The Awesome Project

His name was Marlon Grey. A young man of twenty-eight years old, he had accumulated a vast fortune and had settled in the quiet fishing village of Haven. He lived in a large mansion, on top of a hill that overlooked the town. The mansion itself had been built by Mr. John Stevens, a wealthy merchant who, after having spent ten years lost at sea, returned to find his wife in bed with her new husband. In his rage, he killed them both, before throwing himself to his death off the second story balcony, upon which Marlon now stood dressed in his pajamas, waiting for his breakfast.

From the balcony, he could see his apple orchard, the grounds, the village square of Haven and beyond that, the sea. There was a knock on the balcony door and Marlon turned to see that Penelope Ashbury, his maidservant, had arrived with breakfast. She was at least twice the age of Marlon and a capable manager of his estate.

"Good Morning, Mr. Grey," she greeted him.

"Good Morning, Penelope. What do we have for breakfast this morning?"

"Two apple waffles, two eggs, a nice cold glass of apple juice," she said, placing the tray on the table. Marlon took his seat and tasted the waffles.

"Perfection Mrs. Ashbury. Sweet perfection."

"Thank you, sir. Do you mind if I ask you question?"

"By all means."

"Did you see anything interesting through the spyglass this morning?" Marlon swallowed another bite.

"I did indeed. I saw some ship sails coming over the horizon. I believe a merchant ship will be docking in about two hours. Which means we should also expect Mrs. Goose, Mr. Dahlia, and Constable Jones. Ah, I see Mrs. Goose is already on her way," Marlon said as he observed her coming up the hill. Penelope reached for Marlon's plate, but Marlon grabbed her hand with a firm grip.

"Mrs. Ashbury, I will not delay my breakfast on account of her or anyone else, not as long as I am lord of this house," Marlon said, before releasing her hand.

"Do you intend to keep her waiting in the parlor while you finish your breakfast?"

"I suppose it wouldn't do to keep her waiting. So, when she does arrive, bring her to me. I will be on the balcony, eating my breakfast."

"But Mr. Grey, you're not fit to be seen!"

"You're right. It wouldn't do for her to see the spyglass. Who knows what she'd whisper to anyone else she brings rumors to," Marlon said.

"But Mr. Grey!" Mrs. Ashbury said, but was interrupted by the sound of the door bells. Mrs. Ashbury took the spyglass, before leaving Marlon to go downstairs to hide the spyglass. When it was hidden, she answered the door.

Mrs. Goose entered. At the age of forty-five, she was a champion gossip monger and talked about everything, but said nothing of value. Her three daughters were single and her ambition of having one of them marry Marlon was well known to the general populace of Haven. Marlon had met each of them and had found them to possess a great deal more sense than their mother. For instance, they had enough sense to hide from their mother that they had already found some nice young men to settle with; but that they had yet to earn their fortunes. Their mother continued to live in ignorance as she was led up the stairs to the second floor. She spoke rapidly to Penelope, preventing her from making any apology for her master before they reached the balcony door.

The balcony door opened and Marlon sat as before, eating his breakfast. Unlike before though, his pajamas had been replaced with proper clothing, much to the delight of Mrs. Ashbury. The only sign that he had left in a hurry was some shallow breathing, which he cleverly hid by devouring his food.

"My dear Mr. Grey, how are you this morning?" Mrs. Goose asked. Marlon swallowed his food.

"I am well Mrs. Goose. As you can see, I am enjoying my breakfast. Have you eaten this morning? Please sit."

"I have already eaten, thank you. I have just come from town to give you the most exciting news..." At length she delivered the news of the day, starting with the sighting of a merchant ship and then progressing to the various pieces of news and drama that Haven had. During the hour it took for her recitation, the ship actually made port. Marlon was just about to get up and leave, when the door bells rang again.

A minute later, the balcony door opened once again and this time Talon Dahlia entered.

"Talon!" Marlon greeted.

"Marlon!" Talon returned. The two shook hands firmly and Marlon turned to his other guest.

"Mrs. Goose, may I present Talon Dahlia, the fifth best archer in the world and a dear friend of mine. When bandits ambushed me on my way to Haven, he rescued me himself. He can hit a thrown apple at a hundred yards."

"Mr. Grey, how you do play with me! I have no doubt that your friend is skilled in archery, but I can not imagine anyone being good enough to hit a thrown apple at one hundred yards with an arrow. I would wager five royals on that!"

"I do not believe that is a good idea, Mrs. Goose," Talon said.

"I'll take the bet if you are still willing to offer it. Talon has bow and arrows nearby, and as for apples, I have plenty in my orchard. Shall we go there now?" Marlon asked.

Gwendolen

Droplets of sun fell through the canopy of leaves, and danced over Gwendolen’s thin body. She reveled in the peacefulness of the silent grove, imagining just lying there forever. The soft grass cradled her body perfectly, and she needn’t have a care in the world.

If only this was the way things could be.

Gwendolen sighed and rolled onto her stomach. A pile of woman’s clothing, freshly washed in a nearby stream, dried on a large sun-bathed rock. They were simple, snatched from a small cottages clothes-line a hundred miles earlier, and would hopefully fit her properly. Gwendolen needed to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Months had been spent in preparation for this move. A lot of stealing had gone into gathering Gwen’s new possessions. It was important for her to recreate her lifestyle, to put up the appearance of a young widow traveling from the place her dear husband had perished. Clothing, trinkets, and money were the easiest. What had proved most difficult was the small cart to transport it all in, and the ladies saddle for her beloved horse.

Not to mention the special modifications the cart needed in order to successfully hide memorabilia of Gwen’s previous life, in case she found herself able to pick up the trade again in the future.

Gwendolen crossed her arms on the ground and rested her head in the hidden space they created. The silence of the small forested area surrounded her, yet there was a torrent of sound and action in her memories.

”Halt, thief!”

She paused on the top of the stone wall; crouched and balancing on one foot, a bulging sack slung over her shoulder. Where was he? And why was he taking so long to reach the wall? It had been a simple job, the guards shouldn’t have even heard them.

“Where are you,” she whispered, the white cloud of breath barely visible in the night. It wasn’t a question, but a statement, though she wasn’t sure why.

“On the wall!” Another voice in the night. Another guard.

Gwen looked out over the walled-in garden. He was nowhere to be seen. She worried for him, for his safety, and then she worried for her own. It was an odd feeling, caring for another’s well-being. She had perhaps only felt it once before. Yes, she had felt it once before.

“Fire!” The guard’s voice was close.

Before she could think to react, an arrow slid into the skin near her left shoulder. There was little pain; only the wet, sliding sensation covered her shoulder. Gwen fell backwards from the wall, landing hard on the ground on the opposite side. The bag, however, landed with the guards.

Gwen blinked several times on the ground. “Where was he?” she wondered again.

“Is this all she had?” one of the guards asked on the other side of the wall.

“Doesn’t matter,” another said. “If it’s not, we’ll find her. Lucky the Duke knows some pretty powerful magic-folk. With that arrow alone he could track her a hundred miles.”

As consciousness wavered in and out of Gwen’s mind, she ran. She ran away from the Duke’s estate, and away from the city. Unfortunately, she was also running away from the shady man who had hired a young man and a disguised young woman to rob the Duke of something very important to him.

Gwendolen would not soon forget that.

Slowly, Gwen pushed herself from the ground. Long, black locks of hair brushed the upper part of her arms. After a sharp inhalation of air, she scolded herself. The hair would take some time to get used to, but she couldn’t let it show that she was uncomfortable in it.

In the silence of the forest, Gwen stripped herself of her disguise of ragged men’s clothing – being sure to hide it away in the appropriate place of the cart – and donned the simple gown. She took care to adjust her hair appropriately, and pulled herself respectfully into her horse’s saddle.

It was now or never. Gwendolen was headed to Haven.

Talon | Docking Time at Marlon's Estate

"Mrs. Goose, may I present Talon Dahlia, the fifth best archer in the world and a dear friend of mine. When bandits ambushed me on my way to Haven, he rescued me himself. He can hit a thrown apple at a hundred yards."

"Mr. Grey, how you do play with me! I have no doubt that your friend is skilled in archery, but I can not imagine anyone being good enough to hit a thrown apple at one hundred yards with an arrow. I would wager five royals on that!"

"I do not believe that is a good idea, Mrs. Goose," Talon murmured to her.

"I'll take the bet if you are still willing to offer it. Talon has bow and arrows nearby, and as for apples, I have plenty in my orchard. Shall we go there now?" Marlon asked.

The rightfully plump Mrs. Goose gathered herself and stood, nodding with a huff before sizing up Talon. "Oh, dear me, Mr. Grey. I do believe you have yourself a wager!" With a quick curtsie, she left the room, quickly finding the maid to gossip down the stairs until the wager was to be set.

Talon grinned and pulled an iron-cast arrow from his quiver, looking it over for any imperfection as Marlon finished up his final swigs of the juice. "You dirty con-artist," Talon said in his low-note voice.

Marlon was slow to respond, his voice full of a chuckle and the rightful knowledge that Talon was right.

"You're quite well informed that I'm far better than that fourth-in-the-world archer, Lucius Harrins," Talon reached over the balcony railing to pick a fresh apple from the tree. "And you forgot that it was a pear I can shoot from two hundred and fifty seven hards."

Marlon grinned, letting out the last of his sleep-laden breath. "Yes, yes, off the head of a fair maiden on horseback while riding through the lilac fields of Watercrest Bay." He chuckled, leading Talon down and out of the estate, out into the orchard. "I've heard your blowhard story a hundred times." And then, Marlon gave it some thought. "Though..." His eyes slowly rolled to Talon, who was sizing up the size of the straightaway in which he would be shooting. "Mrs. Goose... She loves a good story by the ba-..."

"Don't even try it, Grey!" Talon laughed cheerfully, pointing an arrow back to the harbor. "As soon as your display of me is finished, I will be off to barter with a few tradesmen from this new corporation." Talon leaned in, stopping as they arrived at the stump from behind which he would fire. Whispering, he said, "I hear this merchant is all the way from the Thornwood Valley."

He grinned, eyeing the apple that Mrs. Goose had placed not too far away. Maybe at yard 180. 190, tops. As he drew his quickbow, he whispered again, aiming over Mrs. Goose's head to the small red target. "Which means the ship would've crossed the Siren's Quay," he shot the arrow, watching it zip right over Mrs. Goose's head and into the core of the juicy reward. "And that means that there'll be soldiers on board."

Marlon turned back to Talon, a bit shocked at the rare mention of a soldier. Talon glanced down the field, seeing Mrs. Goose clapping and removing the apple, shouting down the way. "Talon, dear, your marksmanship is quite astonishing!"

But that meant she was coming back. Talon cringed, buying himself some time. "Try moving it back much further, Mrs. Goose! I'll raise your wager by five gold on my part versus a night with one of your daughters!"

The excited old lady gathered herself and eagerly picked a new apple from one of the trees, sitting it on a stump nearly twice the distance away. "If there are soldiers, then," Talon drew back his arrow, focusing on the target, accounting for the wind and the thickness of the air. "Then you could finally get work again." He fired off the shot, watching it arch just as planned over the orchard, falling straight into the heart of the apple.

But something caught Talon's eye. The arrow had picked up an unexpected guest on its way down, and that guest was quickly multiplying, angrily. "Mrs. Goose!" he shouted, watching the red hornets gather in an angry swarm, picking their first target to avenge their destroyed home.

Talon dropped his arrow, ignoring Marlon and taking off in a mad sprint towards Mrs. Goose-- and the thousand killers around her.

*YAY!!! I AM SOOOO EXCITED!!! Hey Scarlettfire I am going to have Brother Gredon meet up with Cressida if that is okay...*

Brother Gredon

Gredon let out a heavy sigh as he ponderously moved down the dirt road. Little wisps of incense smoke drifted on the wind around him, flowing and dissipating, leaving a sweet smell in their wake. The smoke rose from a tiny bowl, attached to his staff by a thin leather strap. The strap was wrapped around a tiny metal peg which stuck out of the end of the staff, allowing the bowl to swing freely as Gredon moved along.

A few bells clung to the edge of his dirty brown robes, chiming softly with every he step that he took. Bethisdan guide my steps, my thoughts are clouded by darkness. Let your light reach me, let me be pious and true to your ways. A sudden gleam in the distance broke through Gredon’s thoughts, distracting him as he raised a hand to block the glare.

“Haven,” he whispered to himself as the first rooftops slowly appeared in the distance. It had been nearly a year since his last visit, and though this was one of the many towns he saw, it held a... special place in his heart. Though Haven was a small town, and extremely isolated from the outside world, it was one of the few places that Gredon had ever found peace. The people there lived simple, peaceful lives, with little thought to the outside world or the horrors that raged along their borders. They had something here that he had seen in few other places, they had joy. It was contagious. When traveling he would often have to wrestle with his own feelings, and even bouts of depression at times, as he struggled to understand the horrors all around him. Poverty, wickedness, and death seemed to greet him in most places. Not here though, at Haven he often was reminded why he did what he did. The small sea village was... infectious.

There were many good people who lived in this town. Many who did not share his same beliefs, or his religious affiliation. Some prayed to no gods, others served a myriad of heavenly beings. Yet they had won his respect in the past years, showing him that a disagreement on faith did not mean they could not be friends, that they couldn’t laugh or cry together. That there was more to people then just their early morning prayers. Many of them had hopes and dreams, plans to someday leave, to see the world, to change it for the better.


That was what drew him here. It was the thing that pulled on him, tugged on his heart with a yearning to return to this small community. There was so much potential. He could smell it, feel it just be being in their presence. He could recognize talent and drive, his long years in the army, and as an officer had showed him who and what men truly are. He could often tell those who were driven by passion, and those who were simply seeking to further their own aim. Haven wanted to see change, and he believed that many would be the catalyst for it. He wasn’t sure how, and he knew that many of his Brother’s disagreed, even disapproved of his feelings for the small town. He would remind them however that everyone was important to Bethisdan, everyone had a part to play, from the newborn babe crying in his mother’s arms, to the elderly man nearing the end of his life.

Gredon just wanted to help. He wanted to be there for the people. In a way he prayed that his devotion might make up for some of the mistakes he had made. That by trying to help others, to encourage them to follow their dreams, he might atone for all the wickedness of his own life. “Is redemption truly possible,” he softly whispered to himself. Part of him believed that it was, his faith embodied it, saying that no man was beyond saving. Yet at times it felt more like words, Gredon wasn’t sure if he could ever truly atone for all he had done. Unlike others though he refused to just wallow in self pity, to not] try, If forgiveness could be found, then he would find it.

As Brother Gredon slowly round the hill he detected the faint smell of smoke on the wind. As he came further along he saw a small camp fire burning by the side of the road. A small pack lay on the ground next to a bed roll, and a tall willowy girl was just beginning to put the fire out. Her sweeping blonde hair fell down around her shoulders and a cloak was fastened at her bosom.

Gredon hesitated for a mere moment at the sight of her. For a second he felt weary, knowing that bandits and robbers had become more problematic over the past few years in the area. He quickly brushed the thought aside, realizing no bandit would be foolish enough to camp so close to the city.

As he came closer the woman turned, the tiny bells on his robes announcing his presence. She paused for a moment, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of the Monk. Brother Gredon couldn’t blame her. He was a tall imposing man, wide of girth, and an intimidating figure, even though he was dressed as a monk. As he got closer he saw a small smile tug on the girls face as she said, “Brother Gredon? Is that you?”

Gredon slowed his walk as he got closer, studying the girl. She wore the clothes of a man, a simple leather vest and cotton pants that were covered by her cloak. Her skin was soft, pale, and she had large blue eyes that peered at him with recognition. She looked almost like an elf... “Cressida?” Gredon slowly said.

She smiled, looking almost relieved as she said. “Yep, its me! I am surprised to see you, I haven’t seen to many people along the road. I am actually on my way towards Haven.”

“As am I,” Gredon answered with a broad grin, “And I must say it is always nice too run into a friend, especially out here. Would you mind if I joined you, it is only a few more miles to the city, but I would love some company.”

“As would I,” Cressida said, as she turned and began to roll up her bed roll. Gredon walked over and began to help, stamping out the fire as Cressida gather her things.

Jack Johnathon

Jack paced up and down his ship, The Carzel; it was neither large nor small. For most of the ships voyage there had been a small crew. Jack who was just along for the ride, the captain who was called Fish for reasons un-know to Jack and a young ship-hand named Nick. However for the past week of the journey ten un ruly soldiers had joined Jack and his crew. Jack wished that he hadn’t offered them a lift back to haven for many reasons. Having to sleep on the deck because the cargo hold was full was just one of them.

The town of Haven was fast approaching. Soon Jacks journeys would be over, not that he planned to stay in haven long. Only as long as it took to say hello to old friends and stock up on supplies. Behind Jack a tired soldier stumbled onto the deck, his name was Aaron; out of the soldiers this was one of the ones that had a shred of respect. “I know who you are” Aaron said stumbling over. Aaron was struggling to get his sea legs. “Really, who am I then?” Jack said. He hadn’t told the soldiers who he was; it would of only caused endless badgering if he had.
“Your Jack Johnathan, don’t pretend it’s not you, I can’t believe it took be this long to figure it out” Aaron spoke quickly and looked as if he was talking to himself.
“It’s normaly hard to recognize people when your drunk” Jack replied, it was true in the week they’d been here the soldiers had celebrated the end of their campaign my consuming a months worth of larger.

“There’s a portrait of you up in the grand hall in the palace, saw it when I went for my medals ceremony” Aaron said. He was focused now looking straight at Jack. Jack finally turned around to face him and dropped his stony attitude.
“Well, I did save his majesty twice, to be honest a Portrait seemed like a bit of cheap payoff” Jack answered; he walked over and pulled the sails in. The tide was on their side and the wind had given them enough speed to drift into Haven neatly.
“Twice?” Aaron asked, Jack sighed. “He never counts the first time, never” Jack said to himself. Aaron asked what first time but Jack changed the topic to what they were going to do in haven. Aaron was very willing to speak about the glorious plans he and his friends had constructed, over the course of their tour.


As the ship docked Jack soaked up all the glorious sound, smells and sights that made up haven. His old friend friend: Natal was there to greet him. They greeted each other with a bear hug, the strain on Natal’s face made Jack feel bad for pushing him. “How’s life?” Jack asked as they began the familiar walk back to Natal’s house.

Macha

Night was clear as day, ironically, and Macha could swear that she had a perfect view of every star in the universe. The dead foliage beneath her calloused pads made no sound, and the refreshing night air was delicious and gentle as it ruffled the fur around Macha's neck. It felt so good to stretch her stiff muscles after a nice, four hour sleep. That was much longer than she was used to, actually.

Macha heard a shiver behind her and looked back to where Saare was sleeping like a rock. Apparently the sweet, refreshing air just seemed cold to her, (likewise - she had no fur!) and four hours wasn't enough sleep. Oh well, she looked peaceful there. Her long, straight, light brown hair was all over her soft facial features, giving her a messy but pretty appearance. She had her jaw set, and looked fierce even sleeping. Macha was sure Saare wouldn't miss her if she just went to gather more meat while she was asleep. So off she went.

Later, the fresh metallic taste of blood filled her mouth as Macha dragged an entire doe back to camp by her neck. Deer were heavy, but more useful to Saare than a couple of rabbits, which Macha would much rather be catching. They were easy prey. Knowing from experience, she kept the deer off of Saare's sleeping area. Why it would make her so mad that one dead animal bled a little on her supplies...well, Macha didn't know why. It wasn't as if she had done any wrong.

When Saare woke, she would skin the deer and store the meat, Macha knew. She always did. When she woke, they would travel more, this time to some place called Haven, and Macha couldn't wait. Seeing as Saare would be asleep for a little while longer, she decided to pass time by chasing rabbits. Rabbits were fun.

Noah

Eying the port warily, Noah heard the water lap up against the boat's sides, droplets freeing themselves into the air and landing on his cold, pale cheeks. He stood inches away from the edge of the dock, allowing passerby to send the young man paranoid looks as the wooden platform swayed back and forth. The salty wind swept his dark locks into his eyes, and he shook his head nonchalantly, blinking as more water sprayed his face.

The thin fabric of his gloves failed to protect his fingertips from the chilly autumn air, and he pressed them to his red lips and exhaled warm breath onto his hand. Rubbing his palms together, he shoved them in the pockets of his cloak before turning on his heel and stalking off the dock. He found out what he needed to find out, and for now, he was satisfied. His eyes quickly darting over the faces of passerby, Noah concluded that most would not consider his behavior odd, and that he was at minimal risk for being accused for the murder that was to occur later this week. His chest still tightened whenever he glanced at his reflection whilst strolling by a shop window. Not in disguise, he could be recognized. His heart beat quickened at the thought of being recognized.

Several hundred yards away from the port stood a hill, and atop that hill sat a large, elaborate mansion, housing a man Noah didn't care for. He did of course, admire his home, a living space probably teeming with delightful treasures. When the large, gruff man was away, the mouse will crawl in and rob him. That's how life worked, Mr. Gray. Noah didn't plan to loot the mansion any time soon, as enough was on his plate currently. And although his plate didn't look as delectable as it would if the idea of raiding the mansion was slathered across it, the promise of payment for his present task kept him just as motivated.

He strode along the dirt road of Haven, nodding at the men and women riding by on carriages. On the other far side of town was a forest, where hundreds of trees and their withering trunks clung to life, and thousands of weeds sprouted along the dusty, trodden path. Noah lived but several yards away in a freshly built stone cottage, furnished with items impossible to afford on the salary of a simple bartender who worked not three nights a week. He was heading that way, when he suddenly heard a piercing scream from the Gray residence. He stopped dead in his tracks. A distraction.

(The screaming from the hornets happens in the morning to afternoon hours.)

(Fixed.)

Name: Lorraine Ashford

Species: Human

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Occupation: Innkeeper's Daughter

Starting Location: Haven

Appearance: Lorraine is of average height and is very skinny, almost stick-like really. Her hair is long and straight, dark brown in color and her eyes are a yellowish hazel hue. She's not drop-dead gorgeous but she's pretty in an unorthodox way. Her beauty doesn't strike you at once but the more you see her the more you realize it. She often wears simple dresses in bright colors.

Skills: Lorraine knows how to cook, make a fire, heat water and tend to fevers and smaller wounds. She cannot cure them, only make sure the person is comfortable. She can also clean and wash clothes.

Flaws: Lorraine can throw a punch because of all the heavy carrying she does but she's otherwise useless in a fight. She can run fast, but not too fast. She's also very persistent when it comes to getting along with people - she *has* to get along with everybody or else she'll be bothered the entire day. Also has a tendency to insist on helping people.

Equipment: Pots, pans, food and blankets.

History:

Lorraine is the second child in a brood of eight. She's one of the two girls in a house full of brothers and, as a result, has learned to take a little ribbing and is a bit sheltered. She tends to baby her younger siblings.

She helps her father out a lot and so spends her time socializing with the customers, making friends and keeping them happy. She's good at arithmetic because she counts the money for the customers' payments.

Since her mother ran away with another man when Lorraine turned 18, she has taken over the household and runs everything, helping her father with day-to-day tasks. Though she covers it well, Lorraine is afraid of being abandoned after what happened with her mother. This is why she cannot sleep as long as she hasn't made up with some one.


Affiliates:

Talon - she knows him because once or twice he stayed at their inn. Has spoken to him, but only short conversations that are inconsequential.

Asele - One of Lorraine's childhood friends. She talks with Asele from time to time.

Cressida - Lorraine once encountered her when she was younger, although she doesn't remember now.

Noah - She knows him as a thief and tries her best to look out for customers by not letting him in when he tries to slip past. She can't tell though because sometimes his disguises are too good.

Kara's profile has my approval. Two more needed.

I approved Kara's profile. (I also need to post.... heh)

Approved ;D

Talon | Grey Orchard

Response time, as they say, was everything in that moment. Between Mrs. Goose's initial scream and Talon's swift leaps and bounds to get to her, he had retrieved a compact shell of an elixir mix, almost like a bomb.

"Mr. Dahlia! Help!"

Talon grabbed up the old lady, crushing the shell in his hand and releasing a pungent odor into the buzzing air around them. He tried to run; really, he did, but he had forgotten how hefty Mrs. Goose had appeared-- quite heftier than his scrawny muscles were capable of carrying. (at least in a dash) But the aromabomb had done its duty, sending the hornets packing without a second trace.

Talon knelt, looking at Mrs. Goose's face and hands, seeing the swelling sting marks. He counted seven. Looking up, Talon saw Marlon disposing of the hive not too far away. "Are there any healers in town?" he asked, his hands searching through his bag for what he called a quickdraw solution. In his hands, he crushed a few berries and picked out a tobacco leaf from his collection, mixing it all in until it became a mushy black glob.

"Here, Mrs. Goose," he carefully applied a small bit of the murky ointment to the stings, forcing a smile at the appauling sight of the woman covered in black goo. "I'm no healer, but this should ease the pain for now."

He looked up to Marlon, who stood ready by their side. "Let's get her back to the estate and you can go and see if there are any healers traveling through haven to see the ship today."

Talon nodded, and they both picked up Mrs. Goose, who seemed a bit delusional from the hornets. "Oh, dear, what nice eyes all your trees have. Is it their summer coat?"

"No, Mrs. Goose, they're all fed many carrots, though."

Talon began to woner if it was witty banter the two shared, or if Marlon had been stricken as well.

_____________
Haven Square
_____________

It was Talon's luck to need a healer in a town with no physician. Even the old shrine where the monks prayed was closed that day; everyone wanted to see the ship. Leaning back against the wall of a building, Talon sighed and looked out to the harbor. Is that ship even that grand?

Puzzled, he moved around the building to see a ship neither big nor small docking where the Thornwood ship was supposed to be. Not focusing on his surroundings, Talon was nudged to the side by a trio of girls dressed in matching blue dresses. Their cuteness didn't match the sent of horses nearby, and Talon deduced that he was near the Inn's stables.

But he had to keep aware of the feigning Mrs. Goose!

He turned the corner of the building and trodded into the small hearth room of the inn, seeing the Inkeeper's daughter stocking the fire. "Hello there, Miss Lorraine." A bit startled, she turned, smiling in the early-morning sunbeams. Her hair was a mess and she seemed to have little sleep behind her eyes. But...that was none of his business to point out.

"H-Hello, Mr. Dahlia. It's a bit early to be requesting a room, don't you think?"

Talon grinned, soaking in her good spirits. "I'd suppose so, though a room is not what I have come to inquire about."

She gracefully put down her half-logs and brushed the bark residue from her dress. "Then how may I help you?"

"I was wondering if there were any healers present..."