The First Steps

by LaraCooper Fri Nov 10, 2017 12:03 am

Post Session 1

It was an exhilarating feeling for Mouse to have been involved in a bar fight, and been able to finally use her magic in a practical setting, extinguishing the fire., but the sight of another caster openly practicing magic in the street, the acrid smell of burnt flesh and seeing the charred bodies of the goblins on the stones of The Rock was unsettling. She was profoundly intimate with death by magic, but seeing it openly still rattled her and she wondered if you ever got over paying the price.

When she questioned the half-elf about his training, he was elusive and deceitful. It was fine. They both had their secrets. She followed up by taking statements from several of the witnesses. There was a dwarf cleric who had incredible insight into the explosion. Daryl would want to know that the goblins were armed. Unusual for goblins to have such expensive toys. She was comfortable with the Dragonborn monk and he seemed unmoved when she spoke to him in his native tongue. Apparently all of them were difficult to read behind their stony faces. The drunken dwarf seemed more interested in resuming his exploration of the various ales and wines in the bar next door, and so it was the Halfling she gathered the most from. He was pleasant and chatty and good natured and even extended an invitation to her to visit him at his shop if she had other questions, or just wanted to come by and share rumors. She noticed a quiet and studious looking wood elf tucked away in a shadow who observed them all, but spoke only to the greenish half-elf boy.

It was when the crowd dissipated that the feeling of connectivity with the little band of witnesses ended suddenly and Mouse felt the night press inward on her mind. The Rock was a stone sea to be alone in and rather suddenly she missed the twins and how they would make a game of sneaking in her room without her noticing and sliding under the covers to rest beside her in bed in the middle of the night. She would wake in the small hours of the night and find one on each side of her, like eggs under a nesting chicken. Tonight she would sleep alone in a small wooden bunk at the Blackcloak station she had been assigned to. She was grateful to share the long bunk room with the sounds of a few others who were exhausted from pulling duty during the festival. She kept her cloak pulled about her, trying to not be noticed, quiet as a mouse, and slept.

Fred had been impressed by her night at the festival. There was more to this young girl than first appeared. Yes, she was green, but she was smart and dead accurate with her “out of town” magic casting. Fred put in a word with Constable Daryl who had a real eye and a sixth sense about talent in people, and the Constable made sure that Fred kept her on. Mouse used her guard duty as an excuse to walk the city that should have felt like home to her. She put her observation skills to use and tried to be unobtrusive and everywhere at the same time, near the auction house. She overheard many tips on commerce, rumors of the capital where Tiberious had gone to further his studies and be their representative at court, she heard tales of children who had gone missing, Phoebe’s children, and filed everything away in her mind and how they connected. She reported what seemed relevant and found that Fred occasionally sent her to Daryl to repeat certain bits of information.

She was always finding excuses to visit the Halfling, Vale, at his apothecary shop. She loved the fragrant little space filled with plants and powders and could not resist asking what various ingredients did and how they were collected and cured. She spent some coin buying ingredients and playing with their attributes. She eventually managed to infuse some of her spellcraft into a few ointments and created a concoction of lotion with a touch of the disguise self spell that took ten years off your face and gave you a radiant and youthful glow. Vale tolerated her and they gossiped about the rumors they had both heard and often compared notes. He was kind to her and it made her felt less isolated. The half-elf boy from the bar was sometimes there, flute in hand with Maevdora, the dwarven cleric often in tow. It seems she had taken on a maternal protective role in Hush’s life and was guiding him well in The Rock. He and Vale would sit out near the greenhouse and play merry tunes and Mouse would sit, close her eyes and remember her youngest brother, Richard, who also played the flute with grace and great feeling.

Mouse could not stay at the Blackcloak station at night. There were too many questions about where she was from - too many eyes. She would cover her ears with her hair, trying to look more human than elf, but this lead to other problems. Some of her Blackcloak brothers were beginning to stand with her during shared guard duty, standing closer than any man, save her family and her tutors, had. They were friendly enough, but increasingly more familiar with putting their hands on her shoulders, their arms around her, picking her up and holding her over their shoulders just to make fun of how small and mouse-like she really was. Most of this was just the rough, jovial humor of the people, or a quick pint of Dragon's Lament from the Rusty Sword, but upon occasion one of the men exceeded his brotherly interest. She had been quietly sleeping, wrapped in her cloak, and was shocked awake to find her guardmate, Nate, climbing into her cot and laying his much heavier body across hers. She said something to him that would have shocked her mother and made her father proud, but Nate pressed into her and held her arms down on the wooden frame. A very carefully controlled casting of shocking grasp helped Nate understand his overstep, but Mouse had to accept that she needed a new arrangement.

She rented a small warehouse space, still near the auction house, work, and the town’s hub. She got a bargain on two barrels, and found some planks to put between them for a table. She spent proper money on a huge bed that took up a corner of her space and was her only real luxury. She would lie there at night and imagine being curled up with her sisters, and would weep from missing her family. It startled her when one evening, while playing with some new powders and leaves from Vale’s when a sold hammering on her door, revealed Maevdora and Hush upon her threshold.

“He had some questions about magic and wanted to come see you. Luckily, Vale knew where we could find you.”

Mouse was elated. She brought out what food she had, a bottle of firespice wine and she answered what she could of Hush’s questions. She had studied magic and practiced and still referred to her spell book and it was a small talent and a great deal of work for her to cast spells. Hush, however, seems to cast them more naturally, like it was a gift. He would never say where he learned, and she could feel that he was protecting something. She knew what that was like, so didn’t press him further. Maybe one day they would trade secrets. Hush gave the girls a private performance of acrobatics, jokes and banter. Mouse found his clothing outlandish and his jokes bawdy, but when he sat and played beautifully on the flute, he seemed somehow very different, more centered, quiet, vulnerable, kind. Eventually, in the early hours, when conversation had reached a natural pause, and Maevdora was nodding off, and talking in her sleep about scourges, she offered them harbor. It was comforting to hear the gentle snores of her friends and she slept better than she had since the day she left the palace.

Life settled into a routine, balancing her duties and helpfulness within the Blackcloaks, visiting and being visited by her friends, and expanding her knowledge of magic and herbalism on the quiet nights of being alone. She filled her time. She was careful to not draw too much attention, careful to always keep her disguise self spell handy if she saw faces that might recognize her. She was restless for more. Her explorations of town grew wider and she learned the delicate balance of order and flexibility of rules that made The Rock somehow loosely organized and harmonious. Each person had their part to fill. Still, there were people missing and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. She wondered if her friends could help?