Getting to know you... (IC Meetings, short play) Hex/Niamh

OOC: Just a little pre-game fun, a little back and forth get to know each other to settle who our characters know each other.

IC:

‘Next time.’

‘Another time.’

‘Not today.’

The responses were never quite the same, and yet all fell along the same vein. Humans were busy folk, at times, rushing one way and another, eager to claim every flicker of their daylight. Some days, finding folk with which to trade on the broad island pathways was easy. Others, not so much.

Though the woman Niamh watched from her tree-nook didn't seem quite human, she certainly shared many similar traits, and moved among them more readily than she herself did. The red-head had offered the same reasoning as all the rest just this morning on her path to who knows where. Niamh took the assurances of later quite literally, which left her merely considering the manner of her approach, and not the likely reception.

Bark rasped against leather wrapped palms as she balanced, prickling parts of the uncovered skin surrounding it. Her head tilting first one way and then another, she watched as first one spark flared in the distance, and then a second, and then yet a third, until the flickering twists of a distant flame glowed continuous and merry. To be fair, it was something of a damp night. So needing three strikes to stir a fire to life could be readily excused.

Not too far a distance. It was near enough what a human might term a mile, and would be just a long enough walk to allow the other woman time to settle. Full dark would find no task to rush off too, and all things of urgency would fade, licked away by the dry warmth of a companionable fire.

A late maritime chill drifted in from the coast. The broad expanse of open skies, having shed their cover of cloud, left her breath misting faintly in the cool dusk air as she breathed in deeply and then released it. It will be a good night for a spit and sizzling meat.

Stepping free the branch, she swung down to the thinly grassed gnoll twisted by roots that delved downwards and drank from the nearby stream. Her toes caught her weight, thighs and calves collapsing together to ease the shock of landing. It took but a blink to slide her boots back on, and before the stars or moon traced their paths much farther, she was wending her way along towards that distant fire. A brace of furs, neatly rolled for trading, bounced along one shoulder. A brace of squirrels, gutted and ready for roasting, bounced on the other.

By nature she moved quietly, and she wondered if she ought to make more noise. Most humans moved through the world seeming unaware of how alive it was, how the evening breathed with the sigh of the distant coast and the hum of nearby chirping insects. She stepped purposefully on a twig, just to get herself in the right mindset, though she was too far away for anyone with dulled human senses to notice.

Best to start as one intended to continue. Yet as she listened, and moved, her curious mind lit on the distant figure she approached, and she only sporadically remembered this intent. Intrigued by the pointed teeth, the pale features, the shock of crimson hair, she had discreetly watched the woman from a distance. Sniffed her in passing. Listened from behind. Whenever they crossed paths, really, she gathered more information. The stranger was not Kanthrop, neither by scent nor manner. But she fit this world beyond the port city more than most, and that gave Niamh a certain sense of respect for this other.

Crack. She stomped on another stick.

‘Hex,’ the children had called the woman. Niamh wondered what the childish grapevine had told the other woman of her. ‘She is lots of fun making things with snow.’ One girl had shared. ‘She throws bully snowballs’ a boy had similarly commented, voice full of admiration.

Thud. A stone rolled from under her foot to knock against a tree trunk.

Children were better judges of character than most. That knowledge eased away the discordant notes Niamh’s history often interjected when she chose to make closer acquaintance with strangers. It wasn’t too difficult to do, not really. Not tonight. Not when the last conversations she’d held for three days had borne variations of the same sentiments in two to five words. Later. Not now. Perhaps soon.

She sighed.

Nights like this she missed the old bonfires, and the kits crowded around the flames, and the old tales of past generations curling among the bodies as thick as smoke.

Whoosh. She absently pressed back a branch, then somewhat mournfully released it.

Another sigh.

She marched up towards the fire, occasionally remembering to make a sound, pausing only when the flames lit her face in the deepening twilight. Purposefully, she approached from the opposite side of the fire to which Hex perched.

“You have time to look at furs now, yes?” Came a hopeful contralto, nuanced by a curiosity that her cocked head made blatant. Large dark eyes reached out, unblinking, from a face more striking than beautiful, pointed and full of human angles drawn sharply.

The last merchant was happy with her service and gave a little tip. Always nice to have a few extra coins. Hex juggled her coin bag in one hand while she thought about the prospect of a mug of mead and a warm meal.

That woman with the golden eyes

Perhaps tonight she would forgo the mead for some actual company. Over and over she had passed that woman as she tried to pedal her skins to the locals and anyone who passed her.

There was something about her that was different but Hex could not quite put her finger on it. It didn't matter, she had not been afraid which was a mark in her favor. Every time she had passed her she had given her an excuse.

In truth Hex was starting to feel a little lonely. The children all played with her but the adults were still a little stand-offish and did not really talk to her. The old solider never really approached but gave the nod.

Company? A conversation? Perhaps it was time to have a chat with someone. A strange woman selling skins would do just fine.

Later was all she had said. If she wanted to sell a skin she could find her.

Hex arrived back at her camp site. A little criag that protected her from the wind with a gnarly tree to hang her gear on to air it out after a job was done.

Yes, let's not have that happen again. Arriving dockside looking for a ship south when she emerged from the north headded south to the islands, only to have the dock master puke at her smell. Well it had been years? since she had bathed or changed her gear. Being back in civilization was good for Hex.

She stripped out of her armor down to her simple garments and hung it to dry on the tree. Then she gave herself a quick snow bath. Putting on her fresh pants and shirt she looked around her tiny camp.

A fire, it is cold and damp andshe will want to be warm

Eventually, she got a fire going, she was a little out of practice.

Should have bought tea

The woman was not sneaking up, at least if she was she was horrible at it.

"You have time to look at furs now, yes?"

Hex stood and wiped her hands on her clothes and gave her a smile.

"Yes, yes now is good. I am Hex, Hex da'Bergliin. Welcome to my camp. I was hoping you had a wolf pelt in there, mine is quite old and has seen better days. Please sit."

Hex squated again and put out a bowl of dried fruits and jerked meat from her pup tent.

"Wolf? Aye." Niamh needed no further encouragement, skirting the flames and dropping to a crouch on her toes, thighs pressed against calves. She eyed the offered bowls as she settled, then grinned, a flash both brief and pleased. Without hesitation, the brace of squirrels swung over one shoulder and she extended it towards the other woman. If it wasn't immediately picked up, she laid it on Hex's side of the fruit and jerked meat.

The pair of carcasses were rodent-like, but large enough. One familiar with nature might recognize them as squirrels.

"I, too come prepared." Came her matter of fact statement.

With her freed hand, she swung her bundle free her other shoulder, lowering it to the dry and slightly warmed ground between her and the flickering flames. A diverse quantity of furs thus displayed, all varying in size, shade of furs, and more, Niamh tugged two of the larger free. They contrasted slightly in color, size and quality. The pale one was a dense irregularly white coat and was the larger of the two. The reverse side was carefully tanned, though there were a hole or two around the neatly trimmed edges where a skinning knife had pierced through. The smaller fur bore a more even coloration, a more readily recognizable gray/brown.

Niamh's shoulders and hands both now free, her left fingers tugged open a pouch at her waist as her right hand scooped up the fruit bowl and promptly dumped most of the contents within. Once done, the work of a few blinks, she plucked a single piece of the jerked meat, tucking it between her molars and screwing her face up a little as she shredded a piece free to chew. And chew. And chew.

It was the manner of such meat, and Niamh didn't mind it. More curious regarding the taste, if it was different than what she did with the meat she prepared herself.

"What kind?" She asked, waving the bit of uneaten meat around curiously. It was not always easy to determine type with these. And almost immediately, she continued, gesturing at the furs. "You have something to trade, yes?"

Hex reached out and ran her hand through the furs as soon as they came out. She eyed the squirrels, grinned and nodded acknowledgement of them. As the wolf pelts came out she smiled happily. A marginal hunter herself she was more than able to survive, but she was not able to work skins into nice leather to make it last.

Hex stood with the skin, holding it to its full height and looked it over as the light from the fire flickered. Rolling it up and placing it to the side Hex crouched back down and took a piece of the jerked meat herself. Her sharp teeth made short work of it and made it east to chew down.

"I think it is sheep but it could be anything. I buy it in town as I have little time to cure my own"

Hex picked up one of the squirrels

"Do you cook your meat? I am sure I can find a stick to roast it if you wish to share it now"

Pausing she looked around before her eyes settled back on Niamh

"As for trade, well, what you see is what I have. I travel very light and do not have anything extra. I possess no jewelry, no trinkets and nothing that I do not use. What I do have of value that can be given is, well, me."

Hex paused and laughed

"I work as a mercenary and bodyguard, not sure you have a use for either. I can also help you carry pelts to town if you need or help with setting lines or really anything. If there is something you need from town and cannot trade for, I can always purchase it for you."

Shrugging, Hex paused and smiled.

"I know you are not naturally comfortable around the locals but the children like you so you cannot be that bad. One thing you have not shared with me though, is your name."

The lighter pelt dropped from upper waist to the ground, though there were a few small flaws in the coloration of the tanned back of the hide, it was relatively supple, if a bit heavy thanks to the density of the fur itself. The softness of it glowed dully, carressed as it was by both fingers and firelight.

"It is your fire, but hot food is good on cold nights." She paused, shrugged, and considered. "Do you not cook your meat?" Niamh asked, curiously, eyeing Hex's teeth frankly, brows lifting with genuine curiosity as she tilted her head and sought to meet the other woman's eyes.

"Niamh. Windwalker." Came the shrugged reply, off-handed, thoughts leaping from one idea to another and flitting to the first question that popped into her head next. "Does Daberglin have a meaning?" She shoved the remainder of the jerky into her mouth, chewing as she listened to the reply. Yet her nose wrinkled a little, eyes settling on the furs as she listened and considered the thoughts running about her mind.

"Hm. I don't want those things." The words emerged, a touch of regret softening the shadows around her eyes. Then her features froze for a moment, her tone lacking a little of the easy depth it had carried into the conversation before. "I don't need protection or a guard. Furs are useful, but also easy to find." Then she breathed, and her shoulders relaxed from the minute tension of the flickers before.

"You do not work your own hides though, or mine would be of no interest. If you hunt, I would take those when you have them. Better honor to the animal spirits if nothing is wasted. Can you skin a pelt?" She spoke as a woman speaking the thoughts as they trundled through her mind, not pausing much between her sentences. "Not all furs here are found elsewhere, though." She cocked her head, eyeing Hex intently. "You go to town. Maybe you ask around when there are new merchants in Port, yes? Maybe some would be interested in furs here that would be rare elsewhere? Yes? You could take wolf pelt now, and tell me later as you find." Finally came the pause to give Hex a chance to speak.

Hex stopped and stared at Naimh. Of course she cooks her meat!

"Ah, no, I have not always. I had a long stretch there where it was either fresh or frozen."

Hex also let out a sigh as the tension left between them, smiling at the woman before her. Taking out her knife she quickly skinned and gutted the squirrel and placed it on a stick to roast it.

Once it was going "da`Bergliin  is a clan name from Trothgard meaning blacksmith. I though never followed that path. my family made my Glaive, my weapon over there. Shaft is steel wrapped in leather like a sword handle."

The fire crackled and spit as the juices ran from the squirrel as Hex seemed to reflect on something.

Sighing

"Yes, I can skin quite well and I will give you the skins of any kill I make, but they will tend to be the larger kind, like bear or something I snare, like rabbit. I will also be happy to speak to any merchants on your behalf. I am known to may of them and can speak to them to see who would either have, or be interested in furs for you. Thank you for the wolf pelt, your generosity will be rewarded."

Niamh soaked in the information about the Glaive, eyes lingering more on the leather wrapped grip before eyeing it curiously. She was not terribly familiar with such weapons, though she made no move to look at it more closely. Hex's answer seemed to satisfy her curiosity, however.

"New merchants, especially. The ones visiting on their boats. They might want unusual furs." Niamh agreed, unable to stop herself from emphasizing the key points even as she nodded at the thanks. She shrugged back a little carelessly, as if it were only what was expected.

The meat over the fire promised to transport some of that warmth to her belly, as Niamh, bartering done, rolled her furs for trade back up and relaxed from her toe-centered perch. Crossing her legs, she leant forward to settle elbows in the ground and prop her chin on her fists. In truth, though she preferred the sizzled juices of a well roasted meal, she was neither troubled nor put off by Hex's reference to meat fresh or frozen.

The conversation continued a little, superficial in vein. Hex answering questions of Port Town, and Niamh sharing a few of the little geographic foibles she had come across. Once they had shared their meal, however, after a little bit of well-sated silence, Niamh climbed to her feet, swung her furs back over her shoulder and slipped off quietly into the darkness.

-fin-