Frontier - Act One, Chapter Three

[Parrhesia]

The caravel finally reached the dock.

It had been a long voyage, and it was clearly somewhat the worse for wear - the sail was awkwardly patched up in places, and there was damage on the hull. Still, the remarkable new innovation (a Coravic design, but gladly plagiarised by the Brenecians) of shipcraft had weathered the journey admirably.

A tall, somewhat thickset woman stepped out onto the dock, wearing loose and practical clothing. Four strong-looking mercenaries with vicious-looking swords accompanied her, scanning for threats as they disembarked.

They were met at the edge of the docks by a small group of lancers, clad in Charmadian purple and white. "Ho there, and well met," said the captain. "Judging by the ship, you'd be Rachael Bruden?"

Rachael nodded. "Aye, and I'm a free traveller, not a prisoner. If you wish to rush me to the capital, you'll have to wait the night - I haven't slept on land in months, and I'd like to get used to that feeling again."

"You'll sleep on the road, m'lady, or in the saddle if you'd prefer. Your cousin requested your presence as soon as could be arranged."

Rachael stared. "I've never ridden a horse in my life."
The hussar captain chuckled. "You'll learn."

"Nor've my men."

"So will they."

Rachael sighed, defeated. "Fine. Fine. Where are the horses stabled?"

"The east gate. Come on - if we start riding now we'll be there within two days."

Tanith was a welcome sight to the party - the first proper city in Charmadia Rachael had come across. It did carry that patchwork, sprawling, unfinished feel, but at least it bore intimidating fortifications, a large standing garrison and most importantly of all the palace Rachael was destined to join the court of.

Rachael had taken well to the saddle, and soon had managed to keep at the head of the formation, as she felt befit her new station. From a merchant family to heiress - how far the ties of blood could take you in a monarchy. The hussars' captain, whose name was Paul, spurred his horse to draw alongside the young woman.

"How long has it been since you've seen your sister, anyway?"

"A few years, but we've kept in touch through letters. This is my first time outside of the mainland."

Paul nodded. "Aye. Well... care to take a warning?"
"I'll listen," said Rachael cautiously.

"At the Charmadian court, we're basically puppets. You may be a designated heir, and later a countess, to but to any visiting Tascaran you're nothing but an upjumped Dracian merchant in the court of a traitor. And... there's some even in the court who'll think the same."

"What do you mean?"

Paul coughed. "Well... with respect, many of the older members of the court see themselves as loyal monarchists and proud Tascarans, even now. The sort who think this really is just an extension of the homeland. And there's some who don't think that, but they're bitter about what they've lost. So they'll try to press what little they have over you."

"So ... how does a cavalry captain know about the court?"

"How could I not?" said Paul, bitterly. "My father's one of the bastards."

They entered the city unchallenged, and Rachael was struck by the feel of the place - everything felt new, the cobblestone streets felt fresh-laid over the dirt roads that came before them, and the place seemed littered with soldiers - many of them very young, or very old. "The best soldiers all went west to fight the savages," explained Paul. "We don't get enough troops to man all our outposts - Tanith is basically safe from attack, so we get the weakest of the weakest as our garrison. The Royal battalions are the only ones left worth a damn."

"So you'd be one of those Royal battalions, then?" asked Rachael, with a slight smile. Paul raised himself in his saddle.

"Damn right."

"So who are these 'savages', anyway?"

Paul shrugged. "The indos - short for 'indigenous', but I'd swear blind not one in five of our men actually knows that - some of 'em are peaceful and willing to trade and fight as allies. The coastal ones, mostly. The guys in the north are more hardcore, and they're starting shit. So we went to go and bash 'em."

"Oh, good. A taste of civilisation, eh?"
"Right," said Paul, without noticing the sarcasm.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your party made it out of danger faster than you would have believed possible - with one exception. You found one scout nosing around your campsite, rifling through your belongings. However, the last discovery he made about your party was that you had a number of accurate bowmen in your ranks, and you left unhindered.

Dempsey regained consciousness a few minutes into the walk, and as soon as you made it to a fairly secure area you bound his arms and, when he began to swear at you, gagged him for good measure.

It was a long and tedious march, and occasionally you ran into patrols - all, fortunately, with allies. And you made your way to the gates of Chenoworth, Charmadia's bastion of the west.

Chenoworth was setting itself up to be a trade city first and foremost - it was near the best mines of Charmadia, and its healthy trade in silver seemed to be the nation's best hopes to claw its way back from debt. But the soft inner core was nowhere near as developed as the other walls, ringed by keeps and heavily fortified - just eighty days past it had thrown back a siege, the act that had begun the war against the northern tribes, and one that lasted close to a hundred days. Chenoworth Keep itself was built tall, not wide, and leered over the countryside for miles around - a constant reminder of Charmadian power.

You pass through the gates, despite the suspicion of the guards - who are better-fed and better-equipped than you, but recognise that right now questions are unnecessary and unwelcome. So you pass through into the heart of the city - street hawkers and beggars roam the streets, to say nothing of muggers who think twice about approaching as soon as they see the swords and axes at your belts.

You march straight to the keep itself - no lack of security measures taken here. You are, at least, allowed to keep your weapons, as you are after all still soldiers of the crown, but you are kept strictly along the long path to the Countess' hall, veteran halberdiers in plate flanking you at all times.

You are admitted immediately.

Countess Jacqueline Martane is a sad-eyed woman approaching old age, yet still with a quiet dignity befitting her station. She wears the black of mourning, though a younger woman beside her (likely her daughter) does permit herself the sky blue and sable of her house. When Martane finally stares at you, in your dented armour and filthy clothing, she doesn't seem shocked in the slightest - she only seems more comfortable in your presence.

Swindon cleared his throat. "Sergeant Swindon, Y'r Ladyship. We-"

A hawk-faced, lean man with a gash across his face and a sword at his belt interrupted; "Swindon? We were told the man in charge would be 'Anders of Kearney.' Was he slain?"
"He took command at Blackburn Tower," said Swindon, stiffly. "While it lacked leadership, and he was the only man of sufficient rank around. I took over."
"Who is the prisoner?" asked Martane's daughter.

"The brigand leader, mahm."

You could have heard a pin drop.

"Why," asked the younger woman, "is he alive?"

Dempsey mumbled insistently from under the gag. Cliving casually kicked his legs from under him before ripping off the gag, and grabbing him by the hair.

"We get it," said Dempsey, bitterly. "You're a cunt." He turned his gaze directly towards the Countess, who seemed properly to sit and take notice for the first time.

"Yeah. It's me. I'm the guy. And I know things, yeah? But I won't talk if these fuckers are around."
The scarred military-looking type snorted. "We could happily reserve room for you in the torture chamber."

"Would it have these cunts standing around?" asked Dempsey wearily.

"... No, but-"
"Then I'll have a bit of that. But it's pointless, innit? I'll cough all you want anyway."
"A witness has to agree with your statement, however - after all, presumably you must have told them something."

"Fine. But not one of the fucking sergeants. Some plod can stick around and nod when I tell 'em to." He turns, and leers at you all. "Any volunteers?"

[Rothene]

The march was boring as usual. But this time Su San had things to mule over. There was this unquestionably awesome substance that made him fight more fiercely in battle that kept seeping into his thoughts. Sure it made him more exhausted over time but it felt too good.

Unfortunately in the heat of battle, he had forgotten who or what was responsible for it, only memory is the fact that it was triggered by a person.

Then the sight of even better equipment of the soldiers protecting the Chenoworth caught his attentions. There might be a good blacksmith around here, the foreigner thought.

The whole chatter with this countess did not interest the myrmidon, but the mere sight of her daughter did. No less than twice did Su San cast a quick lustful glance at her. Sure there were pretty woman in their retinue, but none of them were not clad in richer clothing thus the countess' daughter appeared exotic to the large man's eyes. Even the word 'torture chamber' failed to catch Su San's attention, or perhaps he did not know the word other than in his native tongue.

Su San considered volunteering, if only to etch the countess' daughter's image into his mind a bit better. There had been far too many lonely nights for a man fated to be in a the same group as a person as pretty as Alexander.

Speaking up, Su San tapped his chest asking, "You want volunteer?"

***

Kirsten did not like marching, she did not like the great outdoors and she did not like the fact she was not getting any research done with all the movement. She also hated herself for needing rest and sleep, those activities tend to get in the way of her studies.

The architecture of the fort left much to be desired at first glance. In her mind it was big dumb and stupid...but then, she realised she was following the wrong train of thought. She should be considering what sort of mixtures could level the walls quickly, and then what would prevent such mixtures from working. Only a fool of an alchemist designed something they cannot put out.

Not interested in the interrogation, Kirsten asked Swindon not too softly, clearly not too familiar with military terms, jargon or even rules, "Sergeant, permission to explore the city?"

[Nanami Touko]

Marching was the one thing Sherry couldn't stand the most in life. Her lungs weren't the best and neither was her stamina, but at length they made it to Chenoworth. Sherry glared at a few of the thugs that glanced their way as they continued to march towards the keep, wondering if she'd get to amuse herself by cutting one down, had they tried to take anything. They didn't, and she grew more bored. Her mood stayed that way until they made their way to the presence of the Countess who once bathed in the rejuvenating blood of a hundred virgins, and Dempsy provided some amusement. "I'll do it," she said, plainly. "Need something to keep myself entertained and if I get to see you stick him with something while I 'nod while he tells me to'," she added in a mocking tone, "I'll at least get something out of it."

----------

The march had been rather troublesome for Arin. Normally he'd have enjoyed such an event, as it kept him in good health, but his leg has pained him the whole way. If not for Bekka's aid at times he felt he would've collapse along the way. Alas, they had made it to Chenoworth, and it was a palatable sight for his sore eyes. "Wonderful, the bastion of Chenoworth. A lovely keep, to be sure. Not ever set foot in it, myself, but it seems far better than the dredge I'd been in before." No one else seemed in a mood to chat, so he kept quite until they were at the keep itself, only muttering during the trade of 'wits', "she's not a cunt, you're just a blowhard." He would've offered the position of eardog himself, if Sherry hadn't said anything. It would probably be best for him to get off his leg, in any case.

[Shin]

Feran had been in a foul mood for the entire journey, foul enough for even knocking a birds nest out of a tree not to help vent his frustrations. By the time the group had returned to civilisation, he still hadn't been able to regain his composure, opting to pass on the visit to the torture chamber. Normally it would have been very much his holiday destination of choice, but he found himself unlikely to be satisfied with merely watching at the current moment.

[scorri]

Bekka shrugged with a slight frown as well. "I'll pass, thank you very much." Turning to Arin, she raised an eyebrow. "How about we find you somewhere to rest off that leg, ok?"

Ten meanwhile stood quietly with a scowl on his face. The same scowl that had been on his face ever since he found out that his assignment to the group was far more permanent than he had first hoped. He wanted to be back at his old fort, not stuck here in some city at the whims of nobility.

[Xinnidy]

Barth was pretty glad his fever passed before they went back, it was long and definitely straining. And he wouldn't want to feel sick on top of that. Most of the rush he'd felt from battle had gone, so he was impressively calm and composed.

The keep caught the man's eye as they entered, and he took some delight in looking at the armor of the veterans in there, it was eye candy for the man.

He managed to stay quiet just fine during the discussion, but the matters certainly had his attention. He was very curious to know what their prisoner had to say, but also curious about the Countess in black. The Count died recently, huh? He held his pendant of Theodora for a bried moment. She was the goddess of harvest, sure, but perhaps the land would find a way to honor his return to nature.

Ultimately, his atention turned back to the prisoner as the call for a volunteer happened. Two of the group had alredy volunteered, but he didn't like the liberties that were being taken. He had joined as a mercenary as far as he cared, but maybe they'd trust his competence. He took a small step forward. "I wouldn't mind going, either." He calmly observed Dempsey.

------------------------

Inge's stamina was far better than he thought, and he found little complaint in the way back. Though he noticed it wasn't the case for some others.

He wasn't very happy whenever a mugger seemed to approach the group, but thankfully they had second ideas after a while. Morons.

The meeting didn't impress him much, but it was far less intimidating than the halberdiers left behind, for sure.

The countess did not look in her best shape for discussion, or at least dressed such, but life sucks alright. Her apparent daughter pressed on why they'd brought a man alive however, curious. Inge started to wonder if he could find some people with loose tongues around.

Things turned out to ask for a volunteer, but Inge sure as hell didn't feel like it. He stood silent and took a glance around instead. That young scout still had some trouble with his leg, must have been worse than Inge dismissed it as, oh well. He also looked at a woman addressing the sergeant to leave. Can't even wait for us to be dismissed? Well, I guess it won't take long anyways.

[Oersted]

Normally Hash didn't mind marches all that much, though that was when it didn't hurt to simply take a step. As painful as it was, Hash had his pride and was determined not to inconvenience any of the others, miserable as that made him. When they arrived at Chenoworth his first thought was that one of his Molotovs would do next to nothing against the outer wall. As they walked through the streets he found his hand idling by his shiv on the off chance some jackass thought it'd be funny to jump him. Though it never happened Hash chalked it up to the rest of the group's presence and made a mental note to be careful if he decided to roam around alone. He took no interest in the keep nor the discussion and simply waited for permission to leave.

[eclipse]

Mary had her own way of dealing with street thugs - she kept her collection of prickly-but-otherwise-useless plants within easy reach. She couldn't help but smile as one would-be pickpocket screamed upon laying hands on a sample of a particularly spiny plant. During the audience with some noble-or-other, she did her best not to yawn. I'm a healer, not a politician! Naturally, she kept silent when a call for a witness was announced. She hoped they'd be allowed to leave soon - she was getting hungry.

[Parrhesia]

Swindon sighed. "Fine. Those as want to stay ... the rest will leave. Y'r Ladyship." He knelt before the Countess, and left. Cliving stiffly bent his own knee before turning to leave, fuming.

When the party had left, Su San, Sherry and Barth remained - the former, granted, with his attention mostly distracted by the cloth-of-gold seams of Meredith Martane's bodice.

Dempsey sighed. "Well, then. I want to make it perfectly clear - I tell you somethin' you can use, you give me cash and a house somewhere decent."

The hawk-faced commander glared. "You're asking a lot. It's time you started earning it."

Dempsey ignored him. "So me, I'm just a mercenary captain, yeah? Lead heavy infantry in the First Claim. Even fought back in the Civil War - on both sides, mind, but me and this fuckin' country go right back to the roots. And you know what? Your shithead generals decided, you know what? Fuck paying us. Stretch us as far as we went - then let us walk. The fuckin' savages weren't gonna pay us - what were we gonna do, switch sides?

"So we left - which I fuckin' stand by, okay, and that's all this was at the start. So me and my mates hung around the south, roving, picking apart a couple outposts along the way for sport and the cash we was denied. And that worked. We got our revenge, we got more than what we came with, din't lose that many along the way. That's where I wanted to end it. So we went south, most of us.

"First contract we found headin' south was a winner. 'Cause this big shot Camenican senator says he got somethin' for me. Bernician-lookin', name of Duntroon. Said a Camenican patrol picked us up raiding the border - said he liked that sort of thing. And if we happened to keep doing that kind of thing... well, we might find ourselves with Dracian gold and Bernician steel, and that ain't something I pass up."

"Have you got any evidence of Duntroon's guilt?" asked Meredith - who Su San's appraisal found to have small, dark green eyes, full lips, a strong-boned face and fashionable straight hair cut at shoulder-length, a fairly slender build compared to most Selarians and possessed of more than generous hips.
"Duntroon was smart, but he don't cover his tracks well. Catch him away from business and he'd be blazing up the fuckin' poppy tears. Found him unconscious in a den, nicked his signet ring. Sewed it into the end of my scabbard. Anyway, he cut out on us near the end. First it was the equipment - so we had to loot outposts and take what we found, t' equip all the new blood what joined us. Then he wanted us to get more ambitious. The attack on the Tower was never my plan, but if I'd refused he would've frozen our pay. We would have been right where we fucking started."
Dempsey shrugged. "So fuck Duntroon. Fuck Camenica. You want blackmail, you want an invasion, this is some 'case for war' shit right here. You got leverage. What are you gonna do with it, that's your call... but I want my bastard whore daughters in Tanith back, and I want to be well away before I get thrown into more shit."

Cliving glared balefully behind him, and punched a wall. "Crucify the fucker. That's what we should've done."

Swindon sighed. Cliving turned his ire on the fellow sergeant. "Oh, yeah, you just keep fucking sighing - me, I done what I can to keep the fucker honest. He ain't got backbone left to lie."
"You sure about that, Cliving? You real sure about that?"

"'Course I -"
"Yeah you're always fucking sure, aren't you, no fucking room for-"

"I will literally fuck your face-"

Rill sighed and walked away, hanging close to Inge. "So... I guess this is the big city. ... I wonder how the people back at the Tower are doing? Guess it might be too late. Still... we can deal with that later, I suppose. Let's make the most of our time here, hm?"

You find yourself free to explore Chenoworth. Presently you are Downwaters - home to the poor and roving packs of soldiers and mercenaries, who toil under the forbidding keep itself, yet gated from it. It contains a Blacksmith, an Armoury and a Bowyer. There is a Military Apothecary close by, as well as the Temple to Cassandra, goddess of prostitutes, and Temple to Basileus, god of soldiers. There is also a Pub, Martane's Voice, situated near the Keep itself. You may try to enter Highwaters, the rich end of town, the other end of the as-yet-unnamed river flowing through the middle of the city and into the moat. And as ever, you may simply go Fishing For Rumours (roll d20).

Edited March 16, 2014 by Parrhesia

[scorri]

Bekka paused and then quietly walked up to Swindon. "Uhm, sir, can we talk please?"

[Parrhesia]

With great patience, Swindon broke away from Cliving. "What is it?"

[Nanami Touko]

Sherry sighed. This hadn't been as interesting as she'd been hoping for. "If it matters, he didn't put up any resistance when we knocked all his goons out. Either he's a coward, or he really does just want this to be over with. Not sure which I find more certain." A small craving for a smoke started in her mind, though she wasn't sure if that would be considered 'court' etiquette.

----------

Arin hobbled up behind Bekka. "Sergeants, please. This isn't a time to argue over something like that. I am sure that the countess will see to it that Dempsey faces severe charges for his actions against the crown!" Piping himself down a bit, he then wondered, are we going to get paid? He would've voiced his question had either of them seemed more calm. "Ehm, I'm not sure what Bekka has to ask, but I was just curious; there wouldn't be a better place to get my leg looked at, would there? I'm sure it's in for a change of bandages. I'd rather not get it infected."

[scorri]

Gulping, Bekka stammered out nervously, "Uhm, er, sir, we were told that we were going to get paid and, uhm, I'd like to make sure my equipment is up to standard andyouseemedlikethepersontotalkto..." Bekka trailed off as she cringed away from Swindon and Cliving somewhat, hoping that their anger wouldn't get directed towards her next. Arin had asked about his injury and she hoped that this would distract them from her.

[Parrhesia]

Cliving grunted, and fished a small book out of his pack, ripping out sheets of paper. "Here. I done and signed these in advance. Hand 'em to the Paymaster's Office here and they'll fork over the cash."

Each one says, more or less, that you served for a week unpaid and deserve hazard pay on top of it. Cliving's writing isn't pretty, but it's impressive enough he's capable at all. His name has been signed roughly in the corner of each - while you're uncertain of the paperwork involved, this looks kosher enough.

(It will be assumed that everybody hands in their pages before purchasing any items or leaving the city - each is worth 25 coins.)

Swindon, seeing Cliving dealing with it, turns to Arin. "Yeah, kid. Dempsey's... whatever. Get to the military apothecary, it's a damn sight better than field work."

Back in the court, Meredith Martane shrugged (to Su San's pleasure). "Surrendering against helpless odds doesn't overshadow his brigandry. But we have valuable information... and he did not have to give it up. Could have fled south, after all."
She turned back to her mother, expression slightly despairing. "Mother, were we to take his hand, I am sure-"
"Yes, yes," said the Countess, distractedly. Her voice was still strong and deep, despite her age, and she spoke naturally from the chest rather than the throat. "Do as you will."

Dempsey gritted his teeth. "Fine. Right. Just give me what I want."
"Certainly," said Meredith, cordially. "We keep our promises."

Edited March 16, 2014 by Parrhesia

[Nanami Touko]

To Sherry's pleasure as well. And this talk of taking hands was beginning to make her choice to stay far better. "I meant nothing of the sort, he deserves whatever he gets fer his betrayal, and all that. Figured I'd add it just t' add to his truthfulness, or whatever. Someone wouldn't give themselves up just to lie, not with, like you said, escape possible. At least not this guy, he doesn't seem like the brightest candle... I mean he doesn't look like th'type to have a plan, or something." Sherry coughed. She felt her hand reaching for the match and tobacco in her pocket but ended up stopping herself.

----------

Oh, so it was pay! Arin smiled a little. The thought of being able to purchase something was a welcome one. He'd had, at the best of times, pocket change, before tagging along. "Right, the military apothecary. Sure thing, sergeant." He set aside the kid comment. If he continued to prove himself, surely they'd see him as an adult, eventually! "What are you going to do, Bekka? I won't lie, I've begun to enjoy speaking with you. Though I can't imagine tagging along to watch someone fix a bandage is on the top of your priorities."

[scorri]

Bekka shrugged. "Don't really have any plans I guess, now that Sarg here cleared up the money thing. Only got this gold, so probably don't actually have enough to get anything useful now that I think about it. My armor really cost me and this place is fancy. So sure, why not?" She glanced back at Swindon and smiled at him too. "Should we expect to be meeting up anywhere specific sir?" Now that some of his anger had seemingly gone away, she was more comfortable again around him.

Ten took his money and headed straight to the armory. Strolling in, he glanced over the available goods.

[Parrhesia]

"Sure, kid. No plan at all," growled Dempsey. "I took a single demoralised regiment through half the south then came back to be your most credible military threat in the south with my only reinforcements being deserted militia, clearly the fact that I eventually lost means I am a drooling fucking imbecile."

"Guards," said Meredith quietly, "detain the man."

"Take my left hand," said Dempsey casually as he was forced away by guards. "It's the sinful one, after all. Fingered hookers with it. Disgraceful conduct, I'd-"

The guards shoved him into a hallway, pushed him to the ground, and one closed the door behind them. Hard.

[Parrhesia]

Swindon shrugged. "Stay the night at, uh..."
"Martane's Voice is pretty cheap," chimed up Rill, "and probably has the rooms available. All the mercenaries are deployed, after all, and that's its usual guests."

"Right, uh, yeah," said the sergeant, caught a little off-guard at the prospect of the short young prostitute continuing to actually be useful. "That works, I guess."

[Parrhesia]

'PEGGY' CALLUM

A peg-legged veteran in his thirties manages the shop with the help of his wife and daughter - he sells good gear from his time abroad, and speaks highly of Baharese equipment.

Studded Leather Armour Light, 2 AC, 30 crowns

Brigandine Light, 3 AC, 60 crowns

Light Chain Medium, 4 AC, no initiative penalty, 50 crowns

Lamellar Medium, 5 AC, resists crushing, 80 crowns

Splintmail Heavy, 6 AC, 60 crowns

Banded Mail Heavy, 6 AC, no initiative penalty, 75 crowns

Targe Buckler, 4 Evade, 25 crowns

Adarga Buckler, 5 Evade, 40 crowns

Kite Shield Shield, 7 Evade, 35 crowns

Heater Shield Shield, 8 Evade, 50 crowns

Talk Cheap

Refitting 15 crowns

[Xinnidy]

Unlike the archer, Barth was quite intrigued at Dempsey's confession. The part about the Camenican senator sparked the mercenary's mind into projecting the situation. He found himself slightly nodding to the man in the end... then the whole part where the guards took Dempsey happened.

"Should take some more things if he's so worried about these conducts." Barth scoffed. "Told a little pretty story, though. Wouldn't mind entertaining that." He then glanced at the two that stayed with him. The archer seemed a bit unquiet, and the fighter seemed like he had his eyes set elsewhere every good while. Were we really the best people to be sharing this with? Probably not.

---------------------

Inge shrugged. "They're doing just as fine as if we stayed. Might as well make the most of it, indeed." He turned to face Rill. "You seem to know quite a bit about this place, though. More than I do for sure. What would you recommend?"

Edited March 16, 2014 by Xinnidy

[eclipse]

Mary was more than happy to leave that. . .unpleasant bandit to his fate. Though she was hungry, the presence of the Apothecary piqued her interest. Alright, it was this way. . .

[Parrhesia]

Rill shrugged. "I've not been west that often, I just pay attention to what my friends said about the place. I do know the good part of town is Highwaters, though - they even built a theatre up there." She glances around. "Doesn't look much to cheer about this side of the river, for sure."

The Apothecarium is staffed at the front by a large man - at least six foot eight, and powerfully-built - with an impressive array of equipment behind him. The small area certainly only makes up a small part of the building, judging by looking at the place from the outside. You can hear distant shouting from behind a nearby door. He seems almost to unfold when he stands to greet you.

"My name is Khaled, friend. What do you need?"

[eclipse]

"What do you have for sale, sir?" Mary asked, as politely as she could.

[Parrhesia]

The man leant back down into the chair. "Ah, a fellow apothecary, I see. Eager to learn from Bahar's scholars? Well... I might suggest visiting the source. Here, we have nothing special - bandages for the wounded, soporific nightshade to dull pain. But the front has moved on from us - we will fill your packs, if you lack for supplies." He rang a bell, and when a small, nervy blond man entered from another room.

"Hark, fill the young woman's packs."

The man nodded, took them and left, presumably into the storerooms.

"And now we wait. He is a well-meaning lad, but his sight is poor, and it may take him a time to find what you desire. At least it gives us some time to chat." The man chuckled quietly. "So what brings you here, anyway? Did you come from the front, or from the east?"

[eclipse]

"I've come with a mercenary group, from one backwater base to another. They aren't the best at dodging things, so it falls upon me to keep them patched up," Mary said conservatively. Actually. . .which way did we come from? "I've also heard something about a 'jungle fever'. Sounds nasty, and it would be rather bothersome if it hit the more populated areas. . ."