(121-11-19) Strangers part ways in Oldtown
Strangers part ways in Oldtown
Summary: The Braavosi Lady and the Dornishman finally reach Oldtown where they meet a local
Date: 19/11/2014
Related: The Stranger Series
Players:
Sable..Elyas..Camillo..

What is normally a one-day journey has become two with a large party laden with chests, clothes, furniture, guards and maids. The group made camp the night previous, and now just as the sun rises to it's height in the sky, the party finally, at long last, makes it into Old Town. They are not terribly weary, though some still walk with a sailing gait, and indeed most seem clean. Only one banner can be seen, draped off a cart - the Iron Bank of Braavos. Among the party rides one woman with long black hair in wiry curls. She wears a few beads of silver in her hair, giving her the appearance of finery without demonstrating decadance. Her gown is a simple brushed cotton of emerald green that shines in the sun, and is decorated by a heavy woven necklace of silver. She sits, tall and proud, on a horse as they enter the town.
But oh! A town plagued by plague is not a pleasant place. There's a smell and a dispair, and the group seems to slow as they first enter, the weight of the dead air slowing them down.

Yes, though the landing party may not look tired, there is scarcely a citizen to be seen who does not look exhausted, either from being sick with plague themselves or from having cared for those who are. This includes Camillo, who sits on a shipping crate, hunched forward a bit, with one shoulder propped against another crate. Few other ships seem to be coming in or going out.

Among the Braavosi party is a man who looks far more Dornish than Braavosi, clad in the mute colors of the desert, a piece of cloth wrapped around his head. His eyes are narrowed, scanning the town and the people as if for signs of the plague. One hand holds the bridle of his horse, the other rests on the hilt of his golden Dornish dagger.

As the party slows to a crawl in the town, Sable - the dark-skinned and dark-haired woman of wealth in the party - tugs the reigns just a little to slow her horse, to come alongside the Dornishman. "Elyas Seafarer," she says to him, her Braavosi accent thick in the common tongue. "It seems we are allowed to the city after all. Do you know your way here at all, where horses may be stabled and places of rest may be found?"

Camillo notes these new arrivals with a slow turn of his eyes, then wearily hops off of the shipping crate. He approaches the two new arrivals. "You'll know the city has plague," he says by way of greeting, though he respectfully keeps his head low.

Elyas pulls his lips into a lazy smirk at her words. "What am I now, a pirate or a tourist guide?", he asks her and shrugs, "I suppose stables should be easy to find." He turns to watch warily as a stranger approaches, the hand closing on the hilt on his dagger warningly. But when the man speaks, he relaxes a little bit. "So the plague is still raging?", he asks him, "I thought it was dying down with no new cases reported."

"Perhaps you may be both - a pirate with other talents," Sable shoots back, in a back-and-forth that she seems quite comfortable with. "I trust such a man as yourself has other talents." She may say more, but her eyes turn to the lowborn man that approaches. Her features draw into a frown of concern. "It is as this man says," she responds to Camillo but referring to Elyas. "We are told the sickness is fading. Were we told untrue?"

"Dying down," Camillo confirms, taking a step back when he sees Elyas's hand go for the hilt of his dagger, but he doesn't look frightened. He spares a glance for the lady as well and inclines his head. "But many businesses are not operating. People are recovering. People are…resting. You'll find it…quiet."

"Yes, I have many talents… and some of those you might yet find out about.", Elyas winks at Sable, already looking more at ease when the man confirms that the plague is dying down. "Well, then I guess the people can use a boost of fresh energy from abroad, won't they? Do you know of a decent inn with stables for the horses for Mylady here?", he then asks Camillo.

Sable nods at the lowborn man, her lips still drawn somberly. The gesture causes a few of those curls ornamented with silver beads to bob heavily. "I understand, good man." However, the comment from the rogue pirate at her side cannot go entirely unanswered, and she gives him a glance that is half-wry, half-reproachful. "We do not intend to cause discomfort for anyone with our arrival. But perhaps we might be of use with some businesses who have lost profits during closing," she recommends, glancing at one of her own guards for a moment. "Good man," she says to Camillo. "In addition to a place of lodging, may you also direct myself and my group to the Iron Bank's offices here in Old Town?"

"I can take you to an inn," Camillo offers quietly. He largely keeps his gaze to the ground. It isn't clear whether this is out of deference or shyness. "One that I think is still operating. Though I suppose they may be surprised to see you." He glances along the road. "The bank I cannot help you with. I am a newcomer myself. And I have never had need of any bank." With his dull, worn clothes and haggard appearance, that largely goes without saying.

Elyas bites his tongue when Sable asks for the bank and gets the response from the man. "I'm sure the Inn will be happy to see customers, won't they? Without customers, no income. No income…. no inn… Well, walk along, man, we'll follow you!", he urges Camillo as if he's somehow in command of the lady's entourage. Though as the carts set in motion, he nudges his horse closer to Sable's to whisper: "Perhaps you might want to find accommodation with one of the noble families rather. They probably have more food squirelled away than the inns."

The Braavosi guards did not much care for Elyas Seafarer when he first spoke up upon their landing. Their distaste only grew when they all took to the road together. Speaking for Sable's entourage now does not endear him to them, and there are plenty of glares - even one man who spits on the ground beside Elyas, on the side opposite from Sable so her eyes don't see. No friends here, Dornishman.
Sable nods her head to Camillo and his words, nudging her horse forward. She isn't expecting Elyas' whisper but it comes suddenly, and she tilts her face toward him in order to speak back. "I have no connections in Old Town that are not clients of the bank, and their charity would be inappropriate. While what you say may be true, I do not think it is an option for me, lest you may speak for me at the home of a noble who is willing to take in a strange foreign woman - even for the price." She smiles at that, for just a moment, before her somber tone returns and she looks to Camillo again. "Good man, how bad has it been here, this plague?"

"Some are still mourning dead children and fathers," Camillo mentions softly, "So their gratitude may appear muted. But surely it is as you say, sir." He pretends not to hear any of their conversation that is not directed clearly at him. He glances at Sable and nods once. "Bad, even as plagues go," he says. "Most of the Maesters were taken ill. They closed the city up entirely. A man could not even get out to gather herbs to help the suffering. Money has been lost by every merchant. Most families have seen death."

Elyas gives Sable a long thoughtful look when she suggests speaking for her at the home of a noble, then he shrugs. "Eh. Nobody would open their door to a lowlife like me, would they? And I still don't think it's entirely safe to stay here, lady.", he mutters, having listened to Camillo's tale of woe, "I think I'll rather sleep in a ditch outside town…"

"I am sorry for the loss of so many, and the pain of those souls who are left behind. And for your losses too, good man. Great must be the pain of one who witnessed such as this." She comments, as a waft of breeze brings the smell of death across the party. It is Elyas' words, however, that cause Sable to tug on the reigns and slow her animal to a stop. The party stops with her - after all, she pays them all.
"I understand, Elyas Seafarer. If it is your time to depart, and to return to where you would be most comfortable, I shall not endeavor to discourage you. If the plague is your concern, you may be suited to returning to the gates now, before you are exposed further. We will be well - with this good man to show us the way we Braavosi shall soon be safely settled."

"I have no one here and so lost no one," Camillo claims, but his glance lingers a moment on Sable at that gracious comment. He stops when the rest of them stop, and looks at the feet of Sable's mount.

Elyas looks he hadn't expected this sudden turn and dithers a bit. "Nah.", he finally says, "I'll see you safely installed at the inn first. Who knows where this fella here is leading you. Proceed, man!", he urges Camillo, "They lady is tired from the road and wishes to rest!"

Sable waits a moment before lessening her hold on the reigns, and the horse begins to trot forward again. She looks amused, for a moment, with Elyas. "I daresay this good man shall lead me no more poorly than the pirate has led me," She quips, before turning her gaze to Camillo again and her smile softens sympathetically. "It is a thing to remember to the Gods and when things are so dark as they are here, that those you do have in this world are away from this. I know I shall remember the same this evening, and be grateful for their health and safety. Would that such safety will return soon to these people as well … we can only hope."

Camillo just slightly tightens the corners of his mouth when Elyas implies he might lead the party astray, But he makes a brief bow to the fellow's command and leads on. "I have no one, lady, but like you I will pray to the Seven that the city be delivered soon."

Elyas chuckles softly and nods. "Touche, Mylady. Though you'll admit I'm a damn finer sight than this fella here.", he says, not caring apparently, that he might hurt the man's feeling. But for now he remains close to Sable, his expression firm and still a little distrustfufl.

"Finness of features is no measure upon a man's worth, I have found," Sable says. This time the look for Elyas has no wryness to it, but is one that is entirely harsh and reproachful. "Prayers for the safekeeping of strangers is a far better measure, I should think." She nudges the horse along just a bit quicker, a half step more.

Camillo doesn't respond to Elyas's aspersions on his general appearance but appears to take them quite in stride, if not cheerfully. He doesn't appear to be a man given to cheerfulness. Neither does he respond to Sable's defense, but one would probably not expect a common man who knows his place to join too much into the conversations of his social betters. He matches the pace of Sable's mount, and they do seem to be coming toward a part of town where there are more likely to be accomodation houses and taverns, though Camillo has taken care to lead them toward the better ones.

"Oooh, the lady's angry now.", Elyas realizes mostly to himself and seems happy to fall silent. Especially as they are being led to better streets filled with more people, so he pays more attention now to their surroundings, forever on his guard.

The silance is not discouraged by Sable, who returns her eyes to the man before her. As they come to the nicer part of town, she looks about, curiously. "Old Town appears as though it may be lovely when it is well. Good man, have you known this place before the plague? Would you describe it as beautiful, or lively?"

It smells better in this part of town, too. "I knew it briefly," Camillo says. "There was a festival. Most everything then was lively and beautiful and in service of the gods," he says, perhaps a bit wistfully. "I do not know what it is like all the time. But I believe it would be agreeable to live in for the better sorts as well."

"It's not bad here.", Elyas comments offhandedly, even though he wasn't asked, "Not as nice as the Dornish cities, but then what would you expect in the Reach?"

"I cannot speak to Dornish cities, for I know nothing of them but their reputed heat," Sable says, still not thrilled with Elyas if her tone is any indication. "Good man," She says, leaning forward on her horse to shift, trying to shake out the discomfort in her thighs. "Will you stay in Old Town, when the plague has faded?"

Camillo nods once to Sable. "Yes, lady," he answers. "I see no reason to depart now. Though someday fate may require it."

Elyas realizes that he's still in the doghouse and juts his chin out stubbornly. He starts looking around and when a pretty young woman catches his eye on the street, he blows her a kiss with his hand. The girl blushes, giggles and flees into the next-best shop. And the Dornishman preens just a little bit.

The display by Elays gets a little 'ah' sigh from Sable's throat - a sound of disapproval. She bites a little on her lower lip, sucking it in just a little in a display of light anger. But she's able to set it aside, to continue with Camillo. "I imagine most fates require us to move from one place to another at some given time. But I pray that this place shall be a happy one for you. May I ask, are we near to the Inn? Do you know by what name it goes?"

Camillo seems rather humbled by Sable's well wishes for him. "Thank you, lady," he replies. "There is an Inn just there," he says, pointing one out. "I don't know the name, but I've seen good merchants in fine clothes come out of it. I believe they did not suffer too heavily."

"Looks decent enough to me.", Elyas decides and guides his horse towards the inn before dismounting in front of it. Then he waits for Sable, holding one hand out to her in case she wishes some assistance in dismounting.
<Public> Camillo says, "Oh God…when your former students ask awkward things on facebook…"

Sable takes the offered hand so that she may be assisted down - she's wearing a dress today, and keeping everything covered and just-so does require some doing, so help is appreciated. He doesn't get a smile though, but he hasn't earned himself another glare.
Sable turns from the Dornishman immediately, moving toward Camillo to offer him a coin. "For your services, good man. And…" She fishes out another coin from her purse. "For your patience with my guest."

Camillo takes the coins without demurring, though he is careful not to touch the lady's hand. "The lady is very generous," he comments with a bow that is actually quite correct. "I will pray for your happy installation in our city."

Elyas waits until the man has gone his own merry way, then approaches Sable, offering her the reins of his horse. "Your horse, of course. Call me what you like but I am not a horsethief, mylady.", he says and tilts his head slightly, smiling. "So I guess this is goodbye."

Sable turns, her hands folding lightly before her. She looks down at the reigns and then reaches out to take them, offering them to one of the guards so that he can lead the horse away. "You did promise you would not steal from me. I did not think you should go back on such a word. Particularly, if you had intended to, you had the opportunity for much more than a horse." She looks up at the Dornishman, eyes meeting his once more. "I daresay it is, Elyas Seafarer. No doubt your friends shall soon be seeking you for your futher business ventures."

"Probably…", Elyas nods and looks at her with what amounts to a genuine fond smile. "You are a fine lady, and I hope you shall find here what you seek. Now, before I go… as you know I took nothing that was not mine… how about a little parting gift to remember me by?"

"A gift?" Sable says, amusement slipping into her features and tone once more. Her arms fold lightly over her front but lower, beneath her bust so as not to appear too closed-off. "Why does the prospect of a gift from you, good man, make me uneasy?" She asks, good-naturedly.

"I was hoping for a gift from you… a souvenir from Braavos if you will.", Elyas clarifies, "You know I am poor, I have but little to give… but I'd be happy to give it…", he adds, looking at her expectantly.

"Perhaps you should learn Braavosi, good man, for it is clear my common tongue is too poor to pass between us," Sable says, not embaressed but rather giving a healthy chuckle. "Very well, I do not see it as too great a harm to be giving today." She turns and speaks in Braavosi to Serah, who has ridden up beside her mistress. The girl slips away for a few moments. "You know, the best gift from Braavos would be a gift from Braavos. As a sailor I am surprised you do not have several already."

"Well, I might have some… but something from a beautiful lady would be rather special, wouldn't it? If I want to remember Braavos, I can buy one of those little wooden gondolas you sell on every market… but what use are they to me?"

"I daresay when you are married with your own children, Elyas Seafarer, you shall think differently on such trinkets. They have been known to entertain for hours - even myself, when I was young." Serah returns, handing over something to her mistress and stepping back - but making large eyes at the departing Dornishman. It is a purple scarf, naturally fine, with knotted tassles on the end, but with a great man with an upheld sword embroidered on it - something anyone who has been to Braavos will recognize. . Simple but expensive. She presents it with both hands to Elyas. "I hope, at least, this gift is equivelant to the time you have spent with us."

"Oh, how beautiful.", Elyas acknowledges as he accepts the scarf and begins to slowly wind it around his neck. "Whenever I feel it upon me, I will upon it as your loving embrace, Mylady.", he smiles, "Thank you." He reaches for her hand and unless she's run screaming for the hills, he'll bring it up to his lips for a gentle but fairly lingering kiss, while he looks up into her eyes above the hand.

"You are welcome, if it pleases you," Sable replies, being kind in tone but selecting her words carefully so as not to be particularly forward. Or perhaps she just doens't know forward words. She allows her hand to be taken, and does not fault away from his gaze but rather smiles to it. Poor Serah is nearly huffing, though she's quite discrete about her dissapointment. The shuffle has begun - men are unloading the trunks, bringing the horses in, all the rest. "Where shall you go, from here?"

"We'll see where the winds shall blow me.", Elyas replies, once the kiss is broken. "May the Seven guard your way, Mylady." He bows deeply to Sable, then saunters off, down the street… on his way to wherever

"And you, Elyas Seafarer," Sable says, smiling as he turns to go. She'll watch him for awhile, a few moments at least, before someone is at her elbow, asking if she'd like this or that, or where a certain trunk should be moved. She looks back once more, but is then pulled into the fray.

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