Names were being thrown at her as she stood in front of the Seer. "Whore!" one called out, "Put some damn clothes on you tart!" another slurred. Niana turned and hissed. Force of habit. A poncho was offered to her by a man next to the Seer. Niana shook her head but didn't say anything (although it's not like talking would come easily for her, years of solitude and no one to speak with will do that to a person.) As quick as a forest cat the Seer snatched the poncho and draped it over Niana, who squirmed and was obviously discomforted by the sudden covering of her body. The Seer began to speak, he or she commanded quite sternly that Niana not leave his or her side until their appointed strand of interwoven fate was unwound. The feral girl's eyes shifted uneasily to the Shaman biding his time at the side of the Seer. Suddenly, a command that made her blink in surprise. "Now speak." The Seer had said. The words were there, floating in her head, filed ever since she had first heard of the seer coming along. My family was murdered and I need help finding those responsible is what she wanted to say, but it was like there was a disconnect from her brain to her mouth. She focused herself. Her human voice came out, forming words as a child might, just learning to speak. "F-fam-ily.." She rasped, "Murdered..." It was all she could say. Painful memories flooded back. Ones she had been suppressing for so long. The faces of her family, her sister, her mother, her father all floated in her mind like three hot brands. Angry tears welled up in her eyes, full of emotion, raw like someone who had never learned to cage their inner feelings. Though tears added a gleam to her tanned skin, she did not break eye contact with the Seer.

"F-fam-ily. . . murdered. . ." The shaman watched with some measure of interest as the Seer worked its magical power. It was strange. Though this wild-woman and the seer had just met already the power of that mystic seemed to be subduing her. With a simple worded command the dark-skinned woman was brought to the verge of tears, then, at the explanation of their source they fell unreservedly. The whole scene was more than shocking; had the seer known these things would happen? Why else would it be here? It must has known, through some intuitive power, that the people of Crosshaven had been in need of its guidance. Truly the shaman was left in a state of perpetual awe. But then the realization of the situation hit, the gravity. If what the wild-woman said was true then that might mean there were still such men within the village' confines. Foremost as a healer the shaman had an interest not only in the welfare of the village but also its safety. There was no way of telling how long ago the murders had happened. Argo longed to speak up, to question the woman, to find out the truth. Instead he remained silent. The way her tears fell, he felt that saying something might only causing further harm. He would do as the seer had instructed, he would watch and wait, listen and learn. Although he was distressed by the pain of the wild-woman there was really nothing he could do for her, he did not know her or anything about her. No. The best course of action would be to see what the seer did, to follow its advice and pray to the gods for a positive outcome.

Lucas scooped up the various coins placed on the counter while scrambling to pour drinks for all who asked. All the while he was carefully watching the bar around him for anyone who was more rowdy than he cared for. For a more or less packed tavern, things seemed alright. Thankfully, the nameless fellow had taken a poncho and threw it over the skimpily dressed woman, people nodding in appreciation around her. One of the two merchants looked like he was trying to hold back laughter while the other looked upon him disprovingly. As conversations swept through the bar, finally it seemed, Lucas knew why so many people had flocked to the Niirborhood Tavern. Apparently, The Seer had wandered in to town, and more than that, right in to Lucas's own tavern. Lucas himself rolled his eyes at this, thinking that the people of Crosshaven had a little more sense than that. The Seer was a story, that's all it was. No one like that could ever exist. As Lucas continued to look around the tavern, he noticed the white haired girl was making a fuss, crying and looking very upset. Argo was also not looking very well either. Between them, the nameless fellow stood, emotionless as ever. Lucas frowned slightly and decided to incestigate. He shuffled down the bar, serving drinks as he went. "Excuse me, Argo!" He leaned over the bar and called over the other noisy voices to the only person he really knew in the group. "Everything alright over there?"

Rhys looked to the bar seat beside him and slowly pulled himself up to sit on it. He watched the barkeep attempting to catch his eye but to no avail. He was tired and very hungry but he had to keep writing in case he missed something important. Pulling out the same sheet of paper from earlier he continued to write. 'Made it to the village of CrossHaven and found a tavern which many people seemed to rush to. There may be something big going on here. Could I be in the middle of something wonderful? Trying to order some food and drink and then will attempt to find lodgings. There are many strange people here, all of them are so different and I hope to make more new friends, if I make it...just a jest...or not' Rhys chuckled to himself, he knew no one else would read these entries so he made funny jokes to himself for when he would read them back later in life. Rhys began to think, what would he do with all these entries, he had over 700 entries each as meaningless as the last. They were everyday things where nothing exciting happened, sure it was fun to write them but would they be fun and full of memories when he read them back. Rhys needed some adventurous events to happen to make it more interesting, to make him more interesting. He was a traveller with a boring life. Last week his was in a lively village and what did he do, spent most of the days sweeping a shop floor, cleaning in a tavern and grooming horses. Sure it was his way of earning money to travel but what if he found a job that was more exciting and actually involved interacting with people or something more meaningful, just something better to write in his entries so he wouldn't feel like he left his old life for nothing.

The Seer appeared...disappointed as the mystic looked into the girl's eyes. Having gleaned all the information that was necessary from her eyes the Seer turned from her to focus on finishing eating and drinking. "Revenge is it...not a motive we have any high regard for, all that breeds is hatred and malice." The Seer took another large drink of the honey-wine and smacked its lips a few times in contentment. "Despite these misgivings, fate has dictated this meeting and we shall see this through." The Seer reached into its cloak and brought forth a spool of white thread and unraveled a strand about a yard in length and cut it off with a fingernail of all things. "Thread of Fate Reveal the path to take Connect the strands Reveal the plan Decide our fates Before time dictates" The Seer repeated this chant as fingers danced across the thread, leaving behind bows, loops, and knots as they went on. Soon the long strand was now looking quite irratic and utterly random. By the end there were three distinct segments that could be seen, one had more knots than anything else, the second had several bows and frayed edges, the third had a single loop and the just ended abruptly, the end torn off and broken. The Seer stared at the separate segments with a thoughtful expression, then handed it over to the young shaman. "So which of these three paths would you take?" The Seer asked and continued to finish the meal which was almost gone at this point.

Taking the spool reverently from the Seer, Argo did his best to try and discern the differences between the three threads. He'd had some practice in the arts of scrying, though his ineptitude in such matters was plain before him now. To him the spools seemed to represent different paths, each one twisting and entwining itself to the others, each contributing towards a common, if confused, mass. "Forgive me Seer, but I can draw nothing of importance from it. These strands seem to represent the lives of various people, though how they interact and what will become of them I cannot say." In a way, Argo felt that he was already failing. Something as simple as this first task had clearly shown his training to be not up to the task at hand. Still, he couldn't let that deter him from future venture.

Twisting over the massed threads in his hands, Argo's eyes once again turned to the fellow mystic, offering a question. "If the Seer does not mind, I would like to know what they think of it?" The shaman's hands offered the twisted web of threads back, fingers guiding the clump back onto the table before the Seer. Perhaps if he knew something of the Seer's methods it would be easier to determine the proper way to answer the problem.

As the Seer decried her dreams revenge out loud, Niana felt a wave of defeat wash over her. Her shoulders slumped. If she had cat ears they would have drooped. A fresh tide of tears came out and made their way down her already wet cheeks. Her family would never rest in peace it seemed. Their souls would be doomed to wander restlessly, justice eluding them. The feral girl wanted to storm out of the stupid human building and go running off into the wild, where she truly belonged; but for some reason she remained in front of the Seer who was doing some magic with a string. Not that Niana could understand any of it. She looked at the man next to the Seer. He smelled of herbs and spices. Some sort of shaman perhaps? It didn't matter. Niana grasped her knife around her neck with both hands and shut her eyes, trying to stem the tide of tears.

A cloud of dust began to settle over the cobbled path as Fredrick came to a halt outside the stables, the groom whom was a young boy by the looks of things, stared dejectedly off into space.

"Boy. See to it that my horse is stabled and fed." He commanded, dismounting from his horse fluidly, handing the boy the reigns and a couple of coppers, before quickly pushing passed him to get to the tavern entrance. The young fellow sneered at his back, and spat on floor, somewhat disgruntled from being awoken from his daydream, but Fredrick paid him no mind.

He had quickly heard talk of the seers location, and so had half of the town supposedly from the din of noise that was coming from within, carefully he opened the doorway and pushed his way through a group of people that had amassed around one of the tables. Many eyed the sword on his hip suspiciously, others went so far as to challenge him with disapproving stares, it wasn't common for a man to walk around armed in a small town like this, and had this been some other day he might of even taught a few of them some lessons in respect, but no, his mind was focused solely on the seer. And if it isn't the seer? The question skittered across his thoughts. Perhaps just some pretender? Another one suggested, color rose up his neck at the remembrance of his haste, a flaw that his master had once said would be the death of him. Pausing for a second behind the last wall of onlookers, he pushed forward, quickly taking in the scene before him.

An odd girl, scantily dressed, beside the poncho she wore, stood before the table. Her eyes tightly shut, perhaps hiding from the looks she was earning from some of the patrons, looks that were far more threatening than any his sword had received. Her odd dress style at least drew eyes away from his own. The young town shaman was contemplating pieces of thread in front of a stranger, confusion painted across his face, as he offered them back. So this was the supposed seer, doesn't look like much. He wondered, crossing his arms across his chest, he decided to watch and contemplate his next move. Oh wouldn't you be proud Master. Here I am finally exerting patience and careful thought. He thought bitterly as he waited for the supposed seers reaction, doubt held reservation in his mind and he was beginning to regret having acted on a rumor.

The Seer stared blankly at Argo for a moment, then suppressed a small chuckle. "Well you're honest I'll give you that." The Seer picked up the mess of thread and waved it around for a moment. "You know what these mean?" The Seer pointed at several different locations seemingly at random. "Absolutely nothing! We literally just made up that bunch of hogwash to see if you had an ounce of brains in ya! If you had tried to figure out some deeper meaning from this batch of worthlessness we would have booted you out for being a fraud. Still, you did at least guess at the meaning we were trying to convey." The seer then unraveled the thread on a whim, somehow managed to get rid of all the loops, knots, and even frayed edges making the thread completely whole again, back on the spool in the Seer's cloak.

"As for you girl, stop being on the verge of tears!" The Seer turned back to Niana with great purpose, as her eyes had been closed that allowed the Seer to lightly pinch the young woman's cheeks between it's thumbs and forefingers and gave her face a quick stretch and suddenly had hands to the side as if nothing had happened. "Just because we do not personally approve does not mean I won't help. In any event they should be brought to justice, in that fact you will find no argument from us; however we do have more pressing matters that may take my attention from the task of tracking them down. Also be thankful that your thread of fate just so happens to coincide with one we need to follow." The Seer then glared at one of the newest onlookers who happened to be Fredrick.

"That look of careful examination does not suit you." Then the Seer made a parting motion to the crowd. "Make way, we already have what we came here for." He/She was going to take a step toward the exit and into the crowd when the Seer turned around to make sure the food and drink had been finished. Seeing that it had all been devoured and paid for, the Seer said "our compliments for the food and honey-wine", took Niana by the wrist in a firm but gentle grip, then promptly stepped into the crowd. It was a curious thing that happened next, those in front of the Seer just felt the need to step out of the way as soon as the Seer was near them. A few tried to resist but did not try hard enough and before the Seer could plow into any of them they stepped out of the way. It was kind of like seeing a magnet that repels metal being pushed through sand. Those who nearby felt like the Seer should just not be touched, those that tried to touch Niana as they passed suddenly felt as if an icicle was pressed against their spine and that shock and sudden fear made sure she was safe.

"If you are coming then come," the Seer directed this to Argo and Frederick, not through sight but a sort of voice projection. "Otherwise go back to your ales and beers. We are quite busy." Before two more shakes of a stick they had already made their way out the door and into the street.

Lilliannah stopped a moment. She had been traveling for three straight days without rest, and it started to wear on her. She pulled back her hood just enough so the breeze could make its way past her forehead. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she took a deep breath. "Finally, I'm here", she muttered softly.

Despite the hot sun beating down on her, she was covered from head to toe. Her dark brown tunic seemed to be made of a fine cotton cloth, sturdy leather padding on her elbows and shoulders. Heavy, black leather bracers covered her forearms up to her elbows. Plain, dark brown cloth pants are held up by a black leather belt, matching her bracers, and lined with a few pouches and other oddities. Brown leather boots, a shade or two lighter than the rest of her clothing, reached just past her knees, straps and buckles folding the leather over on the outside, secured them in place. Fixing her hood to cover more of her face, she continued towards the town.

It was late afternoon. The sun would set soon, perhaps an hour or so, casting shades of orange and red over the fields. It was her favorite time of day, for a few reasons. She would make it in just in time for supper. Food and a comfortable bed would make for a nice way to end this long and tiring journey. Crosshaven, it was called. Quaint and quiet so far. Farmers looked to be finishing up their daily chores in the fields as she passed. Families filing into their houses for dinner.

Stopping near some gossiping street loiterers, she asked where the nearest tavern was. "The Niirborhood Tavern", they replied happily enough, "just a little ways more up the road, you won't miss it". They quickly returned to their gossiping, which Lilli heard a bit of before she turned to continue in the direction of the tavern. Talk about the 'seer' made her snicker. "It's all just a bunch of hocus pocus", she muttered again, low enough that the loiterers wouldn't hear, I'm sure just another fraud, or perhaps even nothing at all. Though as she neared the tavern, goose bumps ran down her arm, a chill up her spine, her stomach turned. She pulled her hood just a bit farther over her eyes. She stopped a few yards before the door and took a deep breath. I'm being silly she thought to herself. Her intention was to continue into the tavern, get some food, a hard drink to settle her stomach and a good nights rest finally.

Arman knew what she was doing was wrong, but that didn't mean she was going to stop. She had been an interested watcher of the episode in the tavern, since Ray wouldn't need her till this evening, so she had decided to follow along behind. A good story to be gained? She was so there.

Ray had once said she thought way too much about stories; her every waking thought, when not about food, was stories. Sure, she was probably being just a little over-focused on the one subject, but that was how she worked. No way around it. When the genderless 'kid', whom the other boy had called "Seer", had started heading out holding the girl she lept off her stool and scuttled out the door ahead of the small party. Striding away from the tavern she tried to look confident, like she was doing nothing wrong. She slipped into a small alley across the street from the tavern, waiting to see where the others went. Hoping she wasn't being stupid, was this crazy? yes probably. Should she be doing it? No probably not. But none of that was going to stop her. This was the most exiting thing that had happened for a long time there was no way she was missing out.

Lucas sighed as Argo ignored him, watching the nameless one leave with Near-Nudey Judy in tow. The one pulling the wild girl offered for anyone else to follow them, and although he felt a gravity of interest towards the curious personality, the tavern was packed, and somebody had to run it. A new woman entered as the two were leaving. This girl was dressed head to toe in a dark tunic, pulling a hood over her head as she entered. Lucas managed to get a look at her face before it came in: She had beautiful red hair and bright blue eyes.

Those same eyes seemed to be cast in Lucas's direction. He smiled at the new woman and motioned her over to the bar for a drink. As he did, he smoothly swept up coin left on the counter, replacing some with various drinks, poured and mixed at a brisk pace. As he served his eager customers, he caught sight of one of the salesmen getting up to leave. Lucas quickly made his way to the other one to inquire. "Your colleague's seems interested in that fellow, huh?" He asked. Before he waited for an answer, he shot down the topic and decided to talk about business. There was a short gap of time for him to talk, most of the tavern-goers plate's and glass's filled. "So, you two are spice salesmen, hm? What have you got in stock, my good man?"

Fredrick ran the ball of his thumb against the hilt of his sword in quiet contemplation. He had felt... something. A sudden shift in his soul as the Seer took their leave of the tavern, was this what it felt like to be called by fate? And yet he found himself frozen, affixed to the floorboards beneath him, the last remainders of his doubt crippling him in it's attempt to steer his course away from this strange figure. His foot crept slowly ahead of him, soon followed by the other, as he reeled forward like a drunkard, just managing to catch his step before he collided with the newly entered patron.

"My apologies,... madam." He managed with a quick half bow, swiftly moving toward the door, throwing his shoulder into it as he burst out into the street.

The Seer and the girl with the look of the wild about her, were but feet ahead. A being of legend, naught but a few feet in front of him. Oh, how his old friend Simeon 'Lucky fingers' would have killed to be in his place. That fool had always thought himself destined for great things, it was a shame that he wound up with his own blade through his heart as Fredrick had pried it away from those, what turned out to be, not so lucky fingers. He blinked away the memory, before turning his gaze on the Seer, dealing with them would be as dangerous as dueling with Simeon had been that day.

"And what part do I play into all of this?" He asked carefully after them, as another question burned in the back of his mind, begging to be voiced. Ask nothing of the seer, owe nothing. He reminded himself soothingly, fixing his face with the placid stare that he wore ever so well when at court. Far better than a look of careful examination. He thought begrudgingly.

Though Lilli didn't know it, she had passed the Seer on her way into the tavern. Her pale blue eyes glittered as she walked through the sunlight, her gaze was fixed on the ground in front of her, never looking away. Whether she caught the groups attention or not, she didn't notice, nor did she much care. She wasn't here to start trouble or attract any attention. All she wanted was to do was settle the grumbles of her stomach and the aches in her feet. Everything else could come later, if it was to be.

The tavern was bustling with business. And apparently the recently departed group had caused a bit of a stir. One man nearly plowed right into her as he tried to catch up with them. It took a moment for her to get her bearings, her gaze lingering over the crowd for a moment, taking in the many different people enjoying the the company of the tavern and its goods. Finally, her eyes settled on the bar keep and an empty spot at the bar. He motioned her over.

She slowly made her way through the crowd and to the empty seat. The bartender seemed to be busy with other patrons of the busy establishment. Was he here by himself?, she thought, and glanced around the tavern hoping to see someone else who looked to be working here. To no avail, the gentleman helping the salesman was the only one about. She tugged at her hood, pulling it off her head and released her braid from the confines of her cowl that now draped over her shoulders. She already knew what she wanted, but she couldn't help but gaze over the backdrop of liquors behind the bar. This place must be doing well for itself, she murmured, her gaze floating over to the bartender once more. She was hungry, her rations had ran out about a day and a half ago. A strange sound crept from her stomach, like the growling of a hungry beast. It didn't matter what they served here, she was hungry enough to eat nearly anything they had, and probably everything on their menu.

Her calloused hands sat gently, folded on the hard surface of the bar top. She could be a patient women if she had to be. Business came first, it always came first. Her face turned sour as a thought crossed her mind. A yawn escaped her, with it, the sour disposition quickly disappeared.

"Indeed," The Seer responded rather indifferently to Frederick's question about what part he would play in the upcoming events, "that is a question worth asking. We have not the slightest clue except that we know you will play your part." The Seer turned to its rather motley crew and blew a strand of hair out of way. "My senses tell me that we should find the answers by following the murderer's trail, of course a lead is needed in order to start this venture. As the brigands got away without any trouble all those years ago no doubt they have become complacent and lax. Still they are not stupid if they have yet to be caught so the best course of action is to find the middle man, the person who helped coordinate their movements in the past by providing information."

The Seer said all this with absolute certainty, as if because it was said it was so. "Now to aid in the search, if the young miss perhaps has a token, a remnant from the attack, we can use the item to attempt a path finding. It is not guaranteed to work of course but could provide us a valuable lead. Otherwise some old-fashioned investigative work will be in order."