Stirring up trouble - Jygust 30th TT - Open

[Guido Cercatoro]

With Ulder and Brytan content to observe, Torc began his weave. The chasm was wide but the beavers slowly and surely spanned the gap with their dam. The mage felt a significant draining of his energy but he was still strong enough to continue. With the dam finally in place, he diverted his attention to healing the wound with a web formed from the living roots of his tree. Again, the effort was considerable but not insurmountable and he could sense the severed skin and flesh begin to knit around the wound.

The chasm was blocked; the flow of the river stemmed and the web of roots had bound the wound. Torc sensed that the injured man would live but he needed to rest for a good while to recover his energy – as did the mage, for he felt tired, his mouth parched.

There were a good few gasps and quiet, uneasy mutterings in the tavern as the mage attended to the wounded man.

[Torc Blackfoot]

Slowly Torc released himself from the aether, he was tired and a little queasy. I am doing too much, before the show tonight! I need to go back to camp and rest up before these evening, perform a little mediation so that my mind is in the right place to entertain. Then he began to hear the whispers and mutterings. He needed set the minds of the tavern back at ease. He glanced over to Rosie and then the Barkeep.

Torc made grand gestures with his hands, “Thank you all, if this trick of light and dyed water amuses you; please step by my booth for a tale not seen or heard in many of an age. I will be performing base illusions to spin a tale of wonder, but do not think it is a comedy! For my tale holds battles and a tale of two brothers growing into manhood! Now please clap for my assistant, for the man on the ground is nothing more than drunk and simply needs rest and water.” The last he directed to Rosie, knowing the Madam to be more then discreet.

Torc, brought his hand down to Brytan and waved him to stand. Torc held a forced smile on his face. He bent down as if to help Brytan stand, quietly through this teeth, Torc whispered. “Your man is safe. Just play along. The people don’t need to know what happened here. I will be in a booth if you require answers.” Torc waited wondering if the man he didn’t know would accept the false hood and keep this quiet.

[Brytan]

Brytan watched Torc do whatever it was he was doing. Frankly he couldn't tell what was going on, other than the fact that Sands seemed to breathe easier as the mage finished. When the strange man got up and started his proclamation, Brytan knew instantly he was covering his tracks. His own, and those of Sands. He made it seem like this was some kind of show, which, with the Festival coming up, would likely make sense to people. He knew for a fact though that Torc at least estimated the value of his actions, actions Brytan felt obliged to repay.

Brytan got up with Torc's help, nodded quietly, turned to the crowd, also forcing a smile to his face and making a deep and thoroughly exaggerated bow. He then looked at Sands, who was still on the floor, then briefly at Ulder. "I'll clean up here. You sir, if you could give me a quick hand. And once again thank you for your swift assistance. We love it when our crowd participates." He started hoisting Sands up carefully, knowing full well that he was still injured most likely. Next order of business was getting him to the barracks through the back passage where he could receive care and be debriefed. He hoped Ulder would pick up on the hint so he could exchange a few words with him while they lugged Sands out into the alleyways behind the tavern.

[Ulder]

There was some measure of surprise in Ulder at seeing the little performance play out in front of him. This person had come to assist with an injured man, and yet claimed it was all an illusion and it was part of a show. It didn't make much sense. If Brytan and his man were scouts for Michel, posing as locals, then why were they performing such strange shows? Wouldn't that put them more in the public eye, instead of blending them in with the population?

All in all, it was a strange scene, but Ulder said nothing. If it was a show, he would continue on playing the part of an unknowing fool in the production. If it were not, then there would be nothing to gain by calling attention to it. Discrepancies were what caused people to question things.

Then it dawned on him. What happened was probably very, very real. Elaine had the power to heal, why not this man? Pax was a Church occupied town. Displays of magic or healing would likely be seen as offenses against God, and in an occupied town, that was dangerous, and potentially fatal. It was a cover up, and a fairly clever one as well. He went along with it, and feigned ignorance.

"Uh... sure." Was all he said as he scooped up Sand's legs, and helped carry the man wherever it was that Brytan wished to take him.

[Brytan]

Brytan picked up Sands by the arms, near his chest and lifted the man up slowly. Since they were near the front door, he decided to leave through that and then turn towards the barracks the first chance he got, by way of the alleys as opposed to the main road. He figured if they were stopped by a guard that...well...it'd be one of his guys. So no harm no fowl. He didn't want to be seen by too many people as going into the barracks, aside from that he wished to talk to Ulder. But that could wait until they were inside.

"Make way, make way! Drunk man coming through!" He made light of the situation, staying in character until they were out of sight and earshot of the inn. He turned once more to Torc before disappearing entirely. "Catch you at the festival, friend."

[Torc Blackfoot]

Torc bowed briefly to the unknown guardian. “Aye, it should be a good show, friend.” Torc made his way to a booth. He was tried, but could use a drink. Besides, Rosie always had questions and suggestions on how he could lose a few more coins from his purse. As Torc sat down he briefly ran his hands over the table feeling the polished wood grain. It helped to suppress the feeling of loneness. Even with those that he healed he wasn’t really connected to them. No, in his brief time here he kept wondering where did he fit in? The question or prayer came to his mind once again… Where is my place in this world? Please, One, tell me! Please!

Torc waited either for an answer to his prayer or an ale. One or the other was bound to happen.

[Ulder]

Silent as a post, Ulder continued to carry Brytan's man to whatever safe location the spy had in mind.

His thoughts ran in circles of what he had just seen. Elaine had a similar power, and had exhibited it several times in his presence. Nowe here was an Adhiel stranger who could do it as well or better, and the erstwhile captain pondered over introducing his wife to the Adhiel. Perhaps they could assist in not only the liberation effort of Pax, but end a great many of the ailments of the frontier town of Pax Balthasar.

He made a mental note to seek the healer out once Brytan felt secure in the wounded man's recovery, and they could discuss what was about to happen.

[Guido Cercatoro]

Torc’s proclamation that his healing had been merely a show was quickly backed up by Brytan and helped to quell much of the muttering in the tavern. A high proportion of those present were from out of town and had no knowledge of the hedge-mage. Thus, they took the offered explanation at face value. However, many of the locals knew that Torc was reputed to be a mage. The rumours also inferred that it was he who had saved the town from the Grey Robes and hence they regarded him with grudging respect, even if they were generally distrustful of those with magic powers. All in all, most preferred to accept what had been said and get back to their ale and plans for the festivities.

Brytan and Ulder had no problem in taking the recovering Sands out of the tavern and making their way to the Barracks. As they emerged from a dark alleyway just a little way down the street from the entrance to the barracks, they saw that the three guards who were stationed outside the front entrance were engaged in an animated conversation with an elegantly dressed man dressed in a long brown coat who was gesticulating towards another alley a little way up the street.

Torc received no answer to his prayer but it was only a few flickers before Rosie arrived with an ale. The barmaid greeted the mage with a broad smile. “Don’t look so down in the dumps. Yer getting to be a regular at saving people,” she grinned. “Melissa says that this is on the house. Oh, and she’d like to have a word with you in a little while, if you don’t mind.”

The blond woman waited for Torc’s answer.

[Torc Blackfoot]

Torc looked up at Rosie and placed a pleasant smile on his face. “What can I say Rosie, saving one life is never enough, there is always another person to safe. Now, if only ale did the same thing. Why I could drink and drink until my head was so sore and my belly so round that I would like some bloated pig at the trough!” It had meant to be funny. Yet Torc still didn’t feel like being cheerful.

What had fame given Torc? What had saving people and slaving away at trying to make life for other refugees done? Once a long time ago he had meant face to face with the Oracle of the Gibbets. During their brief conversation he had told Torc that he would have been a horrible farmer, and that was probably the truth. However, Torc wondered if his calling wasn’t a farmer but a husband and father. He remembered a vision of him in a small cottage with a wife, two sons and a newborn girl. The longing in his heart almost made him insane at times.

Turning back to Rosie, Torc spoke, “If Melissa doesn’t mind me drinking while she speaks, I always enjoy good conversation and she is certainly welcome at the table. If she wants some where more private, then I can try to finish my ale and talk to her afterwards.” Torc then took a sip of his ale, allowing the brew time to work its subtle taste down his throat. Torc thought it would be almost incredible better if it was cold, and started to think of a weave that might do just that.

[Guido Cercatoro]

The ale proved to be pleasant if a little warm but Torc had only taken a few sips when the red-haired Melissa arrived at his table. With a smile, she took a seat next to the mage, yet there was a troubled look in her eyes.

“I am need of some assistance,” she began falteringly. “I hoped…given your….you might help me.” The smile was now much weaker and she gulped as she spoke.

“When I was very young, I….had a child.” Her eyes drifted down to look at the table. “It was taken away from me, to cover up the scandal. And now someone claims to know the whereabouts of this child and will reveal the information in return for a considerable payment.”

“I need to know whether this in true or not. Yet, my resources are low at present. I…wondered if you…with your powers, might be able to ascertain the truth or otherwise of this person’s claims before I part with money I can ill afford. I can pay you in kind – food, ale and any other services you may require.” There was a heartfelt look in her eyes as she raised them to look at the mage.

[Torc Blackfoot]

Torc slowly sipped his ale, as Melissa sat down he nodded. He could see that she was in distress and overly emotional. As the tale continued, Torc wondered if his own mother felt this way. Did she care that Torc had been raised in a small village by a drunkard. Was she even alive to wonder? Then Torc thought about his own feelings in the matter. How many sunny days working in the fields had Torc wondered who was his mother. How many times when he was forced to put his father away drunk did he wish his mother was some Taquar queen? How many times when the local priest told Torc that was the combination of evil from both races, had he wanted to mother to hold?

Yet, a lot of things told Torc not to take the offer. It wasn’t because he couldn’t feel for Melissa, but what if it was found that her child was in a labor camp. Torc had heard about child labor in the Seams. Would Melissa want to know? And even if she knew would that change the situation? What if the child was happy? What if the child had become deformed? What if the child was kidnapped and this man was blackmailing the both of them?

“Melissa, I want to make sure you understand what you are asking. Lets say I have the powers to do what you ask, what if the child was located in some labor camp? What if the child has been hurt or died? What if the child is happy without you? I don’t say this to alarm or hurt you, but I want you ready for whatever fate the child has been dealt.”

“Now with that said, I don’t want any money, nor… any other services.” Torc strained against the last part, he wanted to be with a woman badly, but being still a virgin he didn’t want it like this. He didn’t want his first time to be like some trade bartered and haggled over. “I have my own reasons for helping you. However, assuming that it has been a few yarhens, I will need a few drops of your blood to establish the living link between you and your child. If you have just recently given the baby up, then any thing that the baby had and played with I could have used.”

“Now Melissa I need you to be honest, if I go looking for your child there shouldn’t be any magickal protections against scrying on him or her? I ask this because if your child is of noble birth they might have employed a mage of their own. I can think of a few ways to tattoo a child against scrying.” He also thought of an effective curse as well, but he didn’t want to scare the poor woman.

[Guido Cercatoro]

The redhead responded with a weak smile. “I need to know about my child, whatever circumstances she is in. To be honest, I still feel a mother’s guilt…” A small tear dropped from the corner of her eye.

“You are very kind,” she continued. “You may have my blood or whatever else you need but I have nothing that belongs to the child. She was taken away soon after she was born. I have no knowledge of any magical protection put on the child, although the…father…would have had the resources to do so should he wish to. The child would be twelve yahren old, for I was only thirteen when she was born…”

[Torc Blackfoot]

Torc looked at the red hair Melissa for a moment a feeling of lust came over him. It was easy to accept favors, even sexual ones, for his services. Yet in the end what would he become? He had seen his father lose himself in drink night after night till it became him. Power, sex, drink, food, even knowledge could become an obsession.

I don’t want to be my father, I want a wife and child, and I don’t want to tarnish those things. Torc shook his head as if to almost lose the shadow of his father. “Well Melissa, I wasn’t excepting you to have a child quite that old. Obviously, men now would throw themselves on spears for your charms, but I can’t imagine what it must have been like. The women in my village would have prevented such a congress from happening till someone was at least 15 yarhen, and then only if dowry had been sealed. By the filth of the Scillius, I didn’t have my first kiss till I was 28 yarhen! Granted due to my mother I will live for maybe 200 to 250 yarhen, but still!”

All of sudden Torc such his mouth realizing that this probably was very embarrassing for Melissa. “Sorry for that. Let’s just when the priest beat me for my sins, he also beat all my manners out of me. Well, let’s assume that the father didn’t want to be traced to the child, so most warding will be on that level. Let’s also assume that if he has that kind of resources then he would send the child away to a village, priesthood, something where there wouldn’t be gross wards set against divination. If that is true then I should be able to find the child. If not then I am more than willing to you if this man speaks the truth. However, I will only know if he speaks true or ill, not his thoughts. Would tomorrow morn be to early for use to try and find your child?”

[Guido Cercatoro]

"Tomorrow would be fine," replied Melissa. "I will be here in the bar from the first hour of dawn." She leant over and gave Torc a peck on the cheek before rising to leave.

"You are a good man, mage. I can see it is your eyes and I have looked into the eyes of many men." With a quick smile, she left the mage on his own.

[Torc Blackfoot]

Torc blushed from the tip of his ears down to his cheeks. He felt the fool for being so impressionable with women, but in the end he supposed that he would never feel comfortable without being married. There again, Torc had become a mage in order to have power and importance, but without family what did those things matter? Yet, wasn’t it his own fear for not scrying for his mother. Torc took care of the orphaned children from the World’s Mouth because he loved children, and yet he had none of his own.

Torc was certain that he wanted a woman, ‘cause every rush of heat when a pretty woman walked by, but it was by his choice to be celibate. Melissa was proof that not all women were afraid of mages, but then again she needed something from him. As Torc took another sip of his warm ale he realized that the solution to his problem. Perhaps a rune of Frost inscribed on the mug or on a barrel, would constantly keep the contents cold.

Being distracted in the ways of magick and possibility of making a little bit of money Torc began to devise a way to keep beer cold in on the hottest of summer days. Drinking his ale and then moving back to his tent to rest up for the festival.

(Fin?)

[Guido Cercatoro]

(OOC: fin and locked for skilling)