well and good, but trusting in your neighbor's a better thing by far. All three of them died, and the orcs put their heads on pikes and paraded them around the foot of Bloodmarch Hill. Leastways, until they figured out they weren't going to get in to the rest of us; then they put the heads in their catapults and flung them in at us in spite. Of course, by then, there wasn't much recognizing them. There was three of them, though, and we put them in the pyre with the rest of the fallen. Pious fools they may have been, but cowards they weren't."
"Damned church's been haunted since that day. It was a fool's resolution to put the plague victims in there, but Sawyer was terrified of sickness, rabbity-like. Kept saying if we kept the sick within the walls, the whole town'd be dropping dead at their posts. Poor folk never had a chance when the fire broke out. Word was a lantern fell over, but I say the place is cursed. That was the end of Sawyer's term as Chief Defender; never lived it down, he did. Every time he went out and about, he was always convinced people were whispering about him, saying it was his fault they were dead. They say he fell, but I'll swear he jumped."
"What's that? Aye, I know his damned son's a Councilor! You think I'm scared of him? I wasn't afraid to tell his father what I thought, and he was Chief Defender! He was a good man, for all his faults, better than his mollycoddle of a son."
As you are standing and scanning the crowd for Ruby, Kerst Grath and his father walk by. The Patrol Captain looks stern and disapproving.
"...making trouble again with the ladies," you hear Jagrin reprimanding his son as they pass by. "I've told you before to keep your distance, show some respect. Being raucous and rowdy and destructive, it just reinforces all the stereotypes about ... about soldiers...."
Kerst doesn't protest, keeping his eyes on the ground and absorbing his father's scolding without protest, though you'd swear on the Acts of Iomedae that Kerst hasn't been rowdy or raucous a day in his life. His twin brother, maybe....
But at that point, Tyari reappears, triumphant, with Ruby. She asks you to find Brantos and inform him the lost girl has been found while she takes her back to Sanctuary.
Before he heads off in the general direction he saw Kerst trundling, he gives a wave to Ruby.
"Congratulations, Miss Ruby. Trunau is lucky to have you. Luckier than they know."
Marikel makes his way off to find Brantos, with less enthusiasm and fervour than one might expect.
"Forge and furnace, dyin' of fire like that's a bad end, though," she mutters. "When I go, I want it t'be under the open sky, with my hands around an orc throat-- not trapped in four walls with flames lickin' at me, nor sick an' fevered..."
"As for Sawyer-- damned any which way, don't you reckon, though? He looks like a coward if he sends sick folk out the walls to die-- but if he keeps them in and it spreads in here, he'd'a been blamed for that too. Caught between a devil and a demon," she says with a little shake of her head. It becomes a bit of a crooked grin at Frum's fiery denunciation of the councilor.
"Course you don't care, old-timer like you," she smirks, with a mock-punch to the old other-dwarf's shoulder. "Got so many orc arrow-heads in your skin, you built up a nice fine layer of scars against anything they could throw at you now. You'll still be here drinkin' when the rest of us are ash an' dust, I reckon. Here, I'll get these last barrels in-- but here's to your health, 'fore then. One for the road."
Banny doesn't think much about the heads of Iomedean priests hurled oer the walls. At least, not when she's a few drinks in. Yet another reason to stay that way.
Marikel nods and wanders back with Brantos.
Marikel does not initiate conversation.
"To Ruby Wilder, our newest, and to Trunau, long may she stand," she toasts.
Tyari greets you in the simple common room with a smile and a lit lamp. "I've sent Ruby to bed," she says in a hushed tone. "Have either of you seen Alicia?"
The half-orc you were following is nowhere in sight; he must have gone immediately down a hall or upstairs to a room. That means he isn't newly arrived to town but must have checked in earlier; otherwise he'd still be arranging payment and signing the register.
When they've gone, Banny drags a couple of the chairs together and digs out her comfortable, much-patched bedroll out from its spot behind the bar. She spreads it on the chairs and stretches out, as comfortable on the sparse 'bed' as some might be on a fine mattress. She likes the way the night air comes in through the gaps at the bottom of the canvas 'walls'-- the way the air is always moving, and the way the thinness of the canvas walls makes her feel like she's not trapped.
It's different than the caves of an orc air, or the solid, well-meaning walls of a temple. Nothing's keepin' her here. She's here freely. And with that, she can sleep... peacefully... enough booze in her system to keep any nightmares quiet.