Post by Darian Alistair on Mar 14, 2015 0:58:32 GMT
“Clearly you have not spent much time in an actual palace,” the guard mumbled quietly. He was loath to think there were any similarities between the fine castle he had come to know almost as a sort of home, and the ‘inn’ he had heard so much about. Here, manners and decorum counted for something - he was lead to believe it was quite the opposite at the Rose.
Aodhfin’s comment did not bother the man. He was a loyal soldier before anything else. And if that meant he had little time for stories and songs so be it. From a young age all he had wanted was to be a member of the King’s Guard and no mere bard could make him feel bad for not appreciating the written word. His duty would always be his first and last concern. He choose not to reply to the man’s disappointment, instead opting to see to the task at hand.
As the moved through the winding city streets at a brisk pace, Darian was barely aware of the looks they were attracting. It was strange enough to see a member of the King’s Guard in full uniform walking through the town at this time of night, but even stranger was the company he was keeping. The other man seemed to attract just as many strange looks as Darian himself received. Instantly the man’s curiosity was piqued. He would not have thought a man like this would be the target of so many questioning glances. Could it be that there had been some truth to the man’s boasts of greatness? Surely not. But if not, then why?
Soft babble, and a welcoming orange light spilled out onto the cobblestones as the pair approached the Red Rose Inn. The windows were hazy, giving only a vaguest outline of the patrons inside. Already, the knight felt like turning around and heading back to the castle. He hated these kinds of places. Something about it always made him so uncomfortable. As a young lad in the military he had of course visited establishments such as these with some of the other men, but he always felt strange afterward. There was something about the look in the eyes of the women who worked at places like these – something a little sad. He was sure some of them must enjoy the work, but he had yet to find one. Not that he had been looking of course.
Darian resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the man again. “I hope this won’t take long,” he agreed. What the other man wanted to do after this was all over was his business, so long as there was nothing incriminating in his writings. “The sooner I can leave you to your…evening…the better.”
As they pushed through the door he was surprised by the civility he found within. His expectations of the place had been loud, boisterous, and of course full of drunkards. Although it was loud, he had to admit the place was well under control. He tried not to watch as young, comely women darted back and forth, offering alluring smiles and swinging their hips to and fro. There was no denying the women were beautiful – perhaps one of the reasons the place was so well maintained. The Inn must hardly ever be empty.
Suddenly a pretty young woman bounced over to them. Darian quietly watched the exchange between the woman and Aodhifn uncomfortably and tight lipped. Like many of the other women she was actually very pretty, but the guard had no illusions about why she was really here – she would get no coin from him tonight.
He watched as the woman flounced away again, perhaps his eyes lingering just a moment too long. “She seems…friendly,” he muttered, still slightly embarrassed, though trying not to show his discomfort at the attention. “I’m sure they’re just as nice to every man who steps through those doors,” he grumbled. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was also decked out in the finery of his station. A certain amount of prestige did attract that sort of attention once in a while…though Darian had never…indulged in the services.
The pair moved through the bar and up the stairs, where the sound was mercifully lessened. Rounds of laughter could still be heard echoing up, but at least they could count on not being overheard up here.
He took the proffered papers, eyes quickly scanning the numerous lines of Aodhfin’s writing. Lips moved silently as he read lines to himself. He was a slow reader, and this could take some time. When they had left the dungeon he had almost hoped that Aodhfin’s innocent or guilty nature would jump out from the page within moments, but he knew that wouldn’t be the case. He sighed quietly to himself as he began to flick through the pages. “How long did you say you were you in the north?” he asked, looking up from the words for a moment. To be honest, other than an outright admission of the Scourge, he couldn’t be sure what he should look for. The signs were never consistant.
There were many words and phrases within the writing that was wholly unfamiliar to the man. Hopefully they were not condemning evidence, as he couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might mean. The written word had never been his strong suit – he believed in talking plainly: efficiency was key when writing down orders. There had simply never been time for embellishing language.
After another moment he paused and looked back up at the man, a finger marking his place on the page. “This wolf…” he started slowly, “Where did you see it? Such strange behaviour for a beast like that,” he mused. The knight did not see through the metaphor – a wolf was a wolf in his eyes – but the mannerisms described worried him. “It seems as though it might be ill,” he puzzled. Perhaps the plague was affecting animals now as well. That was the last thing he needed. Sick animals were always cause for concern – especially in dark time such as these.
Aodhfin’s comment did not bother the man. He was a loyal soldier before anything else. And if that meant he had little time for stories and songs so be it. From a young age all he had wanted was to be a member of the King’s Guard and no mere bard could make him feel bad for not appreciating the written word. His duty would always be his first and last concern. He choose not to reply to the man’s disappointment, instead opting to see to the task at hand.
As the moved through the winding city streets at a brisk pace, Darian was barely aware of the looks they were attracting. It was strange enough to see a member of the King’s Guard in full uniform walking through the town at this time of night, but even stranger was the company he was keeping. The other man seemed to attract just as many strange looks as Darian himself received. Instantly the man’s curiosity was piqued. He would not have thought a man like this would be the target of so many questioning glances. Could it be that there had been some truth to the man’s boasts of greatness? Surely not. But if not, then why?
Soft babble, and a welcoming orange light spilled out onto the cobblestones as the pair approached the Red Rose Inn. The windows were hazy, giving only a vaguest outline of the patrons inside. Already, the knight felt like turning around and heading back to the castle. He hated these kinds of places. Something about it always made him so uncomfortable. As a young lad in the military he had of course visited establishments such as these with some of the other men, but he always felt strange afterward. There was something about the look in the eyes of the women who worked at places like these – something a little sad. He was sure some of them must enjoy the work, but he had yet to find one. Not that he had been looking of course.
Darian resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the man again. “I hope this won’t take long,” he agreed. What the other man wanted to do after this was all over was his business, so long as there was nothing incriminating in his writings. “The sooner I can leave you to your…evening…the better.”
As they pushed through the door he was surprised by the civility he found within. His expectations of the place had been loud, boisterous, and of course full of drunkards. Although it was loud, he had to admit the place was well under control. He tried not to watch as young, comely women darted back and forth, offering alluring smiles and swinging their hips to and fro. There was no denying the women were beautiful – perhaps one of the reasons the place was so well maintained. The Inn must hardly ever be empty.
Suddenly a pretty young woman bounced over to them. Darian quietly watched the exchange between the woman and Aodhifn uncomfortably and tight lipped. Like many of the other women she was actually very pretty, but the guard had no illusions about why she was really here – she would get no coin from him tonight.
He watched as the woman flounced away again, perhaps his eyes lingering just a moment too long. “She seems…friendly,” he muttered, still slightly embarrassed, though trying not to show his discomfort at the attention. “I’m sure they’re just as nice to every man who steps through those doors,” he grumbled. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was also decked out in the finery of his station. A certain amount of prestige did attract that sort of attention once in a while…though Darian had never…indulged in the services.
The pair moved through the bar and up the stairs, where the sound was mercifully lessened. Rounds of laughter could still be heard echoing up, but at least they could count on not being overheard up here.
He took the proffered papers, eyes quickly scanning the numerous lines of Aodhfin’s writing. Lips moved silently as he read lines to himself. He was a slow reader, and this could take some time. When they had left the dungeon he had almost hoped that Aodhfin’s innocent or guilty nature would jump out from the page within moments, but he knew that wouldn’t be the case. He sighed quietly to himself as he began to flick through the pages. “How long did you say you were you in the north?” he asked, looking up from the words for a moment. To be honest, other than an outright admission of the Scourge, he couldn’t be sure what he should look for. The signs were never consistant.
There were many words and phrases within the writing that was wholly unfamiliar to the man. Hopefully they were not condemning evidence, as he couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might mean. The written word had never been his strong suit – he believed in talking plainly: efficiency was key when writing down orders. There had simply never been time for embellishing language.
After another moment he paused and looked back up at the man, a finger marking his place on the page. “This wolf…” he started slowly, “Where did you see it? Such strange behaviour for a beast like that,” he mused. The knight did not see through the metaphor – a wolf was a wolf in his eyes – but the mannerisms described worried him. “It seems as though it might be ill,” he puzzled. Perhaps the plague was affecting animals now as well. That was the last thing he needed. Sick animals were always cause for concern – especially in dark time such as these.