Eyes and ears

Breelands Weather

The early morning winter air is cold and dry around you. The day sky is cloud-filled and gloomy.

Parlour

A cheery fire crackles in a stone hearth at the eastern end of this small parlour. A few low and comfortable chairs sit around the fire, covered with a light brown and green checked material. Standing in the centre of the room is a small table with a few chairs set around it, a crisp white cloth laid over the top of it. In the middle of the table rests a large silver handbell, set on a platter in between two tall candlesticks. Sunlight streams into the parlour from the long window on the northern wall of the parlour.

Contents:

Cordelia

Obvious exits:

Out

[Frarin] Through the solitary long window looking in on the parlour comes the gloomy grey light of morning. A glance outside shows the world to bear all of the overcast cheer that a typical December morn can garner, but it is not touched at least by frost, for little moisture hovers in the air. Within the parlour itself there is little to disturb the morning, save perhaps the sounds of arriving breakfasters at the common room next door. But otherwise only a well-tended fire in the hearth crackles to break the silence.

Well, perhaps that is not all truth. For indeed, one of the brown and green chairs near to the fire is filled, the dark brown hair of its occupant barely poking over the top of the low back as it faces the door. The smell of sweet pipesmoke fills the air around Frarin the silver merchant and drifts away from his chair, and on a table beside him is a plate with the remnants of a hearty breakfast. Across his lap lies a violin, of all things, made of a rich dark wood but missing two of its strings. Indeed, it seems to be this problem that the dwarf seeks to remedy, for even now he is stringing a new line from top to bottom, humming as he does so.

[Cordelia(#1394)] The fire is well tended because Cordelia, hair tied up in a cloth and soiled apron on to protect her one dress--has been scuttling about the rooms, lighting fires, stirring and collecting ashes and setting in a store of firewood for each hearth. She returns to the parlour now, but this time it\'s because she was told to collect the customer\'s dirty dishes and see what else he might require. \"Morning sir,\" she says dourly, her words out before she is even fully in the door--so that she would have not idea who she is speaking. \"Is there anythin else I can be gettin ya?\"

And then she looks up, spying the dwarf. Her lips press together. \"Oh.\" Then, with an effort, a smile--it looks genuine, perhaps. \"I though the dwarves had left?\"

[Frarin] The dwarf fails to look up as the door to the parlour opens, or even as the voice of a woman comes from behind. Eyes narrowed and teeth clenched around the stem of his pipe, Frarin\'s attention is intent upon slipping that string, just there, little bit more - ah! Success as the string holds at last at the scroll of the instrument, though of course it still needs tightening. But that can wait.

Frarin\'s gaze comes up, a frown upon his face as the sourness of the previous words seems to register. He looks around and spots Cordelia, offering her a nod. \"Good morning, lass,\" he greets, polite though still with a wondering glance. \"Aye, we are still here. And likely to remain for the rest of the winter, by all appearances. Still enjoying your work here or was that dissatisfaction I detected a moment ago?\"

[Cordelia(#1394)] The sour note eases a little as the dwarf expresses his concern. Cordelia shrugs and moves toward the fire to tend it, but not before she takes a good long look at the violin. \"Have to get up early in the dark and cold, and it\'s cold right down to your bones, like I never knew,\" she answers with an involuntary shiver at her own words. \"I\'ll be spending me wages on trying to find warmer clothes or I\'ll be catching my death, I figure.\"

She moves the logs around with the fire poker, then adds another to the hearth. \"You play fiddle? Is that something dwarves do? And why would you want to stay here in the cold and damp? Aint your homes warmer?\"

[Frarin] \"Fiddles, flutes, drums, horns,\" answers Frarin as Cordelia moves in to tend the fire. \"Music is in the soul of my people, and has ever been. This, alas,\" and he thumps a knuckle to the instrument on his lap, \"needs repairing before it will play again. It sat for many hot months in the elements. But I may yet put it back together.\"

He begins to gently tighten the newly placed string, eyes narrowing once again as his attention goes to his work. A whiff of smoke drifts up from his pipe and past his ear. \"The cold and the damp is no bother to me,\" he continues, speaking around the stem of his pipe. \"I have spend many years in it, though it is not so pleasant for some of my kin, I admit. But it is December already, twould be folly to depart for the mountains when bad weather is already upon us. Although, more than that perhaps, there is still the matter of the death of one of our company that needs solving. If it still can be.\"

[Cordelia(#1394)] A dark look crosses Cordelia\'s face and she turns toward the fire, poking at it fruitlessly, since the new log has already caught. A scattering of sparks flies out toward the hearthstone where she sits, and she quickly brushes off her apron. \"I don\'t like to talk about death so much. Seen too much of it, too recently.\" Another poke to the fire, more sparks land harmlessly. \"Folk say he was robbed. The dwarf who died. Or some say he was besodden and tripped and drowned in the creek\"

[Frarin] \"Aye well, you\'ve come to the right place to avoid talk of dark things,\" Frarin continues, still concentrating on restringing the violin and thus missing the dark look that crosses Cordelia\'s face. He doesn\'t say anything for a few moments after the woman mentions some of the rumours she has heard, not until the string is satisfactorily tightened. He gives it a pluck. A very obviously off-key note rings in the quiet parlour.

\"Folk say a lot of things,\" the dwarf answers at last, plucking one of the other strings as he attempts to tune the instrument. \"But he was neither robbed nor tripped.\" And now Frarin looks up and gives Cordelia an attempt at a assuring smile. \"Still, I will not burden you with a subject you do not enjoy.\"

[Cordelia(#1394)] \"Well, it\'s your folk--your kin. Not like you can sit and talk pleasnatly about the weather after something like that happens, is it?\" Cordelia answers, mouth twisted in a frown. She turns that expression on the fire, then resumes poking the logs about, sparks flying everywhere until she maneuvers them so that another log can fit. \"So if you want to talk about it, I\'m willing to listen. Was he robbed?\" she continues, dropping her voice. \"Is it safe here? That boy...\" she struggles for the name momentarily..\"seemed to think not.\"

Tending of the fire done, she gets to her feet and brushes off her dress and apron. \"Hope your music is better than that,\" she notes as the string sounds off-key. \"Be awful to be here all winter and hear nothing but music gone sour.\" She grins, though, to take the edge off those words. \"Even if you\'re used to cold and damp, I imagine your kin might scatter if your music was too often out of tune. And the customers here, too. No customers, I don\'t get paid. And then I don\'t eat.\"

[Frarin] \"Yes, my kin,\" Frarin muses, looking again to his work. \"Though I was not so friendly with him myself, but a dwarf is a dwarf. And there has been enough death in our company this past year. But safe, you ask?\" he repeats with a frown, considering as he watches Cordelia tend further to the fire. \"As safe as Bree has ever been, I suppose. I warned you against wandering alone once, I believe. Perhaps that is true still, but not because of threats from the wild.\"

He pauses, looking up from his work now and eyeing the woman. He frowns in thought, as if considering whether to continue or not, but gives a shrug at last. \"Well, I suppose you will hear sooner or later, working at the inn as you do. And indeed, perhaps you might help. But it is believed among my company that Norli was killed by a citizen of Bree. He was not robbed, you see. Or at least not enough for it to be obvious. And yet his death did not appear natural. Were it bandits behind his death, as we thought at first, there would be no reason /not/ to rob him. But to leave certain unique valuables behind implies to me that someone suspected they might run into someone who would recognise them.\"

Frarin\'s voice has sunk now, and he glances over the back of his chair. \"But pray do not speak openly of this. Simply keep your ears open. I would not wish to offend the town that has been so good to our company.\"

[Cordelia(#1394)] \"Well of course,\" Cordelia answers quietly, picking up the plates and responding to Frarin as he speaks. \"My mother was from here, and from the way she spoke of the area, she considered everyone here her kin.\" She looks up briefly and smiles, but that fades quickly. \"So if anything were to happen to kin...\" She lets it go at that and busies herself, stacking plates and fixing and straightening the small nicknacks in the room. Her activity seems to grow a bit more frenzied as the dwarf speaks, until at last he finishes his explanation and she turns to him, her narrow angled eyes wide in a stare.

\"A Breelander? But ...it wasn\'t bandits? Why would anyone go to the trouble of killing someone and then ...I mean...was it a fight? He give offense to someone? I...I don\'t understand...\" Indeed.

[Frarin] Frarin raises a brow at the woman as she pours forth a string of curious questions. \"You\'ll blend right in, lass,\" he says with a touch of amusement. \"Just as curious as any Breelander. Though I can see why, it is a strange situation after all.\" Heaving a sigh, he gives another shrug. \"Why would someone go to the trouble? I don\'t know. But there was a cut and bruise at the back of his head, though he was found face down. Struck behind, like as not, not a fight I should think. Not a fair fight, rather.\"

Pulling his pipe, he grows thoughtful for a moment more. \"But that is why we are stuck as we are. That Norli was killed we are in little doubt of, yet why? If he was struck from behind, there could have no argument, unless it was long-standing and we know of no one who held a grudge against him. And yet he was not obviously robbed. Your guess is as good as mine, lass.\" Well. Perhaps.

[Cordelia(#1394)] Still-wide eyes of dark brown gaze at Frarin, Cordelia\'s expression grave as she answers, pressing the dwarf further wtih more questions. \"But surely someone must have seen or heard something?\" she asks earnestly. \"I mean, things like that don\'t happen here--not in Bree. People may have fights and such, but there\'s no killing and the like. It\'s a peaceful town.\" The firelight glints off of the young woman\'s eyes as she speaks, making her look more like an outlander than usual.

[Frarin] Frarin frowns at the woman and is silent for a moment, dark eyes flicking from her to the fire and back again. \"You yourself are not from Bree. You have seen the world, and too much death, you say. Do you really believe that Bree is as peaceful as all that? It is a good town, and I am fond it, do not misunderstand my words. But it has its own share of secrets. Indeed, perhaps more than other places, for strangers pass through regularly.\"

He falls silent again, gaze going to the fire. Though, after a moment, his frown deepens thoughtfully.

[Cordelia(#1394)] \"I don\'t think of such things,\" Cordelia mutters quickly, bending down to pick up one last dirty mug. In doing so she hides her face and the darkness that crosses over it, and when she looks up, all that is left is a sort of determined yet blank expression--her voice equally so, as if the memories are too painful. \"Those things are behind me,\" she says flatly. \"Bree is safe,\" she insists, eyes narrowing at the dwarf. She stares at him for a moment--the plates in her arms clatter, either from being overbalanced or because her hands are suddenly shaking. Then she breaks her gaze quite suddenly and hurries out of the room. \"I\'ll have one of the boys bring over your bill for this morning\'s fare.\"

[Frarin] Frarin\'s brows come together as the plates clatter in Cordelia\'s hand, though certainly his expression looks more concerned than anything. Perhaps he understands the touchiness of the subject for the woman, for he again attempts something of an assuring half-smile. \"Aye, thank you, lass. And do please keep an ear open, twould do my comrades and I some good to get to the bottom of this. We\'ve had far too little cheer of late.\" Then, when she is, he returns to his violin, though he no longer hums so cheerfully as before.