Vander Rimgate
Thief
The following statement is true: the preceding statment is false.
Posts: 29
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Post by Vander Rimgate on Nov 25, 2012 21:25:03 GMT -6
He had been right. The doorknob had been hilarious, if overly complex; he would have to remind himself in the future to do something...simpler.
But enough about that.
The inn room had been nice, after some more cleaning it up, although it had cost several odd jobs (and, consequently, several baths) to pay for the room. It kept him occupied, though, so he decided any complaints would be discourteous. Not that the loud-mouth inn-keep cared, nor the annoying priest, nor...well, those two were really the only annoying ones, even if some of the other townsfolk were bumpkins.
Even so, it was work, something to do...
Who am I kidding, he moaned to himself as he dressed. If something doesn't happen within the next couple days, I'm turning this entire town upside-down to see if anyone even cares. I certainly won't, because I'm ditching this place...soon. It'll have to be soon.
He wanted someone interesting, at least, besides that priest...and he had just labeled the priest as 'interesting.' Yup, he had. Won. Der. Ful. The thief put his head into his hands; it probably wouldn't have been so terrible if he hadn't had to restrain himself. The door prank would have been a massive mistake if it hadn't paid out so well, but it had still been clumsy, over-confident, and...well, the 'pay out' had been that it was hilarious, which wasn't worth that much effort. Afterward, he hadn't felt like pulling anything over anybody, which led to...boredom.
Maybe he would change that today. Start small so he didn't get run out of town or tire himself out, maybe take the legs out of a chair or something. Or something beneficial, like...he'd think of something later, he decided as he finally left the room.
Of course, he was spared the trouble by Cen being present--and conscious, that was important--in the dining room-slash-entrance, along with the slightly-interesting wife of the inn-keeper.
So how to act...?
Subtle. Subtle could work. With a very (very, very) subtle smile, Vander waved toward the recovered lancer, walked over, and seated himself beside Cen, crossing his arms and trying to look as relaxed as possible. "I'm guessing you're doing well enough, seeing as your newer caretaker isn't anywhere in the vicinity," he said once he was comfortable.
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Cen
Cavalier
Cowards die many deaths, the valiant taste of death but once.
Posts: 196
Profession: Bodyguard
Affinity: Light
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Cen on Nov 25, 2012 22:14:24 GMT -6
A plate of ham with fried eggs was placed in front of Cen, who grinned at the woman who placed it there. He'd always liked ham. It wasn't as good as beef, but he was more comfortable with it than chicken. They had kept chickens at the farm and he'd always hated seeing a plate of the meat, and wondering which of the animals he fed each morning were dead in front of him. Of course, he liked the taste, so he could occasionally move past it.
He tucked in to the Ham fairly quickly, and savored the taste. It was good to have food fit for a man, when all he'd had the last few days were assoted soups and bread. He pushed his egg onto the spoon and felt the yolk run over his lips as he bit in. He felt he could finish the plate in front of him in a matter of seconds if he tried.
Then he saw Vander, "Hello, Vander!"" He said it through a mouth full of food. Newer caretaker? Who was that? "Newer caretaker? Who's that?"
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Irmo
Priest
"Bah, people."
Posts: 120
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Post by Irmo on Nov 26, 2012 18:19:03 GMT -6
The door to the inn flew open and Irmo walked in. It swished silently closed as he strode toward Cen. Blasted people, he thought. Three days of nothing but complaints. Cuts, bruises, you name it they had it. They all thought a healer meant all their various inconveniences and trivial ailments could be fixed. He eyed Vander as he made his way to the other side of Cen.
"Feeling better?" Irmo asked, not expecting an answer. He looked over his patient. Seems to be fine... "Well, good, now I can get away from these blasted villagers. Oh, and I'd eat some bread with that." He made his way over to the other side of Vander. He made sure to leave a seat between them.
"Sir, I'd like 3 loaves of bread and some water," Irmo called to the inn keeper. "Oh, and some kinda of meat would be nice." He took some gold from his pocket. Bah, people. He waited silently for his meal, hoping to Elimine that Vander wouldn't say anything to him.
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Vander Rimgate
Thief
The following statement is true: the preceding statment is false.
Posts: 29
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Post by Vander Rimgate on Nov 27, 2012 19:01:47 GMT -6
Of course. Cen had been unconscious when the priest had walked in and started showing off. Had he really not woken up at all for the last few days? Vander wasn't sure; he had made sure to avoid the scene of the (*ahem*) crime, and Ir--the priest certainly hadn't told him anything. "I'm surprised he's not here already," the thief answered, studiously ignoring the food. He wasn't terribly hungry, anyway, and he wasn't about to interrupt his conversation to talk to the inn-keeper...yet. At least his wife was handling it this time.
Sidetracked. "Anyway, he'll probably be around, he seems to be attached to finishing the job," his smile faded a little, "...if nothing else." The thief leaned forward in his chair, resting crossed arms on the table. "But you know, I'll bet he comes in at the most dramatic moment, completely by mis-"
The door slammed open, and Irmo came in at the most dramatic moment, looking exactly as Vander expected him to look: peeved. So peeved that Vander felt, personally, that a bit of lightning wouldn't have been out of place...
"Feeling better?" Then, of course, his bovine voice had to ruin it, turning an innocent question into a resounding performance of, 'Why am I allowed to taaaaaalk?' The priest than proceeded to complain about the villagers--Vander really couldn't blame him, having seen them swarm around the stick-wielding magic man, even if it was a bit...rude--and order food for himself, which would make the thief the only person at the table without something to occupy his hands. Of course, it also meant he could blather without restraint if the mood took him, but awkward it was.
Well, the inn-keeper and his wife were already occupied, so he had some time to kill, starting with introductions. "This, Cen--" the priest had tried to put enough space to avoid contact with him but, smooth worker that he was, Vander simply slipped into the next seat so he could clap the priest on the back--"would be your new caretaker. I'm sad to say the Crimson Cleric left us shortly after you fell asleep, off on some dazzling adventure, I'm sure; never-the-less, this fine gentleman showed up to save the day--" Meaning he popped in to make sure you weren't dying every few hours--"and here you are, back on your feet." He finally took his arm away from Irmo and returned to his original position, neatly sliding back to his original seat. "I have to say, it's good to have him here." Or else I would be bored out of my skull right now. Maybe.
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Cen
Cavalier
Cowards die many deaths, the valiant taste of death but once.
Posts: 196
Profession: Bodyguard
Affinity: Light
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Cen on Nov 28, 2012 20:38:13 GMT -6
A man made an entrance into the inn. Cen could tell he was going to be loud. Why did everyone he met have to be so eccentric? He fought the urge to go get his things and leave. Apparently this was the men who'd looked after him the last few days. Fantastic. Cen just hoped none of the flash rubbed off on him. "Feeling better?" Meh, it was a little hot in here, and his feet hurt.
"Ah-I'm fine thank you, and thank you for taking care of me." He turned to Vander, "That's unfortunate that Elias had to leave. I think ah have to stay here for a few days at least, what do you plan to do?" He noted the Priest-Esq fellow buying food and stopped a serving maid to get some ham for Vander.
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Cen
Cavalier
Cowards die many deaths, the valiant taste of death but once.
Posts: 196
Profession: Bodyguard
Affinity: Light
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Cen on Dec 22, 2012 20:09:33 GMT -6
A plate was now placed in front of Vander. A note was now placed in front of Cen. He opened the folded piece of torn parchment, Wood. Axe. Chop.[]color] What a talent for literature Mr. Hart must have. Cen stood, [color= It appears mah-my work starts today, thanks Milord..." Cen waved his hand in the air looking at the Priest. "Enjoy your breakfast Vander, Ah'd appreciate it if you joined me when you're through. You could as well Milord... Well, I wouldn't mind some company."
Wood. Axe. Chop. Again and again. Cen began to work up a sweat, so he wiped his brow with his shirt. He looked down at his chest and stomach and wasn't plased with what he saw. Cen had never been incredibly strong, but he'd always had pride in not looking like a narrow stick. He'd lost almost all his mass in his days in bed. Chopping the wood grew in importance with this revelation.
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Vander Rimgate
Thief
The following statement is true: the preceding statment is false.
Posts: 29
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Post by Vander Rimgate on Jan 12, 2013 23:18:44 GMT -6
Ham.
Either Cen had a sense of humor, or this was a hilarious coincidence and Vander should be laughing.
Right about now.
Why did he just order me ham?
...Okay, maybe he could laugh after he puzzled out that inexplicable bit of...happening. It was probably just an attempt at being courteous, but had Vander at some point indicated that he couldn't afford food? He had been staying here for three days, so he obviously had some means of providing for himself! Whatever "noble" training left in him urged him to accept the meal and never speak of it again; the prideful part, common sense part, the "this is too clever to be his joke" part collectively decided that the noble training part needed to be quiet or face a horrendous amount of abuse.
He could still be polite, he guessed...if Cen hadn't mysteriously vanished in the time it took Vander to graciously accept the plate ("Thanks") to do who-knows-what. Apparently the hick knew how to move here at least, the thief noted dryly.
Well, he had other things he could pay attention to. Like ham. Even if he wasn't hungry...ham.
Bored.
Bored. Bored.
Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored.
Really, grasping for something to do and finding only the option of torturing a sulking priest, finding another dull odd job, helpings an acquaintance with a different dull odd job, or eating was not a good sign. Since the priest probably needed to cool off first--he was ignoring Cen now, which was a bad sign of a different sort--Vander decided that he should actually communicate with Cen for a while.
For some reason.
I'm leaving soon. I'll have to, the thief concluded. This definitely made him feel a little better, so, after finishing the "meal" (making sure to pay the innkeeper's wife and ignoring anything that might have been a "He already payed," which may or may not have been said), and flashing the priest a malicious smile and an, "Enjoy your meal," as food for thought, he made his way to the back, where the sturdy lancer was chopping away...well, he didn't look terribly sturdy, now that Vander observed him actually moving, but the thought was there...kind of. And, having found that people showed many interesting things about themselves when they worked, the brown-haired man borrowed a few longs at the end of the pile and set them up as a seat from which to observe the lancer.
Chop.
He's done this before, came first as he noted the practiced, staccato swing.
Chop.
...But not in a little while, or not too often. It was definitely practiced, but it wasn't an easy swing, more like the chopper was subconsciously trying to remember his old grip.
Chop.
He's exerting himself more than-- "You're putting a little too much effort into that, aren't you?" he said in between one set of chops. He carefully schooled his tone into something...well, he went for neutral, clinical, the tone of someone who had an interest only from a desire to have an interest.
Because there really wasn't much else to be interested in at the moment.
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Cen
Cavalier
Cowards die many deaths, the valiant taste of death but once.
Posts: 196
Profession: Bodyguard
Affinity: Light
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Cen on Jan 20, 2013 23:24:47 GMT -6
Cen placed another log onto the chopping block, and raised the axe as a bead of sweat ran down his nose. He brought it down with a large exhalation of heat rising from his throat. The axe got stuck in the chopping block. Cen's shoulders slumped, and he pushed against it. It was odd that his muscles could drive it to a point where he could not take it back out. He lowered his body, and pumped his legs, trying as he could to push the damned thing free. Wouldn't you know he couldn't.
He slumped to the ground placing his head in his hands. He began to laugh. A small chuckle at first, that grew into a head thrown back howling at the grey sky. "My brothers could pull this stump from the ground. Here ah sit, not even able to heft an axe from it. Being able to do a task a man should be able to do means something more when your mind constantly makes that comparison."
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Vander Rimgate
Thief
The following statement is true: the preceding statment is false.
Posts: 29
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Post by Vander Rimgate on Jan 24, 2013 23:42:56 GMT -6
Vander waited for an answer...and waited...and waited.
Was the bumpkin deaf? He couldn't have simply missed it otherwise, because the thief had made sure to speak loud enough to be heard over the ax, timing it at a point exactly between the strokes. What was more, Cen wasn't even chopping anymore, he just appeared to be...ah. That made much more sense.
This, this is why I hate chopping wood, Vander thought ruefully. Those blocks completely defy logic. The lancer seemed equally frustrated after a few vain attempts as he collapsed onto ground, his head in his hands.
The brown-haired thief continued to sit on his log, watching, until he determined that the problem wasn't going to solve itself. They usually didn't, but it never hurt to check...and then Cen started laughing...and laughing...releasing a depraved, grating noise that brought to mind the sheer doltish tone of the Idiot Priest, but with a twisted edge that gave it a sinister undertone. And made it more annoying. It went on just long enough that Vander considered taking a log and putting the two of them out of their misery; he was already beginning to stand in preperation for the deed when Cen finally stopped, seguing into--
"My brothers could pull this stump from the ground. Here ah sit, not even able to heft an axe from it. Being able to do a task a man should be able to do means something more when your mind constantly makes that comparison."
...
Vander considered numerous possible responses before deciding on a shrug and the statement, "Only child here. Sorry," before cautiously approaching to examine the ax.
It was certainly buried deep, deep enough that, not only was the thief unsure of his ability to move it, but he also had to resist the urge to say, "I told you so."
"I had thought you were swinging too hard."
...Well, he made a valiant effort to resist, anyway.
With that utterly failed, he could put more effort into doing something productive like his first task.
He started by carefully looking on all sides, checking the angle, poking at the handle; having determined his course of action, he looked for one final piece...and didn't find anything that could fit the bill.
Well, he had committed to this now, so he wasn't about to back down. At least the ground was fairly grassy. Thus resolved, Vander found the best patch of ground possible, set his back on said patch, put his legs against the weapon's handle, and began to push.
The minute that followed was probably incredibly boring. Vander couldn't tell, because he was busy doing horrible things to his neck and back in pursuit of a liberated wood cutter. But, after that probably-boring minute, the thief straightened, rubbing his sore neck but thoroughly satsified with his work.
After the constant pressure, the ax was still trapped in the stump; however, it was now at a rather precarious angle, with its shoulder mere inches from the stump.
Realizing that he seemed to have ignored his companion, he said, "If you've said anything, I haven't been listening. Feel free to repeat it now," and climbed onto the stump, balancing precariously as he prepared for the final...ahem, "step".
Oh, Vander, if you weren't me you would be in big trouble for thinking that pun.
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Cen
Cavalier
Cowards die many deaths, the valiant taste of death but once.
Posts: 196
Profession: Bodyguard
Affinity: Light
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Cen on Feb 17, 2013 21:48:18 GMT -6
Ooc: Piddly post is piddly.
Cen stood and watched what the man did. It was an odd idea, but it seemed to work to an extent. Cen helped pull the axe free after the man had made a large effort. He nodded to him, and place another piece of wood on the block. He lifted his axe. Chop. Wood. Axe. Chop. He kept it up as something struck his mind.
"Why are you here Vander? What are the chances two men came to the same destination after leaving the same start? Not that, you know, ah think you followed me or anything. Just, is that fate? Does fate work for such simple purposes?"
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Irmo
Priest
"Bah, people."
Posts: 120
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Post by Irmo on Feb 19, 2013 15:23:02 GMT -6
Irmo completely ignored Vander as they sat there and ate. He barely noticed when he left. Good riddance, Irmo thought, letting out a sigh. He cut a slice of meat off and began to chew. Now where to go from here. Mmmmmm, this steak is delicious. To bad the cook will never know. And then he realized the bar maid was talking to him.
"I heard there was some people looking for you out front," she said, moving her eyes to the door.
Say what, Irmo thought, doing his best to ignore her. Who would be looking for- Oh no. He quickly shoveled his food into his mouth and swigged his water to wash it down. Money flew from his hand and loaves of bread were headed for his bag. And the door opened.
"We're looking for a healer," A man's voice came from the door. Irmo was already sneaking toward the back.
"Well he was just here," the bar maid said, looking around for Irmo.
Elimine help me, Irmo thought as he quickly made his way toward the back, still stuffing bread into his bag.
"But we really need to see him," Irmo heard the man saying. He could here several other voices and complaints as well.
Ah, there it is! Irmo thought, catching sight of the back door. He hurried toward it through the kitchen, completely ignoring the people he ran into. Yes! The door flew open as he burst out, and slammed as he threw himself on it to keep the people away. He turned to look for the next direction of flight and saw exactly who he didn't want to see.
"By the Saint," Irmo cursed, looking between the door and the other two.
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Vander Rimgate
Thief
The following statement is true: the preceding statment is false.
Posts: 29
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Post by Vander Rimgate on Feb 22, 2013 22:03:15 GMT -6
Well, the ax was free, his neck was recovering, and...
Chop.
...he was sorely tempted to start watching the grass grow. There was only so much one revealed in chopping wood, after all; how he had ever managed to do it himself without going insane or doing something ridiculous was beyond him. Had he really been that desperate for money back then...? It didn't really matter, and the bumpkin was asking more questions anyway. At least it featured something besides hulking siblings and the profoundly uninteresting stump.
Vander considered the rapid-fire queries for a moment. How did this happen? It hadn't even been...what, one or two weeks since the two had encountered each other in Bulgar for that short stint. At the time, he had no intention of coming to the heel-end of Lycia, nor did he expect any reason for it; add to that the fact that Cen had somehow ended up here, and the coincidence seemed...odd.
He had no idea, but the lancer didn't need to know that. "You are right that I would have no reason to follow you." He turned toward the inn, surveyeing the landscape for something to look at contemplatively catching himself in the melodramatic act. "As for fate? I don't know; perhaps we aren't involved in such 'simple' things at all. Maybe something is set to begin around us, sometime soon-" he very much doubted that, "-like in all those stories people spend hours of their lives telling." To spite his best efforts, his eyes had settled on a stray piece of thatch, clinging to its roof for...well, no reason, he would guess, but he probably could have found some sort of metaphor if he wanted to. "On a more...realistic, some people--such as myself, and apparently you--have some natural sense for strange events. It might not be that events occur because of a person involved, but that the person is involved because of the event..." (not really), "...or perhaps-"
Naturally, the beautiful ending to his musings, the words that he would have had to make up on the spot in such a way as to astound the soul-searching man behind him (and answer his question), was interrupted by the arrival of High Priest of the Church of Being Annoying.
Oh, did Vander know that look: the comical, but thoroughly earnest expression of a hunted man. It was made all the more comical by the Idiot Priest's normally inexpressive face; Vander knew exactly what to do in these situations: prepare to intercept the prey, cup his mouth with both hands, and yell out, "He's over here! I've got him trapped!"
...Well, normally that would be the sequence; this time, however, it went directly from step two to step two-point-five, in which the thief burst out laughing. His hands dropped from his face and, while he managed to repress the initial urges to place them on his knees or stomach, one of them strayed to his forehead. "Well, well, we finally found something our wonderful priest can't heal! What is it? An unpaid bill? An attack on the town? Or...worse..." he managed to smother his laughter just long enough to adopt a conspiratorial tone as he whispered, "...is it...the dreaded human beeeeiiingsss??" The last word was elongated as he forced it through laughter. Seeing (rather, hearing) the man's fury over a broken doorknob had been fun enough, but seeing the oh-so-mighty Idiot Priest so utterly at a loss...this was priceless!
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Cen
Cavalier
Cowards die many deaths, the valiant taste of death but once.
Posts: 196
Profession: Bodyguard
Affinity: Light
OoC Alias: Selibas
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Post by Cen on Feb 27, 2013 10:51:38 GMT -6
As Cen listened to Vander's thoughts on fate he finished the last of the wood. Then the priest man, the healing gentleman, fell on his face. Great, another flamboyant, loud man with a staff here to escalate a situation. Not that that was fair, both of the flamboyant men had helped him with their staves, and he ought to be grateful. He set all the wood in a pile as Vander interrogated the man. Then Vander just... Just laughed.
Well that was odd. It did seem like the man was running from something. Cen looked towards the inns attic, where his lance sat. He put the axe on his shoulder. "If you need help, I am in your debt. Of course, if you run, I won't tell them which way." Ah yes, a poor attempt of humor to mask fear of people swinging things at him in a few minutes. Classic. He wasn't very proficient with a lance, let alone an axe. A good deed was a good deed.
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Irmo
Priest
"Bah, people."
Posts: 120
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Post by Irmo on Feb 28, 2013 11:53:40 GMT -6
Irmo just stood there a second. Why... why... why... his mind was on a loop as he tried to process his predicament. He cleared his throat as he came to, and straightened his robes as he tried to keep his face from turning red.
"Cen," Irmo said, nodding at the man, "Phineas." He made the same gesture as before. He turned back to Cen. "No, I think I've escaped for now. Blasted people." He muttered the last part. Ignore him... ignore him... But if I ignore him I have to talk to this guy. And I don't want to talk to this guy. But I don't want to talk to him either. So he just stood there. And stood there. It seemed like forever, but it was only a few seconds. He couldn't take it.
Irmo moved over a bit from the door and sat against the wall. Blast that Phineas, and blast common folk! He sat there and fumed a few moments before regaining his composure. "So... what are you guy's up to?"
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Vander Rimgate
Thief
The following statement is true: the preceding statment is false.
Posts: 29
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Post by Vander Rimgate on Mar 7, 2013 20:45:57 GMT -6
In the name of whatever was holy, these two had no sense of humor. Not that Vander had expected either of them to laugh--especially not the Idiot Priest, of course--but Cen seemed far more aliented than he should have been after a joke like that.
Oh well. Idiot's looking like a cow again, so I guess I should see if I can start his brain up again. He nearly did just that, but then Cen started talking again. "Help? In his debt?" the thief muttered, mildly abashed. Had he really made the Idiot Priest seem so important? He supposed he might have overdone the accolades; there was no other explanation for the lancer giving so much credit to checked in every few hours and waved a stick around or something like that. Heck, Vander could have managed that much! The Crimson Cleric had taken care of almost everything, so how much debt could there possibly be?
Idiot was talking again, which had the dubious benefit of bringing the thief back to the present. Now who the heck was Phi-? Had he really called himself Phineas? What kind of alias was that! Clearly, he hadn't been thinking clearly that day. Maybe he needed to memorize a list of possible names, ones that he could mix and match with impunity. It would prevent disasters like this from occuring aga-
"So...what are you guys up to?"
...Buhwha?
All that panic over a few people, and he opens up the floor with a greeting that would have sounded less out of place in any other voice. It was like the Idiot was structured to be as off-putting and annoying as possible. Based on his panic, Vander imagined there was some kind of army in miniature behind that door; he took his eyes off the Idiot, as much to keep his eyes intact as to help him determine whether to burst into the inn, shouting, "HERE HE IS! TAKE AWAY THIS BLIGHT ON THE WORLD BEFORE HE BORES ME ANY MORE!"
Naturally, he didn't get to say any such thing. The scrawny kid that pushed open the now-unguarded door took the choice out of his hands.
He was about Cen's age, Vander would guess,or a bit younger, and even more naive, giving a full-blown start at the sight of the occupied yard. Honestly, what was he expecting? He would probably need to be nearly deaf to avoid hearing the lowing coming out of the Idiot...but then he started talking, too, which didn't support the deaf theory. "E...excuse me, but have you seen a healer of some sort come through here?"
Well, maybe the Nitwit only sounded loud to his ears. That was the only explanation that wasn't too insulting to everyone around him. Now, if he could just keep his attention on the door, he could have half a moment to choose a response...hmm...well, that was easy. "Why do you need him?" he said, walking slowly to the wall opposite Irmo. He could always call him out if he tried to run off before the end of the conversation. "You don't seem like you're in any hurry, so noone's seriously injured. I can tell you right now, if it's a stubbed toe or something like that, he'll probably start swinging that staff in a more harmful way, and I'd rather be the one to drive him to that."
It was nice seeing someone confused by his efforts again, and the kid's recovery was quick enough to avoid before Vander. "I, uh...no, noone's hurt. We just need him for a litte outing, 'sall."
Outing? That sounded interesting. "And what sort of 'outing' needs a trained healer?"
"Well..." This kid had some personality, at least; he was trying to hide it, but he was clearly proud of what he said next. "M' dad's teaching me to hunt in the woods, but he says we can't go in very far unless we get some help. Keeps saying there's bears and things...but if we have someone t' heal us if things go wrong, we'll be good, right?"
...No, having a squishy healer around would not make you 'good' if a bear attacked, and Vander couldn't believe that anyone could believe that.
This had nothing to do with his reason for shifting his view to the Idiot Priest and saying, "Well, sounds more interesting than chopping wood and dealing with stubbed bruises, doesn't it, Priest? I honestly think I might like to see these woods myself..." Ignoring the stunned reaction of the ignorant hunter-to-be--who, Vander hoped, was better at tracking animals than people--the brown-haired man turned to the other occupant of the yard and continued, "...plus, you could probably do with an outing. And hey-" a sly smile, "-nothing makes up for sick days better than running from an angry bear."
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