Completed Aftermath of Violence (Caspian)

[Shiress]

"He’ll never go through the hell we did."

What better vow could a mother ever wish for their child than one that will see that they fair better in life?

Shiress wasn't sure if by 'we' Caspian referred to him and his sister or him and Shiress, but it really didn't matter. The part of Caspian's history that Shiress was privy to was improvement enough. Tavy's could not have been much better. In fact...Shiress's scrutinizing gaze slid from Caspian to his sister, who had yet to say anything. She didn't know Taalviel all that well, but since arriving in Zeltiva together, Shiress has come to realize that the siblings were attached at the hip no less than most twins were. Where Caspian goes, Taalviel was sure to follow. Or, perhaps, vice versa.

Over the past few seasons of knowing Taalviel, Shiress has occasionally tried to befriend the beautiful, dark-haired raven. But, whether she just wasn't the friending type or the Kelvic just really didn't like Shiress, the attempts had failed. Utterly. Still, something in Shiress craved the other woman's approval, trust even, if not friendship.

"I could have offered the money to my parents." she said succinctly "They've opened their home to me, to us, having never asked for a copper in return, nor complained once." Shiress paused, letting the truth of that statement sink in before continuing, "But I-"

But she...what?

When it came to her parents, the truth was that Shiress didn't trust them, not wholly. Not with lingering unanswered questions of why the spontaneous trip to Sunberth, why slavers attacked her and Zane, or why they never looked for her. For all intense and purposes, it seemed as if Lorna and Zachiah Underhill had settled back into their cozy little existence in Zeltiva without a second thought of their missing twins. The thought unsettled Shiress, but now wasn't the time, nor the place, to unwrap that package of trauma.

Instead, Shiress realigned her thoughts and addressed Taalviel again.

"I trust Caspian, you, because you both know the ache of a hungry belly and the bone-deep cold that overcomes you while helplessly foraging the city for food in winter. You've known violence that wakes you in the night, and the guilt of sacrificing another just to survive." Shiress's eyes filled with tears, " I know all those things, too. I've never known any different, even now." a sad smile stretched slowly across Shiress's pale lips, "I don't want that for my son, not ever, and having gone through the things that you and your brother have, I know neither of you will want to return to it if given a chance for something better." she drew in a deep, unsteady breath, "I know you don't really know me, but I just want you - shyke.."

Shiress's mouth snapped closed, cutting off the rest of her words. Was she about to tell Taalviel that all she wanted was for her to, what, trust her? Be her friend? After what she had just shared? Shiress had no right to ask neither one of them for anything. She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, grimacing.

Muddled thoughts were hard to sift through at the best of times.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, then repeated louder, "I'm sorry, forget what I said, I just...I don't know what I'm saying." she sighed heavily, thoughts returning to the earlier conversation "Cas, sober or not, clear-headed or not, nothing about my decision will change, " she gestured to the paper Caspian still held, "not if the circumstance of how I came about that can."

Without another word, Shiress pulled back the blanket, threw her legs over the side of the bed, and managed to stand on the second attempt, going completely still until the world around her stopped spinning. Swallowing down the bile that washed across her back teeth, Shiress went for a pile of clothes folded neatly on a table by the bed, assuming they were meant for her. Unceremoniously Shiress stripped the torn and stained shift from her body, shamelessly putting the tapestry of scars that littered her body's canvas on display, and pulled the fitted pants up her legs and the loose tunic over her shoulders.

Shiress staggard the few steps to close the distance between her and Caspian, pausing to cup the man's cheeks and pull him down low enough so she could press her forehead to his, hoping the gesture said more than she had the right mind to say herself. She stayed that way for a time, just breathing in the scent of her friend, then kissed his cheek and grabbed his hand.

"Come on." she said, pulling him toward the door, "Lets end this."

[Caspian]

x

In truth, Taalviel has said very little about Shiress. From the moment so many seasons past in Ravok when Caspian and Shiress had reunited, Caspian spending afternoons lazing around Caldera Manor, and even through the arduous journey it took to get to Zeltiva, she’s made very little actual comment. There might have been an eyebrow raise back in Ravok, a terse imperative for him to confirm where it was he’d been, in her eyes, wasting time that might have been spent working instead – but about Shiress specifically, Taalviel has offered very little outward opinion.

Counterintuitively to some, that’s actually rather a good sign, indicating that on the whole Taalviel has not, in her endless pragmatic calculations, found something worth criticizing out loud.

With that same reticence, that paved over mask of mollification, she listens to Shiress’ supplications. Tilts her head ever so slightly in acceptance of her words.

To Taalviel, it doesn’t matter so much, Shiress’ reasons for giving them the money – the weak link here is Caspian, afflicted still with the amorphous urge to do the right thing, a frustratingly flexible and elusive concept that Taalviel has spent a decade and a half trying to convince him is pointless self-sabotage.

“Flutter, wait – “ Caspian says, alarmed when Shiress suddenly rises to her feet. And the way she holds him – as if everything that had come between them isn't as immutable as he fears. As if, maybe – there’s a sliver of a chance she forgives him.

He didn’t know that forgiveness was something he might care to want until now.

“Okay,” he says, seeing that Shiress is stopping for no one. “Okay, maybe we should tell Teeva that –“ He trails off, glances back at the stairs Teeva had taken. It doesn’t matter, saying goodbye. And if he wants to say thank you in the morning, he knows where to find her.

There’s a wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He drops Shiress’ hand just to rummage through it, coming up with a dark, earthy-colored knit shawl. By force of habit he rearranges the other shawls and throws in the chest so that it isn’t too obvious he’d gone poking through, that anything is missing. He wraps the shawl around Shiress’ shoulders. Teeva had given them blankets, but they’re too bulky to go out walking in, their weight meant for lying strictly in bed. If Teeva notices – maybe it’s taking advantage of a good deal of good will, but he’s past caring.

“You going to give that back?” Taalviel asks as they exit into the alley.

“Only if you give back that shiny bit you stole from the knitting basket,” he replies easily.

She snorts, the glint of the golden braid slipping into her pocket.

The way to the Dovecote seems much longer than he remembers, an arduous journey in the dark, the air nipping at their noses with the chill of early spring. Every so often they see one of the Wave Guard on their regular patrols. And it’s instinct that has Caspian flinching, almost suggesting that they take back alleys, keep out of sight – but contrary to their usual fare they’re not, for once, doing something illegal, a fact he has to remind himself of more than once.

He doesn’t know if Taalviel’s ever been through the Dovecote before. She takes the fact of its mysterious machination in stride, and together the three of them emerge into the sands of Xyna.

x

[Shiress]

By the time the trio had stepped from the Dovecote and into the Outpost, Shiress was more leaning on Caspian than guiding the poor man. She had been a bit more optimistic about the trip before leaving the healer's home; now, she wondered how on Mizahar she'd make it back to Zeltiva still standing.

The Outpost, however, was still bustling with visitors, and it struck Shiress for the first time since coming to the Outpost that the time there was not the same as Zeltiva, but she'd revisit the thought later when she had the capacity to comprehend it. Anything.

Peeling herself from Caspian's side, she glanced around the immediate area of the Dovecote.

"She said the lender was near the entrance." Shiress all but mumbled, exhaustion coming through loud and clear in her voice. "There, maybe?" She pointed to a sign hanging over a door, depicting various coins from around Mizahar with the word "lender" etched across the top. "That has to be it."

Leading the way, Shiress crossed the walkway right in front of a man and woman holding hands, who had to abruptly release each other as Shiress barged right between them without a word. Shiress was focused on the task at hand and completing it while she still had the ability to stand.

A bell rang out as the door swung open, heralding their arrival. The area inside was surprisingly small. Two lone chairs sat on either side of the door they had entered through, facing a mostly bare wall. In the very middle of the wall, a small arched window had been cut out and was currently covered by what looked like a plank of wood. Shiress was about to turn to the siblings and explain that, perhaps, she had been wrong when the wood covering the window suddenly slid away, revealing a portly, sweat-dotted bald head. The man seemed completely hairless, save for a patch of beard covering his chin.

The man blinked dark eyes at Shiress, waiting.

Shiress blinked right back, not saying a thing.

Finally, she realized he was waiting on her.

"Oh!" she squeaked, turning and holding out her hand for the paper from Caspian.

With paper in hand, Shiress approached the window.

"I've come to collect this."

Shiress offered the paper forward and, after a brief hesitation, the man took it and began to read. The closer the man got to the bottom of the notice, the lower his brows crept until finally he scowled and lifted his eyes.

"Fill this out." he growled, slapping another paper in front of Shiress before he disappeared and the wood slid back in place.

Maybe that was just the way his voice sounded, but it made Shiress jump nonetheless.

The paper was simple, just questions alongside empty lines for the answer.

Name

Place of work

Place of origination outside the Outpost

Amount expected

amount received

Currency requested

It was all easily answered enough...had he left Shiress something to write with. She was about to turn and ask if Cas or Taalviel had anything she could use when the wood slid away again, and a hairy pudgy hand smacked a cole pencil against the countertop, and the wood slid back into place. Shiress stared as the pencil rolled ominously toward the edge before she plucked it up, eyebrows arching toward her hairline. Shiress shook her head, swayed dangerously, and decided to sit and fill the paper out, bypassing her companions to all but collapse into one of the chairs.

By the time Shiress had filled out the paper, a hidden door had swung in from the wall, and the man from the window appeared, breathing heavily and with a lot more sweat on his bald head. He eyed first Taalviel, then Caspian before his gaze finally settled on Shiress, hand held out for the paper, and she silently handed it over. He scanned it briefly and grunted.

"Figured you'd be wanting mizas," he said, then lifted his gaze with another run through of each of them in turn. "Will ya be wanting a guard to escort ya home?"

"No." Shiress replied before really thinking about it.

The lender huffed out a sigh, looking thoughtful, then turned and disappeared through the mystery door. Within a few heartbeats, he returned, pulling a four-wheeled small cart by a metal handle. Inside the cart sat three bulging burlap sacks. He parked the cart in front of Shiress and pulled open the top of each bag for her inspection. Shiress swallowed at the sight of so much gold.

"Each bag contains a thousand gold, count it if ya want to." he explained.

"No" Shiress cleared the lump from her throat, trying not to think about what this coin bought. "That won't be necessary."

The man shook his head, grunted again, and disappeared back through the door. He was gone for just a breath before he emerged with a large piece of burlap, much like the bags, and an armful of....corn? The corn cobs were still covered in their wide, silky husks as if he had just harvested them from the garden out the back door. He closed each of the money bags, covered them with the piece of burlap, then laid out the corn on top.

"Best security I can give ya, without a guard." he said "Sign here."

He leaned over the cart and placed yet another paper on top of the corn and pointed a dirty finger to the line for Shiress's signature, and she scribbled something that might have been her name. Plucking his pencil from her trembling fingers, the lender left, pulling the hidden door closed with a final click, leaving Shiress, Caspian, and Taalviel in the room alone with 3,000 gold coins.

The more Shiress stared at the covered cart, the more upset she got, the more her body began to shake as memories assailed her. The sound of bones breaking, blood squelching, the muffled sound of Madeira's gasps beneath the palm of her hand.

Shiress vacated the chair in a rush, having to catch herself on the cart to keep from going down, and stumbled from the moneylender's lobby and out onto the walkway, hand covering her mouth and the sobs trying to escape as desperately as she was trying to.

[Caspian]

x

After all the events that had come to pass that brought them here, the lender’s office is –

Quaint. Small.

Resolutely devoid of drama.

Caspian and Taalviel have flung themselves out of the frying pan and into the fire more times than they can count. But the comparative stillness here, its quotidian closeted composure, feels, at least to Caspian, like the most jarring thing he’s experienced in a long time.

He had just expected they’d have to fight for the money is all – he’d braced himself for combat, a dance, at the very least a riddle from the bald man. He’s spent allegorical pounds of flesh getting his hands on far less. But nothing comes save for paperwork.

The siblings give each other A Look as Shiress fills out the paperwork. Taalviel’s standing with her arms crossed, eyes boring into the man. Watching and waiting, just like Caspian, for this all to be a trick, for the building itself to go up in flames. Because it shouldn’t be that straightforward; when are things this easy?

Except when they are.

When Shiress flees the room, Taalviel watches her with the same alert but immutable composure she’d worn in Teeva’s basement. “So some woman did pay her to toss her around.”

“Did you think Shiress was lying?” Caspian replies, his eyes taking a long beat to unstick themselves from the cart of more money than he’s ever seen at once in his life.

“Don’t get so worked up. It was always possible that given not being in her right mind, she might have earnestly gotten something wrong."

“Fine, fair enough,” Caspian replies. “Stay here.” He darts out of the lobby and onto the walkway after Shiress. “Hey. Flutter! What’s wrong?” He catches up with her easily; she hadn’t stumbled very far. “Everything – it went to plan, didn’t it? Come on, how often does that happen?” He’s trying to be jovial, doing his best to keep it light, because they’re far from home and some people are staring and given the enormous sum now in their possession, the less attention they can attract, the better. A blanket of corn cobs can only do so much. “Flutter –“ Against his better judgment – because this whole thing, it’s better than when they weren’t talking at all, but he’s more than dimly and rather grimly aware that this doesn’t just fix the rift he’d had a hand in creating between them – he catches her by the wrist, gently pulls her into his arms. “Please, Flutter. We’re so close to this being done. Think about Ian, okay? Let’s hold our shyke together until we get back to the cottage. And then you can cry up a petching storm.”

He fishes into his pocket for one of his gold-trimmed handkerchiefs. He – hasn’t looked at it lately. It’s something he’d gotten in Ravok, when things were looser and lighter and freer. It’s almost too much for somewhere like Zeltiva, but they aren’t in Zeltiva now, are they? They’re in Xyna, and Xyna’s will shines just as bright. “Here,” he says, stepping back and handing it to her.

The door to the lender’s shop opens, a bell tinkling softly as Taalviel backs out, pulling the cart along. Caspian’s stomach flips when he sees it. He hadn’t forgotten about it – how could he? – but seeing it with his own two eyes –

He glances around swiftly. Surely the people who frequent Xyna must know this is a lender’s storefront, and that the sole commodity passing in and out of its doors is pure, unadulterated cash. But perhaps, under the watchful eye of Xyna, this isn’t the place to worry that they’ll be rushed and stormed for it.

Zeltiva, on the other hand, might be another story.

“Let’s go,” he urges Shiress softly.

As they pass through the dovecote and back into Zeltiva, Caspian takes mental stock of the spiral Obfuscate dagger strapped to his waist, hidden beneath his jacket. Knows Taalviel’s got the slim assassin’s blade down her boot. Taalviel’s at the lead, Caspian behind her and the cart, and Shiress on the left. That leaves the right side open, which isn't ideal. Just as he begins to pivot himself a bit towards the right - whether it's effective or not, it just gives him more peace of mind - a small, bulky figure falls into step.

Startled, Caspian reaches for the dagger in his jacket.

"Hold it there, little lord," says a gravelly voice, and Caspian finds himself face-to-face for the second time that night with the vagrant who's dubbed himself as the Mayor of East Street. He must have waited for them to reemerge from the dovecote. "I won't ask what it is yeh've got. But I can guess it's somethin' worth circlin'. Don't worry about the right flank. I got yer." He steps to the side, moseys along as if he doesn't know them, so it isn't so evidently obvious the cart is something being strictly guarded. Now that they've got it surrounded on all sides, Caspian's mind whirs a little slower, a little less frenetically break-neck.

Zeltiva is dark and quiet at this hour, and they steer clear of East Street as they make their way back to the cottage. Every stoop they pass, every alley and shadowed corner and whisk of a rat’s tail across the stones – Caspian feels his heart accelerate at the slightest provocation. Taalviel, straight-backed and silent, betrays no anxiety, never looks over her shoulder. He focuses on the sway of her dark glossy hair.

“Almost there,” he murmurs to Shiress, trying not to look too hard at the cart trundling along in front of him. Pretends that the pile of produce is stacked all the way to its bottom.

Only when they’re turning up the lane to the cottage and he can make out the handle to the front door in the dark does he allow himself to breathe. The Mayor had made himself scarce, exact moment undetermined. Caspian and Taalviel grab opposite ends of the cart, heaving it up the few steps to the porch, then over the threshold, wheeling it into the parlor.

x

[Shiress]

"Flutter."

That name...

Shiress squeezed her eyes closed upon hearing the nickname Caspian had adopted for her. It had been so long since hearing her friend call her that. It was precious to her ears, and she wondered if Caspian knew how much hearing it calmed her, made her feel...valued in some way.

Shiress doubted it very much.

It had only taken 3,000 gold coins to hear it again. She smiled sadly at the thought. It was worth it, though, every last coin. When strong arms encircled her, Shiress melted into the embrace, pressing her forehead against Caspian's chest, listening to his words, and doing her best not to lose herself completely. Caspian was right; she had had her time of breaking down. This entire nightmarish journey was nearly done, and now was the time to be strong.

Or, at least, fake it better.

Shiress crumpled the offered handkerchief between both trembling hands and, turning slightly away, lifted it to her nose, and breathed in deeply, taking in the familiar scent of pine and spice and a hint of something floral that was all Caspian.

The journey home was one of quiet contemplation for Shiress, who barely acknowledged the arrival of another. She just clung to Caspian and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and casting down unwanted feelings as they attempted to surface.

Once they had arrived home, Shiress stepped through the door and immediately stepped aside, pausing beside the entrance. As soon as Taalviel had pulled the wagon through and disappeared into the cottage, Shiress reached out and grabbed Caspian's arm, halting him by the door. He turned toward her at the same time Shiress took a step toward him, and their combined momentum brought them chest to chest.

Caspian was a good few inches taller than Shiress, and she had to tip her head back to catch his gaze as he tilted his head to look down at her. She hadn't meant to bring their bodies this close together. She had only meant to stop her friend for a word, to say 'thank you' before he followed his sister into the cottage, but at this very moment, as she stood so very close, looking up into his familiar green eyes, she knew. Shiress knew, and the knowledge stole her breath away. She couldn't breathe, couldn't take in enough of a breath to speak.

Shiress's hands had instinctually gone to Caspian's waist as their bodies came close, but now her grip tightened as her gaze fell to his lips, her's parting on a slight inhale the moment fingertips of one hand slipped beneath fabric and brushed against warm skin.

The soft sound of coins clinking together drew Shiress's eyes closed. Another moment passed, and she lowered her head, taking a much needed step back, arms falling away to rest by her sides.

"I just wanted to say thank you one last time." she said, looking up with a reflective smile, then turned away.

Later, as Shiress knelt by her son's cradle, running her fingers through Ian's soft curls, the weight she had been carrying seemed to crash down around her. She would have cried had she tears left to do so. She felt lost and alone. But more than that, Shiress felt cheated. Not from the many coins that she felt sure Caspian and his sister were all but swimming in right then, but cheated from what now felt would be considered bought. Owed. Purchased and paid for. A bribe.

"It's still just you and me, my sweet baby boy." she whispered.

Because now Shiress would never be able to tell Caspian that she was completely and utterly in love with him.

[Caspian]

x

Things are easier when he’s busy, when he’s in the thick of something and his mind and body are occupied with getting from one trial to the next, when it seems like he can hardly catch his breath in between. But once they get to the cottage – it’s as if everything slows, enough for him to remember, again, the pit of dread that had taken up permanent residence in his gut over the past few seasons.

There’s something new in Shiress’ eyes when he finds them suddenly standing much closer than he’d anticipated. Reflexively, he catches her wrist that’s snaked its way around his waist. Gently but firmly presses it back to her.

“You should go to bed,” he says. I didn’t do anything, is what he doesn’t add. All I did was show up.

Were he any less overwhelmed with all that had happened in the last 24 hours, he might have examined the expression on Shiress’ face further. But it’s dark and he can’t be sure what he saw, and his mind is already clattering, and like a phantom he passes up the stairs and into the loft room.

Ever efficient, Taalviel’s already stowing the last of the bags beneath a loose floorboard when he enters.

Wordlessly, Caspian opens the window and climbs out onto the roof. It’s too easy, with all the railings and slates for ready handholds, and by the time Taalviel joins him he’s already well into his tobacco.

For a few minutes they sit silently side by side, beneath the moon beaming down in silvery swaths, the sound of the waves from the bay crashing across the shore.

“What are we still doing here?” Taalviel speaks first.

Ever since they’d crossed the threshold and heaved the money into the house, one problem solved, he’d had more space to think. To remember. And it had come to him, unbidden, Shiress’ confessing all that had happened that led to their run from Ravok.

He doesn’t know if he’s upset with her, or he's just smarting from a wound being reopened. He can try, pin the blame in someone else’s direction just to spare himself. But he knows that it was just a matter of one event leading to another, Shiress doing what she could to survive – and he had simply gotten caught up in the crossfire. If he were her – he can’t say he would have done anything differently.

“Where else would we be?” he replies.

“You know perfectly well what I’m going to say.”

“Then petching say it and be done with it.”

“Sunberth,” she says simply.

He exhales roughly, inhales sharply, the smoke spinning madly around them.

“Is this how you want to spend the rest of your life?” she goes on. “Playing nice with housewives? Stalking their exes and hoping they keep throwing you a bone? It doesn’t take much to sit and stare, Caspian. And I know you’re capable of so much more.”

“So much more?” he repeats. “Skulking around pays, and it doesn’t involve hurting people. I know this is hard for you to accept, but not everyone is like you. I’m not like you. I didn’t leave Sunberth because I was bored, I left because everything Taaldros had me do was despicable.”

“Three thousand gold in your lap,” she says, “and I’ve seen you genuinely happier nicking a few coppers from some washerwoman’s pocket. You’re right. You weren’t bored in Sunberth. But you’re bored to shyke here.”

“This is all you wanted,” he replies, fuming. “From the moment you showed up in my apartment in Ravok. All you’ve been trying to do for the past few years is drag me back to something I worked so petching hard to leave. Is Taaldros really that strapped for bodies to burn? Last I remember, he called me useless more often than my own name. Why don’t you go, then, if you hate it here so much? Take your share and get on a ship and let me finally mind my own petching business.”

“I’m not going to leave you,” she says, simply and without furor. “But I do – “

Her voice breaks.

Caspian blinks, swivels sharply to stare.

When was the last time that had happened?

“I can remember it, you know. Down to painful detail. The cracks in the pavement and the grit beneath my soles. The red bricks you and I used to climb when we took a shortcut to the market. The wind and salt sticking to my wings when I flew over Baroque Bay, combing it out of my hair when I got home. When I sleep, I don’t know if I dream – but I remember it all so vividly it’s as if I’m there. And I miss it, Caspian. I miss the place where I was born, where you and I could be ourselves – be whoever we wanted to be, without any one god or goddess, Ebonstryfe or Wave Guard just a step behind. We had people, family who understood exactly who we are. With them, we don’t have to lie about our parents, or who we came from. In Sunberth – you wouldn’t have to be an investigator anymore. Think of how much more you could make if you were free to –“

The pipe’s burned itself out in his hands.

“We can’t just leave,” he says, even though he knows the words are empty. Because – they can, can’t they? They can go wherever they like.

“There’s something else holding you back, isn’t there?” she says quietly. He can sense her rapid calculations, her shuffling from one theory to the next, finally landing on, “It’s that woman from the fortune teller’s shop.”

Rohka.

The waves against the shore, though just a stone’s throw away, aren’t loud enough to fill the space between them.

“I used to think I was born under an unlucky star,” he said. “I just had to be playing out in the copse that day. I had to be alone. I had to be out by myself at the very bell, the very tick that that piece of shyke decided to go on a petching stroll. Why did I, out of all the kids in the Hold, have to be the one who got kidnapped? What in the world, as a child, had I done to deserve it? I’ve spent so many years trying to understand why things played out the way they did, and all I could cobble together was that the world simply doesn’t give a shyke who I am or who I’ll be. It was just… chaos.”

Just Rhysol.

“You were right,” he says, straining past the hoarseness that’s locked up his throat, “that I was lost when you found me. Wandering from one amusement to the next and drinking myself down the drain. But even then – that was where I met her. And then where I found Shiress again. And if I hadn’t been caught up with everything with Shiress and then ended up here – I still can’t believe it, finding Rohka again. If I can try and make sense of everything that’s happened – “ He shakes his head. “It has to mean something,” he says. “Out of all the places on the continent we could have ended up, we’re together again. With her - I don't think I've ever felt like this before. And I want to see what happens next.”

Is Taalviel upset?

He can’t tell, for she’s sitting so perfectly still, knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped round. Staring off at the bay, the reflection of the moon wavering across.

“Just – think about it. Okay?” she says.

“Yeah. I will.”

Back in bed, though in the still and quiet, and with a familiar body beside him – he doesn’t manage to fall asleep until just before the sun’s rising.

x

[Shiress]

Your Grades!

Caspian

Skills

Observation 5XP
Planning 3XP
Persuation 3XP
Begging 1XP
Larceny 1XP

Lore

Teeva - Apothecary
Teeva - Childhood friend of Shiress and Zane
Teeva - Healer Twice marked by Rak'keli
Teeva - Free medical care for discretion
Shiress - Suffers from a mental 'injury' (PTSD) and mental 'episodes'
Madeira Dusk - Shiress's patient
Madeira Dusk - Cooerseced Shiress into injuring her
Shiress - Bribed for 3,000 GM to injure Madeira
Shiress - Killed Elijah Jordan

Rewards & Penalties

Congratulations Caspian, you have been rewarded 3,000GM. Please update your CS to include this in your ledger.

Notes

What a thrill! Thank you so much for writing with me!