abardacttofollow | QUIET MOUNDS

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QUIET MOUNDS - STEF HEART

You find yourself in a stone room that looks like some sort of medieval dungeon. There are (thankfully), no torture instruments, but there is a man strung up here. One large manacle is around his neck, chaining him stiffly to the door. His hands are free, but each foot is manacled to the matching bottom corner of the doorframe. There is a visible lock on each of the three manacles.

It's Stefen, and there's a knife in his chest. Despite that, he's alive, apparently alert, and doesn't look to be in pain, perhaps due to the lulling, sense-dulling music that seems to be coming from nowhere at all—in fact, if you were in pain before you entered, it's gone here. His wound is bleeding, but only a little, and he smiles his usual bright smile at you.

Behind him, but in front of the closed door he's bound to, you can see three double sets of strings running vertically. Where they meet the floor, they are fastened, and then each runs across the floor to the three doors on the opposite wall, then under them.

There is nothing else in this room.

((OOC: Here's how this will work! Since we're doing individual runs, rather than me putting up individual top levels for areas, just jump the post itself, and I'll run everything for you within your one thread. If you're wanting to do a run with someone else, just stay in the same thread together.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You can see a package of something near the bottle on the old woman's bed, and the tin whistle and same moldy roll in Stefen's. The roll does have a few more bites taken out of it.

[something he ate as best he could till he choked on it? possibly.

moves delicately towards the package, lowering her nose to touch it]

There appears to be some kind of powder in it. Stef stiffens up. "Careful..."

[steps back]

:Dangerous--?:

"It's a drug, dreamerie. She uses that and drink in lieu of love."

[gently]

:I see. Thank you for warning me.

Lad, what's your name?:

"Stefen," he mumbles.

:My name is Yfandes.

May I ask you something, Stefen? Just while you finish up...:

"Okay?"

:Thank you.:

[a little rueful]

:This is going to make me sound addled, but... you sing love songs, don't you. And you just mentioned that she uses drugs instead of love. What does love look like, to you?:

Edited 2017-08-06 03:45 (UTC)

"I don't sing anything much... just whatever I hear around. I guess her love is the only love I know."

:I see.

Do you still play the whistle?:

"I mean, I do sing," he says. "Just, not, love songs?" He wrinkles his nose. "I don't get the, um. Appeal."

:Oh, no, I perfectly understand! And I'm sure your voice is beautiful. I just wondered if you still played as well.:

[carefully tugging at the bottle in the sleeper's hand ~~with her teeth I guess~~]

"I try," he says shyly. The bottle comes free in your teeth.

:I have confidence in you.:

[...adds the bottle to the platform, but also a lock of her own mane, tugged out with her teeth; she doesn't want to leave such a poor commentary on love without offering something of herself, too.]

Click. The door unlocks.

"Thanks," Stefen says, even more shyly.

:Make sure you're careful while you're out.:

[...nuzzles his hair briefly before she heads through the door]

This is another outdoor scene, similar to before, the room an 'alley' running between two buildings, both clearly houses of ill repute; judging from the crudely drawn images on their signs, one caters to men, and the other to women. The lighting is dim, and the ceiling is painted like a clouded-over night's sky. The cord runs through the room and then up, being held by a woman standing there; you may recognize her as Bard Lynnell. You can see a key in her other hand; she's spinning it at the end of one finger. She is tall and fierce-looking, stern and alarming, dressed head to toe in scarlet.

As before, there's plenty of garbage scattered around.

"You," Lynn calls out. "I don't suppose you know what the weight of duty is?" She apparently also doesn't see you as you are or she wouldn't be expecting an answer.

[tilts her head]

:. . . I'm not sure I know the answer you're looking for, no . . .:

"Well, I'm looking for a boy," she says. "I've heard that there's a potential Bard who's been singing around here and I want to bring him in to do his duty."

[pricks her ears]

:Is that what Bardic service is to him?:

"I don't know what it is to him," she says. "But it's what it is, isn't it? A Bard belongs to Valdemar."

:How did you feel about being recruited, Bard Lynnell?:

"I mean, it was a delight. I was pleased to serve the Queen."

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