Chapter One

~ Beginnings ~

It was a cloudy morning. The narrow streets of Huronsbury were thick with people and there was an atmosphere of grim hurry in the air. The formless mist that covered the roads and narrowed the visibility down to a few feet made one weary, and so folk was bustling about rather hastily to get matters done and escape this loom. The stone buildings left and right were of the same color as the faces of the people in the streets that hurried on with their business. The odd dog barking in the distance was the only thing that sounded over the mumbled murmuring of the crowd and the dulled down hammering of the blacksmith seized early on, its owner knowing that this would be anything but a fine day for work. The damp sound of feet on earthen streets was swallowed by the mist just as quickly as the odd cough. No laughing of children was to be heard anywhere; even the young ones would rather stay indoors on days like these. The castle looming over the city with its thick, white walls was reflecting the light rather poorly today. Usually a sight to behold, the marble towers seemed to suffer more under the fog than anything else. The thick grey streams of water and air were lingering around the windows that gleamed from the candlelight within, echoing the warmth. A soft rain started drizzling down.

It was in an inconspicuous place near the city center that our story began. In a somewhat open space between houses, there was standing an inn that was in no way unordinary. It was a wooden building, two storeys high and with a chimney of dark brick that appeared to be a little crooked. In front of the inn there was an open space a few feet wide that made for a little front yard in between the many houses and shops all around, with a small well and a tree next to it strengthening that impression. Over the entrance door there was dangling an arm long copper sign that read < The weary woolhorn > in large friendly letters, with an etching of a woolhorn with its thick, long fur covering it’s body and eyes, and the typical bent horns that arched over the entirety of the impressive animal’s back beneath it. Inside that inn, just past the front entrance, there was a cozy space filled with tables and chairs that was bathed in the warm lights of many candles on the walls, warding of the dull atmosphere outside. Two bards were playing a jolly melody that was just loud enough to fill the room but not intrusive enough to hamper conversation. Around the table and chairs, not many people were sitting, but the ones that were appeared to be travelers from far away, with thick cloaks and many bags. Indeed was this tavern known for its hospitality towards strangers, and many a wanderer coming through Huronsbury was directed here when asking about for suitable lodging. Conversations were more lively in here than out on the streets, and the occasional laughing did not feel so out of place here. The sound of cups clinking and mouths chewing was accompanied by the occasional squeaking glasses being cleaned by the innkeeper standing behind the wooden bar.

At one of the tables, in the far corner, there was a man sitting wrapped in green and brown clothing. He seemed a little out of place, for only the thick, grey cloak and the backpack next to him spoke of a wanderer, while his appearance spoke of a minstrel. Even more so, the wooden lute of red color that was resting next to him was a clear sign of his profession. The man did not look up. He was bent over in concentration, many a sheet spread over the table and ignoring the handful of people distracted in conversation. He was scribbling something at the bottom of a page he had unfolded, and his eyes were fixated on the task. Spread across the sheets the words “disappearance”, “people” and “abduction” repeated themselves, and on the top paper there was a drawing of a young, beautiful woman. Who could this stranger be? And what was it about with his concentrated scribbling? Only one way to find out.

Ade was broke.

And not the broke that rich merchant's wives say that they are, the type of broke where they have to perhaps not eat out one night, or maybe not buy that new dress imported from the Southern Isles. No.
Ade had literally zero coins in his pouch. There was no metal there. Nothing. Nada.
Which was why he was stuck sitting in an uncomfortable wooden chair by the fire, instead of hiring out one of the rooms on the top floor. He'd been in the inn since last evening, spending his last few coins on a paltry meal. In all honesty, his meal (scarce as it was) was too expensive for the five coins he had put on the table. Ade figured it was his way with tavern owners that got him the meal, but he couldn't stay off their charity forever. They were already sending shifty looks his way, as if they imagined he would make off with one of their china bowls from the porcelain cupboard or something. And, even though Ade was no thief, his situation was pretty desperate. He might just take the chance and leg it.

And then, at some point in the early hours of the morning, a man had entered the inn, and gone to sit in a secluded corner. There wasn't anything overly surprising about this: people went in and out of the inn all the time. But something about this man made Ade look. As he sat down, Ade caught the glimpse of a lute, and immediately became excited. Down back at home, music was a massive part of their culture, and people would play at any chance they got. Ade figured that if the man was a wandering minstrel, he might know some songs from the South, and the mere thought of hearing a piece of home again emboldened Ade to get up and introduce himself to the fellow.

The man was studying a roll of parchment extremely thoroughly, and so didn't seem to notice him until he was standing right above him.
'Hello there!' Ade said, clearly but not overly loudly. He didn't wish to startle the guy.
'You're a wandering performer, I gather, from the lute. I was wondering- and I hope I do not impose too much- if you knew of any songs of the South, or even any tidings from the coast?'

Alicia found the morning beautiful. Despite the rain and mist and fog and general gloominess of this particular morning, she still loved it. She was in full daydream mode. The few people around her and morphed into blurs and blobs as she walked past them on bare feet. She had taken off her traveling sandals and put them in her pack just so she could walk barefoot in the mist. Her pristine white hair was almost sparkly with wetness. She wore a blank expression on her face and her mouth lolled open slightly as she strode through the grey and winding streets. She didn't even know what she was thinking about. Alicia was several layers deep in her own thoughts about her current situation. The first layer had been about her first impression of this new town and it was half-finished being thought through like a meal sitting on a table half eaten. Thinking about that had led her to stop eating her thought-meal and open a book about her first impression about the new hold she had entered a few days past. That was her second layer. Though, as with all of her thought-layers she had soon tired of that one and become distracted with another; where she was going in this particular hold. So she set down that thought-book, leaving it open and freely flipping between pages as her consciousness drifted around in her own mind, examining small trinkets and humming to itself.

All the while people shot odd looks at the beautiful yet dreamy girl walking barefoot on an overcast morning dressed in a mixture of upper class and strange wanderer's attire. However, dreaminess cannot fight off the weather (except in rare cases involving Alicia, Leylines, and magic) and so Alicia shivered in the cold and back into reality. Her small nose was red with cold and her clothes were sticky with dampness. Her consciousness was in shambles, the shiver was like an icy hand that had pierced its way into her mind and forcefully pulled her back into reality. She sucked in some breath and took a look around. An inn. A Blacksmith, Some houses. She turned on the heels of her feet, observing what was on either side of the road in which she was currently standing in the middle of. A bakery. A closed shop. No wait a clothing shop. Another house. None of this was any use to her- Except, wait wasn't there an inn? She whirled around on her bare feet and faced the inn. The Weary Woolhorn it welcomed. How droll. She parted one of the doors and entered as quietly as possible. It looked....much like a regular tavern. There was a soft tune being played and idle conversation drifted through the atmosphere. Her eyes saw past all the distractions and straight towards the goal: The corner table. Well not quite the corner table. Two men had already taken that from her, but she would settle for the next one over. Alicia glided through the inn and sat at the table and immediately began fiddling with the small candle at the centre. Finally she settled on it being at the other edge of the table. With that out of the way, she took off her pack and set it on the chair next to her, then she laid her staff so the top was across her lap and the bottom was across her pack. Truthfully she hadn't thought this far ahead. She was still half thinking this was a dream and that she was still out being rained on in the road. Food? Rumours? What to do...

Hally was started to get tired, Anais realised, even as she drove the well-trained, dependable horse onwards through the mist the mares speed had begun to drag slower and slower, the smooth corded motion of the creatures powerful form beginning to jolt and sink from exhaustian. Anais sighed softly to herself and brought the horse back to a slow trot, recognising that such consequences were, without any doubt, due considering she had practically driven the poor beast as if the earth was falling behind them all the way from Stowerling. Hally released a loud harumph, tossing her head back slightly and Anais fought the urge to roll her eyes beneath the sodden weight of her leather hood, leaning forward and clapping a firm, gloved hand against the horses neck.

The horse ambled down the street, her hooves a sure clip clop against the cobblestone of the road, and as Anais pulled herself back into her seat she peered as best she could around her, through the mist and the soft rain that had decided to make itself known shortly after she passed through the gates of the city. The small, flickering lights of candles that shone through various windows around her offered some form of respite from the gloomy weather, but the scene that looked the most welcoming was a building with a tall crooked chimmney just a little further down the road,where a lantern hung on the front outside, swinging to and fro slightly, and beackoned through the mist. Anais adjusted herself in the seat, a twitch of a grimance flashing at her lips when she again felt the sharp, annoying pain of the saddles sores that had sunk onto her behind over the past three days riding. She hadn't had a bed since she'd left Tarnton, and had either slept at the side of the road or not slept at all, so it would be more than nice to sink into a full and comfortable mattress again, she could even sleep the entire day if she wanted to...

Anais tipped her head backwards, and lifted her eyes from the welcoming warmth of the Inn and up towards the looming enormity of the castle in the distance. She frowned slightly before dipping her head forward, giving a soft kick to Hallys flank and pushing the horse towards the Inn, deciding that she would at least get a room for herself and shelter for Hally, before proceeding to make the walk towards the castle before settling in, making it just in time for Morning Audiences.

Tying Hally to the tree stood outside for the time being, Anais made a brisk walk towards the Inn door, taking in the sign that displayed the establishments name as she pulled back the entirety of her hood, letting it fall to slap wetly against her back. Bringing a hand to the door, Anais pushed it open and walked into the Inn, feeling the warmth of the place wash over her almost immediately, making her even more mindful of the damp tracks she was likely dragging into the place, as well as the drops of water that cascaded down the back of her leather cloak, dripping onto the smooth paved stone of the entrance.

Striding forward into the tavern of the Inn, she smoothly skirted around a white-haired woman and made for the polished, wooden fixture of the bar. Elbowing her way in between two travelling folk Anais leaned both hands on the bar, looking over her shoulder to cast a short but calculative glimpse around the room, before leaning forward more purposefully on the surface to attract the barkeeps attention. Beackoning the barkeep closer Anais listed her requests in a curt, firm tone, "I need a room, likely for one night, as well as a stable for the black mare tied to the tree outside."

May shivered. After a few hours of walking in this drizzling rain she had become completely soaked. Although she wore light clothes which suited for long travels, the rain had doubled their weight making it much harder to move around. With every step her feet sobbed inside her boots. She must have looked quite poorly, but fortunately no one was paying any attention towards her, everyone minding their own business. She also was feeling very cold. She was used to low temperatures having grown up in the north, but this was another kind of cold.

A man she met on the road to Huronsbury spoke of a warm and lighthearted atmosphere, but this place seemed to be the complete opposite, which made her wonder if she even was in the right place. Not that she had any destination. She was just wandering from place to place without a clear goal, but the prospect of a warm and safe place to sleep persuaded her to check it out.

Perfectly fitting between the different houses and shops the tavern "The Weary Woolhorn" arose. A small front yard was separating the lodging place from the street. A black horse was tied to the single tree within. From the inside of the tavern laughter and singing could be heard creating a completely different setting than the outside streets. May opened the front door and entered the tavern embracing the warmth on her body.