Red and Aldrid First Meeting

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Red and Aldrid First Meeting

Post by Admin on Sun Sep 20, 2015 5:35 pm

ALDRID:
Aldrid shivered against the fridged winds, and looked up at the mountain that loomed over him, ominous and screaming with the sharp winds that passed through its many crevaces, giving voice to the lost souls trapped within. The sight of it all made him shiver. His breath left him and the world spun when it refused to return. Catching himself on a nearby stone, he slowly lowered himself to the frozen ground, his fingers going numb almost as soon as they touched to the barren earth. "I'm sorry Magnus... I can't..." His throat tightened and he choked on his emotions, the tears freezing to his face in the bitter winds. How could he slay a God when he was a mere mortal? His body trembled with weakness, and the years of fear and pain and regret - everything that he had carried with him, all his deeds, remembered and forgotten. He may of been timeless but so was a life time of regret. There was no joy here, no hope.

A thunderous clap brought him from his reveree, and he looked up in time to see the side of the mountain crashing down around him with a deafening roar. He barely had time to dive for a shallow alcove, hiding under the frail cover of stone as the world collapsed around him. Suddenly he was surrounded by cold and darkness. Defeat pressed down on him as surely as the weight of the snow; and yet something drove his hand forward to desperately claw at the snow, shoving it all away until the pale light of the dismal day forced its way through, and his body took in the crisp air. It was painful to breathe, but the pain reminded him he was still alive, and that he had to remain that way. At least, until his battle was finished.

Dragging himself from the hovel, he half-crawled over to the face of mountain and reached for the frigid stone. His fingers felt numb as they clamped around stone, and he barely had the strength to pull himself up; and yet he climbed, despite his desperate state. Up and up he went, even as the winds shrieked louder and snatched at him, trying to pry his grip from the stone and dash him against the earth below. The world only seemed to grow darker around him, and the howling winds gave way to the forming of a blizzard, shards of ice snatching sharp kisses against his exposed skin, and threatening to blind him.

Reaching for a ledge above him, his heart plummeted into his stomach when his fingers grasped for the rock, but brushed against nothing. Dangling by one hand, he quickly scrabbled for purchase, only barely able to keep himself from falling. Luck brought his hand back to the stone however, and he slowly pulled himself up on to a shelf. Laying there on his back, he stared up at the daunting climb still ahead. He was almost there, he could see the start of the summit - but what would he find at the top? Would it be enough? What if he failed? Doubt quickly flooded through him, and he was overcome with a great fatigue. Maybe he should just rest a while...

. . . . . .

Aldrid snapped from his reveree in time to notice the city looming up over the grassy plains, and the faint trailing sounds of music danced on the summer winds. A stream of people coming in from all directions piqued his curosity, and even this far away from the gates wagons stopped to set up shop, hawkers pesturing passerbys with their wares and promising them to be unlike anything they've seen before. Few stopped, save for the gullable and the curious. Shaking his head slightly, he couldn't help but smile to himself and chuckle as a small band of half-naked children ran screeching in front of him, the beast of burden under him snorting nervously as it pawed at the ground, eager to be free from the large crowds.

With a sympathetic pat, he pressed through the throng of people, even as it began to slow, the procession almost a dead halt. Guards lined the road in their helms and cuirasses, spear tips glistening like menacing fangs and swords strapped on cinched belts. He could pity the men at arms who were tasked with security detail. Events like these were often the opportunity for the less fortunate and the dishonest. His own hand checked the sword that rested against his hip, the plain leather worn with age and travel; the weapon a gift from his time among the desert folk, curved and with a wicked edge. Even among the throng, he attracted strange looks, garbed in loose pants and shifts of cloth that wrapped around his torso.

His face remained wrapped in a grey silk, smooth and cool against the glaring sun. His green eyes danced with the merriment, and for the first time in a long time, he felt alive. When he finally paused at the gate, he dismounted his horse and held out his hands to either side while they checked him over, searching for any concealed contraband. They eyed his sword wearily, but it wasn't uncommon for travelers to arm themselves, especially in times of war and strife. He wondered if there would ever be a time of peace - anywhere he went, someone was always fighting someone else.

After the Godslayer was admitted, he looked about the large crowds, and listened to the cacophony of sound, either from music and other performers, or the yelling of shopkeeps. He turned a blind eye to all of this, however, and quietly slipped down a side road, leading his horse along behind him. Once away from the sounds he felt himself relax a bit, his shoulders sagging from the pent up warriness that often accompanied him. It was difficult to find trust in these troubled times; it seemed no matter where he went though, some part of the celebration seemed to touch all parts of the city, including the slums where survivors of the war came to find refuge.

He paused and looked across the street at a ramshackle wagon, with a bunch of marionettes dancing on their strings, and the enchanting voice of an aged man carried over the children who watched with rapt attention, "-and the godslayer knew then what had to be done, for no other could do it... He began to climb again. No matter how tired he had become, no matter how he might of failed, he couldn't give up. He at least owed that to the hope that the world had invested in him!"

Aldrid watched with the same attention as the wooden puppet with long black hair and a sword on his back made to sluggishly climb the paper mountain, and the sagely man looked up in time to see Aldrid, giving a toothy grin and a knowing wink as he immitated the sounds of a harsh wind, causing the children to gasp and cry out as the puppet's hand slipped, causing him to nearly fall. Shaking his head, he turned and quickly walked away, a pit forming in his stomach. His apprehension only grew when he rounded the corner and found the next street completely empty, the buildings boarded up and abandoned. Eyes watched him from shadows, and he instinctively rested his grip on the sword, his eyes deadset on the building at the end of the street, an old and dilapidated tavern. With any luck, his friend would already be waiting for him inside.

RED:
The Drowning Wench.

That was the tavern in question. The building was its own in nature. To others the outside may have seen better moons, but it was the most ravishing structure in the alley. The old timber hand crafted and placed in a box like manner stitched together with iron nails and passion. For some, the Drowning Wench was a symbol of hope and a fair enough reason to get through the day for most. Men, woman, from all walks of life came to this very spot, sat among the masses that inhabited the place. Each coming for different reasons; while some it was a drink to fall asleep or drown their sorrows, while others it was to gamble away their lives to the sharks, and for some it was to make money to simply survive. The place thrived considering its condition, yet still adored ravenously. No one loved The Drowning Wench than Red.

Red began her day just as any other mortal would, she rose from her linin sheets, rolled out of the comforts of warm sheets and went straight to the fires. Every morning she arose with the sun and fell soundly asleep with the moon. First, instinct kicked in and she had to revive the fires to regain warmth and kindle her day once more. Once tended to, it was time to get dressed. Same as always; grey cotton top, with a ruby skirt that brushed the floor. Auburn hair rolled up into a sensible bun and black flats for rationality and practicality. Apron creased around her average waist. A slight puff of air came from her lugs and thus she opened the door of her room and descended down the stairs. Instinct brought her to snap open the curtains, dust flying, to bring some type of light into the place. Best not use candles when they were not needed at this hour. The sun could provide wonders. Next was to prepare the tables. She set down each chair until they were on all four, they creaked and clattered with protest to her actions. No matter how much they cried, they were going to be placed down, used, and retried for the night and repeat. She had this down to a science and no one was going to break the momentum of her daily routine. Pulling a rag from the counter she began to clean the tops with amazing speed and performance. Red had been at this far too long, since a child when her father made her work, and thus learned how to grow up really quick. There was bills to pay, her own mouth to feed, and people to please. She knew her place and life and what would become of it. This town, her future, all mapped out the day her mother was pregnant. Not adventure was ever foretold and sadly, she was okay with that, content with living a life of simplistic fashions, even if her heart screamed otherwise.

Customers did not start coming in until early afternoon. It was less at this time, but as long as there was payment, Red did not care. She went about her day, passing out ale, and delivering idle conversation for the sorry souls that needed it. But there was never any truth in it, her laughter, her smile of pure enjoyment, and the way she cooed with each person that walked through her door. There was rarely a time where she met someone or something worth awhile. Everyone was always the same after a while and she stopped being surprised. Same stories, misery, compliments, lust and vigor’s of everyday life. One day she told herself she would stop caring, but truth be told, her heart was too big to just simply wonder off. This was home and her life was right here in these old four walls.

“Take a seat anywhere I will be with you in a moment.” She mused as she heard the door open, she knew that sound by heart and its horrid squeaking. Her back was too the entrance, her body positioned on her tippy toes, she was trying to grab something off the top shelf, a bottle of deeply aged ale it seemed. “Mhm!” She murmured. Red knew right then and there she was not going to get the bottle without a little bit of help. She hiked up the edge of her skirt and roll it slightly up so she could stand on the counter. As she turned around so do so her eyes locked on a man she thought she would never see in her life again. Her muddy brown eyes lost connection as quickly as they connected with his own. “Tavern is closed for the afternoon…” She barely got out the words; no one moved. She regained control of her voice and stated firmly, “I said we are closed.” There was grumbles and whimpers of frustration. Never, ever had the tavern been closed to the public, but when this man walked in, her world shattered. The people soon made their way out, making room for just the two.

ALDRID:
Aldrid let out a tired sigh as he took the horse around back of the ramshackle building, and secured the beast in a paddock. he took his time to remove the saddle and groom out the beast, cleaning its slick coat of sweat and dust. He had always been patient. With the inn closed for mornings, it gave him enough time to scour his things clean, and set them aside before securing what little belongings he had with him. He paused when he caught his reflection in a hanging glass, the kind that often portrayed the vanity of women, and the pride of men; his reflection staring back looked young with a clean shaven face, and short cropped black hair instead of the usual wild mane. Thin scars lined his jaw, raking down his face and under the loose fabrics wrapped around his muscular chest. Thick corded arms swelled with a natural flex, and he couldn't help but give himself a slight smile. Turning away from the mirror, he took his time to enter the building, already near-full with the earliest of patrons; though the sight of the girl so desperately trying to reach upwards was a bit comical.

His lips cracked with an infectious smile, even as she declared the tavern's closing. He stepped aside as the patrons eventually got up with a grumble, and gave Aldrid bizarre looks. He dismissed them all with a courteous nod, before walking over to the bar counter, moving with that strange, predatorial gait, animalistic yet graceful. Without skipping a beat, he reached up and put firm hands around her hips, and lifted the girl off the bar counter to set her back on her feet, "now now, young one, you're going to hurt yourself." His eyes danced with mischief and happiness as he looked down at her, the man easily towering over most. He deftly jumped behind the counter and snatched the bottle off the shelf. Blowing off the dust, he set it down in front of her, and took a seat beside her, "Hello Red... it's good to see you again."

The man habitually reached out and put a large hand on her head, ruffling her hair in a playful manner. How many times had he done this before, watching her grow from a child into a young woman over the years? Her father had always been a good friend to him - Willheim, a bear of a man with thick unruly hair as red as the bleeding sun at dusk, and a thick build of a life as an innkeep and blacksmith. Aldrid looked the girl up and down, wondering where the man had disappeared to, "Look at you, you're all grown up! My, the last I saw you, you were only yay high." He held his hand just below his elbow, and tapped his chin thoughtfully. He mused himself with the thought of many suitors chasing after her. She would make a good wife someday.

In truth, he had come to meet someone - a woman; though one unlike any other. turning to look at the door apprehensively, he wondered if she would come, the one who had found the babe, and carried her here, raised her through her early childhood and left her in the care of Will. "Is your father about?" he murmured, his eyes vacant with thought. It was clear that something distracted him. When he looked back at her though, his eyes held a sense of seriousness, "Did... anyone leave something here for me? I'm sorry for my sudden arrival, I would of sent word ahead; but there was no time." His hurried explanation was a clear indication of the man's impatience, "It should be a wooden box, about the size of my fist. Has no seems or locks and made of a strange black weirwood."'

RED:
Men tried to put their hands on her before and since her father taught her how to punch, she would pursue the man with a fist full to the jugular. Though, the last man that tried that she did not have to get her hands on them before Willheim came barreling in with the force of a one man army. No one put hands on his little girl, no one. It was silently understood from that day forth that no one touched her, it was the law of the Tavern. Law to anyone that wished to live on two legs for the remainder of their lives. When Aldrid just came up to her she had no time to react, curling his rather large hands around her hip structure and planting her like a little flower back on the ground so she could be on her feet once more. Her height never bothered her until her muddy eyes gazed up at him. She was barely five foot six and he was...looking down at her like the Gods would stare down at the plants. “You know, one day you are going to get yourself into trouble grabbing someone like … that …” She ran her petite fingers down her apron to straight the kinks right back out, just then, he did the thing she always hated since a child; he touched her head. She evaded the final pat by moving her head slightly back and her body followed. Red was not the babe or child he remembered. She was grown, a woman now. In her younger years, but never the less fully grown, but she should have be married by now. Most at her age were married with their first or second child on the way, yet here she was; in all her fiery glory. “I would watch your choice of words also. I am not young anymore, unless you wish to deem me so, Old man.” She resorted cleanly, she was used to banter in such a place as this, but she said so with a fine smile she gave everyone.

Red was a woman in the simplest form; she had the ability to be a wife and make a man decently happy with her appearance. She was not ravishing, in fact, her features were plain and worn down from life. As for womanly assets, they were minimal, but there, enough to please, not too much to be a burden. “You never stop rushing, do you?” There was almost a sigh in her voice, but she pushed it away as it tried to break free. He never had a moment to just stop and smell the roses, did he? She whisked away behind the bar and curled her pale fingers around the bottle. “If you take a moment to breath, I shall tell you if I know of this box.” With that she snapped open the container of ale, letting the fizz boil over her fingers. With the other hand she pulled out two glasses from the ridge and placed them on the counter top. “Daddy is, busy at the moment…” That was all she had to say.

ALDRID:
Aldrid gave a curt nod at the decleration of her father being busy, his face dropping into a frown with obvious disappointment. He let out a weary sigh and his shoulders seemed to sag as if under a great weight. Sitting at the bar, he leaned over the cured wood, his fingernail idly scratching at the counter top, "I apologize. It's been a while since I've had the opportunity to rest, I think I've forgotten how." He looked up to her with a soft smile, watching as the contents of the bottle fizzled over, spilling around her fingers and gliding down the neck of the bottle. Another sigh escaped him, and he rested his chin in his hand, "It's been a long ride and I suppose I expected a little too much too soon. My patience has gotten away from me. Forgive me." After a measured moment of silence, his mood seemed to improve a bit, the usual mischief and joy returning to the strange man, "So, what about you... no suitors I presume? I'm guessing no one catches your fancy, or Will has chased them all off."

A low chuckle escaped him. He knew it could be a sensitive topic, but he'd known Red her entire life, right from the time she was a babe. He looked her up and down with a strange scrutiny, seeing her for the beautiful woman she had grown up to be; even with her plain features, she had a homely sense to her, welcoming and gentle compared ot the usual excitement life seemed to bring to people like him. He quickly averted his gaze before she could catch him staring, and instead turned his eyes back to hers, "I'm not just here for that package. I brought you a gift, too." Aldrid pushed back from the bar and reached into the many folds of fabric to remove a small wooden box, before sliding it over to her, "however, you can't open it until you promise me one thing."

His eyes grew serious as one heavy hand caught hers and gave a slight squeeze to get her attention, "You must never, ever come to use it unless you are in great need of it. What lies in this box has the potential to be very dangerous for someone who might have ill will... Promise me." He squeezed a bit harder and with his warning, his eyes quickly flashed a strange seriousness unlike him. He wouldn't let go of her until she complied. He wondered if it was wise to give her such a thing, but at the same time, some strange instinct told him that it would some day belong to her one way or another. He supressed the urge to shudder at the thought of her abusing its strength, and his heart beat with a heavy sadness at the possibility of that truth. He didn't say it, but the last thing he wished was for him to have to return, only to kill her.

RED:
She understood his spoken words clearly. He rarely got a moment to close his eyes and just breathe. “It is a rare commodity for you to be still these days.” Her voice was stern as always, but held such a gentle neutrality to it. Her job was to entertain people to get them to come back, her tone of voice helped set the outcome for this to happen. In fact, she was even surprised he was here, sitting at her bar, and most of all talking to her. It would be sort lived however, his voice said it all. He was here for her father, not her. She did not expect any less from him, he was busy, and she was well…here, busy also in her own fashion.

Her father was a busy man, even sometimes she had to feel as if she needed to schedule an appointment to be around him. Though, be it as it may. There was no reason to fuss over someone or something she could not control. However, she could control the tavern and people within its confines. Woman did not get much to fuss over these days in those of Red’s social class. She had The Drowning Wench and Blacksmiths land, thus she was the heir to it when her father died. The Establishments made enough money to make her a desirable mate one fair day and her husband to claim the title. So when he asked of a suitor she just gave a half smile, “You’re sitting on in my suitor right now.” She motioned one had to the bar in a showing off fashion and proceeded to clean her hands free of the alcohol. In a way she was engaged to this bar as he was the wild.

“Just here…for the package…” Her fingers curled around the drink, nursing it, like a child and her eyes fell upon the glass. Her finger swirled around the edge, completely missing the fact he was looking at her. Oh well, no harm in looking at someone he had no seen in a long time, right? What was the last time he saw her, when she was in her teenage years? It was hard to remember, each day ran together like a blurry line. “What is that I have to promise to get a wooden box?” She only teased at him, but when he suddenly caught her hand, she froze. The touch may have not meant any harm, yet it felt like boa constrictor sucking the life and color out of her pale flesh. All she could do was nod her head, comply with his words without a murmur coming out of her lips. He just came at her like a wild beast and it was sometimes she never been around before. Her body felt so small, petite, and tiny against the pure aura of his dominance. Her blood ran cold and heart stopped pleading for him to let go. Her big brown doe eyes gazed at him.

ALDRID:
Aldrid's eyes held hers for a brief moment - up close, it was easy to see the ruggedness in him from spending so much time in this vast world, traveling from one end to the other. He retracted his hand to rest it on top of the other, and sat oddly still. "Go on then... open it." he murmured softly, and gave a slight indication to the box in question. Inside rested a plain marble, the likes of which light seemed to pass through as if it were mere glass; the transparency of the object made it difficult even to see the thing, the only hint of its actual existence left by the impression in the soft fabric beneath, and the occasional glancing of light as the flames in the hearth danced, casting long shadows throughout the homely place, "Don't worry, despite it's appearance it's not fragile." He carefully picked it up, pinching it between two strong fingers. Suddenly it began to swirl with a strange smoke, the sphere filling with a grey-like mist, lined with shimmering gold fleks, "It reacts differently to each person. It can be very dangerous if you know how to use it."

He took her hand in his once more, gentler this time as he carefully pressed the glass-like object into her palm, and watched, " Some people say it's a reflection of your soul, and that each colour means a different thing. Red for passionate emotion - anger, lust, love; I don't know them all, but I'm sure you can find someone around here who does." He watched as the grey and gold aura within began to dissipate, and the orb once more became transparent, "Give it half a moment..." He rose up from his seat and stretched, before leaning over her palm, curious to see what sort of colours it might change to. He remembered the first time Willheim had touched it, reflecting a brilliant crimson; it was only fitting for a man of his disposition.

"They call it the eye of Alrick. Once upon a time there were a people we now call the Ancients. They were powerful in the ways of combat and magic, and their cities were vast and unlike anything you've ever seen. I'm sure that you've seen some ruins just outside the city along the North Road. Anyways, there was one in particular - Alrick, who was so powerful it was believed he could see all things. One day, a priest of the Old Gods had grown far too jealous of the man's power, and so, sent him a strange bird of his own creation - the likes of which, no one had ever seen before. Alrick had grown fond of the strange creature due to its strangeness, until one night, the creature plucked out his eyes and swallowed them, taking them back to his dark master."

"Alrick, however, was still able to see through his eyes, and despite the deception, he had come to know where the priest had been hiding. So from his great tower, he patiently waited until the bird spat out his eye; then suddenly, he called forth all his arcane wrath and smote him, sundering his body and trapping his soul within a vessel; one of his eyes..." He paused in his story telling and looked from the sphere to the young woman, "I've always told you, as has your father - old magics are very dangerous, and not to be taken lightly. It is up to you what you wish to do with this now, but use it wisely."

RED:
Red had only known the world she grew up, this big city, this tavern and blacksmith establishment, and it showed. It was not as if she was unexperienced, but was just domestically raised to live a normal life. There was nothing wrong with that, as she saw it was only fitting for a man like Aldrid to be off saving the world or humbly destroying it. He released her and she had never been so glad to be allowed to breathe anything. “You know how to get a women gifts…” She mused out while her arm was being retracted towards her frame once more, safe or so she thought, from any more flesh to flesh contact. But then he planted his hand upon hers, more gently motion, but if she was not so strong willed and knew him like she did she would have winced.

“You sure have a mouth on you, I remember you so silent and stern.” She resorted as she was told to open the box. She did, as told, and the lid was opened, however, she did not touch the contents, she knew better than to grab before knowing what it truly was. “Then again, speaking with a child about important matters would never been wise.” She slipped her hand out from being under his and went to nurse her drink once more. He always came to talk to her father, she remembered spying on them when she was little through the key hole of the door. She never heard too much, but she always felt like they knew she was there and avoided the important or sensitive subjects until she whisked back into her chambers once more.

He went on about color, how the object pierce into someone’s very soul and depict it in a color. He choose to speak about the color Red, for it was only appropriate for her names sake. “My name my stand for passionate emotions, but …-“ The sphere was rested in the palm of her hand and she finished her sentence. “I do not consider myself a personal of intensity.” Just because she did not consider herself such, did not mean she wasn’t, or maybe she was right. Only time molded a woman and the experiences she had through her life. The orb felt odd in her hand. It was the only way to explain it, there was a strange tingle of life there, but it made her feel empty and vast. In accordance, the sphere took more than a moment to show its colors. In fact, the sphere sat there through the story, but nothing, not a single ounce of color, blank as it was before it was set upon her palm. Flustered, she wanted to get it out of her hand. The story only intensified the emotions, she did not want any part of it. She knew once she took a bite of the forbidden fruit of magic, there was no going back. Why the orb did not change color, she did not know, maybe she was colorless or perhaps she did not give the object enough time. But the fact that an object could depict who she really was inside was frightening. She did not even know who she was inside, how was this godly object going to tell her. Before she could stop her next actions the sphere was back in the box, and with a hush whisper she murmured, “Alrick, sounds too close to yours my dear.” Maybe it was an acquaintance or she was making something up. She rose her glass to her pale lips and knocked it back cleanly, but her eyes lingered on that damn box. Her mind groaned, what trouble had the devious devil slipped into her life, but one pressing question lingered through her mind like a thousand of raging bulls. “Am I in danger…” Why would he give her something like this now? What was he not saying or telling her. She was not a child anymore, she could now. Maybe her brain was over reacting and she was making a mess of things.

RED:
He gave her a wicked smile, and his eyes seemed to flash with a dangerous light - for just a brief moment, he could of almost been menacing, "Aye, you are - but no more or less than you ever have been. This world is a dangerous place, Red. Even living a homely life like this can invite the wrong sort of trouble." He chuckled and scratched at the bar counter before leaning forward again to rest his elbows on the bar counter, "No, this will not bring you any form of trouble unless you invite trouble. As you know, magic is a very dangerous thing - and as far as I know, there is only one person who may come looking for it if he's still alive; but he is no one who will hurt you my dear." He reached out and stole the glass from her fingers before topping it off and took a healthy swig, "you know, it's only polite to share your drinks with your guests."

He fell silent for a time, and his eyes became vacant, lost with some deep thought or another before he finally let out a deep sigh and looked up at her again, his eyes hollow and tired, "Listen to me carefully, Red. Things are changing, and I fear that it won't be long before the life you know and your quiet little world will be turned up side down. This is why I have come, not just to see your father or to meet an old friend - but to tell you that, things are not the same." Before he could say anything more though, the door opened once more despite the place being 'closed' and a hooded figure paused, looking over at the pair from under the long cowl that hid their pale face. Aldrid gave a curt nod in greeting, and looked back at Red, "you say you're not a child - alright, then you can stay and listen. As is only fair since we're using your establishment, but you have to promise me that you will keep quiet."

The figure reached up and tore back the cowl to reveal a tumble of long hair as white as snow, and eyes like blood. Despite her strange appearance, she was quite beautiful - the kind that was quite literally breathtaking. Like him, she moved with a strange languid grace, and everything about her spoke of something dangerous. Rolling her shoulders, she stripped off her cloak and hung it on a peg. She was tall and had the ample curves that every woman envied, and men lusted after. Sauntering over to the bar, she sat herself down, and without a moment of hesitation, snatched the glass that Aldrid had initially taken for himself, "Well then! Look at you, all grow up. Goodness, I hope you don't cry like you used to."

She stopped only long enough to down the last of the contents, and paused when Aldrid just glared at her. There was a moment of silent communication before she seemed to bow her head and give a slight nod in acceptance, "Okay, okay I get it..." Aldrid only shook his head and looked at Red with an apologetic smile, "May I have that package now? It's very important - I trust you've brought what I asked, Maria?" The one he identified suddenly rolled her eyes and huffed, before giving a lazy wave to her cloak, "Jeeze you're as direct as ever. Is he always like this? All business and no fun? Mind you, you might not like his sense of humor."

RED:
Red had her own way about her, she was a decent woman, always there to please others needs and wants; in some degree or another. She was an entertainer second and an owner to a business first. Her skills did not contain many talents, but she worked with what she had. She was never taught too much about Magic besides that it was dangerous and she should stay away. She kept that promise. Will just wanted her to stay away from it, and at times she questioned why, but she knew it was not her place. “I understand.” Was her simple answer to a complex matter? She understood that he was the magical one and she would always be the mundane.

When he spoke of change, something coming that could rock her world; there came to her stomach an uneasy feeling. Anxiety made her slightly shift her weight from one leg to the other; rocking slightly back and forth her hips in a very slow, fidgety motion. She was never prepared for change in her life and certainly was not prepared for it to happen, right now, right this second that he came into her life again. She went to speak some words to him, something, anything that came out, but then Maria walked in.

Two thoughts came over her mind, there was a weird expression on her face of neutrality masking her fear. No one just walked into her Tavern like that. Her lips parted to speak words again, but then the hood fell. Her fingers slipped under the bar without through and curled around a knife that was fastened to the flat bottom. Her hand resting on it. She was a fool to think a knife would save her, but it was her first reaction to the woman. Then, Aldrid spoke his words and Maria second. Her pale hands still lingered on the knife. Her second thought was the opposite of her first; she was lovely, in ever since of the word. It made the pit in her stomach feel large, vast, and unable to be filled. She was so petite, a childlike features still on her face, she did not look like a completely full grown woman and certainly not like Maria. Her auburn hair was what she considered the only endearing trait about her; a perfect mixture between a brunet and red head. The curves and lumps that woman had would compete with a mountain. Red was straight forward, you could look at her and count the number of edges she had, at least people knew what they were getting and what to expect. The lump grew in her throat, so this is what Aldrid was around? Were all the wild woman this beautiful? Red was already a healthy five foot five, and around Maria she felt like she was still a toddler and excited about seeing her childhood friend.

When Maria spoke of her and how she used to cry like a baby, she felt like it, right now. Shrinking up. Lords knew she was trying to not let her face show it. If she wanted to be treated like an adult, she had to act like one, but in the back of her mind, at least she knew why Aldrid never came home often. Would she if she was surrounded by woman like Maria and was a man. Temptation was sure there.

“We will have to wait until my father gets back, he knows were the package is.” Ah, and she finally spoke, getting that lump out of her throat, her voice was stern In her mind, but they may have heard something different; shaky, unconfident, and nervous. Her fingers tapped against the knife again, but she slipped her hands away, and went to get Maria a glass as well, but she already stolen Aldrids, so she replaced his glass with a new one thoughtfully and filled it.

ALDRID:
Maria watched the girl's reaction with obvious amusement and let out a soft sigh. She gave the girl a wink, and something about her gaze was rather knowing, as if she could tell what she was thinking, "Oh you misguided child~" she hummed, before flinching when Aldrid suddenly swatted her arm, "I thought I told you to behave. Red, believe it or not, but you've met Maria before." He got to his feet and walked over to her cloak before rummaging through the fabric, his dark muttering audible across the room, "Damnable woman - I always hated magic." Soon enough, he seemed to pull an impossibly large object from one of the pouches hidden in the folds of the fabric, and was instantly overcome with great relief at the object wrapped in dull brown cloth. He paused at the door and peeked outside, before shouldering the item and brought the heavy bar down along the door. Going to each window, he began to draw them shut, before making his way back to his seat.

While Aldrid darkened the room, the strange woman moved from her seat to sit on the bar, her long legs stretching out in open air, "Damnable woman? Mind you good sir, if it wasn't for me, you'd be in a heap loads of trouble." Her smile returned, and Aldrid whirled at her quip, his eyes narrowing as he growled, "And it's because of you that I've been in a far too much trouble that I care to remember." He jabbed an accusatory finger at her, which only made her laugh loudly with a musical note. Aldrid only sighed deeply and shook his head before walking back over to his seat and sat down, "You make me feel old, I swear tiy age me ten years anytime I see you."

Shaking her head she turned her attention to the young woman and proprietor of the establishment, "So my dear child. Come here, let me get a better look at you." She leaned forward and suddenly grasped the girl's face in both her hands, "My, my... you have a lot of your mother in you, I see." As she spoke, her tone dropped and she sounded almost sad, a hint of remorse lingering like a tailnote. "Ah... anyways, forgive me." She let her go and hopped off the bar to pace restlessly about the room, "So where's Willy? Is he still a smith? Bet I can find him in a heartbeat."

RED:
Child. Two syllables, four letter word she hated, she heard it about twenty times during this whole conversation. She. Was. Not. A. Child. When Maria said it, there was a pain in her face, she was insecure about herself already, everyone adding child on it was not helping her self-esteem any. She would, comply however to the magical mistress with snow white hair. With slow, steady steps she came out from behind the bar. Little did people know, there was a riser on the bar floor built just for her so she could be eye constant with the customers, once she stepped down and hung on the edge of the bar, she was just a little bit taller than it. This took her away from her security of her knife, and she honestly did not like it, but Aldrid would protect her, right? If Maria got out of hand? “I do not remember meeting…” She paused for a moment, “Maria.” Red did not know if they were on a first name basis or not, but she proceeded to say it anyhow.

Package on top of package. Aldrid whipped out a package from his coat, just as quickly as he pulled out hers. “Aldrid, dear, you have an obsession with packages.” First, he comes in asking if Red knew about a package, she toyed with him slightly, then she revealed that Will would know where it was. Then, he gave her another package, wooden box form, and a sphere was inside. Now Maria wanted a package. Well, Red be damned to hell if she ever had to hear the word package and child again in the same night. Someone was going to die or burn. Yet, of course, she could never do that.

All her thoughts vanished when her puffy cheeks were stolen by Maria’s hands. It was best not to anger a woman such as her, but when she touched her face she slightly winced and closed her eyes. She did not like to be touched, not be anyone, not even by Aldrid. There was something about flesh to flesh contant that did not sit well in her mind. Her eyes fluttered open, only one thing could have done that, talk about her mother. “You knew her?” She spoke in a hushed tone. Will never talked about her, and she learned to just say nothing. But she also did not know that her past, really, wasn’t her past at all. “My father comes home around midnight.” She said flatly, until then, they would just have to get comfortable. Red had no idea where he was, she never bothered to ask, he was a capable man.

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Re: Red and Aldrid First Meeting

Post by Admin on Mon Sep 21, 2015 1:32 pm

ALDRID:
Aldrid knew that if there was something Red had learned from Will, it was his stubborness. With a deep sigh, he suddenly looked old, and very tired before turning to Maria, "Go on, you started this, I'll let you tell her the story." His expression quickly grew sombre, and he pointed to a nearby stool, "Sit down, Red, this might surprise you a bit too much." He slowly began to unwrap the object wrapped in the cloth, and paused as Maria began to speak, "Well, where to begin... I would wait for Will, but I suppose there's no helping it." Closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose, and when she next looked at Red, there was a seeded sadness, "I suppose the best way to tell you, is that I was the one who killed your mother." The woman paused, and the room filled with an uncomfortable silence.

Eventually she seemed to collect her thoughts and began to speak again, "You were born in the later end of summer, bordering fall; the time of season where harvest is reaped, and the leaves begin to change - healthy, and very, very loud. You always cried and you wouldn't shut up unless I took you outside." Aldrid remained earily quiet, though it was clear his silence was uncomfortable. "Your mother wa-" Once more the door opened suddenly, and a tower of a man struggled through the tiny space, towering over them all. He looked about at them all and the sight of the two newcomers left him still as stone. Aldrid looked up from the object resting in his lap and Maria paused at the sight of the Highlander. After a moment or so, life seemed to return to him and he slowly made his way over to the bar, the floor boards creaking under his heavy steps, "Red, can yeh be so kind n'fetch this man a drink?"

Soon enough, an easy grin broke across the man's face, only visible with the crinkle of the corner of his eyes, and the slight rise of his thick orange beard. He smelt of sweat and metal, and his leather apron was stained with soot. A heavy set of tools hung from his belt, clinking against each other softly as he lowered himself into a nearby stool. Maria watched him with a slight smirk, though before she could give him her usual churlish quips, he only scowled and pointed a thick finger at her, "Now yeh 'kin hold yer tongue missy. I won't 'ear none o'yeh smartarsed talk." He turned to Aldrid and gave a hard not, the only greeting for a very old friend, "And what are yeh doin' 'ere? Yer early."

Aldrid gave a slight shrug and looked down to what lay in his lap, a silent indication for Will. The large man's mood quickly became as somber as the rest of the room when he had walked in and gave a slight grunt in understanding, "Aye, get on with it then." He rose to his feet once more and walked around the bar, stopping to put a large hand on one of his daughter's tiny shoulders and affectionately kissed the top of her head, "Just o'minute." He disappeared into the back and returned a few minutes later with a small package no larger than the palm of his hand, "Red not giv'n yeh too much trouble huh?" He chuckled and sat back down, before beaming a wide, loving smile at his daughter.

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