Closed Just a wager (Alric)

[Cleon]

21st of Spring, 522 AV

Cleon’s intent for the note hadn’t been to draw a crowd. What he’d hoped for was a competent individual or two to show up and he’d be able to settle quickly who was going to deliver his message. He fancied the idea that he had a knack for accurate first impressions, however that was a good deal more difficult with the small cluster of people that where currently loitering around the fountain. They couldn’t all be here for his message, right?

He’d come early to just kind of get a gauge of what to expect, but this was a little overwhelming. Cleon had come in wearing his clothes he had brought from Sunberth. Although he had access to much better clothing some borrowed, others bought for him, he had decided that these worn clothes were the kind of impression he wanted to make. Though that didn’t make much sense if he put any amount of thought into it, so perhaps it was just that they felt more comfortable for consorting with people he knew would be from the city.

That struck closer to the mark. He chewed on that momentarily as he decided just how he was going to approach the crowd around the fountain when he decided it would be best to just go about it bluntly.

“Excuse me, is anyone here from Sunberth? I need a message delivered.” He called out with his hands cupped around either side of his mouth, then he took a step back to see who all would approach him. From the crowd came a much more manageable number of people, three to be exact. Two were about what he had expected, a boy and girl scarcely older than himself with dirty hands and clean faces. Between them stepped a older man with distinctly masculine features who looked more competent than the pair.

Cleon made a show of looking at all three carefully before speaking. “Well I only need one of you so I suppose we’ll toss a coin for it. Which side is it for you? He asked the boy on the left.

“Tails”

Turning to the girl he asked again. She took a moment longer than the boy, studying the man between them before saying.

“Tails”

Cleon suppressed a grin. Well that certainly made things a lot easier though he could see the strategy in it, as flawed as it was for this was a rigged game. He gave the man a moment to respond to the same question he posed to the others before he took out a silver rimmed miza, and held it tails up across the top of his thumb. Then with a flick of his wrist and snap upward of his thumb the coin appeared to the uninitiated to flip end over end. However to the observant, he’d really only set it to a wobbling arch through the air by brushing the edge with his thumb so when it came down, he already knew the which side was going to come up. Heads.

He showed the coin to all three of them before quickly replacing it in his coin purse. Fortunately the boy and girl didn’t make too much of a fuss about losing. Just some disgruntled noises before they went on their way towards the fountain square. The crowd at this point had also stopped paying attention to him with the initial interest diminished however Cleon still felt more comfortable leading away from the fountain before he decided to introduce himself properly to the man.

“My name is Cleon. I assume that you are from Sunberth, or have a way of getting a message to Sunberth in a reasonable amount of time, is that correct?” Cleon asked.

When or if the man answered in the affirmative, Cleon would continue on after the man had been given enough time to say his piece.

“Well it happens that I have a relative in Sunberth that I’ve lost track of, but I know her general location. Hence why the offering is so generous for such a small favor. However, because of this before we discuss any of the particulars I must know if you have any qualms about delivering a message to someone in the Sun’s Birth gated community.” He let the words hang at that, because a lot would depend on the way the man answered this question to determine if they would continue or not. A part of him also realized that this would have been better put forward with the others present, but he didn’t dwell on that too much as he hadn’t really liked the look of the other two anyways. This man on the other hand seemed more than capable. Cleon just had to hope that his affiliation wouldn’t make him refuse the request, and he really hoped this man wasn’t a Dagger Hand. He kept his thumbs hooked through back of his trousers just in case where he could feel the handle of the razor he had tucked away.

WC - 835

[Alric Lysane]

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he had decided to show up as the notice had asked. He had passed it a number of times, every so often he checked in at the Kalskan Fountain as it had provided him with a number of odd jobs over the seasons, yet the note he had spied earlier this season had piqued his curiosity. It wasn’t the fact that he might have been one of the odd few, who had access to Sunberth at the Outpost, or even that he was part of the fewer people in that group who might care. No, as he stood and waited, patiently sensing out the passive world beneath everything with his Auristics, eyes emerald green though no one would know that was abnormal for him unless they had seen him before, he realised it was the message – it was…curious.

What kind of messenger needs one taken from here to Sunberth, unable to take it themselves? What was so important in the city of chaos that a short, direct route was required. Was there something urgent afoot? Spycraft, perhaps? he thought to himself absently, watching the crows but not letting his Djed surge and focus properly just yet, simply holding it and…being.

Eventually there came the cry of one looking for Sunberthians, a higher pitched one than he had expected and when he took in the young lad, younger than him and far smaller, an amused smile played across his lips. His life had never been particularly simple of late, and apparently that extended to random message givers in the Outpost now too. The lad definitely wasn’t what he had been expecting, no mercenary or bounty hunter. He doubted he was a spy, though certainly there was the possibility that it was an exceptional disguise. As the other two called their bets he said nothing, simply opened himself to his Djed after standing alongside them all and took in the urchin before him.

What he saw gave him pause, his aura was not so different from others, conflicting colours that flickered in and out of existence, far too quickly and with no reference for him to interpret He wasn’t concerned with that so much, but what he did see were cracks and dots of black, usually how he sense out wounds or pains. There were quite a few of them, none of them large but the number made him wonder if his initial assessments were off – did this lad get into a lot of fights, secret wounds from secret dealings? He hadn’t seemed to seem pained, so perhaps his interpretation as off. The lad smelled of damp earth and...layered dirt? With a hint of…something else…the smell of stale sweet, as if of desperation, perhaps? Wait…no…not quite…there was an undertone of…something else. His music was jaunty and intermittent, almost skittish in its playing as if non-committal to the tune…or continuously distracted? He refocused into a passive reading state, not seeking out anything in particular, instead waiting for things to be revealed over their time together.

“I am from Sunberth, yes. Alric. Though the Gated Community is not really part of the Sun’s Birth anymore…how long have you been gone?” he asked, curiosity tingling at the back of his scalp, Cleon’s colours flickering and bursting a pale red for a few moments, almost washed out to include a greyness. Irritated perhaps? But Alric had done nothing to make him so.

“As for the Sun’s Birth, I have had the odd dealings with them, I don’t see why I’d have problems delivering a message. What’s the name and what’s the message? And…if you don’t mind my asking…why leave a relative in that gods forsaken city when you clearly managed to get away?” he asked, his tone warm if curious.

[Cleon]

Cleon had never been very big. Quite the opposite, he’d always been small and lanky for his age. It was the reason he had been picked on, even preyed upon as far back as he could remember. The lot of the weak to be beholden to the strong. So there was a strange mixture of emotions flickering through him as he looked upon this man looking at him. Anger, fear, anticipation, uncertainty, hope, familiarity. Unlike the two that had left, this man radiated strength of the sort he was looking for.

Although he had been at it for nearly a third of a season, he hadn’t grown by much just yet. He was still the small, lanky boy he’d always been huddled in ratty clothes a size to big for him. Looking at this man now, he realized the foolishness of his gambit, and brought his thumb up to his mouth to chew on the edge of his nail as he studied the man’s eyes.

“Its been a while. I don’t know whether they would have remained in the community or went with the Sun’s birth either.” Cleon said, his brow wrinkling as he considered that particular set back. It was far from ideal, but then again he hadn’t expected any part of this would be easy. He looked around briefly, down at the ground, then back up at Alric as he made his assessment.

“How about we work out the details somewhere more comfortable. The air is dry, and I’ve worked up quite a thirst.” Cleon said, swallowing hard before turning on his heel to walk in the direction of the fountain square. Self consciously he became aware of how stilted his movements felt, like he was walking with wooden boards instead of legs and he started chewing on the nail of his middle finger as he passed between several buskers.

He walked until he found himself standing in front of a cozy little establishment with a handful of visitors. According to the sign out front, it was known as Light Up The Night which Cleon considered an odd name for a business, but he didn’t let that hold him back from walking inside. Within it was almost a different world to the one outside so drastic was the change from drab sandstone to the plush interior that Cleon had seldom experience dining at though thieving was a different tale.

Looking for somewhere secluded he selected a cushioned bench toward the back where he thought they could enjoy relative privacy from the rest of the patrons and staff, as much as could be expected in such an establishment. It was not long after they found their seats that a server came to their table and Cleon ordered a pitcher of coffee to go along with a gallon of beer, then waited for Alric to make his own order.

As he bid his time for the server to leave, he drummed the fingers of his left hand on the table, managing to only just still them when the server walked off to fulfill their orders.

“Alric right? I won’t waste your time. I need a message delivered to a relative of mine who goes by the name Farren. Last I knew, she was the servant of a merchant residing in the gated community, or perhaps he had simply been visiting. I’d been given the indication that he had affiliation with the Sun’s Birth before we parted away, but I didn’t have a chance to find out anything else. I am sure that she will still be around and healthy as she is quite valuable to him. Do you think you can do this for me?” Cleon asked carefully, leaning back so he pressed flat against the cushioned seat. Under the table he’d started absentmindedly bouncing his leg as he pulled out a pipe from his trousers and set it gently on the table.

“The message I have for her will not be very hard to remember. I would just like her to know that we are safe where we are. How long do you expect it will take you to get this message to her?” He asked as the server set his order in front of him, and he asked for a dish of sugared nuts before she walked off. Then taking the cup she had furnished along with the pitcher, he poured himself a cup of beer that he threw back quickly before refilling the cup with hot coffee that he took his time about sipping, blowing on it considerably before hand.

The mixture was less than pleasant on the tongue, but that really wasn’t what he was after. His fixation was more a chemical, and psychological ease that came over him at having finally scratched that itch. Speaking of itches, he patted his trousers before withdrawing a small pouch that he quickly opened on the table before him. Digging a trembling hand in through the mouth of the bag, he pulled out a pinch of Syliran tobacco that he promptly sprinkled into the bowl, then from that same pouch he also withdrew a long piece of tinder that he carefully lit on a candle. Then with the pipe at his lips, he held the tender just above the bowl, and pulled the flame in with a sharp intake of breath before trying to wave the fire off the tinder.

When that of course didn’t immediately work, he hastily set the tinder down on the table before bringing the base of his cup on top of it, effectively snuffing out the small flame as he kept the pipe aloft between his pinched lips. In fits and starts, smoke exhaled through his nose. He looked up from the little mess feeling a little embarrassed while trying to take a better pull from his pipe this time. It felt almost meditative filling his lungs, and he slowly released it through his nose as he wiped the ashes off into his palm, then rubbed the mixture out onto his trouser leg before pulling the pipe from his mouth.

His attention was back on Alric now as he inclined forward in his seat, eyes glinting ever so eagerly.

WC - 1,035

[Alric Lysane]

Alric watched the young Cleon with interest, and perhaps some slight amusement, as he seemed to lose his thread of thought at the revelation regarding the Gated Community. As the lad started to chew the nail of his thumb, head looking around as if confused, Alric watched as he became a rabid whirlwind of colours – almost going through the entire spectrum, until settling upon a muted grey for a time…then beginning to shift and fade once more. He couldn’t be sure but from Cleon’s body language he suspected that the grey signalled a form of anxious uncertainty. As for the rest of them…they had come and gone too quickly for his skill to interpret so he settled for the one portion of knowledge as he let Cleon get a few steps ahead before following him cautiously.

From the way Cleon was acting he had confirmed, as far as he could ever be certain, that this was not some Arcadius spy trying to fish-hook him into some dangerous scheme. No, he seemed genuine enough in his demeanour, and his reflected sensations, that Alric’s suspicions were eased somewhat. Sure, he could have been an excellent actor…but he seemed more confused and trying to swim in deep waters without really knowing how to. If he had to guess he’s put miza on this being the first time Cleon had ever solicited others for a job he couldn’t do himself.

As they walked and he kept his senses keyed in on Cleon, largely just to prevent himself from having to let go of the Djed for now and so as not to get whisked away by the myriad other auras surrounding them at the Outpost, he got the scent of…soil…but not farming soil as he had experienced on the odd labouring day for the farms in Sunberth. No…this was more like the tunnels under Sunberth but…more natural? He couldn’t pinpoint it, but he felt sure that whatever it represented the lad had quite the link to it. It was subtle but pervasive…as if it were some faint foundation. It was strange to Alric’s thoughts, but he merely accepted it and filed it away for investigation…should the mood take him.

“Is that the first time you’ve lit a pipe?” he asked, trying and failing to keep the slightly horrified tone of having his enjoyable past time butchered before his eyes, “you can use the smoke from your first pull to put out the fire used” he said, not even mentioning the overly shaking limbs and the fact the lad had just downed more than some of the more careful mercenaries might drink in a bell or so.

He had been momentarily distracted but he could now see that the lad’s aura had…eased…somewhat. Had that been the almost sickly streak he was feeling? Addiction…or overwhelming need? He wondered, idly, if he could confirm that when he next met Bronwen, assuming she still hadn’t cleaned up her act. He spent a few chimes putting together his own pipe, a bit more smoothly than Cleon had, and taking his time so that the lad could see how he did it. His own first draw was quite satisfying, and a small smile crept across his lips at the idea that his own aura might suggest its own sickliness at times.

“I don’t think it should take too long to deliver whatever message you want, so long as this Farren is still in Sunberth. If she isn’t…well then, I can at least confirm that for you…but then no message delivery. I can’t perform miracles,” he said from around the stem of his pipe, smoke curling around his face briefly, “do you know the name of this merchant? What does Farren look like? Anything distinguishing about her to help me find her? When and where did you last see her?” he asked, his tone gentle and calm despite the flurry of questions that might seem like an interrogation.

“And why did you leave her behind? I don’t want to be walking into a pissed off relative who’ll try to stab me without my knowing why. Falling out? Or were you running from something?” he asked.

Truthfully their family dynamics didn’t concern him beyond the superficial, but the more details to the story then the more likely he would be to catch a lie if this was some long-winded trap set for him. He was having his doubts this lad could put anything together properly, but still given his situation is paid to be careful. Curiosity had called him here after all…and curiosity could often work tricky magic of its own.

[Cleon]

Cleon grimaced. Was it really that obvious? He wouldn’t have picked up this habit if he could have helped it. Petch, he wouldn’t have picked up any of them, but here he was, indulging for the sake of sanity. Still, the advice wasn’t half bad provided he could remain cognizant of the fact the next time around. He wasn’t ready to let him know that though so he merely grunted in response, and took another long draw from the pipe. He expressed the smoke through his nose, he painfully resisted the urge to cough though his eyes certainly watered considerably.

It didn’t take him long to drain half the pitcher of beer while the conversation was going on. As he had mentioned earlier, he had a considerable thirst. One that was beginning to make him slur his words as his reactions became slightly more sluggish. Cleon suddenly felt sick to his belly as the mixture settled in his stomach, and he started sweating because of more than just the heat. It was slightly odd feeling both buzzes hit him at once. Almost disconcerting as the world briefly swirled to focus on the man across from him. He took a steadying breath, and decided to give it a rest for now. His sugared nuts had arrived.

Digging into the bowl he started popping one after another into his mouth, barely even tasting them and heedless of what it was going to do to his already upset stomach. He had other things on his mind, specifically the negotiation of this deal. Alric wanted a description of her, and he struggled with that for longer than he should have.

“She’s looks a lot like me, a bit shorter perhaps, with long blond hair and blue eyes. Oh and she’s got a mark of Nikali.” He said almost off handedly, though his eyes were studying Alric intently to see if he might recognize her. Part of him hoped he would, part of him was afraid he would. Cleon didn’t know how he’d feel about either, but certainly not the later. While their parting had been acrimonious in the end, he still did care a great deal for her which was almost equal to the guilt he felt.

“She won’t stab you.” He clarified after several long moments had passed and half of his bowl had been diminished. His stomach had already started gurgling ominously as he again sat back in his chair and belatedly realized his pipe had gone out. He tossed it onto the table in disgust as he started bouncing his foot in an anxious rhythm. It felt a lot like he was losing control of the situation. A familiar and altogether unsettling feeling settled over him with that realization as his eye widened in fear. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat now that reeked of fear.

Cleon chewed his lower lip as he tossed a glance towards the exit of the establishment.

“Look if you’re worried, I can find someone else to do the job. If its more mizas you’re after, tens my limit.” Cleon said somewhat frustrated as his stomach felt like it had flipped over. He clutched worriedly at his gut and he clenched his teeth till the spike of pain had passed.

Looking squarely at Alric he bit the tip of his tongue. “Look, will ten days be enough, then we meet up back here. I’ll give you five gold mizas up front that you can keep whether you find her or not, however I’ll need something of yours to hold onto to make sure you come back. PETCH!” He said, rolling his fingers up into a ball as he tried to arrest his slurring.

When he relaxed his fingers a moment later, his hand had stopped trembling as he looked down at an imaginary spot on the table between him and Alric.

“If that doesn’t interest you, that’s fine too. You can drink what’s left of my coffee and beer. I need some fresh air.” He said pushing himself up from the table where he wobbled for a second as he got his bearings. Feeling the blood rush to his head, he felt almost as if he was about to pitch forward then he caught himself on the edge of the table. Then regardless of his dealings with Alric, he’d leave enough on the table to cover the tab before shuffling for the door.

Outside the rush transformed into a pounding headache as he hastily sought out some deserted alcove to empty the contents of his stomach. He managed to find one, but it was a near run thing as he collapsed on his knees and puked. Petch! He had to remind himself never to do this again.

WC - 795

[Alric Lysane]

Things were getting more bizarre by the moment, he realised, as the lad started to smoke like a seasoned veteran despite his inexperienced, followed by eating what he would consider an enjoyable evening’s amount of snacks over conversation in perhaps three chimes or so. The scent of something sickly sweet, as if slightly off and related to the scent that he remembered from Lys’ leg…but softer and more…seductive…filled his nostrils. He tilted his head, trying to puzzle it out, just in time to see a twisting in the aura, not all over, but just in the few inches closes to Cleon’s skin. The taste of…gods, was that vomit? His lips thinned as he let the magic drop, not wanting to get the sense of nausea when it clearly wasn’t his own.

"I don’t recognise her, from what you say, but if she has a gnosis mark then that’ll make it easier to find her if she is still in Sunberth. Tend to get hoarded jealously,” he said carefully, watching as the pipe was thrown and his hand snaked out to slap atop it, pinning it down and preventing it from falling to the floor, “and I’m not truly worried about my safety. I’ve dealt with worse. I just like to know what I’m walking into” he said, eyes searching Cleon’s face, seeing the tightening around the eyes and the clenching of the jaw.

He was breaking into a cold sweat too…that wasn’t a good sign given what his Auristics had picked up on, then suddenly shouted a swear that caused Alric to lean back slightly, reassessing as quickly as he could. Before he could ready for an attack, though, the lad was mumbling something else and all but running out of the door.

“Well…that was entirely normal…” he muttered to himself frowning into the middle distance for a few moments, wondering whether it was worth following, before realising that he would regardless – somehow he’d stopped being an uncaring sneak thief and become someone who actually cared, and things weren’t sitting right. Besides, if he were honest with himself, the entire situation was so strange he had to know what in the name of the gods was going on.

Pushing himself up, leaving the table’s offerings for whatever lucky soul came across them, he made for the door, stepping out into the light and casting his gaze about for the lad. He found him reasonably quickly, on his knees and puking up terribly. He cautiously approached, wincing as his own stomach turned at the sound and smell of the vomit, willing his own stomach not to turn over itself. He stepped aside as he turned in his retching, though not quickly enough that his boots didn’t get a decent showing of what looked like a half dozen meals mixed together. Looking to sky and rolling his eyes, wondering why the world was so strange of late, he bent down to pat the lad on the back, waiting for him to be finished with all but silent, empty heaving. He helped haul him to his feet and leant him against the wall.

“Alright Cleon, what the petch is going on? Keep your miza, don’t matter to me…but what the shyke?” he asked, speaking directly, slipping into a more blunt Sunberthian attitude for the lad.

“In a few chimes you’ve gone from happy, to cramming the world into you, to snappy and now…gutter puke. Need a healer? I know a place here…used it myself few times”

[Cleon]

It was a far from satisfying purge. As sweat beaded off his brow, Cleon felt as if he was wringing out his guts, heaving until there could possibly be anything else. His mind felt on fire as the tangle of scents and sensations washed over him. After a time the dimness of his awareness brightened as he realized that Alric had followed him out. The man helped him up as he struggled to stand, and balanced precariously against the wall. His vision swam for a moment before focusing on Alric. Blinking several times, Cleon swiped across his mouth with the back of his hand. He gave Alric a warily grateful look, his jaw clinching and unclinching repeatedly.

“What kind of Sunberthian are you?” He asked in response to the man’s questions then grimaced as he started to taste again the inside of his mouth. The top of his tongue felt raw, and swollen while his throat felt unbearably dry.

Cleon swallowed hard as he turned the man’s question over in his mind, and met the man’s stare while shaking his head slightly. There was just to much to process for him to put it all into a chunk he could readily understand. Too much on top of the shite he was already dealing with. Cleon suddenly felt very tired although he really hadn’t done much today to begin with. He considered his position carefully though, and decided there wasn’t much harm in entertaining the offer.

“What did you have in mind? Healer wise? Because I’ve been to the healer at Syka and they couldn’t do Shyke for me or my sister. Best way I’ve found to get by is to occasionally indulge in these addictions I’ve been cursed with.” Cleon said, and started to grit his teeth through the end of his sentence. The anger had bubbled out of no where and vanished just as quickly as Cleon’s body went slack, and his eyes became unfocused. He let out a slow breath through his mouth, and blinked slowly once.

“I don’t know what sort of petching mage is responsible for this, but..” He trailed off, catching a whiff of an idea that wound its way laboriously through his mind as he focused again on Alric. “Say, you don’t happen to know of a weapon for killing mage folk do you?”

He’d need such a tool soon he thought, considering how Syka was practically a mad house because of someone’s meddling. As Cleon entertained the ideas of what he would do to such a mage, a faint smile came to his features as he rubbed at the scraggly side of his face. Then his hand flinched away after it touched upon some dried vomit. Petch he didn’t even have to look in a mirror to know he looked rough.

The showers back at Syka were calling to him then, but he knew it was going to be a while yet before he made his way back there. He still had plenty to do even if he wasn’t feeling up to it.

“I suppose a healer could help, maybe they could point out the source of all of these afflictions.” Cleon mumbled under his breath, then sighed heavily. Nothing made sense anymore. What has the world come to when a perfect opportunity to shank someone gets dropped. Cleon chuckled.

His eyes flicked up to meet Alric’s, steady then unfocused. “I understand if you’ve changed your mind about the job. If you do run into Farren though, could you tell her to come here? I think she’d listen.” He said slowly, walking his way through the words that came hard to him.

“Petch, I could do with something more solid in me after that.” He lied, not really feeling hungry at all. Not the natural sort anyways. Cleon stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets as they started trembling and wondered if he should try a food stall or wait till he got back to Syka. His eyes occasionally flicked over to Alric as he tried and failed to pretend he was not as invested as he was in what the man would have to say. He had a lot riding on this gambit, more than just checking on Farren.

WC - 707

[Alric Lysane]

“The kind that knows they have to stick together…and also that Sunberth isn’t the be all end all of the lands,” he said, his eyes flashing briefly at the recalcitrant behaviour given he was offering to help the lad, “but sure…if you prefer…how about we do this the Sunberthian way then. You’re going to a healer, or you’ll end up not needing one in the dust. Or whatever passes for dust nap here” he said, slipping a dagger out of its sheath with impatient indignance resting it close, if not across, Cleon’s throat. Time froze for a few moments as he met the lad’s gaze, before he snorted and slipped it back into its sheath.

“As for mages…any steel will do. It’s not the type of weapon, it’s getting in close enough before you’re burned alive, I’d think. Besides, I’d not blame mages for this,” he continued, his mind going back to the letter correspondence with the mysterious Tazrae so far this season, “I happen to know that you’re not the only one suffering in your Syka…Sunberthian children…two of them…which means you headed there with another. Oh, the gods petching love me” he breathed with s light resignation.

It fit, he had to admit it. He couldn’t remember if names had been mentioned but Cleon was one of them. He wasn’t alone if the letters were true – a fact he was possibly about to find out – and Syka had more troubles than they knew what to do with if they were. Cleon was worrying about a woman in a far-off land when he was falling apart himself, alongside others. It made him wonder just how linked he was getting with this paradise he had never visited and couldn’t remember first being told of. His life had grown since last year, and annoyingly everything personal about that growth was lost. Or, at least, a large portion of it was. Part of him wondered if he could help Cleon, he’d somehow regain some of it, like a good deed being returned with another. He shook his head at his foolishness, there was no rhyme or reason to his life beyond what games the divines wished to play with it.

“Gods! I hope I didn’t sound like this after I first learned of the rest of the world,” he sighed, eyeing the younger man and grunted in some surprise he had had sense to see a healer already, “so you can think straight when you’ve a mind…good. Well…if you’ve already seen a healer in Syka and they can’t help there may still be hope at the Redynn here…like a massive hospital. Here all the goods in all the lands changes hands, you may find more success, even if it is in…aiding rather than healing” he reasoned, scratching his chin and wondering when this meeting had gone completely sideways.

[i]Seems a lot of things are these days…especially those in Syka…hmmm…strange. I keep meeting people from that place, as well as forgetting them too apparently[/i[ he mused, looking at Cleon with a newer light. In some ways he might be able to call himself envious, the lad had found a paradise after leaving their city.

“Well…lucky for you I’m not the average Sunberthian, and it would be pointless to find this girl for you if you’re dead by the time I get her here to see you. So,” he said thoughtfully, “you say you’re hungry, but I think that’s probably not true. I know I’d not eat after throwing it all up soon before. I’m not that important lad so stop pretending anything. Come on, the Redynn is this way,” he looked around, got his bearings and then set a gentle pace, turning to look at him and spread his arms in an inviting challenge, “unless you haven’t got the stones to step into a shiny, clean hospital of course…lots of terribly scary things there” he smirked, hoping the lad would follow him, it would probably be good for the lad.

[Cleon]

Cleon’s stomach heaved as a cold sweat ran down his armpit. Perhaps he had a point. Cleon eyed the dagger warily as Alric withdrew the blade. Rubbing his throat brusquely, and gritting his teeth Cleon nodded. He didn’t have to see his face to know his eyes were wide with an animal like fear. The small, skittering kind that did its best to keep out of the giant’s way. It was like he was back home, curled underneath a billet of straw, waiting for the moment he would be dragged out into the grimy light. His body was taut, his movements almost mechanical as he shrugged into a resemblance of calm. He thought about running, then quickly reconsidered it as his legs didn’t budge a twitch in any direction. The grating of his teeth felt almost soothing over the raw bundle of emotion that pulsed beneath his breast.

That last tidbit. The one about the children fell down like a pebble in a well, barely making a splash across his features as Cleon was far beyond Syka at this point. He felt almost ethereal. Like he could just step out of his skin at any point to leave this all behind, and yet.. Alric’s face pulled him back like an anchor, grounding him solidly in the flesh. Gradually he was coaxed back from the hard edge of that reality as Alric continued on genially. The world came back into focus a piece at a time. First the buildings, then the people, then everything in between. Cleon breathed out a long sigh he hadn’t realized he had been holding all this time.

A brief, fleeting confusion muddled his features. “If one healer didn’t work, why would I waste my time with a room full of them?” Cleon asked, his tone having regained some of its edge. He felt a strong, but foolish need to get back some of his composure, his pride quick to feel the gap Alric had left. As he turned their conversation over and over in his head, he gave Alric a fresh look, cocking his head slightly as he stared hard. His hands trembled.

“Are you a spy?” Cleon asked, and inwardly what have you done with my sister? It was a jarring, irrational thought that came tumbling out of nowhere to lodge itself firmly in his mind. He took a dry swallow, and looked around to see if this man had any backup. Then working his jaw in a little circular motion, Cleon relaxed his shoulders, letting his arms hang loosely at his sides as he took in a deep breath through his nose.

“You’d make a terrible one if you were. Practically telling me about current events in Syka while saying you are in Sunberth. You’ve got to admit, it is a rather odd coincidence.” Cleon said, and force a short, bark of a chuckle as his eye left Alric’s to look up out of the alcove to some imaginary point on the street before he looked back down at his feet. “I suppose you ought to lead the way. I haven’t the faintest idea where these petching healers of yours are, but I’m not taking any drugs from them, got it?”

Whatever he had expected out of The Redynn, what he found when they got there was not it. He half expected they were walking into an Inn, a very plush one and Cleon began to wonder what kind of trouble Alric was getting him into. Debt was worse than death wherever you went, and if that was his game, Cleon wasn’t falling for it. As his shoes clopped across the stone floor, he steadfastly avoided anyones gaze and eventually sought out one of the cushioned seats along the left hand wall that he promptly sunk into. Fishing out his pipe, he popped it between his lips then stopped himself from continuing any further as he felt a tickle at the back of his throat.

Coughing into his hand, he set down the pipe on the seat beside him and folded his hands in his lap as he looked around the room, trying to ignore the bubbling nausea that was quickly catching up to him in this seated position. Perhaps it was just being indoors again, but Cleon didn’t feel good at all. He felt like he could barely hold himself upright, and his vision was.. Jittery.

Recalcitrant, he looked over at Alric, staring for a moment till his vision had focused. “What now?”

WC - 750

[Alric Lysane]

“Would it make you feel worse if I said I was?” he asked with curiosity, wondering why Cleon had jumped straight to that classification with him.

Cleon was clearly of Sunberthian origin in that he did what Alric was familiar with, in his own way, which was to twist something into a potential negative. Or a threat. He had noticed that as he had slowly removed himself from the city he called home, by inches. He made the decision of assiduously avoid any talk of magic, just in case, but it was an interesting insight into the lad’s mind that someone who knew something more than he did must’ve been a spy. He laughed at the quick recrimination and talk of him being terrible at his job, it was amusing and the tone of airy suspicion he conjured up in Alric’s mind merely added to the dramatis.

“I suppose that would depend upon whether that was my intent, no? Mayhaps I am telling you inconsequential things in order to ensnare you with other, more complicated things…and favours?” he asked the question rhetorically, flashing a smile at the lad before shaking his head, “no…I am no spy. I can sneak pretty good but information brokering…I’ve never needed to put myself into the web of others too much to earn my keep. Safer that way”

“I told you what I thought I knew, I haven’t ben there and so have no proof. Trust…I took it on trust…and you have confirmed it. Which is nice of you, thanks. As for coincidence,” he mused as he paused and turned his head, picking out the way forwards, “I have learned that there are no such things as coincidences. There’s just the illusion of coincidence. I quite like illusions, but some aren’t worth maintaining. I’d start seeing life through the eyes of there being patterns…and purpose. It’ll save you some horror in the long run, perhaps” he finished, picking the direction and threading them through the crowds to get back on track to the Redynn.

It didn’t take too long before they had found, and entered, the Redynn and Cleon had followed willingly – which had surprised Alric if her were honest, but he was happy that the lad had. They both sat and Alric got his pipe out, just to receive a pointed look from one of the many healers. She was one he remembered, and if she remembered him she showed no sign whilst giving the well-practised gaze that stated ‘put that away or there are a hundred tonics we know that can also be used as a laxative’. He put his hands up, put the pipe away and was rewarded with a sniff, another look, and then they departed to perform some miracle healing or other.

“Now we wait…and you tell me about your curse. You are cursed, I assume? Everyone else ive met from Syka seems to be, in some quite interesting ways actually. Because if you can be honest with me, a fellow Sunberthian, then you can be honest with these healers. They might not be able to cure you…but that doesn’t mean they can’t help make life easier for you. Not all help is a full resolution” he suggested softly, looking at Cleon for a few chimes before leaning back into the chair next to the lad and watching the world pass them by whilst he thought, or allowed him to explain.

“So what is it? Started early in the season right? Tell you what, I can trade info for info, if you want…but I am really trying to help Syka. Not that I can actually go there of course…but there are people there who mean something to me. But I need more information for this puzzle. Seen anything in particular that stands out to you? Come on, use those street instincts…they’ve saved every Sunberthian many times over after all”