Through the Marketplace (5 Spaces): Plot Thread

[Inkling]

This marketplace appears to be bustling. The sounds of customers haggling over wares and the calls of merchants attempting to attract even more buyers to their stalls fill the air. Brightly colored booths line either side of the main thoroughfare, and items ranging from books to fragrant pastries can be purchased...for a price. The tread of hundreds of shoppers kicks up a fine layer of dust that coats nearly everything. They are packed together closely, but there are several alleyways, off the central path, that provide opportunity for more intimate conversation.

Off to the left, one artery winds through a verdant stretch of common land and it is here that a particularly wise vendor has chosen to ply his trade. He is a purveyor of teas, and the scent from his stand is overwhelmingly fragrant. Inside the flap of canvas, several small tables have been arranged so that customers can rest their feet before exiting to the marketplace beyond. The hubbub of conversation fades once inside.

Feel free to use this thread for any smaller discussion taking place indoors and describe to suit your needs. 5 at a time, please, and be respectful of the time limits.

[Lil Princess]

Still clutching the important letter in one fist, he reaches out his other hand to help steady the girl.

"Woah, there," he says in as kindly a voice as he can manage, "You seem to be in a hurry."

OOC: At this point, I would say that all of us who are going to the marketplace move into the Marketplace thread. :)

Melody looks skeptically up at the man who has just steadied her. His voice is fairly kind but she wouldn't put it past him to not be. She glances at the letter, clinched tightly in his fist trying to analyze it.

"Excuse Sir, it seems you also have somewhere to be of to. My apologies for running into you. Thank you for your help," she says mechanically as she has been taught in her lessons and swiftly withdraws herself from his grasp. Then curtsies and moves aside.

OOC: She's headed to the castle.

[Ephinie]

Raoulin, upon hearing that the girl is from the castle (though this may not be exactly what she said), puts on the charm. He smiles kindly to her and says,

"Ah, well, then, if you are in a hurry, by all means. I was wondering, however, if you might give me a bit of guidance before you rush off. I am afraid I rarely find my way to this part of the town."

[Lil Princess]

Melody looks skeptically at the man as he becomes, even more gentlemanly.

Smoothly she says, "What guidance would you require And how would you know I would even know it?"

[Ephinie]

"I am looking for the post office," Raoulin says. He glances to and fro, up and down the street. "I am afraid I have never been there myself. I have always sent a servant to mail my letters."

[Lil Princess]

Ever the appearance of courtesy, Melody offers to take the letter for him. "Besides, why should such a great lord like you trouble himself with the knowledge?"

[Ephinie]

Raoulin's grip remains firm on his letter, and he holds it back just a tad for emphasis.

"Thank you for the kind offer, but I insist upon mailing it personally."

[Petraverd]

Elsewhere in the castle, Torin wanders the hallways with Caryss in tow. He comes to a door, and he glances briefly into the room before giving a satisfied nod and entering.

The room seems to be used as a conservatory of sorts, though the piles of tomes and sheafs of parchment scattered here and there suggest it serves double duty as a kind of study as well.

"This should suffice for our purposes... this room can be rather full, and theoretically it /is/ open for use by whoever wishes to. There are certain times where its crowd dwindles, though, and we seem to have come across it at one such time... as I had thought. I come by here often enough that I doubt it will raise any brows, either. It is also positioned such that we can afford to leave the door ajar without too much fear of being overheard."

He shakes his head a little. "I suppose you don't need a long winded explanation, though. Suffice it to say I think we can speak freely here for the time being. What was on your mind?"

[Inkling]

Caryss takes in the room with her normal careful observation. Her brow inches up slightly at his confession that he often makes use of it. His choice hints at an interest in music, and she tucks this newfound knowledge about her companion away, since she well understands the attraction.

She paces a few steps, willing her mind to grasp hold of the proper beginning. To buy time, she asks, "May I inquire, my lord, if it is the study or the conservatory which draws you here often enough that our occupancy of this room will not give rise to comment?" The question is polite enough, though she seems genuinely interested.

It will out, Caryss, in the end, and what good does this postponement serve...

[Petraverd]

The archer gives a simple reply to the question, though his ears redden a slight degree. Whether such is noticeable beneath his generally somewhat unkempt hair is questionable, but it does demonstrate a degree of... well, /something/ that generally isn't present.

"Er, the latter, milady... though I rather doubt that was the reason you wished to speak with me?"

[Inkling]

From the slightly upturned corners of Caryss's mouth, the slightly reddened ears have not escaped her notice. It is equally obvious that she finds no reason for his discomfort in the admission, since a slow smile spreads across her face.

"I also have found solace in music..."

It is her turn to flush, her cheeks tinging faintly pink. "You are direct as ever, and I shall meet you with equal frankness. Has it occurred to you that your recent lassitude did not have a...natural origin? I assure you that your pupils were dilated and even your respiration was slower than it ought to have been if you simply became wearied from the spar. That and the faint scent I discerned when I bent over you to ensure you still breathed...they spoke to me, Sir Torin, and the only logical conclusion is that you were somehow drugged with a strong sleeping draught. I make no claims as to how."

Her speech is plain, and she meets his gaze squarely. She is evidently fully convinced that what she says is valid.

[Petraverd]

Torin doesn't even bother attempting to mask his surprise at Caryss's statement, knowing such would be futile. Both of his brows shoot upward, and he furrows his brow a little.

"I must admit such a possibility did not yet cross my mind, despite how unusual it was. In fact, I even now think it a bit of a far-reaching possibility... though you would know the signs better than I. As such, I see no plausible reason for me to dispute it."

It is true, the archer /is/ skeptical of such a suggestion, and yet he knows that he is no expert when it comes to such draughts, at least not when compared to one with the knowledge of a healer such as Caryss. Skeptical as he is, he has no reason to question her assessment, either.

"If that is the conclusion, then I suppose the next question is who. And how. And why. Well, several questions, I suppose, though they are related.

[Lil Princess]

Raoulin's grip remains firm on his letter, and he holds it back just a tad for emphasis.

"Thank you for the kind offer, but I insist upon mailing it personally."

Melody half-curtsies as if in a gesture of submission. "Very well Great Sir, this way. Follow me, M'Lord." Taking the road herself, she leads the Lord to the post office.

[Inkling]

Caryss takes a seat at one of the low tables. Her voice is so low that anyone who might be within hearing distance would pick up only the faint word here and there. Her countenance is grave, befitting the topic.

"Sir Torin, I have only told you what I can support objectively, knowing you to be one who values truth and integrity highly. If you would unravel this, then would it not be prudent to consider /how/ the mixture might have been introduced into your system? It was likely added to some food...or drink, perhaps, that you ingested."

She shakes her head regretfully. "I would I knew the exact composition, but it seems to have acted suddenly rather than by degree, which means I do not believe that we need look farther than last night at the earliest. More likely even more recently. If you discover how, that may well lead you to who...and why."

She colors and looks away. "There is more...I prepare such a mixture often, for the relief of suffering, but I swear to you that I would /never/ have done such a thing to you." Frowning slightly, she orders herself to continue. "And I was asked to make up a sleeping draught, with similar ingredients to what I believe would have affected you so, this morning."

Her eyes meet his once more. "However, I make no accusations...I simply thought you should have all the facts which I can present you with. As for why I come to you with my information, I believe we both know the reason." She sinks back into her chair, the confession having taking a toll on her.

[Petraverd]

Torin begins to pace slowly, back and forth in front of the table Caryss has seated herself at, thinking.

He is silent as Caryss speaks - it is a lot to process, and he needs time to do so. His ever active mind sorts through the various bits and pieces it's just been fed.

Likely added to something I ate or drank... between now and last night. I was planning on having my afternoon meal after I rested from the spar a bit...

At this point, Torin notes his stomach shifting a bit, feeling hungry.

...which would explain that... must have been out a bit longer than I though. Something I drank, well, that's a little harder to pinpoint... though perhaps the more likely cause. I haven't eaten terribly much between now and last night, besides breaking fast this morning.

He stops his pacing at the latter parts of Caryss's statements.

That explains the reluctance...

When he speaks, his voice is low but gentle.

"Milady, you have treated the wounds of both myself and my brother more times than I can count - both the small and the serious. And I can see that you truly work as a healer should - to bring those in need back to health. You have never indicated anything that would even make me consider you might cause such a condition intentionally. You have no worries there."

He shakes his head a bit before he continues. "Even if your hands prepared whatever was given to me, I see no reason to lay blame on you. I do not think you would have prepared such had you known how it was to be used, if indeed it was used in that manner."

He pauses. "Though I must ask... who /did/ you prepare it for?"

[Inkling]

Much of the tension leaves Caryss's face; it is only truly notable now that it is absent. Her logical mind has already followed the path Torin is now pursuing, and she nods her agreement.

"Those conclusions seem reasonable, and exactly where my own thoughts were headed. And I thank you for your trust in me. However, even if my hands did not add the herbs to something you drank, I still feel culpable if they prepared them to be used by another. Who would wish to do you harm? It is far too dangerous to be a prank..." She frowns deeply. "And if your drink was not the only one tampered with, then the situation is even more grave..."

Though she seems distinctly uncomfortable at Torin's final question, she does reply. "You understand that I make no accusations, so I will answer you. Your opponent in the recent spar was the very one who sought my aid. He told me he had found himself unable to rest of late..." Her dark eyes reflect that she is clearly troubled, and, unusually, the mask which usually conceals what passes through her mind is not firmly in place for the moment..

[Ephinie]

Raoulin de Carrefour barely nods to Melody as she points him in the right direction. He turns on his heel and stalks there. After some heated conversation with the postal clerk, as well as the handing over of a large sum of lions, he exits the office again, confident that his correspondence will reach its intended recipient in less than a fortnight.

And now on to other business... he thinks to himself. He is not quite as unfamiliar with the town as he let on to his lacky, and he draws the hood of his cloak far down over his face. He further takes off his rings and hides an insignia on his person that may identify him. Though the material of his cloak is such that is likely not to be used by the lower classes, it is at the very least plain. So one would have to get quite close to tell how well-made it is.

He pushes his way into a seedy shop and asks to speak to a man called Jenkins in the back. The clerk waves him back. Once seated on a wobbly stool, he leans in and whispers to Jenkins what he wants. He also slips the scrap of paper out of his pocket and passes it along. They shake on it.

His business now finished, Raoulin returns to a respectable part of town before lowering his hood and replacing his rings. Then he returns to the castle.

[Petraverd]

Torin furrows his brow a little at the added bit of information he now has. His impressions of his opponent in his last spar are not the best, having seen his less-than-noble style of sparring, and the suspicion that creeps into his mind does not exactly help.

Still, the archer realizes that he has nothing more than circumstantial evidence, and should treat it as such unless something more solid presents itself.

Instead, he replies to the more... personal matter at hand.

"Milady, I was the one affected... and if even I do not think it reasonable to lay blame on you, why should you do so yourself?

"In any circumstance, I shall see what can be done about the situation. In the meantime, we can be glad for the fact only a single man was affected thus far, and... well, I suppose you can see for yourself that I have managed to come out of it without too much trouble."

Though he does not vocalize such, there is still a question pressing in Torin's mind, one that he is no closer to an answer for.

Why me?

[Lil Princess]

"Melody waits in the shadows. When the post master isn't looking she lifts the still warm seal with her fingernail and takes a peak. Then presses it down and leaves.

[Inkling]

Caryss tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and bites her lip thoughtfully. She finally voices what Torin is thinking.

"I do not say he was the one. How could I? There are dozens of explanations which would account for the circumstances. However, I will confess to you...there is something about Lord Raoulin which instinctively frightens me. He is not a man I would trust."

She places a hand over his for just an instant. "And I thank you that you do not hold me accountable...We will need to be watchful. If anyone else in the castle presents with a similar set of symptoms, then I have a duty to inform my superiors of what has occurred. If not, then it must have been directed at you in particular. This, of course, begs the question: /why/?"

She rises and begins to slowly traverse the room and back again, still working through her thoughts.

[Petraverd]

Torin's first reaction is to the fact he suddenly finds Caryss's hand over his. He clears his throat a bit, thinking it not within propriety and wishing to keep such in mind despite the partial seclusion... and yet, his countenance suggests it was not unwelcome, either.

He gives a small nod. "I am inclined to be slightly wary of him myself. Though as you say, the only evidence is that of circumstance. It would do us both well to treat it as such for the time being."

He takes a slow breath. "Why is indeed the question... I cannot think of anyone off the top of my head who might have a reason to do such to me personally. I suppose all I can do to see to things in that respect is to keep my guard up a bit further until things are clearer. And inform my fellow knights of current matters."

[Inkling]

Caryss's cheeks turn deep crimson.

She has not realized, until Torin brings it to her attention, that, out of genuine concern for him, as well as a feeling of the friendship which has sprung up between them, has lead her into acting so unlike her normal controlled self. Her eyes convey the apology which she is too ashamed to express in words.

The fact that his expression hints he was not offended by her gesture, innocently meant, appears to escape her. She increases the distance between them and says, her tone neutral to the point of being flat,

"That is prudent, my lord. I trust your judgment to determine who needs know of what we suspect. I felt I had a duty to speak to you of what I had discovered, and now that you know, you will be prepared for what comes."

She gathers up her skirts and heads for the door with undue haste, her embarrassment evident as she does not look in Torin's direction as she does so.

[Petraverd]

Torin furrows his brow, the reaction elicited from Caryss not exactly his intention.

He allows a small sigh as he bows, noting Caryss's urge to depart at this point. "Thank you for that, then, milady. I shall see what can be done... and I shall keep a careful eye out for myself."

As for himself, he makes no move to depart... just yet.

[Inkling]

Caryss curtsies briefly as she reaches the door, apparently in a hurry to put as much space as she can between them. "That is all I would ask, Sir Torin. Your observation must serve you well as an archer, and it will also serve to protect you as well. I cannot fathom the mind that would have devised such a prank. And if it is /not/ some strange idea of a jest, then there is something deeply wrong." Her expression is thoroughly earnest.

Her hasty departure and quick stride take her rapidly through the hallways. Just outside the infirmary, she is met by a page, who presents her with a sealed parchment in the cramped, spidery hand of Lady Gwynllian, her mother. She holds it tightly, waiting until she reaches the privacy of her chambers before opening the missive.

I wonder what leads her to write me now. What she would think of my behavior, I shudder to think...both pledging myself to Tor without seeking her permission, and then just now. Conducting myself in such a manner. She would /hardly/ believe that I had nothing untoward in my mind.

Her cheeks are still bright spots of color when she passes Raoulin, and she pauses to greet him with a curtsy, her manner clearly distracted.

[Petraverd]

Torin watches Caryss depart, then runs a hand through his hair, trying to sort through all that he's just heard.

The archer glances around a bit, reassuring himself that yes, he is the only one remaining in the general vicinity. As a result, he steps to the door, and pushes it a little further closed.

He unslings his quiver from his shoulder, and produces from it not his bow, but a small wooden instrument, rather like a recorder, kept in an inconspicuous pocket.

May as well take advantage of the fact I'm here...

He brings the instrument to his lips and allows a few random notes to slip out. Slowly he begins to weave a wandering melody, a bit of an aimless (and perhaps somewhat random as well) one as he lets his thoughts drift. Leaning against a wall, he continues his playing, the notes meandering where they will. Though it is fairly easy to tell he is no expert, it is clear Torin is quite content with his small ability regardless.

After a bit of time spent in the solitude of the room surrounded by the notes coming from his recorder, Torin straightens again. He replaces the instrument to whence it came, and strides from the room.

Time to get some target practice in. Goodness knows I can use it... for more than one reason.

[littlgriz]

beuteful storey