A bard in time saves...

[Metarie]

Metarie continued to plait Lanya’s hair as she listened to the woman’s story.

“Your bird? Yes, that would be lovely.” Nimble fingers pulled strands into neat weavings as Lanya spoke. Metarie noted the crack in Lanya’s voice. That was the sound someone made when they had lost something or someone important to them. Metarie had heard it many times over the years as a healer.

Occasionally, Metarie would give an “Ah,” or “Mhm,” to show that she listened; except for when Lanya said the word “drow.” This was a derogatory term in her language used for those of her kin who had chosen to devote themselves to more sinister dealings. At that term, Metarie’s mouth became a thin line and her eyes narrowed for a moment. Metarie’s said, “Hm.”

“That was an interesting story, Lanya.” Metarie’s voice held the note of interest. “I suppose your story has a lesson to be learned as all do.” Metarie’s fingers stroked over the finished product of her handiwork, making sure she had not missed a strand here or there. “There is often something good to be found from things that are often unpleasant.” How typical for her race to say such a thing. “I am glad you were able to make such a friend.” Metarie chose to leave Flame’s name unspoken by her for now. That low tone spoke volumes - care and another deeper story.

“There! I am done.” Metarie patted Lanya’s shoulders gently with her hands. “I am not sure what to do now...” Metarie gave a little laugh. “I usually do solitary things, like read a book. You are welcome to read any of them, if you would like. although I may have a game or two we can play.” Metarie thought about this and scooted off of the couch. Crossing over to one of the bookshelves, Metarie pulled down an oblong shaped box. Bringing the box to the table, she placed it on the table. Metarie sat beside Lanya and then opened the lid of the box.

[Lanya Caliope]

Raising a knee to lounge comfortably, the bard shook her head at the offer to read. It wasn't a lack of interest that made her refuse; she would love to be able to sit and rest while enjoying a story that unfolded within her mind. But she had been born and raised a peasant, and the fact was simple: Lanya did not know how to read.

She raised a hand to her head to feel the elf's work. It was tight enough to hold the braid but loose enough that it didn't strain her scalp. Very well done for someone with no sisters to practice on.

"Thank you, again. I can't begin to repay..."

A loud chirp interrupted her statement as Flame alighted on her bent knee. Lanya tilted her head at her small friend - pet, she reminded herself - and whistled a tune. The bird immediately joined in, weaving his robin's voice with her own to create a lively folk song. After several seconds she stopped and drew her lips back for a happy grin. Flame chirruped and hopped around on her knee to spread his wings and bow to the elf. Lanya just shook her head, though she felt nervous. She wouldn't be able to stop the bird from showing his intelligence and could only hope the healer was as kind as she seemed.

"A game would be lovely."

Lanya dropped her leg and adjusted herself to face the table, intent on the game but still distracted.

"What can you tell me of this city? And the captain?"

[Metarie]

Metarie gave a little shy, pleased smile and looked to Lanya as Lanya checked Metarie's handiwork. Metarie's eyes, seemed luminous, for they sparkled as she spoke.

"I have no siblings, but I work often with the children at the hospital. Things like this," Metarie gestured with an unintentional dancer's grace at the space between them, "These moments of simple companionship and humane behavior are more precious a gift for their hearts and souls than any other gift another could give." Her comment could have been a reply to Lanya's regarding repayment of some debt Lanya felt she might owe. Metarie's gaze drifted to the side as she thought about the children who made it to the hospital for care. Many did not make it that far. Metarie's eyes closed for a moment. She would have to go visit the Shanty town,too, to see what could be done. As she thought, though, Lanya and her bird whistled a little tune. The song, too, lightened the heart even if only for a little while.

Metarie's eyes reopened and she smiled at Lanya. "I have cards." Metarie opened a box containing a deck of cards. The cards were so well decorated each picture on the reverse seemed a beautiful city truly alight with fireflies, yet at one with the forest around it. The face cards wore elfin faces not human, while the number cards used a slanted and flowing script. "We could play any game you know, although I should admit I do not gamble."

The next game held a box with a board made into it. The board was stitched with pointed stripes alternating in color from cream to brown. The board's interior was made of soft, tanned hide. Round flattened circles were made of well-shined, slightly heavy river stones. Five exquisitely carved bone dice were also inside. "I rather like this one. It is a game of strategy and luck."

The final game was also a board, marked with many multicolored squares of light blue, pink, dark blue, red, and tan. Within the box on top of the board was a bag filled with equally exquisite carved bone letters. These could be seen because the bag had tilted slightly, spilling some of its content into the floor of the box. Metarie by-passed this game, taking the time only to scoop the letters back into the back and tighten the bag's laces. Lanya had studiously avoided looked at her at the mention of reading, therefore Metarie felt she should not push the matter further.

Metarie pursed her lips and looked up at Lanya. "What do you prefer?" Lanya's next comment caught Metarie a little off guard. "The city? The captain?" Metarie gave a slight sigh.

"I can tell you want I see and believe, but my truth may not be yours..."

[Lanya Caliope]

Lanya ran a finger along the tanned hide covering the interior of the earth toned board, attracted to its simpler design and gentle colors.

"This one. Can you show me?"

She reached to take up one of the river stones with active interest, rubbing her thumb along the smooth surface. The entire game spoke of the natural elements. She suddenly remembered Lucian and clenched her jaw, putting the stone back down with a slow, calculated motion. Remembering the man who had only been trying to help and may soon die darkened her spirits immediately, and she began to worry if this kind healer would suffer the same fate her other recent defender had.

With dark eyes, she turned her attention to the topic of conversation, consciously choosing to push thoughts of Lucian's fate from her mind. She would worry over him later if she could manage.

"Anything you can tell me would be more than I know. Anything at all."

She sighed and leaned back, rubbing her injured knee.

"I don't even know this city's name."

[Metarie]

Metarie nodded and smiled, “Yes, of course.” She then set about putting the other games back into the larger box and taking the box back to its home upon the shelf. As she crossed back to the couch, Metarie looked at Lanya. Emotion played across Lanya’s face; enough so to make Metarie wonder about the turn the woman’s thoughts had taken. She then wondered where to start, but Lanya gave Metarie an answer to that question.

“The name of the city is Marn.”

When Lanya rubbed her knee, Metarie stepped to her quickly and reached out of habit to check Lanya’s knee. Metarie’s gaze moved over the knee, looking for signs of new swelling. She looked up. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, Metarie relaxed but said softly, “There will probably be some twinges now and again. Had I been able to treat your knee when it had been injured originally maybe not, but now... yes, a little..., ” Metarie nodded to herself slightly and settled back onto the couch.

“You said that Cam, the captain, arrested you. If he arrested you then you were thought to have broken one of the laws of the City. There are the usual laws I assume you would expect to find - thievery, murder, and the like - but here there is also a deep rooted paranoia about magic. Magic is the greatest crime to commit, because magic is the source of all that is wrong in this world.” A little sarcasm laced Metarie’s tone. A little annoyance crossed her face; shone by the way her brows drew together, her eyes narrowed, and her mouth tightened. Metarie calmed herself and continued.

“The general populace believes the world to be plagued by corruption and magic. Obedience... Duty... Purity from the influence of magic - these are the virtues to which a citizen of Marn aspires.” Metarie’s brows lifted slightly and she gave a little quirk of a smile “Being an Elf, I suppose I am automatically not virtuous.” As she continued to speak, Metarie set up the game. Brown and cream pieces were placed around the board in a pattern of two, five, and three until all the pieces were distributed.

“Magic users must declare themselves as such. This does not mean the user is now legally allowed to use magic, only that they are a known magic user. To become a legal magic user, the user must petition for the right to practice his or her arts.” Metarie lifted her right arm and held up her wrist towards Lanya to show Lanya the mark there. “Ironically, the city employs battle mages, seers, healers, and other magic users.

“As for the Captain, he is essentially second in command of a group of armed solders. This group is the guard: our police force, our militia, our everything - except of course for the government of the city. He may have arrested you, but if he was escorting you to be hidden at my house, then he also believes you to be innocent. I do not think he would have done so just out of duty, no matter what he says.” Metarie’s eyebrows lifted and she gave Lanya a dead-pan look, “and that is what makes the man so frustrating. I just know he’s got it in him to be ... better.” Metarie huffed a little and shook her head. When she had finished speaking the board was set up.

“Was there anything else you wanted to know? Anything specific?”

[Lanya Caliope]

Marn. The elder man - Moryldar. He had said the name twice. She remembered now, though at the time she'd been dizzy with fatigue and injury. The city of Marn. She would be sure to rub it out on any map she might ever own.

The healer's instant concern about her knee caught Lanya off-guard, but the statement as she checked led to another surge of depression. Twinges meant permanent injury; she'd already braced herself for this moment, when she had to accept that her knee would never be whole again. But it stung to hear it from the healer's lips; there was no way to deny or argue the truth.

Now Metarie explained about the magics in this area. She'd traveled many places, and some were far worse for magic than this place sounded...but she hadn't had personal experience with their laws or lawmakers. This city would forever be tainted within her mind.

She had been accused of witchcraft, but the captain himself had said he thought her innocent. Why had he arrested her at all if he knew she wasn't a witch? It didn't fit; no, there had been some trigger. He had thought her a witch at first. It was only after she'd shown herself totally incapable of any magics whatsoever that he had changed his mind.

She thought back, past the terror and haze and pain, to try and remember the moments before the chase. When her knee had been healthy; when Wolfhound had been alive. They had walked into the tavern, and there was the assassin speaking with the captain and a guard. She had begged Wolfhound to calm himself from a fight, to leave with her...said something unfortunate, and Greenfyre and Flame had burst into song.

That was it. The trigger; the moment they'd thought she had magical abilities. It had been her own fault for using the wrong words. She had brought the entire situation on herself without meaning to.

She sighed as the weight of her own responsibility made her groggy. She heard the woman's statement about the captain but made no comment; she had been arrested by the man and felt a certain bias against him. Instead, she thought of what else she could ask.

"Not about the city, no - I've learned quite enough about the city." The disdain remained disguised until the last word, though she shook her head slightly to dismiss the tone.

"How long have you lived here?"

[Metarie]

Metarie canted a glance at Lanya. She could not blame the woman for the disdain in her voice. Metarie also noticed that Lanya's energy seemed to drop suddenly. The look of concern filled Metarie's gaze once again. Her gaze traveled over Lanya's face. Metarie reached out to Lanya again, but this time she just touched Lanya's hand gently and gave it a squeeze.

"I was born here." Metarie paused and then softly said, "Do you want to talk about it?" Perhaps if Lanya could speak of what happened, share in whatever it was...

[Lanya Caliope]

"There is hardly anything to say."

She took a deep breath, though, and thought to at least try. This woman had been kind and sympathetic; an edited version of the story wouldn't hurt.

"There is an assassin hired to kill me. That is who the captain is trying to protect me from.

"The captain took me to the prison. The floor was cold, but at least they gave me water. But only after an old man came to intimidate me. He stood outside my cell door and threatened me with torture. Told me I'd brought interesting company. I knew he meant the assassin - and then he said the strangest thing. That he didn't know whether to kill me then, right there, or hand me over to the assassin to kill."

She creased her brow and shook her head.

"Why would he say it like that? I am only a woman, but I am not a fool. They'd struck a deal with the assassin - he's now in their employ as one of the mages they use for justice. Justice!"

The bitterness she'd been holding back morphed her naturally calm and pleasant tone to anger, but she calmed herself to continue the much abbreviated story.

"I fell asleep again; I still hadn't been allowed to truly rest. And then the elder returned to take me in to their trial."

She suddenly pushed herself up and began pacing, a slow amble that helped to center the anger she felt thrumming through her. She needed to control herself; she refused to lose the only power she had.

"They bewitched me so that I would come easily. It was nice in a sense - I couldn't feel my hurts any longer. I walked normally on my knee. But when they chained me to the floor the pain came back..."

She closed her eyes, pausing in her movements as this moment reawakened within her. When the agony of her leg had rushed back through her, making her dizzy and nauseous with its power.

"And then their "trial" began. It was a farce, of course it was. They wanted me dead. I was nothing but a loose end of the assassin's. The elder who had threatened me before accused me of witchcraft, and then he...he lied. He lied and said that I had magic in me. He lied in full view of myself and their ridiculous triage of misers!"

At this last her voice is raised and offended, racked by the injustice of the entire sham - and her eyes are bright with tears. She still refuses to shed them, instead wiping the tips of her fingers along her lower eyelids to draw forth the offending water.

"What kind of justice does that save? A self-serving group of corrupt men who govern the city? And they would slay the innocent to defend their secrets...what kind of people are they?"

[Metarie]

Camulous had mentioned someone was trying to kill Lanya. Now, Metarie knew that this was a contract killer and that the owner of the contract was an older human who worked for the government. But, who? And, why did they want to kill this woman? What purpose would it serve?

Metarie nodded in sympathy, feeling her own sense of righteousness arise as well. This sort of thing is exactly what was wrong with the city. Frustration rose in her, too. The injustices experienced daily were many, but many were not aware there were injustices being done upon them. Like the proverbial tree falling in the forest, if one is not aware of an injustice, can it truly be considered such? Metarie flopped back on the couch and closed her eyes. She had been around humans long enough to recognize that hubris which plagued her kin within her when it raised its ugly head.

"It is wrong, but to change it will cost many lives. Let us hope that this assassin is hired only as such and not given a true position as mage for the government as you think." Metarie's thoughts inexorably went to Ryxa Liorysei. That person could do anything without just cause and be fully supported under the law.

“Can you describe the elder to me? What about the assassin? And, why would he want to kill you specifically? You’re not from here obviously… so why?”

Metarie’s eyes popped open and she stood up quickly, moving to run her fingers over the spines of books. She was searching for something. As she searched she could only think, Camulous, hurry back soon.

[Lanya Caliope]

Lanya watched the elf as she spoke, in the habit of maintaining eye contact as much as possible during a conversation. Metarie doubted her assessment, and that was fair. She was correct; Lanya was not from this city. But she'd seen at least a small portion of how its justice worked, and couldn't help but be jaded by this reality. She didn't doubt what she had surmised, and the elder's lack of argument over the point convinced her utterly. If the assassin were not in the city's employ, there would be no other reason that Lanya would matter enough to be falsely accused and killed. The only reason she mattered was because she had been part of the assassin's previous life.

She had nearly been made his victim by the city's justice.

"The elder's name was Moryldar."

She remembered this detail from the trial itself, when yet another old man had entered, pompous and smug. She thought the name would help far better than a poor description.

"The assassin is not from here either." This she was also sure of, for her crime had been committed elsewhere, not within the city limits, and she felt strongly that he had followed her here.

"I was his mark...suffice to say that because I stand before you, a little girl is dead."

Up until this point her tone had been warm and lyrical but dry, with no hint of fear, guilt or shame. But as she spoke this last she finally broke eye contact with the healer and clenched her jaw, willing herself to calm her nerves. She would forever be responsible for the little girl's death, but she didn't want to burden anyone else with this sentiment. The question brought the hard memories of that moment back to her...and she straightened as she remembered her murderous guitar.

"My things might've been left at the tavern I originally saw the captain in. Could we check? I have a guitar there, and I need it - that's my living. And also a staff..."

She reached up to pat Flame, who had alighted on her shoulder and begun preening himself. She wasn't sure she needed the staff for her little friend, but she was determined to get it back regardless.

"I believe it was the...Willow something. I confess I don't remember the name..."

[Metarie]

Metarie’s eyes popped open and she stood up quickly, moving to run her fingers over the spines of books. She was searching for something. As she searched she could only think, Camulous, hurry back soon.

“Moryldar,” Metarie muttered as her fingers drew across the spines. That was not good news at all. This meant that Metarie’s first guess was wrong and that Lanya’s was right. Metarie paused mid-search. “A little girl?” Metarie pulled a book from the shelf as she turned to Lanya.

“Perhaps you would like to tell me the whole story now?”

Metarie started to cross back to the couch, but paused to pull an additional book down from the shelf. Moving back to the couch, she looked at Lanya expectantly. Metarie sharply shook her head in the negative.

"Camulous said we should stay here. We should stay here. Retrieving your things will be expected. We will work on getting these back when it is safe to do so." Metarie resumed her expectant look.

"Now, if you don't mind... the whole story?"

[Lanya Caliope]

Lanya neither tensed nor froze when asked to tell the full story. She understood and accepted that people would always ask. She considered repeating the tale ad nauseum a penance, an offering to the dead girl's spirit. A promise that she would never forget what had happened.

Her tone of voice remained relatively dry; she couldn't help that she was a storyteller, but she wouldn't perform the story of the little girl's death. The story had the telltale ring of repetition and her own weariness of the situation gave the words a tired weight.

"Two years ago I received an enchanted guitar as a gift. It was created from sapling wood and always in perfect tune. It was the perfect present for a bard and I thought the giver trust-worthy, so I accepted it."

She stood in one place, watching the healer as she spoke. Flame nestled against her throat, letting out a cat's purr as he preened her ear.

"Afterward, days later, we came upon a store in which you could hear screaming inside. We decided to try and help - at the least we could bear witness to a crime. Once inside...there was a little girl. No more than eight years old - and her face was horrible. Grotesque and misshapen. She was possessed by a demon."

Lanya closed her eyes here, forcing herself to relive the moments afterward. She would not enter such detail with this kind woman, but she would make herself see it again. Every moment of the little girl's pain flashed against her darkened eyelids as she continued.

"The demon attacked us. Threw furniture and roared and tried to provoke us into battle. But we wouldn't fight; how could we? It was a demon, but the body was a little girl. I was sure we could have saved her from the creature within. Taken her to a priest or -"

Lanya paused a long moment, then shook her head slightly before continuing the story.

"The guitar was alive. When the demon threatened me it attacked and killed the little girl. I couldn't stop it; I couldn't control it. I tried to, but I couldn't."

She paused another moment, reaching up to pat Flame who had continued purring and preening her during her recitation. He was in tune with her emotions, even more in tune with her sorrow, and he wouldn't leave her when she needed his comfort.

"It was her family which hired the assassin. The shopkeeper of that store accused me of witchcraft and called me a murderer. I didn't murder her - but I am responsible for the little girl's death."

She opened her eyes now to look at Metarie. Her eyes were dull and dark, but no tears waited to fall; she had cried out her grief over this event already and felt no urge to break down any longer.

"That guitar is indestructible. I have tried to destroy it; it reforms. I have tried to leave it or bury it; it finds me. That is what was left at the tavern, and why we must try to retrieve it. It doesn't attack unless I am threatened, I've learned this - but I have been threatened several times. I don't know how it might've reacted and I won't have it hurt another..."

[Metarie]

Metarie listened. She wore an expression of compassion and possibly a little insight. Metarie wasn't sure if she had ever dealt with a demon possessed child. More than likely, a child like that would probably be killed in Thar before anyone ever heard about it; a horrible thought to Metarie's mind. Gods and demons... certainly powerful creatures such as they existed; however, Metarie was not so sure they were worthy of worship. She thought perhaps that they were just distorted versions of the Fae, but was not knowledgeable enough to decide one way or the other.

One thing stuck out in Lanya's story that led Metarie to believe Lanya was not fully forthcoming. Metarie wore no judgement of the woman on her face, nor did judgement distort her tone.

"Lanya, who is "we?"

Metarie regarded Lanya steadily.

[Lanya Caliope]

"The dryad who gave me Greenfyre - the guitar."

She looked away as a small chirrup sounded from her shoulder, anger biting at her. The dryad was the root of the entire mess. It wasn't just the guitar; the girl had been involved with a gang of thugs. A werewolf who tried to kill the bard, and nearly killed her wooden robin in the process. She remembered the dryad begging her for forgiveness after Lanya had defended herself with mere bathwater and a towel. While naked. She couldn't help a slight blush creeping into her cheeks at the memory.

"She vanished afterward. I've no idea where she is now. And I have been alone."

The words carry no bitterness, though anger still exists within the woman's mind. A louder chirrup sounds from her shoulder and the bard produces a small smile.

"Mostly."

[Metarie]

So, now Metarie had the story of why the assassin was chasing after Lanya and how Lanya obtained the guitar. She also had Lanya's perspective of her arrest and trial.

"Hm." Metarie looked as if she were contemplating what Lanya has said. "So many loose threads..." Metarie sat up and slapped her hands against her thighs. "No matter, you are here now. I have helped you and will continue to do so. You and your Flame are not alone. Right, Kona?"

Kona raised his head and gave that little huff of a noise; his affirmative that he was here to help.

"Lanya, settle down. Now that I know we are up against a mage, we should try to make as many protective things as we can." Metarie opened the first book. There were well-drawn pictures of various herbs along with script beside them. Even if Lanya could read, the script was in Elvish. "We will see if my Lady Baeresi can be of help to us..."

Metarie scanned the pages quickly, looking for anything that might be of use. "Ah... perhaps this."