|Summary:||Trouble in Stonebridge|
|Stonebridge, Town Square|
|The surrounding terrain has several small gullies and streams that feed into the waterfront area just adjacent to the town square, the sails of the boats visible over the tops of the buildings. The square is floored in the same heavy stone that the east docks and castle are constructed of while the buildings are a mix of the stone, wood, and mortar. There are quite a few fish vendors with their fragrant catches for sale among groups of tables which tend to be busy most of the time.|
|Wed Apr 25, 289|
It's mid-morning in Stonebridge, and other places in Westeros too one presumes. The town square is busy enough, but it does not appear to be a market day and only the ever prsent fishy smell lingers. Rather like it had on Harlaw Isle too, but no dount those recently returned from the war are doing their best not to make that mental association. Making his way, slowly, through down from the tower is Einar. His leg has seemingly healed well enough and isn't what's checking his pace. That honour goes to his cousin's wife who he seems to have the task of escorting into town this morning. It's pleasant company though and if truth be told, he doesn't mind.
A raven haired girl dressed in rags, walks in the opposite direction. She walks quickly, like someone with a purpose, though her teal blue eyes keep glancing around her, shooting what might appear as icy stares at her surrounding.
Morning. Corrie was determined to be out and about. She knows the rumors that are being whispered, some even saying the poor, frail woman will not survive whatever 'sickness' has taken her, so she cannot continue to hide in a bed behind closed doors. Anders in meetings, she's decided to attempt going to the market all on her lonesome — which means Einar is with her, of course. She's got her stick thin arm laced through Einar's as they walk slowly down through the path towards the market area. She's taking it slow, partially in deference to his leg, partially for her self. The Lady of House Flint is dress resplendently in gray silk today, her preferred colour. The silk is trimmed with white lace and made to loosely play about her body, hiding most of the fact that she is nothing but skin and bones beneath. She's got her hair down in soft waves around her hollowed out cheeks and she's even put a hint of stain on her lips. See? She's fine. "We'll just gather a few things… It would be nice to surprise Andy with a meal for his lunch."
"A meal for lunch?" Einar jests lazily, "I'm sure that is the last thing that he'd expect. Well, apart from maybe a dragon, I don't think he's expect that." He's all in favour of making sure the Young Lord is fed well though, as it means there's a decent chance that his wife will eat as well. She is after all, eating for two now. With Corrie attached at the arm he keeps a watchful eye out for any potential bumps or hazards and in thus doing so, notes the dark haired lass heading their way. A gentle coax to Corrie to avoid a collision and a brief nod to the girl. It might not be the socially right, correct or proper thing to do, but damn it he's in a good mood and he's going to be polite to people.
Ayanna shoots an icy glance at the young man in the fancy attire and then turns her head to look in the opposite direction before quirking her eyebrows in a hint of a frown and nodding back at him, since it seems he was actually, not like likely, not by far, but still if he did, better not get in trouble… The woman beside him gets a moment of attention too as those blue eyes rest on her, as if quickly assessing her too.
Cordelya rolls her dark green eyes as he comments about the meal, "A meal procured for him by his wife, not some nameless servant in the towers, you know what I mean, silly boy." She teases the squire at her side, gently swatting at his stomach with her small hand. She's about to say something more, but then she falls a bit quiet as they see the determined, cold eyed girl. She arches a brow, gently stepping to the side, careful not to be run over by the small woman… "Well, she seems determined…" The noble lady murmurs softly, a hint of curiosity and worry lining her light mezzo voice.
Einar seems faintly perturbed by the icy glare, but when the lass turns back and returns his nod he gives a mental shrug, files it away as unusual, and moves on. "I know exactly what you meant," he answers to Corrie with a relaxed smile, and I'm sure he will appreciate it greatly." He recognises both the curiosity and worry in her tone, having known her for long enough now, but simply takes a moment to offer her a reassuring smile. "As are many," he offers non-committaly, waiting to see if she gets any ideas into her head.
"Nanna! Nahha!", a small boy of about 8 or nine years old calls as he rushes in your direction, calling after someone, maybe that girl. He is dressed in rags, and one of his shoes has the sole separated from the top half way his foot, so it has a rag tied around to hold it in place. That trick doesn't prove to be a great success because the boy fumbles and crash-lands almost at your feet with a yelp and a groan. At least he did catch the girl's attention because she turns around just in time to see him going down.
Cordelya is a swamp girl. They take care of their small folk, because really, there aren't too many. There might be a reason why Corrie doesn't generally go out among the commoners, because her heart is probably too bloody soft, and Einar knows that about her already. She slows a bit in their tread, frowning a touch in though over the girl. Of course, the stumbling boy? He just secures it. Corrie's eyes go wide as saucers as the child crash lands at she and Einar's feet, mentally bracing for the sobbing that will probably start a heartbeat later. She kneels gently there. "Oh, oh love… your poor shoe…" She coos gently. Einar probably should just get the coin purse ready now.
And there we have it. Still, Einar would have been more worried is Corrie hadn't stopped, that would have meant she was really ill. He draws to a halt at her side although opts to remain on his feet. He might have to be manly and offer a hand to one or both of them as they rise themselves after all. Given Corrie seems to have the lad in hand he turns to the lass and asks, "Your's Mistress?" Son, brother, cousin, friend, nephew even given what he was yelling.
Ayanna hurries her step as she approaches the couple and the boy who winces in pain at his sore knee and foot but does not cry. There is a stench coming from him which might not be much of a surprise, after all, too many showers could kill a grown man and by too many it means more than one a month, in the summer time. Of course unlike fancy folks, the boy probably does not own many clothes, most likely he changes clothes when he literally outgrows them. The girl doesn't smell nearly as bad, certainly not lilacs and roses but nowhere as offensive as him.
And while Corrie's heart is in the right place, and she does want to help, the moment she's hit with the poor boy's scent… Her stomach is entirely in the wrong place. Her eyes shoot wide and any bit of colour that was in her face quickly drains. She cannot speak, not wishing to actually be ill on anyone, and she is going to be ill. Einar is given briefly wide eyes, eyes that say both 'Help them!' and maybe a bit of 'Help me!' as she stumbles to the side, collapsing to her knees in a ditch and the bit she ate that morning comes up rather violently. Well, even nobility can be brought low, it seems!
Ah. Um. Yes. Well… Einar recognises the plee in Corrie's eyes, but there's no way he can leave her to vomit in a ditch while he deals with something else. And that's no only because Anders would kill him if he did. "Excuse me one moment," he manages to the girl before he's covering the few paces to Corrie. He seems to know the drill, rub the back gently, keep the hair out of the way with the other hand, muttering gently soothing words until reaction finishes. It's not quite 'there, there, but it's certainly a close equivalent.
Funny thing but the girl does something similar with the boy almost no distance behind as they scan the couple for any -more(?)- trinkets that could be pilfered. It's obvious those people are carrying too much weight, especially in their frail condition, so relieving them of some dead weight is practically rendering a service, is it not?
Slightly away from that smell, Corrie manages to catch her breath, not really having eaten much this morning to be sick on, but she still feels utterly miserable. Unfortunately for the little thieves, Corrie is carrying nothing herself. The weapons, money pouch, and anything of real use was on the squire's belt, where it still may or may not be. She's just kneeling there, trying to catch her breath. "Is…is the child alright?" She asks her husband's squre, still more concerned for the boy than she is herself.
"I'm sure he's fine," Einar replies in that same quiet, reassuring tone, his hand still rubbing gentle circles into her back. "I'll check on him in a moment I promise you, I just need to make sure you're okay and get you back on your feet again." Because oddly, it isn't generally the done thing to leave a Young Lady in a ditch when she isn't vomiting either. "Just let me know when you're feeling steady enough." It's only a short walk back to the tower after all, and once he's got her settled again he can come back and grab whatever it was she had had in mind for lunch. No harm done.
Ayanna helps the boy back up to his feet and if one of the pouches does not look too heavy and full, the boy will serve as a distraction as she turns to the couple, asking "are you well? while caefully drawing her dagger to slash near the bottom the pouch and empty its contents in her palm. The dagger disappears under her clothes almost immediately.
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Ayanna=larceny Vs Einar=alertness
< Ayanna: Success Einar: Great Success
< Net Result: Einar wins - Solid Victory
Cordelya is unwell enough to completely miss whatever is happening between the woman and the poor, concerned Squire. Corrie does, however, begin to gently pull herself up to her feet. A touch dizzy, more than a touch pale, she leans on the young squire's arm as she retakes her feet and just tries to center herself. She takes in a deep breath, giving both of them a slow nod…"Aye… yes, just… Just fine… it is expected. I am fine."
"Gently does it," he mutters, making sure that they don't rise too quickly and make Corrie dizzy or queasy again. As he stands though there's an inclination in the back of his head that something isn't quite right, and he frowns slightly as Corrie speaks, although not in relation to her words. Semi-distracted by the niggle he drops one hand to readjust his belt, wondering if maybe his sword, or possibly even his little belt knife, have shifted slightly while he was kneeling. Both seem fine though, and that has him glancing round to the lass and young boy, suspicions beginning to form in his head.
Ayanna was just rubbing something off her right hand over her skirt, smart way to continue the motion of sheathing her dagger while taking the boy's hand with her left. Glancing at the boy she says, "look how much trouble you are, go home and stop running around and getting yourself into trouble" before letting go of the boy's hand so he may head off.
Cordelya is oblivious, really, too concerned with keeping the rest of her breakfast down and not passing out into the mud and dirt to notice the fact that his pouch might be missing. She straightens up and leans a bit more against Einar, giving the pair a slightly embarrassed little smile. "No.. no.. it's fine. I am not myself… as long as he's alright…" She mutters after the boy, though to the woman, clearly worried that the child still may have hurt himself. But he's running just fine now. She then looks back to Einar. "I…I'm sorry, Einar. I am a right mess…"
Might have kept his gaze on the girl for longer, had Corrie not drawn his attention back. "Don't worry," he mutters, although his tone has lost the light and reassuring manner it previously held and is now distinctly distracted. With her leaning on him more heavily he can't really do too much, but the niggle in the back of his head is starting to turn into a scream and he uses his free hand to double check everything on his belt while he turns to face the black haired girl again. Needless to say, it only takes a moment or two before his fingers find the adulterated pouch. Corrie would feel him stiffen as he locks gaze on the thief and shoots his free hand out to try and grab a hold of her arm, or clothing, or anything really. "Stop! Thief!" he calls out as he sees the boy moving off. It should attract the attention of a guard or constable, or at least that is his hope.
The boy is quick to take off and run through the moving crowd while the girl proves to be rather quick in pulling and twisting her arm around to avoid getting caught bu Einar's grasp. Her victory is not exactly complete because while avoiding getting her arm caught, she neglected moving the rest of her self out of reach and has her ragged skirt held instead. She can probably yank herself free, but that would more than probably cause another tear in her skirt, a dangerously large one. Well, at least both his hands are busy so the sword is safely away and the boy is quickly getting out of sight. "Let go!" she says with a frown and an irritated tone as she tries to pull free of your hold, glancing about for any sign of law enforcement or any other smart-arses who know nothing better than to meddle in the affairs of others.
Cordelya is really behind the times. Totally oblivious as to why the smart alec Einar has now gone a bit quiet, Corrie frowns and is about to ask something, but then he shouts out a word that answers her question all together. What?! She blinks past him to the running boy, and the attempting to escape girl, a hint of genuine shock on her pale, thin features. "What?? Thief? Surely not! He's just a child!" Corrie mutters, shocked and a bit hurt that this could have all be a set up. She stares at the girl, sudden distrust starting to colour her hollowed features…"What are you doing with that *child*?" She asks of the girl coldly, though her eyes frantically search for another guard or two.
Einar gave up on the boy as soon as he started to move, but is gratified by what grib he has managed to achieve on the girl. He figures she's the older one and thus probably more likely to be the one running it. "Answer the Lady," he says to cover the fact that he's thinking wildly. He can;t let go of Corrie, or she'll fall. He can't let go of the girl or she'll run. There are guards on the bridge, but will they leave their posts for this or leave it to the town watch? Where are the town watch? Looks like maintaining the status quo is his best option for now as any one arriving is, on balance of probabilities, going to be on his side.
"I am not doing anything", the girl says with some anger in her voice as she tries to pull her skirt free from Einar's grasp, though she does not touch his hand directly, just trying to get the fabric out of his fingers without tearing it. She is frowning and glancing about to see if and who's attention this unwanted scene is attracting. This is bad for business…
Cordelya is standing up straight and steady, not near swooning herself, a touch of offended anger in her pale features as she looks over the girl and then back to Einar. "…What have they taken? That poor child… being taken advantage of by this woman. Now…" She looks upon the girl, her face all elegant nobility and strength despite her previous illness. She can pull herself together when needed. "Answer for yourself, woman. Get the child back here and my Squire's property returned or we shall ensure both of you are jailed. Do you know whom you have tried to rob?"
Well, since Corrie seems to be steadier on her feet, Einar slowly shifts his stance and frees up the arm that had been supporting her so he can try and get a better grip on the young lass. He's aiming for a wrist ideally, but arm or shoulder are selected as secondary targets should that be unfeasible. A quick glance confirms that the boy is lost, but he got a good enough look that he thinks he might know him again should it come to it. Maybe. He'll let Cordelya do the talking for now though, given she seems to have risen to the challenge, he'll just concentrate on keeping the girl where she is.
It's taking too long and the boy has obviously reached safety, or at least should have. With the attention of law enforcement and the movement in her direction, her welcome expired a long time ago. Not wanting to add some new scars or worse to her skin, the girl pulls back as hard as she can yanking the skirt violently now as she suddenly seems to care little for how big the tear will be. And quite a big tear it is as it exposes some of her flesh as she tries to bolt.
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Einar=unarmed Vs Ayanna=reaction+escape
< Einar: Success Ayanna: Great Success
< Net Result: Ayanna wins - Solid Victory
Cordelya wouldn't have been much of a fighter in her good days, much less now. Her eyes widen as the girl tries to jerk away, careless of dress or modesty. "Gods!" Corrie yelps out, stumbling back a bit from the mess of a scene, her dark eyes wide, hand clutched to her chest, "What in hells is going on!?" She hisses out, completely perplexed and a touch overwhelmed by the whole thing.
Maybe Einar was distracted by the appearance of a couple of guard helms heading in his direction, maybe the lass he's trying to hold is well practiced at these situations. Who can say? Maybe it's even a bit of both. Whatever the underlying cause though, the end result is the same and the young Flint is left holding nothing more than a scrap of the dress. His immediate instince is to start after her, but Corrie's exclaimation quickly checks that and he turns instead to ensure she's not about to faint or such. Quick confirmatory glance done he turns to the newly arrived guards and points them towards the disappearing figure. As they start the chase he fianlly turns his full attention back to his good-cousin and offers her a steadying hand. "Come, lets get back to the Tower," translation, 'lets get you back tothe tower', "I have a sneaking suspission that you could do with a cup of tea about now." And of course, he can take stock of what's gone and inform Anders of what has transpired.
With two guards behind her, the raven haired lass does not waste time on parting words and keeps her wits for another occasion, running away as fast as she can from the couple of nobles and the guards soon joining them. The large tear on her skirt is something she or someone else could take care of later with some thread and a needle, it's already a rag, so how much worse can it be?
Quiet disbelief paints across Corrie's pale features as she watches the girl run. At least there are some guards near. Perhaps the property can be recovered, but probably not. She leans against Einar, guilt slightly painting her features. "Well…this… This did not turn out as planned at all. Yes, yes, we should be getting back. Anders will be worried…. Gods, I am sorry…" She mutters, a touch ashamed as they walk back towards the tower. Laying down and sipping tea sounds far, far better than being out here with all the smells and thieves! She frowns, leaning against the squire, now oddly quiet as they head back to the castle.