Solo Twice the Price

[Meville Brightshade]

The fifty-sixth day of Fall, 513 AV

"Since time immemorial, the great something or other has frowned upon those other things with... Hm..." Muttering to himself, Meville flipped through the pages of the book set before him. The crisp, flicking sound of the paper being flicked through as Meville searched for the proper terms in Vani, continuing to mutter little phrases and words as they caught his eye in passing. "So if you use the improper conjugation of 'to dance', it's almost as proper as using 'to shimmy'...? No, no... That wouldn't make sense because that one needs a non plural noun and that strange modulation using-" He was cut short by the sound of the Warrens' door bursting open as several figures shuffled in, their faces concealed behind the protective cloaks they wore to hide from the freezing night of Avanthal's snow.

"'Lo there, man!" The first to speak was a wide set, deep voiced man who's bass tones seemed to shake the wood of the desk that separated the group from Meville. "We're lookin' fer a place ta spend the next handful o' days. Can ya help us out?" He seemed a friendly enough fellow, though certainly the leader of the group as the the other two seemed to stay in the man's shadow, only glancing at the warmth of the fire that blazed off to the side.

Meville quickly slammed the book he'd been reading shut, swapping it for the Warrens' ledger and grinning at the group all the while. "Yes, yes, of course! There isn't a better place for travelers to stay than here at the Warrens." Quickly flipping through the pages until he came to the the proper place, Meville snatched up his quill, inking it some and raising a brow at the man. "How many nights, precisely, are you planning on staying?"

The man and his posse had removed their hoods, revealing their faces. The man was clean shaven with a bushy head of tawny hair that fell well below the lobes of his ears. His large, dark eyes seemed relatively benign, though the eyes of the two women who accompanied him held a strange sort of steel to them. The women were, more or less, the same in height, skin tone, and hair color and length: a mousy brown, short bobbed, wispy kind of hair. "I think thirty days, at most." He turned to the woman on his right who nodded that was indeed the case. "That won't be a problem, willit?" The man seemed legitimately concerned there might not be a place for them to stay for so long. Meville only laughed as he shook his head, letting the man know it would be, indeed, no problem.

"I'll just need your names then, for registry purposes." Flipping to the first page of the ledge, Meville squinted at the Geninsi's tiny scrawl, checking to see how much thirty days worth of time would cost them. Penned next to the neatly drawn "30 days" was an unintelligible mess of ink. Meville frowned, as he couldn't decipher the writing, he had no idea how much it would cost. Though an avid reader, Meville had never been one for mathematics, but he was certain the man would want to know the price. Thus, he looked at the few prices above the one he wanted. Muttering to himself, he tapped his quill against the desk as he counted. All the while, the two women had decided it was safe enough for them to go relax in front of the hearth while they let the man handle the money matters.

"Ya can write down we're the Brightshades. S'name of those ladies over there."

Meville, engrossed in the mentally taxing task of guessing at how much to charge them, just nodded at the man, figuring the cost was somewhere between 100 and 50 Mizas. As he decided upon a solid 53, the gravity of what the man had said finally hit him. The Brightshades? He started up in his chair, startling the bushy haired man as he did so. "Ya'll right, man?" Meville shook his head, affirming a 'yes he was quite alright' before offering the man a weak smile. "Apologies. It's just not a very common name, you know. Brightshade." The man shrugged. Apparently it wasn't all that odd. "Ehem, anyway. That'll be fifty-three Mizas for thirty days."

The man glanced back to the Brightshade sisters, and received a nod from one of them. Which, exactly, Meville couldn't really tell. As they shared his last name, he had the strange fear they might recognize him if he stared too much, and they were so very similar he couldn't tell them apart without further examination. The man nodded, "Aye, that'll be fine then." Drawing out a fat purse of coins, his meaty fingers dug into the leather pouch until the proper payment had been procured. With slightly shaking hands, Meville gently bit down on one of the coins to check it's authenticity before putting them into the box where they kept the payments for the day. Reaching down into one of the lower drawers, Meville shuffled around in it until he came back up with a key to the cabin he'd marked on the Warrens' layout in the ledger.

"Excellent! You'll be in cabin twelve B. It's straight to the right once you leave the lodge and a left at cabin six E. Straight on from there." The man nodded his understanding, offering Meville a content smile before turning to address the Brightshades. "All warmed up, ladies?" With their attention placed upon the man, Meville took the opportunity to glean what he could from the sisters, if that's what they were. They held about them a refined air, straight backs, slight frowns, and that strange steely gaze that was as readable as a wooden wall. Neither seemed to be the possible author of the notes he'd received before, which helped to put him more at ease.

"No. We're not ready in the slightest."

Common | Vani

[Meville Brightshade]

Both Meville and the man raised their brows at the woman's response. "My sister and I are weary, cold, and now we've finally begun to find a bit of comfort." The other woman nodded that that was indeed the truth of the matter. "Why don't you take our things to the cabin, Bartum, while we wait here and rest ourselves." She made a vague gesture in Meville's direction. "The boy can entertain us for the time being." It seemed the man, Bartum, was under the employ of the sisters, as he offered no signs of resistance. Instead, he gave Meville a nod of his head before pulling his hood back up over his face and heading out the door into the cold, key in hand. When the door had been shut and the warmth reclaimed the room, the woman who had first spoke addressed Meville. "Boy. Come here."

Shrugging, Meville pushed himself out of his chair, closing the ledger and flicking the money box's lock before slipping the little key into his pocket. The sisters, however daunting, didn't seem to pose him much danger. They were, if anything, condescending old bats. Offering a friendly grin, Meville ambled over to stand before the two of them, unsure which one to look at. "Sit." At their command, Meville took his place on the bench, creating a make-shift triangle of figures so he could keep an eye on both Brightshades.

"He certainly looks like him, doesn't he, Isadora?"

This time, the other woman had spoken. Her voice, unlike her sister's, was slightly higher and breathy than the harsh, bold tone of the other. "Yes, yes. I was just thinking that to myself, Milicent."

A slow wave of cold passed over Meville's spin as the women's words washed over him, their quizzical gazes appraising him as if he were for sale. "He's much more attractive than he was at this age, don't you think?" Milicent stated her question much as she had everything else, breathy and almost dreamlike.

"Yes, except for that vapid grin of his." Isadora frowned then, a cue for Meville to stop smiling and let his face return to it's neutral features. "Better."

Milicent's lips twitched slightly, into a very faint smile. "Do you think he taught him anything?" If Meville had to guess, he assumed Milicent was referring to magic.

"Yes, I'm absolutely certain he knows at least something." Isadora's gaze hardened, a feat Meville hadn't thought possible. "Isn't that right, boy?"

Slightly overwhelmed by what was happening, Meville could only return Isadora's question with a confused look of his own. "I-I'm sorry, but I'm not entirely sure what you're referring to." Milicent make a clicking noise as she looked back to Isadora with a raised brow. "I don't have time for stupidity. You're Tomas's son, are you not?" Meville nodded obediently. He was quickly falling under the impression that Isadora was not the type to be trifled with. "Yes? Use your words. boy." To which Meville stuttered out a quiet, "Y-yes, mum."

Milicent, pleased at how things were progressing, offered Meville a shake of her head. "No, no, dearie. Isadora absolutely loathes timidity. You'd best get that through your head now, before she gets it through for you." Her breathy voice had a slight sing-song to it. She was very much enjoying the interaction.

Nodding at the seemingly more friendly of the sisters, Meville tried again, addressing the now scowling Isadora. "Yes. I am the son of Tomas." Without much thinking it through, he added, "And my name is Meville, not 'boy', thank you."

Another click came out of Milicent, though this time there was a much more defined curve to her lips. "Much better, dearie." Isadora didn't seem nearly as pleased, but the scowl had receded some, now just a solid frown.

"And I assume he initiated you?"

Meville grimaced. "Twice." It was strange to be openly talking about magic with complete and utter strangers. His reply was met with a genuine widening of both women's eyes.

"Dyna's piss, that petcher." Isadora, for once, allowed her disdain to be cast on something other than Meville. In this case, his father. "And you've been practicing, I assume?" Her eyes had narrowed some, suspicion lurking behind her steely gaze.

"Well... One of them, at least." Both women seemed to let out a sigh of relief, though Milicent's was much more noticeable than her sister's. "Well, that's certainly-" Isadora held up a hand, silencing her. Milicent looked slightly perturbed, but acquiesced, falling into a grumbling quiet.

Common | Vani

[Meville Brightshade]

"Meville," Isadora, as with most of what he'd said, wasn't impressed, "Tell me about Tomas." Her tone wasn't questioning or interested. It was, perhaps, a tad bit demanding, but there was an under-pining of something close to sadness. Meville frowned then, glancing to Milicent who had been his tentative ally. She seemed encouraging enough, though her face was still relatively unreadable, she still offered him a nod to proceed.

"Well... He..." Entirely unsure where to begin, Meville floundered for a few moments in one of the few instances in which he was lost for words. "He's dead." Both women raised their brows at him, allowing a bit of expectancy to show through their features. "And well... He taught me, I suppose." There wasn't much else to say on the matter. The three of them sat in silence for about a chime before Milicent decided to say something.

"Well can you blame him? The man was insufferable even before he left." Her airy voice held in it the most volume she'd voiced yet. Apparently she viewed Tomas in much the same light as Meville: not someone entirely appealing.

"I'm not blaming anyone, Milicent." Isadora's voice had adopted a slightly more haughty tone. It seemed the sisters were growing slightly less austere than they had been at first. Milicent rolled her eyes at her sister's statement, and Isadora, deciding to ignore it, addressed Meville. Her tone was much less harsh, though still exacting. "Have you and that woman been fairing well?"

Meville squinted his eyes in confusion. His initial thought flicked to Lorelle, one of the few female influences on his life. However, if they had not known his name, it was highly unlikely they new of her. After a few beats, he realized they were referring to his mother. His face darkened some before he could reply, his voice a tone similar to his somber features. "She died as well."

For the first time, the two sisters looked genuinely caring. Milicent even ventured a soft, "Oh dear..." Another chime passed before Meville was able to gather himself. Usually, he wasn't nearly as affected by the death of his mother, but with everything happening all at once and the strange Brightshade women berating him with questions, he hadn't quite been able to maintain his composure. "It happened a few years back." His voice was much more back to it's usual vim and vigor. "I'm sorry, but why are you here? Even... Who are you?"

He had the impression that they were his aunts, sisters of his father. He'd never been told about them, but he didn't know anything about his family outside of his mother and father. Even his mother's journal hadn't said anything about her family, aside from Tomas. So now, looking at the two woman who had, somehow, shifted from their stoic, reserved mannerisms into soft eyed elders, Meville was ready for some answers of of his own.

Common | Vani

[Meville Brightshade]

Isadora sighed, nodding toward Milicent who seemed much more eager to speak than she. "We're your Aunties, dearie." Her breathy voice had taken on an almost coddling quality as her eyes regarded him. They had changed, slightly, to be softer, more comforting, though the strange steeliness still remained, however faint. "Isadora the Ironwilled and Milicent the Mendacious." She made a slight wave of her hand before inclining her head in a little bow. "At least, that's what they would call us if anyone actually knew what we did." Isadora let out a contemptible snort at that, to which Milicent shot her a venomous glare. "Tomas is-" Milicent hesitated, correcting herself. "Was our brother."

"That's a given, seeing as you just told him we're his aunts."

Milicent delivered yet another glare, this time receiving a slight curve of Isadora's lips and a tiny shimmer of impish glee in her eyes. Meville was quickly finding it easier and easier to believe they shared a bond through blood. "Sourpusses aside," Milicent flicked her eyes to Isadora, challenging her to speak. "We came here to seek him out. Tomas, that is."

To this, Isadora nodded. "We didn't expect to find his son working at the first place we stopped, however. That was a bit of a surprise." Milicent gave Isadora an exasperated frown which had absolutely no effect on her continuing to address Meville. "Anyway, meeting you saved us plenty of time." Here, she lowered her voice some, if for no other reason than to sound slightly more conspiratorial. "We've come to teach you magic."

Meville frowned, though not due to any sort of unpleasant feeling. He couldn't decided it the two women, his aunts, were being serious or not. It showed on his features, and Milicent decided to address it. "Not leeching of course. That's a barbaric grasp at power." Both Meville and Isadora gave Milicent a deadpan stare, to which she shut her mouth and leaned farther back into her chair, deciding it was best to be quite for the time being.

"What Milicent meant was we recently received word from your father to come here and share what we know with you." She made a vague gesture in the air with her right hand. "To be your mentors or something of the sort."

Meville's frown deepened. "Recently? But he died years ago." Both Isadora and Milicent chuckled then, amused by Meville's concern.

"Yes, of course, dearie. It wasn't exactly a letter, per say, as a feeling." Meville chewed on his lower lip, looking to Isadora for the potential for a better explanation.

"He contacted us before passing."

Meville's frown was now firmly set into a hill, the furrow of his brow deepening. "You mean to tell me he became a ghost?" To which both women once again chuckled.

"Something like that." Neither seemed like they were going to share much more than that. Frustrated, Meville decided it was best to not press the issue, as it wasn't going to get him anywhere. Instead, he just shook his head, leaning back into the chair, regarding the two women. "Alright then, so you came all the way to Avanthal to teach me? I would at least like a reason other than my father requesting it."

Milicent looked at Isadora, brows raised. The other sister glared at Meville, shaking her head side to side. "I don't think you quite understand. Tomas never requested help. From anyone."

Nodding, Milicent added, "So when he asked the two of us, well!"

Meville rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. He'd known his father had been a powerful man, but he hadn't quite realize to what extent that power had dominion over. Before he could respond, the door once more swung open as Bartum reentered, shaking the snow off of him before shutting the door to keep the cold out. "S'cold as a dead mans balls out there." As Meville looked back to his aunts, they'd once more assumed their rigid, stoic personas.

"Is the cabin ready then, Bartum?" Isadora rose, replacing the hood over her head and face.

"Yes'm."

Milicent followed suit, falling into step with Isadora behind the man. As the three headed out, Milicent turned to Meville, handing him a pouch of Mizas. "We plan on staying until the end of spring. This should be enough until then, dearie." As Meville took the pouch with uncertain hands, Milicent placed her own over his, her steeley eyes gazing into his own bright ones. "Come visit in the winter. We need time to prepare." With that, she scurried back to her group, wiggling her fingers into her gloves as the three of them drifted out into the snowfall.

Common | Vani

[Meville Brightshade]

Sitting back down behind the desk, Meville brought the book he'd been reading back out, laying it open before him as he tried to push the strange advent of his newfound family back somewhere he could deal with later. Having been distracted, he had no idea where he'd left off, not that it mattered as he was mostly just trying to translate. Sighing, he flipped through the pages, looking for familiar words. As he did so, he tapped his heel against the floor, a bit frustrated with everything. The strangest part of the whole encounter was they didn't want to see him until Winter at the earliest. Crazy old bats.

After about a bell of reading - or attempting to - the door opened once more. This time, several young men entered, furred coats and caps giving them the appearance of standing polar bears. Five in number, two approached the desk with the others hurried to the fire. "Yes. Hah-loh. We pay, sleep good."

Usually, Meville wasn't incredibly picky about other people's Vani, as his wasn't all that great. The men before him, however, were absolute rubbish. Shaking his head, Meville gave a little snicker before addressing them in Common, hoping they were a bit better at that. "If it's easier, I'd prefer Common." The two men looked at each other in surprise before grinning their thanks and nodding.

"Sorry about that, then. You didn't really look like a Vantha, but I didn't want to be rude." The other man nodded his agreement, removing the cap to reveal a dirty blonde mane and soft, green eyes. The one that had spoken opted to keep his hat on, his dark eyes only just visible above the ruff of his coat. "It's right freezing up here. Didn't think it'd be this chilly."

Grinning, Meville shook his head. "You pictured a city of never-ending snow a bit more tropical, hm?" Both men shrugged, chuckling embarrassingly. "Now then, there's five of you? Or are there more waiting outside?"

The blonde man shook his head, "No, friend, just the five."

"Excellent! And how long do you all plan on staying?"

Frowning, the blonde man looked to the other. Hesitating for a moment, the capped man spoke with a tentative manner. "Indefinitely?"

Nodding understanding, Meville reassured them, "You're not the first." Sliding the book he'd been reading under the desk, Meville opened up the ledger, flipping to one of the pages in the back before inking up his quill. While his handwriting wasn't glorious, it wasn't absolutely terrible, allowing him to write down notes about specific patrons if it was required. "Now, it's perfectly fine if you'd like to lease a cabin or two here at the Warrens, however if any of you are proficient in any trade skills native to the Holds of the Vantha, it's very likely they'd take you in as honored guests." The two men raised their brows at that, intrigued. "Vantha hospitality and all. Though an indefinite stay would require you to help out around the city if you find a home in one of the Holds."

Both men seemed to think the idea of staying in the holds was rather appealing. "So should we go there now?"

Meville shook his head, frowning. "No no. It's rather late in the day for that. You'd do best to rent out a cabin for now while you get your bearings of the city. Once you figure everything out, you can always check out of here without much problem." That, and Jennai would have been extremely displeased with him turning away potential customers. She was a lovely, darling woman, but that didn't mean she didn't want to help support her grandmother's business.

The two men nodded before asking Meville the rates, to which he responded, "For about how long?" Both chatted for a moment before deciding upon a tentative ten. "Lovely, that'll be fifteen golds, unless you were wanting an extra cabin?" Shaking their heads, Meville nodded, flipping the pages of the ledger until he came to a place to write down their names and cabin number. "Very good then! It'll be cabin nine B. The B's are a bit confusing, but if you follow the A's down until they become E, your cabin should be along the path to your left." Looking a little confused, but happy, the two men thanked Meville before gathering up their group and heading back into the snow, key in hand.

Common | Vani

[Meville Brightshade]

*Credit to Ainyi for the song*

As it was getting fairly late, Meville decided to start getting things ready for Jennai. It had been a fairly exciting shift, two groups, one of which had been related to him. Rolling his eyes, Meville opened up the money box, counting out how many golds there were and noting it down in the closing registry. Flipping through the ledger, he also checked off the cabins he'd occupied with a piece of charcoal. The housing map was rather smudgy after so many uses, Meville figured they'd been needing another one soon. A friend of a friend had mentioned something about a younger Snowsong doing scribal work for a relatively low price. Seeing as the chart wasn't all that important to have done in a pristine fashion, Meville figured he might as well see what she could do, of course, after getting the go ahead from Geninsi. She didn't like it when he changed things without asking.

Letting the heavy book close, Meville headed into the back room, stumbling over some of the found articles people had left behind before snatching the mop from its hiding place. Glaring at the broom, Meville exited, dragging his tool of choice behind him as he approached the puddles left from the men before. Methodically mopping the floors, Meville chatted to the fire, singing a little song he'd heard awhile back. "The wind did rise, on Yoro's back, the snow did hit his face," Turning to attack another puddle, he continued, his happy voice bouncing around the room in its pitiful tones. "He climbed the hill, no one was around!" Two of the puddles gone, only one remained. "Hmm hmmm, to wed!"

Frowning at the mop, he held the thing over the fire, burning out some of the liquid before pulling it back before the actual fibers caught flame. Coughing at the unappealing smell, Meville moved to the door, mopping up the moister there as he continued humming the melody of the song. After several more chimes of mopping, the floors were clean. Nodding in satisfaction, Meville swapped the mop for the broom, mostly to appear busy for when Jennai entered rather than actually do anything with it. So, he stood near the fire, mindlessly sweeping the floor for a solid ten chimes before the door opened, allowing the young woman to enter, her eyes rolling at his obvious lack of usefulness.

"I thought I'd find you like that. You could at least pretend to be sweeping."

Laughing, Meville leaned the broom against the wall. "Then I'd be lying to you, and you've already told me you don't like it when I do that!" She shook her head, amusement playing at the corners of her lips. "And besides. I did mop." He gestured to the floor, though it was rather bland as they appeared as they always did.

"I'm sure." She chuckled, stepping into the back room to drop off her coat and scarf. "Did anyone interesting stop in?"

Meville chewed on his bottom lip, grabbing up the broom once more and fiddling with the handle. "There were some very attractive young men here for you. I told them you were interested only in Jamoura, so they left." A snort came from the back room. "In all frankness, just two groups tonight. One of them paid all the way until the end of winter." That received a whistle.

"Were you able to figure out the price for that? I don't think grandmother wrote that one in the appendix." She sounded legitimately concerned.

Meville walked back to join her in the back room, dropping off his broom and frowning at her. "No, actually. They just left me a purse with a couple hundred golds." Jennai laughed before she realized he wasn't joking.

"You're serious?"

He nodded. "Trusting old bats." Jennai shook her head, walking past him and opening the money box. Milicent's purse was nestled in among the rest of the money, which she plucked out and perused the contents of. "I told you." She just shook her head, grinning. "Anyway, now that you're here, I'm heading out."

Jennai nodded, "Have a good night, Meville. And you do know fifty three golds was too much, right?" She'd opened the ledger to inspect his work. Wincing, he gave her an apologetic look. "It's fine. We're going to have to work on grandmother's handwriting and your arithmetic skills some day." She sounded a bit wistful, which Meville took as his cue to leave. Waving goodbye, he headed out into the snow, ready for a good night's sleep and some solitude to ponder the questionable advent of the two women who'd claimed to be his aunts.

Common | Vani

[Ablation]

Meville :

Experience:

Cleaning +1
Observation +1
Socialization +1

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