Time: 25th,
Location: Carriage and Pinebrook
Attire: Very Light Armor SetFamily Dirk +
CrestInteractions:Mentions:Stratya had a basket of baked goods left over from that morning with her in the carriage. She’d been sharing with Stewart on the ride over. She had been informed that there would be a great many accommodations available at the campsite, and that she wouldn’t need to be prepared to rough it. The news had been somewhat disappointing, but perhaps that was best, as Clearwell had given her a nice stack of paperwork that she needed to put her own eyes and pen on. She’d probably end up doing it just before bed.
She had, however, brought her
zweihander, stowed with a small bindle of personal items and a bow and arrow. Her dirk continued to decorate her hip, and it had been joined on her other hip by her swordbreaker.
There was something specific, as well. A report from that very morning, in fact, while she had been at Drake’s party. It had her own seal on it, so James must have written it, himself. Handed directly to her. Clearwell had discussed the incident with her very briefly, and she’d furnished him with the means to do what he needed, and a fine payment for the aid they’d managed to secure. He hadn’t said much more, only enough to impress on her the need to pay the aid.
The carriage came to a halt and Stratya gathered her basket and bindle and sword and disembarked. The cord rested in her hand at her shoulder, with the basket held effortlessly in her elbow like she’d done it a thousand times before. The large sword was tied up in the bindle cord to keep it secured, and fit well on her back. She had no intention of drawing it just then, of course. If a bear showed up, she could handle it. Unlikely, but possible. As an army officer, she felt responsible for the safety of those she was with. That feeling doubled when she laid eyes on him.
That’s a dead man.The scar at his neck. She couldn’t tell easily if it went all the way around or not. It sure seemed like it did. That was his head on top of that body, moving, speaking, looking. Was he thinking? Or did it just look that way, was he a puppet of some kind? Wait, his head. What had she done with his-
the morgue.
Puzzle this out later. You're obvious when you're alerted.She snapped herself out of her thoughtful daze and excused herself as needing rest from a busy week. Not a total lie. Was she the only one here that would notice? She didn’t see anyone she could confirm this with here, yet. Captain Stratya Durmand felt a familiar dread creep into her mind as she let herself be herded into the pavilion. She leaned herself against one of the support posts, resting her zweihander on the ground and leaning similarly into herself. The basket of bread still hung on her arm.