Laryeim had tried to stay awake, in case of what, she couldn't even remember. But the lull of voices - Jhya, Wynn, and Fotolio... had set her adrift in a near-dream state that quickly fell into a deep and disturbed sleep. Her dreams were horrific and only the raw exhaustion in her body kept her from lurching out of sleep to avoid the distress of them. As the desperate pull for rest faded with the ninth hour of sleep, the aches in her body brought her back to wakefulness. Her final moments of sleep were filled with a very nearly peaceful dream of Grandfather's garden where she had often slept as a child when her nightmares were too much for her. Nearly peaceful, for the dream had Grandfather in it, and when she asked him if it was finally morning he turned to her, smiling without teeth, dirty and worm-eaten from his grave, "You think your nightmares are over? Oh, Lary, they have only just begun..."

She woke to the surreal view of feet passing back and forth over the floor, to voices discussing things that had no relevance to Laryeim - except for food. Her stomach reminded her in no uncertain terms how relevant food would be. Only the deep need for water outweighed it.

Water. Kef had a wineskin. And a wineskin lay near her feet. Laryeim drank deeply from the wineskin as she got her bearings. It upset her more than it should have to see that Kef was gone. Surrounded by women who were busying themselves with the self conscious air of people who had among them someone new: Laryeim. They didn't want her there. And she could hardly blame them. Alone was something she'd been before, but it was strange to feel alone while surrounded by people.

But there was water, a way to heat it, and from the look of these women, there was soap and someplace to get cleaned up. There was no sign of Wynn or Jhya, and the Fotolio fellow was sleeping now. Kimli was gone and this too added a bit to Laryeim's sense of isolation.

She stood up,
if it's still there, otherwise, just the wall. Can you clarify for me, LT, whether the staff is still with her? Thanks
using Calemond's staff to aid her. Calemond... Perhaps Kef had already gleaned what he needed and returned to the priest. Cal. She'd needed to talk to him... about something that seemed elusive to her now. Laryeim touched the fold of cloth where she'd tucked away that broken arrow head and found herself staring at the floor for who knew how long before snapping back to herself. She picked up her bow and - finally - unstrung the poor thing with painful difficulty (and how much more difficult and painful was it going to be to string it again). Wasn't good for a bow to stay strung like that, certainly not after getting all wet. She'd have to oil it and tend the string... but later. For now...

Laryeim took a careful breath and straightened up a bit - slowly for it hurt like hell to move and twisting the string free of its nock had reminded Laryeim of how very painful it was to move at all. She shivered. Despite the warmth of the kitchen, cold seemed to seep in from cracks everywhere. It made Laryeim shudder in recollection of what was under everything and she stepped away from the wall - recalling a bit too vividly the las ttime she had her back to a wall and the stripped flesh horror of the Rhydokahn. Everyone around seemed busy, and no one seemed friendly. On the contrary, Laryeim got the impression that she were being watched without being looked at, being spoken of without being talked about. It was a strange and unfamiliar experience and one, she hoped, that had nothing to do with the terrible wound in her side. But the injury was covered, wrapped oddly but heavily in most of that oversized cloak.

Laryeim caught the attention of the woman nearest her and asked, her voice as hoarse and croaky as if it were long unused, "Might I trouble you for some hot water, a bit of soap, and perhaps a cloth? And directions to where I might get cleaned up a bit?" Her stomach growled in embarrassingly loud fashion as she waited for the answer.

Jhya will got to bother the owner.


Oh, well... yes... are rather filthy aren't you? the comment was overtly condescending as if to describe to Laryiem exactly where she stood in the pecking order, at the absolute bottom, just underneath slaves. You clean yourself like a good little wench, and when you're don't you don't leave no mess behind, or I'll see to it personally you get a whoopin. We ain't here to play hand maiden to you, princess. You leave it better than you found it. The girl made eyes at a bowl filled with water not far from the breakfast area. No one seemed to want to notice Laryiem was especially hungry.


Jhya came down the stairs into the main parlor area and received some strange looks from the girls that all went quiet as he approached. Apparently their whispers indicated seeing a man here at this hour was an oddity. Jhya managed to notice Laryiem in the kitchen looking uncomfortable as he passed by on his way.

After getting some directions, Jhya went to find Madame Bleu in the basement who was cleaning up a gambling table while talking with Kimly.

quick ooc edit: I don't think Laryeim's going to be washing herself out where she can be easily seen... she'll be taking the bowl of water and rag away where she can get some privacy. Even outside in an alley if need be... that wound isn't something she wants to unwrap with people all around.

More later...

GM EDIT: Fixed


As Jhya leaves the room the sound of the door creaking stirs him slightly (Wynn can now join at any time).


Laryeim felt an abrupt wave of hostility in reaction the woman’s threats and assumptions. What in hell was wrong with the women in this city? First the Commodore’s wife making unwholesome accusations, now this. All she’d done at the Commodore’s was inquire after the man’s well-being, and here all she’d done was stand up and ask for water. Laryeim was beginning to hate Tormauz, and what it was doing to her. Her vision cascaded briefly with slaughter and fires.
She thus doesn't see Jhya wander by...
She dropped her head a moment, breathing slowly and deeply in an effort to control herself.

Tormauz... She could count on one hand the things she valued here, and most of them were people. Hans, the Commodore, even Festous. Calemond. She valued the idea that here was where she’d find a way to make a difference - to make things better in the world; she valued the idea that there was some good to be done here. But the longer she stayed, the more she doubted that any good would come for Tormauz.

Perhaps the biggest service she could do for this city was to let it die; put it out of its misery, maybe help it along a little. She restrained the small dark smile that wanted to leap on her face at the thought; the same smile that had come unbidden to her when the plague-mistress had said she would be feared. Let the plague and the Attreides army bring Tormauz down, and let what’s left of it smother the underground to death. That would be one way to get rid of Shazikgun. The Rhydokahn… well, it’d probably laugh and move on. But the city… leave it to people like Calemond who had nothing else to do but care about it. Laryeim had to answer the blood lust - no, the blood line was what she meant – of the Keepers. She moved her shoulders in her pack, felt the weight of the sword still there. Blood lust… her kin were warrior priests. Is that why Grandfather refused to teach her the sword? Is that why he was so protective of her, keeping things from her, because he knew what she was?

Laryeim didn't like this in herself, didn't understand it. Feared it, even. She would do what she could to help. And though she felt helpless to make anything better here, she would try. At the very least, she could give what aid she could to the people who could make a difference. Calemond. Festous, even. Perhaps even these two new allies - Wynn and Jhya. With some effort, Laryeim brought her hostility under control, and by the time she raised her eyes to the rude woman there was barely a remnant of a dangerous glare in her eyes. This place was, to Jhya, at least, some sort of haven. And what did it really matter if Laryeim’s presence here was misunderstood by the inhabitants?

And she’d gotten what she needed. “Thank you for the water,” she said, almost politely. Grandfather would be so proud. Hadn’t he insisted that she always control herself? Perhaps for good reason...

Laryeim slung her unstrung bow over her shoulder and held the priest's staff in that hand. She placed the cloth in the bowl and balanced it in her other hand. Thus burdened, she wandered, a bit wobbly, out of the kitchen and into the inn, looking for a more secluded location to wash in.

Hi, LT. Please confirm that she can find an empty room to wash up in undisturbed. Then I'll write up her next bit and get her back out for some food and hunting down one of the PCs
An empty room


"Madam Blue, greetings, I am Jhya Mayven, we had once met before. I was wondering if we could have a private moment to do business."
Jhya gets an awkward look on his face trying to think of something to add to that statement as not to be confusing.
"Not the usual sort of business... not that I wouldn't appreciate that kind of business... I just have other thing of importance... not that I don't think your time is important... I mean I do, I'm just sort of desperate... but not in that way... not that I'm think any one who comes here does so because they're desperate... I mean I just don't think about you in those terms... not that you aren't beautiful and that I wouldn't, just that I can't... I mean right now, I can't right now, not that I couldn't... I mean I'd love to but first things first."
Jhya's eyes get wider and as they do, he talks faster and gets redder.


He back in that hallway, alone this time, with the demon beast padding behind him. It was happening again. He walked a bit further before his nerve broke and he ran. Mosha followed after him. Wynn ran as fast as he could, ran towards the light at the end of the tunnel. The beast was gaining on him. Suddenly he was surrounded by the white light. He awoke, covered in sweat to find that Jhya had opened the shutters. Wynn muttered something incoherent and hid under his pillow.

When Jhya had offered him the bed, Wynn had put up no arguments and instead fell upon it like a sack of stones. He was asleep before his face even hit the bed. Then the dreams had started persisting throughout the night. Sometimes he ran, sometimes he fought, but he could never escape the demon that followed him. He was so exhausted by the time that he was woken up that he managed to fall back into a quiet, dreamless sleep under his pillow.

Wynn awoke a second time to the sound of a door closing, this time for good. He felt more rested, but the wound on his arm was throbbing. He looked down at his arm, remembering how many times that night had used it to shield himself from the demon's fangs. He looked around. In the daytime light, he could clearly see the squalor of the room. He looked back at the bed that he had slept on and instantly regretted it. His room at the Eunoch was downright luxurious in comparison.

Dammit! He remembered that he needed to get back to the Eunoch to get his things before they threw them out, since he hadn't paid to extend his stay. Come to think of it, he probably didn't even have the money to do so. He'd go over right now and get his things... and maybe some food to quiet his rumbling stomach. A bath would be nice as well. He tried to straighten his clothes and gathered his weapons. There wasn't a mirror in the room. It's probably better that way, he reassured himself.

Outside his door, Wynn heard the muffled sounds of people busying themselves in the kitchen. The smell of food overpowered his self control and he instinctively headed in that direction. He met Laryeim in the hallway heading in the opposite direction. She had a large bowl of water and a cloth and was looking all around like she was lost. Good... er... morning, he greeted her, glad to see someone he knew, you haven't seen Jhya around, have you?


Laryeim was ridiculously happy to see a friendly face, and a relieved grin swept over face at the sight of Wynn. He was rumpled and stank almost as badly as she did, which only widened her grin. To his question, she shook her head. Then, "We look a mess, eh? This is all they've got to wash with, I guess." Laryeim lifted the bowl with regret. "You sleep okay? How's your arm?"

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