Looking about the Lux

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Romilda

Romilda

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Exiting the tavern Romilda starts walking about looking for a place to set up camp before the evening hit. Walking through the streets passing by houses, some empty, some looking like they had signs of life but not many. She gets closer to the edge of the city and finds a nice patch of grass with a few trees to provide shade. She begins to unpack her tent and securing it down. The same way she had done over and over in the past how many years.

Once the tent was secured she went about setting up her sitting area out front consisting of a few cushions and an area to start a fire if she felt the need to cook. Throwing her pack into her tent she selected a cushion at random and pulled out her note book again to start writing all she could remember from the tavern. Lost in thought.
 
Calan walks up to the pensive sylvanborn.

“you’ll have to excuse people around here. The past has t always been kind to us. Very few of us have happy go lucky I’m going on an adventure for the sake of it pasts. There have been some who claim to be friends only to betray the group.” Calan picks up some stones and examines them.
“ The good news is that I may be able to vouch for you. So long as you answer a few questions for me. what are your parents names.”
 
Romilda drops her pen at the visitor and hand instinctively reaching across her body by the time she recognizes the stranger from the tavern.

"Its quite alright, I have to apologize for myself as well, looking back i should have read the room a bit better" giving her shoulders a quick shake to relax back into her pensive state.

"As for my parents names? Odd question but I'll play along, Sanues and Catarina Sagedust..." she looks at him, waiting to gauge his reaction.
 
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Calan continues to look at the rock.
“Sagedust? Sanues sagedust?”
 
"Yep, one of wildest terinor that I ever had the pleasure of knowing..." tilting her head to the side she gets a small smile on her face.
 
Sadness fills his face. “Then you must also know Iris Sagedust his sister?” Calan looks about for others.
 
A look a confusion crosses her face. "... no, cant say I do. As far as I was aware my fathers only sister was Leanne..." at this romilda straightens up and stares Calan down.

"She did have a daughter named Iris though."
 
Calan nods and tosses the stone. “What was her favourite food? Iris that is?.”
 
Her face was expressionless as stone "her favourite thing to eat was oranges... she used to eat them till her stomach hurt, and Leanne would yell at me for giving them to her.."

Standing up now Romilda faces Calan, one foot slightly in front of the other. "My turn, what was the name of Leannes husband?"
 
Somewhat satisfied with the answers he reaches into his satchel and pulls out a crochet doll. It looked like a pixie with a key for a necklace when Calan first arrived at the fort he kept it on him at all times. But for the last couple years it’s sat at the foot of his bed. There was sadness and love in his eyes the doll had been well kept even though it was almost 30 years old. He handed the doll over to her very carefully as though it could break.
“what ever became of the child?”
 
Her eyes go wide as she looks down at the doll in her hands. Colours faded but the memory of countless nights stitching the doll together floated through her mind. The smile on her cousins face when she was given it, and her first act with the doll was to show her brother. Thoughts of the little girl playing in front of the small cottage in the woods. The small cottage reeking of death as she walked up the path for the last time. The image of what was behind that door.

"Shes dead.."
 
“To answer your question, her husbands name was James Thatcher.” Calan examines her reaction a deep sinking feeling sat at the pit of his gut.
“What’s it’s name?”
 
Her expression changes as her brow furrows in thought. She holds it in her left hand and brings the doll closes to her chest, her eyes doing a thousand yard stare.
"She named it spring"

He right hand goes for her sword, her voice monotone "Why do you have her, when she should still be with Iris"
 
Calan looks at the woman before him. He considers his surroundings and what he can say.
“A fair question without an easy answer that you are rightfully owed.” He thinks about his words carefully. “I will gladly tell you more at a latter date but for now I will say I knew James, and I knew the weight of that loss, he carried it with him till he died.” Calan pauses, not feeling entirely good about what he’d said but it was the truth. “I can let my clansmen know you are who you claim to be, and mean us no harm; he likely still won’t trust you until you have given him reason to feel otherwise.” Calan looks about. Waiting for a response.
 
Her hand never leaving the handle of her sword she looks up at Calan. And stares at him. And just keeps staring until she finds just a whisper of her voice.

"What did I call him"
 
“If I recall you called him Bluejay, or Jay.” He said matter of factly. “There’s no need to hold onto that hilt; id not defend myself If you attacked me. I can tell you that it would not help your position her in the lux. I don’t even think I could convince them to not punish you for your actions.”

Calan squats down to look her in the eyes
“Milly, you’re a kind person; people here will come to trust and like you soon enough. As much as I’d like to talk more I have research to do. I’ll be happy to answer any further questions latter.”

Calan got up and began walking back towards his home.
 
Jinn watches the exchange from a far enough distance to not be noticed or interrupt. As they finish their talk and Calan starts walking back Jinn also heads back home.
 
Watching Calan walk away romilda cradles the doll with both hands and slowly sits back down. Reaching down her leg she grabs at the flask just beneath the hem of her skirt and takes a drink. Tucking her legs in she sits there staring off into space, doll in one hand, flask in the other.
 
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