|Conversations in the Sept|
|Summary:||Kain and Einar talk at the Sept, almost none of it is about religion.|
|Related Logs:||None that I am aware of, although I suspect there may be one at least unposted.|
|Sept of the Seven, Terrick's Roost|
|The Sept of Terrick's Roost was never a grand spectacle, but has been hit especially hard by the occupation. Recent repairs have made the sept usable, if in less glamorous fashion: the broken roof has been replaced with thatch, the broken statues with cruder clay representations, the smashed windows boarded up. The few surviving pews have been supplemented with simpler seating. On the floor is lain out with a bright seven-pointed star in representation of the Gods, defaced by hammer and chisel and not yet restored.|
|Mon Oct 08, 289|
Kain does not like laying in bed. Or staying in one place for longer than a day. Or being inside septs. Sadly, he has to suffer with all three of these matters, so all the whining he does is mostly mental. Word spread pretty quickly on the attack made on him in town. The same attack that left his own father dead, the ranger himself left with two dueling knives sticking out of his body like some kind of human pin cushion. And even with his chest bandaged and bare as it is, he still has to find the strength to at least walk around. Albeit slowly and out of watchful, almost guard-dog-like gaze of the healer that's been looking after him. She already had to stop him once from trying to leave, thinking he could just go back to his duties. After that failed attempt, he's regulated himself to waiting.
However far word might have spread, it seems that it hadn't made it to the visiting Flints. Or, if Pariston know, he certainly hadn't told Einar. As such, the surprise on the young lord's face, once his eyes adjust to the change in light levels and he spots the huntsman, is genuine. Taking a couple of paces further into the Sept his planned quiet time in front of the Gods is quite forgotten. "Are you alright Master Kain?" he asks quickly, followed almost immediately by a "that wa sa stupid question. I apologise." What happened? springs to mind next, but he figures the man may well be fed up of it already so in the end he settles for "nothing serious I hope."
Kain was in the process of looking over a shelf of books. It's a little odd not seeing him with a hood pulled over his head, as if the face he wears isn't complete without the garment. "You have interesting gods." he says softly, before looking over at Einar. "Good morning, Lord Einar. I'd bow but…" while he might not be wearing a shirt, the mass of bandages that are wrapped over his left hip and left shoulder might be indication that bending is not a great feeling. A cane is held in his right hand to keep him stable. "…you'll forgive me if that's just a bit too much right now. But. I'll be fine, in time. I'm a capable knife fighter, but not an accomplished one. A bow is my weapon of choice and it doesn't tend to function well in close quarters."
Einar quickly waves off the idea of a bow, understanding in a glance the issues involved. He might not be the most experienced man when it comes to fights and battles, but he has at least one noticeable scar on his torso. Or it would be, if he took his shirt and tunic off. The mention of knives brings a sympathetic wince to his features and he nods slowly, "I'm primarily an archer myself so I quite understand." He had a sword at his hip throughout the war for that very reason in fact. A thought then crosses his mind, evident by the slight frown of concentration, "wasn't anything to do with the search for the Young Lord as it? I expect that your talents will have been called in there?"
"No, it's a different matter." Kain replies. "One that might be just as important as finding the Lord Jacsen if my thoughts are correct." A draws a sigh, turning lamely in place to face the Flint. "My father is dead. And I was lured to his home so they could finish me off as well. Three of them. One is dead; I was fast enough to get one shot off before they closed in and broke my bow. Another ran. The third I chased through the Roost, ending in a knifefight and being bested by him. He was subdued by Ser Ozric Terrick and taken to the dungeon. I know the men that came for me." Beat. "At least, I -suspect- as much." He snorts. "Lady Anais thinks a guard should be posted just in case the third comes to try and finish the job. I'm hurt, but I'm not dead."
Well that’s quite a story and as such, Einar takes a few moments to mull it over in his head and make sure he hasn't missed any of what was said. Eventually though he nods, once. "Not the most pleasant tale I have heard certainly, and by the sounds of it Lady Anais is correct." However much he imagines that must gall the huntsman. "I'd offer you Master Vis, since I know the pair of you share many common interests, but I fear I'll be taking him with me for the search." Well, more that Pariston will be taking Einar along, given the relative skill levels. "If you don't mind me asking though, you say you know them, and that this might be as important as the Young Lord's disappearance. How so?"
"No, I wouldn't want to take Master Vis away from duties as important as searching for Lord Jacsen. That's a high priority." Kain shakes his head. "I'd help, of course, but I doubt I'd be much use in my current state." The next question, causes him to frown a little bit. "Old ghosts from the past. Ones that I thought time had outran and left my father and I forgotten. Slavers, my Lord. A child slavery ring. Ten years ago, when I was young, well, younger man, my father, myself, and a group of others were a terror on the slaving rings that operated out of Seagard. Broke it up enough to show it wasn't a profit any longer. But when we realized that they were coming down to bear on us, we all went to ground. That was ten years ago. But now, after the Ironborn, there are a good deal many more orphans in the Riverlands, ones that won't be missed. I suspect, and this is all suspicion for now, I fear they may of come back. Killing my father and trying to kill me may of just been as revenge. Or it was to get rid of those who knew how their operations worked. I can't say."
Einar is, it's fair to say even less keen on there being slavers around than he is on bandits. The fact that they're trading in children is just finishes it off really. "Congratulations on the work ten years ago then," he offers. Not that it'll do much, it certainly won't bring the man's father back, but he figures that good work deserves recognition. However late. "As I have already mentioned, myself and Master Vis will be engaged in the hunt for Lord Jascen, but should we hear or see anything that we think might be relevent we'll let you know upon our return." It's a long-shot at best, but it's all he can think of to do for now. "Equally, I expect that we will be called back to Highfield before long, the Lady Cordelya is heavily pregnqnt, and we'll keep our ears open there too." He's assuming Pariston will anyway, he doesn't think the man the type not to.
"They could be using all this inner strife within the Terricks to use the situation to their advantage." Kain says slowly. "I can't be sure, but it's something I might do if I was trying to act illegally without being noticed." A nod follows. "We killed a lot of slavers back there. Until my father's leg went lame, he was very good at it. He hated slavers. And seeing the number of children they had taken." That causes him a frown, hand clutching the handle on his cane a bit tighter. "Of course, my Lord. Duty to your house of course comes first. But do that, I have no idea how far out they're operating. My guess is that it started in Segard again and has branched outward. So, until I can move under uninjured, there's little I can do. On both fronts. And sticking around here doing nothing is maddening."
Einar nods in agreement at the idea of the Terrick strife being abused, "They have hardly kept it a secret" he admits ruefully. Not that he's entirely sure how they could have mind. "I suspect, from what you've told me, that you're right about them starting again from Seagard. Have you spoken to Ser Martyn or Ser Kamron? They might hear news from down that way." As for Highfield he thinks for a moment and draws a blank. "With Lord Aleister's seat so new there hasn't yet been the time for a large population to grow and I think it likely that had any gone missing then it would be know there. I will ask though, upon my return." Another pause for though and a few more lines of concentration before he adds, "I would imagine though, were I them, that the chaos recently surrounding Stonebridge might be very attractive too. Many dead, more displaced." A grim though, and his expression makes it abundantly clear that it's one he doesn't like.
"Well, trying to kill me? Not at this point no." Kain agrees with a nod. "I would talk to either of them, but I've only been here for a day and I haven't had a chance to write a letter to either of them. I need to. Need to do something, at least. I'm sure they'd want to know, of course." Listening, he seems to consider. "That's true. Highfield is a bit too far away from it to be profitable, nevermind the lack of people, like you say." At this point, he has to go and take a seat, his breathing for a moment becoming a bit deeper. "How goes the seaach for Lord Jacsen?"
<FS3> Einar rolls Alertness: Great Success.
"Ser Martyn at least is in the Roost, or he was last night. Should our paths cross again I will inform he that he may wish to stop by," Einar answers." As for the search for Jascen he is forced to shrug a little. "I must admit to knowing little. I should be meeting with Lord Justin later to discuss where he wants myself and Master Vis to start looking and until then all I can say is that they were waiting for Ser Kell to return with more news. I have heard that he is returned, but not yet what he found." Noting the change in the other man's breathing though he waits until he's settled again then says, "I'm sorry. I should probably let you rest."
"At some point I should speak with Ser Justin." Kain ponders after a moment. "I'm sure he'll want to hear about what's happened too. But of course, he's has larger issues to take care of right now. I don't mind waiting, but this issue can't be overlooked for too long. Even if it just ends up being me that investigates it. But I wish you and Master Vis good hunting in that. I'd like to come with you." he notes, making a wry chuckle afterwards. "Any reason to get out of here. Too many straight lines." Blowing a breath, he shakes his head. "You don't have to, of course. I just forget that I can't stand for too long."
"Huntsman Audron!" Across the hall, with her hands on her hips, is the healer that's been looking after Kain. "Did I not tell you to get out of your bed?"
Kain groans slightly. "My -other- reason wishing I could leave." he mutters under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Uh, nothing, ma'am."
"He does seem to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders at the moment," Einar confirms in relation to Justin, "although I hear he has a fresh batch of cousins lately arrived and I suspect that some of them would be chomping at the bit to deal with these slavers." As the healer makes her presence known he calls over to her "I promise I won't keep him long Mistress." He'd almost been about to say that it was his fault and claim responsibility, but he just couldn’t being himself to lie in the Sept. "I am sure that you will be back to the woods soon enough," he offers by way of reassurance, "and I'll ensure to entreat the Mother to aid in your recovery."
"So I've heard. He's a good man." Kain nods his agreement, trying to not look at the incoming healer. "I've met a few of them Lord Lothar and Ozric. Though I don't really remember Ser Ozric all that much, only that he subdued the man that I had been chasing." As the healer nears, she frowns, a calloused finger tugging lightly at his bandages, but not enough to cause pain. "You've bled through your bandages. Because you were -moving-." she chastises. "They'll need to be changed and your wounds cleaned. Again." Looking at Einar, she nods. "He's a stubborn one, my Lord. Acts like there's ants in his trousers at all times of the day." she remarks, then going back to Kain. "And you can't 'do your durty' if you're bleeding all over the ground. The Roost will survive for a time without you."
This gets a resigned nod out of the unhooded hunter. "Thank you, my Lord. I think I'll need it."
"I think you may well might," Einar replies with a faint smile. Turning then to the healer he backs off a pace to give her a little more room before saying simply "Stubborn he most certainly is, but you keep good care of him would you. He is needed, when he is well enough once more." Back to Kain he adds, "rest well Master, and I'm sure you'll be much improved when our path's cross again." Leaving the the huntsman to the tender mercies of his healer the young Flint then covers the few paces to where the star is set into the floor. Taking a moment for each he slowly turns, mouthing a few words per statue before bowing his head in silence for a few moments. Seemingly done he then turns and heads for the outside world once more.
"Thank, my Lord." Kain nods. "Take care of yourself when you head off for Highfield. And give Master Vis my best-ow!" he utters suddenly, when the older healer hooks a hand under his arm trying to get him up to his feet. "Can't you see that I'm injured?"
"But not enough to to walk around without a care in world. Back to bed with you, young man."