Hal. Travels and Travails.

[Pseudonym]

*snip*

That's it. Don't hold back. Screaming is okay. That's gotta hurt plenty, no-one could deny that. I ain't gonna think less of you. Uh uh, no way. There really is no shame in those tears friend. Sheesh, I'd reckon not one man in a hun'nerd could take that and not scream at least a little. So, you go right ahead, let it all out. That's it. Good boy.

*a lengthy pause*

You think my babies screamed at the end? I reckon they must've. As I said, in my experience there ain't none too many that don't ... and certainly not kids. They scream quicker and louder than most I find. What do they care about tryin' to be brave and hold it all in? Makes you wonder if they ain't truly got more sense than the rest of us. Recognising the inevitable and just letting go, know what I mean?

*snip*

Hey, don't you go anywhere, wake up! It's not going to be that easy

*laughs in a good natured manner*

We're not finished yet cheeky monkey.

*a soft incantation, healing magic flows, a soft groan*

You're back with us again? Excellent. I wasn't paying attention there and almost lost you. Sorry about that friend. Sheesh, you sure are a bleeder ain't you? What was I saying again? Yeah, that's right, kids. I like kids. I reckon they got a lot to teach folks like me. Some real good lessons if you're payin' attention. How many kids you got fella? Three? Same as me! Whaddya know. I only saw the one of them back at the road. The other two must've run off when I hit you with that spell. Now, don't fuss none, there's a town not too far from here. I reckon they'll most likely find their way there before dark even. They'll be fine. Plenty of kids grow up with no daddy. Kids are adaptable, ain't they? There ya go. More proof that those kids are onto something we've all forgotten. Another lesson.

*snip*

Well, I reckon you're just about your end. I swear, I thought you and I would be chattin' for hours, you bein' a big strong fella an' all.

*a little shrug*

Just goes to show, whaddya know?

*laughs*

That rhymed! I should be a minstrel ... well, you know, if I wasn't busy doing this...

*snip*

[Pseudonym]

The room is hot. Uncomfortably so. Though the stone walls, some two feet thick or more, normally provide an adequate protection that the weather conditions outside bear little relevance to the temperature inside, such is not the case this day. Two weeks of stifling heat in the mountains have eventually overcome whatever insulation qualities the thick stone wall provides and the chamber is hot.

The two men occupying the chamber could be a study in contrasts.

One, tall and well dressed in a black silk robe. He is clean-shaven, fine featured and his long hair is tied back neatly into a pony tail that reaches halfway down his back. His eyes sparkle with an almost preternatural intelligence. He is standing, washing his long-fingered hands at a small basin.

The other occupant is dressed more simply. A plain and coarse spun tunic underneath a vest of chain links, speckled with rust and dried blood. He is seated next to the autopsy table, elbows resting on knees, his attention apparently completely focused on his present activity.

His present activity. Not long ago, perhaps three or four months if he had to guess, the seated man had been in the city of Vehl. Just passing through, staying the night at a dockside inn. There, he had watched a man flicking coins across a tabletop, one coin, two coins, three coins and more. Before long, the entire surface of the table was covered in spinning and dancing coins. How the coins twinkled in the firelight. The seated man could not set coins to dancing. His fingers were thick, blunt and scarred. They were more suited to the wolf's work and the raven's feast than recreating parlor games. However, it pleased him to remember the tricks he had witnessed in the Vehl inn as he tried (with mixed success) to flick the blood dripping from the edge of the autopsy table with his forefinger.

Miss.

Miss.

Got one.

Miss.

Close.

Miss.

Got one again.

Without looking up, he remarks to the room's other (living) occupant.

"Count me in."



// Alandric appears in this CDT entry with permission from Polak76. //

[Pseudonym]

I stood for long moments contemplating the pool of blood. People always refer to blood gathering in pools. I could see why, in this light, it did look 'poolish' I suppose. By the same measure, it also looked like a puddle of blood. You don't hear about blood spreading out in a puddle though. Not often. Anyways, the pool of blood spread in little pulses, slow and even, in time with the lady's heartbeat. I thought her heart might have been beating faster ... but no, quite slow really now that the end was near. I dare say even my own heart beat was faster than hers. Maybe just a little. Not by much.

I ran my forefinger through the blood. It left a faint trace, a thin line of my doing that disappeared in a few moments. I tried to write a word in the blood, APPLE. Not sure why I chose APPLE, was the first word to pop into my head. I remember drawing an apple when we were teaching the kids how to spell. A for apple. I couldn't think of a reason not to write APPLE. They're tasty enough, probably even my favourite fruit. One of. However, I do enjoy a nice orange when they're in season. My blood-APPLE was gone in moments too. The 'A' had disappeared before I had finished the second 'P'. Maybe after the blood had congealed a little I might be able to get a whole word out. Maybe APPLE again, or, maybe something else. I might try the word, HAVEN. I had stayed in a small city by that name just yesterday. A pretty name for a pretty enough city. I'm not sure this fair lady found the irony of her city's name amusing. Probably not. I did ... though I didn't laugh out loud. It wasn't that funny. I suppose it was more interesting than outright funny.

I took a deep breath. The air smelled coppery, of course. It's a hard smell to describe to those not familiar. I mean, everyone has cut themselves, right? But, it really takes quite a pool to generate that coppery smell. You can't get that smell happening from a shaving nick, no way.

I wonder how many people go through their whole lives and never get to experience that smell. Probably lots. Not me though. Not me at all.

It's been a long day. I think I'll sleep well tonight.

[Pseudonym]

The man and the girl walked slowly, hand in hand, down the cobbled path.

Are you okay down there? Not chilly? That's only a thin tunic and it'll be sundown before you know it.

Nah, i'm okay.

Sure?

Yep.

Okay, let me know if you get too chilly. You'll do that?

Okay.

... Minutes later.

Okay, if you ain't cold, what is it? You're looking pretty glum down there.

I'm not cold b... but, are we going home soon?

Sure we are. In just a jiffy. I just wanted to ask you something before we head back, is that okay?

I guess so.

How old are you? I know I asked you before but I've forgotten already.

I'll be eight next harvest. A proper big girl.

Well Missus proper big girl, I had this peculiar thought been rolling around in my head all day. I thought you might be able to help me out.

I guess I can Mister ... but ...

But what? Go ahead, it's okay.

But ... why you asking me? We only just met. Why wouldn't you ask a grown up?

Not sure I know how to explain.

You can just tell me Mister.

Okay, I guess I can. That there, what you said just then, is exactly the reason why. Your papa or mama ever ask you a question and you tell them the answer you think they wanna hear? Not really the answer that's in your head. You ever do that?

I guess so. Mama says I should always tell the truth so I try to do that Mister but sometimes I ... well, I know I get in less trouble if ... you know ...

I do know. I know exactly what you mean. Well, I'm gonna ask you this question cos' grown ups get real good at telling you what you wanna hear and you just can't tell what's truth sometimes and what's ... made up. I want to hear the truth.

Okay, I guess that makes sense.

I'm real glad. I knew you were a smart one when I first saw you. Here goes. I'm a wee bit older than you and I been travellin' for some time now. You ever noticed how stories of ... how do I explain? You ever notice stories of bad folks and monsters and scary stuff that your mama says might happen if you don't do your chores and the like normally involve men, rarely women? Surely there are just as many women as men who ...  how do I say? Feel the same? Have the same potential for savagery? Or, do they? Is there something about being a male that lends itself to hate and madness and death? Something innate? Something deep within that begs for release? I guess I wanna know ... what do you think?

I ... I dunno mister. I never had any of what you're talking about. *the beginning of tears* Can we go home now? Papa will be getting worried if i'm not home soon.

Don't fret, the end of the road is just up ahead a ways.

No, it isn't! It's back the other way!

This is a shortcut. Only grown-ups know this way. It's not far now, honest.

Honest?

Honest.

[Pseudonym]

The two dockworkers swore long and loud and with such a proficiency even some of the passing sailors (fresh onto the docks off a sleek cutter from Liwich) had cause to turn and nod their heads in admiration. The day itself was hot. Blistering hot ... in a literal sense. The men's hands were red raw from lifting and carrying box after box, bale after bale, keg after keg from their vessel's deck to the waiting wagon. Box, bale and keg that had sat baking in the sun all day long. The *adjectival* wagon they were quick to point out was forty *adjectival* yards further away from where it might have been had the *adjectival* dockmaster got off his *adjectival *slang noun* and organized the *adjectival* crane booking and loading bay as he was meant to have done and as he was *adjectival* paid to have done (but, as it turned out, he was paid just a little bit more to reserve the closer berth for a wily smuggler from Sedera some time earlier).

If the two swearing, sweating and sweltering workers were particularly bothered about their silent witness, they kept their complaints to themselves - an act of admirable restraint given they apparently felt little need to keep many of their other complaints to themselves. They were not alone in deliberately paying the silent watcher little heed, no-one else on the busy docks had spoken to him all afternoon. Well, not since Benny the Snake had approached and talked to him that morning, thinking the stranger an easy mark ... only to scurry off moments later, white faced, tight lipped and refusing to speak to anyone of the discourse that had so obviously shaken Benny. The part-time cutpurse, part-time beggar and full-time scoundrel was not a man easily cowed so the word had quickly gone round to leave this one alone. If the strange fella wanted to watch them work ... well, that was fine as far as they was concerned.

And so the hot afternoon passed. Two working and one watching.



Later that night.



Hey boss, it's me again.
I didn't get the chance to speak to you yesterday, was flat out like a lizard drinking all day.
I ain't making excuses but I thought you'd be okay with me doing what I was doing and just catching you up today instead.
Funny how if you kill an adult, well sure, it makes a little bit of a stir.
Wife or hubby wailing and kids wandering about all aimless like they all of a sudden lost their place in the world.
I ain't saying it doesn't cause a stir.
It's worthwhile.
But ... BUT. Kill a kid and watch what happens.
It ain't just the kid's folks. It ain't just the friends and the family of them friends.
It's everyone.
I don't pretend to be no genius with all the answers to all the questions but I don't reckon a hundred wizards pondering for a hundred years could come up with something that does your work better than just me killing a kid or three.
The grief.
The mistrust.
The corruption.
The insanity.
The hate.
It doesn't just destroy a family. It has the potential to destroy a whole town.
Anyways, as I was saying, I don't mean to make excuses but that's where I was.
I thought laying low was in order today until I had a chance to speak to you.
I ended up down at the dock district. It was bloody hot and I thought that was probably the best chance of catching a breeze.
A vain hope as it turned out.
It was still bloody hot down there.
I ended up spending most of the day watching these two laborers.
I swear to you, never have I watched two people less happy with their work.
Complaining about this. Moaning about that.
I was tempted to go and ask them why they didn't just up and leave and find some other work to do.
I didn't though.
They must've cursed their boss a hundred times over the course of the day.
It was like they couldn't be doing anything at all further away than what they wanted to be doing.
Made me realize how lucky I was to have a boss like you.
You let me do exactly as I want.

[Pseudonym]

I wouldn't call him a friend.

Acquaintance doesn't seem the right word either.

I'm not really sure how you'd describe just who we are to each other. I've not thought about it much before now. Let me think.

Let me think.

How 'bout two travelers headed in the same direction? Two travelers with the same goals.

My, that doesn't sound friendly at all does it? *laughs* Makes me sound downright rude in fact. I reckon i'd apologise but I don't think he'd much care one way or another what I call him anyways. I think he'd say two travelers whose goals are often the same was just fine with him.

All that is besides the point I suppose. He's asked me for a favour. A service. That might be a better way of describing it. I reckon he's pretty much clued into me not being in the favour granting business. Let's say he's asked me to go travelin' in a direction i'm pretty happy travelin' regardless.

Don't think it really matters how much we might travel together, I think we're both just fine with never ... you know ... feelin' much for the other. To be honest with you, I reckon I dream about gutting him, slicing him, spilling his blood no less than I do for anyone else. Maybe even more! *laughs*

I reckon he knows me well enough. The other night, in that Forest of Fog, just gives me a little smile when he turned in for the evening. A little smile that said, Sure, go ahead and do what you want to do. Cut. Slice. Carve. All those things. I can't stop you. Look at me. I'll be asleep in minutes and ain't nuthin' I can do then to stop you. But ... BUT ... if I wake in the morning still with only the single smile and not a second one you've given me with that there skinning knife ... then we'll do some real good work tomorrow. Think about it.

All that in his little before-bed smile he gives me. I hear him. Sure I do. Loud and clear. Don't stop a man from dreaming though, does it?

A man has to have a dream they say.[/COLOR]



// For my buddy Polak76, looking forward to your WLDQ!! Congrats on approval.

[Pseudonym]

Hal stays awhile in Hlint