[IC] Crescent Dagger Camp

[shylarah]

Nikki practically skipped to where those on cooking duty were setting up breakfast. She was technically supposed to be one of them, but she was notoriously hard to pin down, even for a rogue. It was a lovely spring day, with just a hint of mist in the lower parts of camp that would burn off when the sun warmed up a bit more. Far too nice to be stuck slaving over a cookfire. And it was off to a wonderful start. The young woman grinned as the image of a certain face rose in her mind. She'd caught one of the newer sentries asleep at his post, and now his visage was decorated with a thick mustache drawn in marker. It would take a good bit of washing to remove, once he had it pointed out to him.

Unfortunately even the slippery prankster couldn't avoid the sharp eyes of those who kept the camp running smoothly, and she found herself caught with half a piece of french toast in her mouth and dragged to help wash dishes. Nikki's protests did her little good, and she licked the last of the jam from her fingers and settled in to scrubbing under the watchful eye of Crescent Dagger's best cook, grumbling about the sentence.

"It's better than being shut up in a cell," Delshad told her sternly. The giant of a man would look just as at home in the apron of a smith as that of a cook. Framed for a crime he didn't commit, he did his best to make sure the band of thieves had proper food and meals, for a well-fed man was a happier man than he would be otherwise, as Delshad was fond of saying. His face was creased by deep laugh lines and crow's feet, and he was nothing short of a miracle worker when it came to making the most out of whatever supplies the thieves managed to steal. But as jovial as he was, and as much of Nikki's nonsense as he tolerated, there were limits to his patience, and trying to shirk kitchen duties was one of them. "Now get to work, and you'd better pay attention -- no half-hearted washing!"

~~~~~~

Paige had been up at first light, and woken Miry straight away. Winter was up not long after, and the maid bid him good morning as he headed off on his own. Then she had various chores to take care of before it was time at last to fetch her young mistress from whatever pursuit occupied her attention and go for breakfast. The young woman hoped Winter would be back in time to join them. He wasn't always, and while having him nearby made her heart flutter she was nonetheless glad of his company. She could hardly remember a time when it had been otherwise, and had only minor difficulty keeping her affection from showing. Even now, with her lady disowned and forced to live in a woodland camp and among thieves, it would not be proper for a commoner like Paige to even dream of winning the heart of a lord -- a former lord -- like Winter. So she settled instead for cherishing the sight of his face and the lurch of her heart when his blue eyes turned her way. That was all a servant like herself could ever hope for.

"Come, Miry, it's time to eat!" She could smell the morning's bread, and the scent made her stomach rumble. Perhaps it was not as fine as the fare they'd eaten back in Aesiria, but at least true hunger was rarely a companion. They had been lucky to find this place, and luckier still that they'd been accepted. They'd needed to learn quickly how to stay alive but they'd hardly been /good/ at stealing when those at Crescent Dagger had taken them in. Paige loathed theft, liking it even less than fighting, for all that she was trained in the latter. Odd how being confronted with a serious situation makes you realize the consequences of your actions. "I do hope they still have some of the syrup left. It won't last much longer, and then it's back to jam and preserves."

~~~~~~

"Bekka, grab those baskets, while yer 'ere? Yew too, Jasp'r, ya migh's well save me a sec'n trip if'n yer 'round. 'Sides, I can't 'magine ya wanna be anywhere else, when brekkers 's served, eyah?" The quick, chirrupy voice belonged to a redheaded tween, but though the other girl was a few years older both children addressed did as requested. Angie was a respected authority among the 'Cat's Paws, particularly since had solidly trounced a few different teens that had thought to give her a hard time. "C'mon, le's get back. Thankee 'gain, Delshad!" The girl gave a toothy smile to the nut-brown mountain that loomed encouragingly nearby.

"I expect to see you all come to me for lunch," the man replied. "And I expect that the vegetables you are given will be eaten as well as the things you like better. Should I find they have chanced to be stolen from anyone's plate, I will be most displeased."

Angie made a face at the comment, and joined in when she was rewarded with a hearty chuckle. Both of them knew that the girl was far too used to taking what she could get and being grateful for it to ever think of leaving even her least favorite food uneaten, if that's what was given her, but not all of the children were so desperate. That was especially true now that they were into spring and there were once again carts of produce that might be waylaid. Winter was a lean time for those at the Crescent Dagger Camp, and everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief when the first snowdrops emerged from the ground. "'Spect I migh' know 'oo ya talkin' 'bout -- I'll see they 'ear a few words from me 's well," she answered cheerily as she turned to follow the others back to the part of camp that Olyvar had claimed for himself and his charges. "Ain' nobody gonna waste good food 'ere, not if'n I c'n 'elp i'."

[The Grey Dust]

Food.

Sniffing his nose to the catch the scent on the air, his ears perked up as he bounced along the happy trail. Tail waggling side to side as he scampered towards the mess of funny two-legs. They came in all shapes and sizes, some smelling better than others. But they were nice to him and called him a name. Those nicest were the ones with treats to give to him, and maybe a few belly rubs. Two-legs were always fond of petting him, but sometimes they would chase him out because he ate their food. Strange two-legs, why leave good food out if not going to eat it right away? Why not bury food in ground? Spades had many treats, all around camp, but sometimes forget where buried. Spades only remember his favourite spot, it's where he bury most treats, even a few shinies. Two-legs like shinies too, sometimes bury, but sometimes give to other two-legs. Spades could understand why shinies not buried all the time, shinies nice to look at in sunlight. But food is better in belly.

The melting snow made it difficult to dig, and also made the dirt too gummy. Hard to shovel out with paws, and harder to clean. Winter snow as fun to roll around in, but Two-legs not like it if they see yellow snow and yell at Spades. Spades doesn't like it when they yell at him, Spades is a good person, he prefers it when pat his head and say good boy. Or when they throw things for him to chase. Very fun to chase things, sometimes come back, sometimes forget to come back and bury thing instead. Then two-legs upset but Spades show where Spades buried, sometimes. Sometimes Spades like and pretends Spades forget. But then sometimes Spades really forget. No matter, Two-legs have more things to throw for Spades. They like Spades.

So there looking his cutest, or at least trying his best to look cute with his fur covered with bits of melting snow, Spades the camp dog wandered into the mess hall. He was on the hunt for snacks, scrounging around the floor for any missed droppings, licking at sweet spots of syrup and whatever crumbs he came upon. Although he wasn't too keen on eating his veggies, as he pawed curiously at the rolling greens some of the kids tried to feed him as scraps. Even dogs didn't seem to want those veggies. Yet rustling up a meal was never too hard, someone was always generous enough to share, despite the dwindling supplies they had.

Who would be his next meal ticket?

[Sapphire]

Gwen

Gwen stepped out into the morning air and immediately what would have been calm was offset by the usual Camp antics. People off to breakfast, plans being laid out for the day, even some early morning bartering. Gwen was in the first group this morning realizing on the way there she had woken up a bit later than usual, her choices would be slim. Gwen however cared little for that and it slid past the front of her mind quickly. It also just so happened that she managed cross paths of several of the various women, and men, who insisted on talking about her as if she was some harlot. A camp for thieves, not prostitutes they'd whisper and stare judgmentally, never brave enough to say anything to her face though. It bothered them that she never gave them any notice but like so many other cases she didn't genuinely care enough to feel any particular emotion about it. They did their usual thing and Gwen gave them a slight eye roll before entering the breakfast area.

Gwen found the food had been picked over just a bit but there were choice offerings still there. She loaded a plate and sat down alone, one might have thought she might be lonely or shunned or even a pariah but none of those were the case. She neither actively sought friends or kept them either. 'Business' partners were a different story, she even had a growing reputation for being pleasant to work with which puzzled those who had met her. That kind formality and cooperation did not carry into social situations, like meal times, or parties. Gwen might reward the persistent with a good, albeit fake, attitude. However thieves are not well known for their inclination to try hard to make friends. She ate with no grace, shoveling food into her mouth, the elegance of manners was saved for when she was trying to get at a noble man's wallet. Spotting the dog, she slid an egg and a sausage link off her plate and let them fall to the ground, she couldn't remember the damned thing's name but it needed to eat too.

Finishing up in almost record time she deposited her plate in the kitchen, where she greeted Delshad with a nod and grabbed her daily basket of compost. He had been kind enough to set that aside for her, she grew a herb garden every year and the early spring plants would have to go in soon. Naturally she started the fertilizer making process in mid winter, his act did not go unappreciated. Winter was just a bad time for poison making just as it was a bad time for food supplies. She then ducked out of the kitchen and headed off towards the eastern exit, her little garden awaited.

sssssssss

Gadget

The last fires of Gadget's night forge had been put out hours ago and to his dismay he hadn't gotten any time to work on his own projects. It was likely because of the order for 12 throwing knives which were never easy because if you didn't get the balance just right they were basically useless. Along with a couple of short swords and some chain mail he had to finish it had been a busy night. His only solace for the subsequent exhaustion was his 'bean juice.' It was an expensive addiction but it gave him the energy to power through any night. A few ounces was enough payment for any job and his suppliers delivered no matter the season as the beans came from a far away place where seasons apparently did not change and it was perpetually summer. Gadget dreamed of travel like that but like so many other members of the camp he was wanted and trying to get out of the kingdom was difficult when one is a criminal. Gadget had little time for remorse over such things as his clients began to show up, most were picking up orders though he did get a request for some leather upper and lower arm guards. Leather was not quite as fun as metal but work is work and the man paid upfront with some additives for stronger alloys and an lump of what he claimed to be titanium. Gadget knew that it was fake but he took it as payment anyways, after all one could best tell the real thing from the fake by studying both.

After a little morning activity he closed his makeshift store and headed to breakfast, after which he would be awake for only a little longer. On the half of the week that he ran his night time forge he essentially became nocturnal. He'd sleep through lunch and wake right before dinner after which he would take orders until the sun went down enough to start work, winter for him was a productive yet tiring season. This winter he tried to maximize his productivity by having clients write down what they wanted, which was problematic because though most camp residents could read not a lot of them could write well and those who could did know enough about smithing to describe what they wanted. Needless to say the idea died with in a couple weeks of its invention. The whole event was a fresh failure in his mind and one of the more embarrassing ones.

This reflection was also apparently engrossing enough that Gadget realized he was not only at the dining area but also still wearing a smiths apron (which naturally looked ridiculously large on him) and his protective goggles. He lifted the goggles and squinted while his eyes adjusted to unfiltered light, he also tried futilely to get some of the grime off his apron so he didn't look so filthy. Upon the return of his vision he happily found that there was still plenty of breakfast left and he heaped his plate rather high. This earned a stern look from the giant cook but they both knew he would eat it all and it was somewhat fair since the boy only really got two meals on these kind of days. No matter how hungry Gadget go he always tried to eat at a moderate speed, if not slowly. He had given himself too many stomach aches from fast eating to count and paired with the times he had starved as a child before becoming a smith's apprentice were only all the more reason to allow himself to slow down and savor the food after all he may not be lucky enough to do so in the future.

[RomanAria]

Summer Silvershade

Summer stumbled through camp, yawning sleepily. Her dark hair was in a disheveled cloud around her head, mismatched eyes half-lidded. The sun was less than a hands-width above the horizon – why the heck was she awake?! It was too early to be up.

She stumbled sleepily down the path in the vague direction of the cooking area, hoping Delshad might have coffee or tea, though she knew that would be an unlikely thing. Though it would be easy enough to lift a sack or two of tea the next time the group went on a raid…

---

Sunny Rose

Sunny skipped happily down the main “street” of camp, dodging twos and threes of grim-looking thieves. Everyone looked so grim – Why was everyone so grim? There was a bit of warmth to the air, just the faintest scent of green things. Spring was on the way, and spring meant cute things and flowers. And also more food and maybe even some early berries…

She came to a stop outside the kitchens, grinning up at Delshad. She mimed scrubbing dishes, before pointing to herself. She never seemed to turn up on the work schedule and she never quite knew why, so nearly every day she’d come to the kitchens and volunteer to wash dishes, at least for one meal.

---

“Prince” Lucas Caerlight

Prince whistled to himself as he waltzed down the main street of the camp, pretending not to notice the bemused stares and laughs that followed him, jeers at the fragile, dry daisy crown that was settled in his dull black hair or the equally fragile, dry way he carried himself.

It was a good day for the most important resident of Crescent Dagger – the basket of pastries on his arm, given to him by that silly flirty cookmaid, said as much. So now, he supposed, it was time to go to the kitchens and do his dishwashing. He never understood how he always wound up on the cleaning chore rotation and never Miry, but… oh well.

As he walked past the rough-hewn tables of the (mostly-deserted, at this hour) eating area, he noticed something under the table. Nearly every person at camp would have missed seeing the small, dark-haired girl who was curled up under a table, watching the cooking area intently. Probably intending to try and nab food, if her hiding place was any indication.

Prince walked over to the table she was hiding under and knocked on the top of the wood, then put the basket under it. “Good morning, Lady Blue. I was going to bring you breakfast but it seems you saved me the walk – thank you, for that.”

---

Winter Silvershade
Winter had been up with the dawn, naturally, and had bid Emily – Paige, rather – a good morning as he headed off into the woods, dueling sword in hand. It had become an old habit of theirs – he’d go off in the mornings, either hunting or practicing, and she’d always be there with a smile and a soft “good morning”. She was a good sort. Loyal to a fault, despite everything that had happened.

~|~

The sun was well above the horizon when Winter stumbled back to the tent, panting. He’d had a very good practice session – probably ran about five miles, systematically dissected his practice dummy, and done a fair amount of stretching. He’d also gone around and picked up all of the snares he and the other hunters had set – Spring was coming, and spring meant baby animals, and it definitely wouldn’t be good to inadvertently snare babies. Besides the practice he’d also rinsed off in the stream, which was probably the closest thing to a bath he’d get until the summer, when it would be warm enough for swimming.

He hurried into his tent, intent on putting on some clean clothes. He found the underclothes and breeches no problem, but couldn’t seem to find his tunic, despite nearly tearing the tent apart looking for it.

Finally he went to the girls’ tent, not caring that he still didn’t have a shirt on. “Miry, Paige, have you seen my light green tunic…?”

---

Miry Ghostheart

Miry thanked Paige, as always, when the girl woke her up. It had taken months for them to get the routine of it – after they’d left Aesiria, Paige had always insisted on being up before Miry to do her morning chores, and Miry had always refused and tried to wake up earlier, which made Paige wake up earlier. When they were getting up two hours before dawn, they’d finally had an argument that had resulted in the deal they had now. Paige would get up first and then would come and wake Miry.

The girl had dressed herself, casting a longing glance at her old, lovely dresses while she’d fastened the buttons of her no-nonsense gray tunic. All the buttons up to her throat, sleeves buttoned all the way down to her wrists, despite the slightly-warmer temperatures. Sure, it was uncomfortable, but better than people seeing the marks.

She’d gone off into the woods to practice flute – that was what she did most mornings, often trying to mimic the birdsong that echoed throughout the trees at that hour. When she came back into camp an hour and a bit later, ready for breakfast, she thought to stop by the tent to drop off her flute. She walked in just in time to hear Winter asking Paige about a missing tunic.

She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she certainly didn’t expect to be greeted by a half-naked Winter at the door to her tent. She stood there for a moment while she scrambled for something to say, then finally said, “Winter, why do you suppose we have taken your shirt? You are the only one in our party who could wear something that big – Paige and I certainly would not have taken it…”

She made a “shoo”ing motion. “Go back to your tent and find something to wear – it is still wintertime and you will catch a cold being out like that. We will tell you if we find your shirt, however.”

[shylarah]

Angie passed Gadget on his way to breakfast. “Oi, Gadget, didja finish tha’ mod’fied crossbow ya were talkin’ ‘bout? If’n ya did, jus’ lemme know, I’m lookin’ for’ard t’ checkin’ i’ ou’!” The girl didn’t linger over the greeting, only pausing for a brief exchange before continuing back towards Olyvar’s section of the camp with the other kids that were helping fetch breakfast for them.

Delshad didn’t frown too long at the young smith, instead shaking his head. “I will never figure out where you put it, on that scrawny frame of yours, Gadget. But try to remember to wipe your hands first, next time. Charcoal is not very tasty, yes?” The cook too moved off after only a moment, going to bid Gwen a good morning and hand her the compostable refuse. “I know you will be planting soon. Perhaps you and I, or some of the others who know mint from ivy, can go out to find plants for your garden. I have some seeds from last year, but not many. Let me know what works.” His wide grin gleamed white in his dark face as he patted her shoulder. Gwen might not have many friends in camp, nor much enthusiasm for anything he could determine, but that was no reason to be unkind to her.

The next to stumble in was a very bedraggled Summer. No sooner had he guided the young woman to a seat and set a mug of something hot and invigorating in her hands than his attention was demanded by a tug on his apron. “Ah, good morning!” Delshad bent down to scoop Sunny up, lifting her high into the air before settling her on one hip for a hug. “How’s my favorite little sunbeam, hm? Have you eaten yet? Yes, yes, you can help with the dishes, if you like. But not until /after/ you’ve had something to eat -- you’re a big girl, but you need to eat well to make sure you keep growing big and strong, yes indeed!” He started to turn to head back into the main area of the makeshift kitchen, but his finely tuned awareness of all that happened in his little kingdom focused first on a slightly ragged head of black hair. “Lucas.” Dark eyes took in the basket on the smaller man’s arm, but the cook made no comment about what was almost certainly a violation of the rules. “When you’re done seeing to the waif, the dishes will be waiting.” Was that a glint of amusement? He’d turned away too quickly to be sure. “Come, Sunny, let’s get you something to eat!’

The little girl under the table hadn’t been expecting to encounter Prince so early, but she wasn’t upset when he approached her. Perhaps her taste in people was a bit odd, but Bits avoided most of the thieves with a handful of exceptions, and the disgraced noble was one of them. She’d been creeping from table to table, trying to get close enough to reach the kitchen without having to deal with too many of the others. It’d been slow going, though at last most of the early risers seemed to have left. A small hand grabbed the basket when it was set down, accompanied by a glimpse of the intensely blue eyes that had earned her a special nickname from the man. Perhaps a minute later, a mussed head emerged from beneath the table, followed by the rest of the spindly child. She climbed up onto the bench next to Prince, deciding that if he was there then she would eat while sitting properly at the table. The ragged kitten doll she was never without was set carefully where it could watch her eat, and while Bits didn’t sit right next to the man, she was close enough that it counted as sitting with. A shy half-smile greeted him before the girl let her hair hide her face again.

~~~~~~

Paige had returned to the tent while Miry put away her flute, to take care of a few last-minute things. When the flap opened she turned, expecting her young mistress. Not Winter -- and with no shirt! He had a sheen of sweat and possibly river water on his muscles, and in one spot it was dripping down toward -- no, no! Paige forced her face into some semblance of composure, though she was unable to hide the blush that spread across her cheeks. Let him think that it was caused by the unseemly circumstances, nothing more. And then she flushed darker in embarrassment, ducking her head. “Ah, actually...I may have taken that tunic...” She gestured awkwardly to where her sewing kit lay, the missing tunic visible in a neatly folded pile beneath it. “I saw there was a rip in it, yesterday...I thought you would just wear a different one, not try to tear the camp apart looking for it!” The sharp side of her tongue was Paige’s best defense against awkwardness, but it was clear she was quite flustered.

[Blizz]

Mason, who may have been the only person still asleep at this hour, managed to climb to his feet wake up. "*Yawn* The damn sun will freeze before I wake up at a good hour" Mason rubbed his eyes and practically forced them to adjust to the light. He had hoped to be able to get some food still but wasn't placing any bets on it. Mason looked to the side of his bed and retrieved his sword, lying slightly ajar from the scabbard. Mason picked it up, placed it back in and slung the belt around his waist, he could rarely be found without his sword at his side. Please let there still be some food left, PLEASE.

Mason poked out of his tent and aimed for the kitchen, on his way he passed a number of people, some he knew, others he had never laid eyes upon, on his way a few people gave him odd looks and stepped away at the sight of his sword. It wasn't exactly a sentry or guard's privilege to wear a sword, anyone was allowed to, but some wouldn't dare touch a weapon, and Mason respected this so he didn't criticize them for it. Mason had arrived where there was still some food. Winter, you saint. He thought as he grabbed a plate and piled n a few eggs and some sausages. He took the nearest seat he could and found a few people still around. Lucas, some little girl with him (god help her), 'gadget' and a dog. Mason paid no attention to them as he went to work on his food.

In just a few minutes, Mason's plate was devoid of even crumbs, as if it had nothing on it at all to begin with. Mason got up and took the plate to the sink and washed it off before putting it back where he found it and stepped outside, feeling slightly bored. A few more people walked past him, giving him more glances due to his sword. Yes, I am armed in a safe haven, what of it? He wanted to say but bit the words back before doing so. Mason let out a sigh and considered going back to his tent and sleeping, and wondered if someone would hunt him down, Maybe winter or Delshad would, but would he care? Not in the least, He may be young, but not timid or stupid enough to think himself a god. Mason simply started walking and would go wherever in the camp his feet took him.