Setting Out [Diarmut, Clyde]

[Clyde Herst]

Clyde was uncomfortable and was having a hard time figuring out why. He was pretty sure it didn't have to do with the ridiculous position he was in.His back was on the hard earth sure, but it felt cool and pleasant contrasted with the midday sun. The reason for his ridiculous position, working on the busted livestock fence, was a non-issue as well; Clyde was very much used to working odd jobs in sunny afternoons in exchange for food and lodging. The village itself didn't seem that different to many of the villages he'd dropped by in the past few years. The only thing of note was that it was relatively new and a bit east of the Rhine river. It also seemed to have almost a suspicious amount of good fortune. None of the current evils plaguing the realm seemed to take notice of it, and the earth had been kind to the village with harvest and available resources. It was almost difficult prying odd jobs out of the villagers when Clyde had first arrived, but they were a good natured sort and took Clyde in without much of a fuss. It wasn't long until they realized Clyde was pretty easy to bribe to take on labor with just a little food and a bit more spirits. Clyde enjoyed the trade and was puzzled why something would feel off.

Clyde frowned. Well if it wasn't the village, the weather, or lack of food and spirit in his stomach what the heck had him so on edge? He tried to sit up only to bang his head on the fence he was trying to fix. Rubbing his wound, he rummaged
for his flask located somewhere in his cowl. Well, if he couldn't well find the source of the problem he'd drown the symptom if he could just find his flask. It wasn't in it's usual hiding place. Grimacing, Clyde stood and brushed himself off.He wasn't going to get much more work done without his companion. Clyde lumbered back toward where the village had been putting him up to begin his search.

[Diarmut]

How long had he stood there, on that road, mouth scrunched up tight and foot kicking anxiously at the ground?

When Diarmut first left the conclave, he had been aware that the journey would be a long one. Striking out on one's own was hard enough even for those who were prepared; in Diarmut's case, not only was he unprepared but he was thoroughly ignorant of...well, everything. His basic survival skills were fine. He could hunt, start fires, and find shelter well enough, but he got the feeling that such a barebones routine wasn't what most would call "living". Not only that, but he had always been taught that humans had more difficulty weathering the elements of the world. If he didn't want to raise any suspicion (and oh how he didn't), he would need to find a way to acquire things like a tent, a bedroll, and a satchel. Unfortunately, he knew of only one way to find such items.

And that brought him to the present. The manakete squinted at the village a few meters in front of him, as if somehow it would make him appear less obvious. Of course, the people of the village were simply going about their business; not a single pair of eyes had drifted to the traveling dragon, though none would be able to convince him of that. Not as jittery as he was in that moment. "Hnnnn...c'mon, Diarmut. You didn't make this journey just to freeze up at the first obstacle."

And yet frozen he was. "D...dammit..."

[Clyde Herst]

It wasn't the boy's fault really. Clyde was already on high alert due to the lack of his dulling companion and the sensation in his gut that had been plaguing him all day. In truth he had felt something familiar to it before, something back in the old days when he had felt moved by something greater. It had him pondering, trying to pin down what if anything in his surroundings had stirred up the old feelings of purpose. Compound that with Clyde having to train his situational awareness when he originally embarked on his journey and it was a wonder Clyde didn't notice the boy sooner.

The village was relatively small, so it wasn't much of a walk from the fence to the main road through the village. The villagers were all going about their daily work, and a few even stopped to say hello to Clyde. It was crossing the street that Clyde first set eyes on the boy. He had been introduced to much of the villagers and their children in the few days he had lodged there, but the boy was unfamiliar. He was just a few meters outside of town. so he wasn't too difficult to spot. Clyde squinted his eyes a bit and tried to peg if the boy was a traveler like himself. He didn't see any telltale signs like provisions for a journey. Could be that he was a kid from a neighboring town, but the ones that Clyde was aware of were at least a two-day journey away. You never knew though. Clyde hadn't been around these parts for a few years, and he hadn't known about this town either until he stumbled into it about a week ago. Clyde decided it probably wouldn't hurt to introduce himself. It was always easier to get accustomed to an unfamiliar place if a someone was helping you along. Besides, even if the kid was familiar to the town getting to know a fresh face can lead to all sorts of things. Maybe it would lead him to a clue about what was off today; the flask would have to wait. Walking toward the boy and doing his best to look amicable, Clyde shouted "Oy, boy! How's today treating ya? Need help around the village?"

[Diarmut]

In that moment it became very clear that Diarmut needed to add the definition of "frozen" to the long list of things he didn't actually understand. Whatever had been happening before did not qualify as frozen. The reaction he was having to Clyde's shouting, however, most certainly would. His mind was racing, his heart was pumping; his entire body wanted nothing more than to take flight, literally, but was planted to the ground as firmly as the tree beside him. His rationality hung on by a single desparate thread, using all of its meager power to keep him from acting impulsively and raising suspicion.

Of course not responding to the human, and while stiff as a board no less, wouldn't exactly help him achieve that. Diarmut closed his eyes briefly, exerting all of his willpower in an effort to invoke the calm mind he had spent so many years honing. He managed to take a deep breath and opened his eyes with determination, however fragile. "H-hello!" he called back, surprised at the volume in his own voice. Before his fear could paralyze him once more, he began to jog over toward the village entrance and the man who had called out to him.

"I...I'm doing well, um...sir," he said slowly upon reaching the man in question. "I was..." Diarmut frowned and trailed off before he'd even really begun to explain himself. His adrenaline quickly grinding to a halt, anxiety once again threatened to claim him. The dragon dug his thumb into his palm in frustration and opened his mouth to continue. "I was just passing through. I need to find traveling gear." He finally met Clyde's gaze, his dark eyes at last displaying a bit of assuredness. "Could you please help me?"

[Clyde Herst]

Well, Clyde had asked if the boy needed help. However, he had expected the boy's response to lead to a lack of questions not more of the darn things. On a closer look, the boy appeared like he was on the early side of his teenage years. It wasn't unheard of that boys his age would set out on trips from their hometowns, but usually those boys had someone accompanying them or at the very least were loaded up with provisions by their family. Could be the boy had been an unfortunate victim of a robbery. It would explain his hesitant demeanor. However bandits these days rarely left victims alive as unfortunate as it was, and the glint of the boy's circlet made certain he at least wasn't seen by any such rogues. There could be all sorts of scenarios and answers to the new questions that arose, but it wouldn't do much good to ponder them without more information. Clyde rubbed his stubble and heaved a sigh. He could really use his flask about now. The mystery surrounding the boy poked his already agitated intuition like a child poking a bee hive.

Clyde quieted his mind and made it refocus on the one thing that really mattered. The only thing the boy seemed sure about was that he needed help, and Clyde was going to assist him. He used to be a man of the cloth, and St. Elimine's fire take him if he couldn't provide some assistance to a fellow traveler. Clyde made sure his face reflected his benign intentions and told the boy, "Ah, another traveler then! I myself am only passing through as well! Been here a few days though, and I can at least show you around town and introduce you to the people who may be able to get you what you need. The name's Clyde." Clyde thought a moment. Maybe he could start getting some more information as well. The more he knew, the more he could help. "Where might you be heading to? If you don't mind me asking of course. Good to have in mind what you might need is all."

[Diarmut]

Diarmut scrutinized Clyde carefully. There was a certain strangeness about him, one that the manakete could identify even without a frame of reference. Regardless, he seemed willing to help and that was really all the boy needed. "I'm Diarmut," he replied quietly as Clyde introduced himself. He briefly wondered if he should've come up with a fake name, perhaps one more suited to humans, but realized that he really had no idea what that would even be. 'Oh well,' he thought to himself, 'It would've been just as weird to introduce myself with hesitation'. He made a mental note to remember any names he could catch and put the matter to rest.

When his newfound tour guide asked where he was headed, he glanced up at him anxiously and frowned. Without addressing the question, he took a few tentative steps into town. At this distance he could see everything with great clarity. From the structures, built sturdy and immobile, to to the simple clothing on the villagers' backs, to the ratty stuffed animals in the arms of frolicking children, everything was quite different from the only other settlement he'd ever known. He gulped down his terror, committed now to fulfilling his need.

As he walked he turned his head back to look for Clyde, hoping that the man was following him. "I...I was thinking I'll need a tent, and maybe a bedroll and some tools for making other necessities," he began, making every effort to keep his voice level and clear. "A needle and thread, for example. Oh! And a bag."

[Clyde Herst]

Well, the kid was at least a little street-wise. Though the boy could do a little better with covering up his awkward points. The lack of an answer to Clyde's question was pretty noticeable. The boy was smart to keep moving and give an alternate answer though. It wasn't like Clyde needed the information anyway; the boy had given him plenty of to go off of for now. The most likely scenario Clyde could think of that would explain Diarmut would be a runaway lordling. It wasn't unheard of, but they did usually meet with bad-ends. Clyde would have to be on his guard for pursuers mixing up him trying to help the little lord rather than something more sinister. Clyde did his best to prepare himself mentally for the scenario while still trying to keep his mind open to conflicting information and followed the boy back into the village. Clyde quickly overtook him and started leading the way into the main part of the village. As they walked Clyde responded, "Hmm those might be doable. Margret I know does a lot of the sewing around here, and she's sure to have spare needles and thread laying around. Largo may have an old bed roll and perhaps even a tent lying around. He was once in the army a long time ago and held onto the useful bits and pieces."

Margret they'd find in one of the homes on the right just off the main road, so Clyde turned a little in that direction and made sure the boy was still beside him. He looked at the boy who hadn't seemed to bring much into the village, "Well now that we've got what you need in mind, do you have anything to trade for those supplies. I know they accept coin here, but they prefer bartering." Clyde smiled at the boy and then waited for Diarmut's response. Wouldn't do good to rush him, but he was sure Margret would thwack him on his already wounded head if he brought a strange boy that wanted her sewing supplies and didn't have anything to trade for it. He was already planning on leaving in a few days after he had finished working off his debt. He didn't want to extend that much longer though the village was certainly pleasant. However, he'd offer to extend the stay if the boy truly didn't have anything he was willing to lose.

[Diarmut]

If Diarmut was truly street-smart, he probably would have noticed that Clyde had intentionally elected not to prod him about the question he deflected. Instead he felt mildly pleased, sincerely believing he had pulled a fast one on the first human he had ever spoken to. The small victory emboldened him, if only just a little, and he felt the stiffness in his posture finally begin to fade. He nodded thoughtfully when Clyde mentioned Margret and Largo, two people who might be able to help the wayward manakete. Naturally he wasn't particularly thrilled that he would have to meet even more humans, but it wasn't like he'd come to this village expecting the supplies to simply lie waiting on the ground for him. 

Then Clyde mentioned payment. Whatever slim confidence Diarmut had mustered flew right out the window, and he got the feeling that this pattern of poised-to-paralyzed wouldn't be letting up any time soon. "B...bartering," he repeated in a hushed, hollow tone. He had nothing to offer but the clothes he wore, the small cape on his back, and the circlet on his forehead. While the two latter items may have held some value, he wasn't exactly eager to trade away his most prized possessions. Diarmut also had no idea if those things would, upon close inspection, reveal something about the dragon blood in his veins or the conclave from which he hailed. No matter how he felt about living there, he had no desire to bring misfortune upon his kin. 

"I, um...I don't think I have anything to barter," he said dejectedly, his eyes firmly fixed upon the ground. "No coin, either." The ignorant boy wanted to punch himself, his every thought a reprimand. Of course he should have known that he would need some form of restitution to get the things he needed! Now not only did he look like a complete fool, but the entire act of entering this settlement was naught but a waste. His feet stopped moving and he hung his head even further, dark red locks falling to cover the sides of his face. "What am I going to do...?" he whispered, mind scrambling to think of something, anything.

[Clyde Herst]

Clyde started laughing as he saw the boy deflate. He didn't mean to be rude; it was just a funny sight to see the kid bounce back and forth from assured to dejected. They were a few feet from Margret's home when Diarmut suddenly stopped. It was indeed looking like Clyde would have to delay his departure if he were to barter his own services. There was always the option of Diarmut staying and working a few days unless he was a lordling and had pursuers coming after him. "There's always something to barter boy," Clyde said smiling. "Even if it ain't material, there's always something that needs doing in such places. Lightening a person's load can make them keen on lightening your own." Clyde walked towards the boy and put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "I don't mind staying a few extra days if it means you get what you need, but maybe you should be open to bartering your own service. Might give you a boost of confidence. Now let's be off." With the lesson out of the way Clyde spun on his heel and walked the last few feet to Margret's door, and gave it a brief knock.

It wasn't long before he heard an older woman cry out, "Be there in a second!" There was a sound of some shuffling and the door opened to reveal a woman half Clyde's height or indeterminate older years. Clyde had once asked how old she was and gotten thwacked much to the onlookers' amusement. Her home wasn't too much to look at: wooden walls, thatch roof, dirt floor, and a small fire place. Clyde gave Margret his best smile and dragged the boy in front of him "This is Diarmut and he'd like to barter with you for a few supplies. He's a good kid and a traveler like me." He felt a little bad for the putting the boy on the spot, but bartering with an old woman for a few things seemed as good of an entry point as any to learning the much needed skill.

[Diarmut]

As soon as the boy hung his head, Clyde's tone quickly transitioned to educational and encouraging. Despite his defeated demeanor, Diarmut took care to listen well to his words. He had heard a few things from his conclave about human settlements, and chief among them was the fairly rigid structure in which they operated. That didn't seem to hold true in this village, however; the bartering system, as the priest explained it, sounded exactly like the way Diarmut and his kin made their trades. The young manakete, pleased with his first discovery that opposed the conclave's suspectedly biased claims, felt his spirit begin to make the up-climb once more.

Though he was a little surprised at how willing Clyde was to change his plans for the sake of a single stranger, he didn't sense a malicious intent behind it. He had to admit, there was a lot he didn't understand. Having a familiar face nearby, even one he'd known for ten seconds, was a comforting thought. He followed Clyde quietly as they made their way to Magret's house. Luckily, given the size of the village, it was a rather brief walk. Diarmut watched intently as Clyde rapped his fist on the door, an act which quickly yielded a response from the woman inside. He tucked away this form of approach in his yet-empty mental store of etiquette and waited with his guide.

As soon as the door opened, Clyde pushed Diarmut in front of him. He took account of the older woman's appearance, trying his best not to be obvious, before bowing his head. He didn't know if it was a terribly appropriate greeting, but he'd always done it when approaching elders in the conclave. "H-hello," he spluttered meekly. "I...I was looking for tools with which to craft cloth or leather goods." Was it just him or was his face getting hot? The poor boy fought back his embarrassment; if he just said his piece he could really get the ball rolling on acquiring supplies. "I don't have anything useful to give you, but would gladly trade services. I do have skill with those tools, and can handle labor as well." Frankly he had no idea if the things he offered were of any value, but it was all he could think to say.

[Clyde Herst]

Diarmut was a bit stiff, but Clyde was impressed with the boy's delivery nonetheless. Margret seemed to be as well as her eyes crinkled with delight and she waved the two of them in. "Well now, I'm sure we can come to some sort of an arrangement," She said as she made her way toward the center of the one room home towards a table. The table itself had various sewing tools and materials strewn about and what seemed to be Margret's current project laid in the middle. It was a bit too early for Clyde to tell what the final product would be, but the main material was some sort of leather. Clyde asked, "Did we interrupt you in the middle of a project Margret?"

Margret gave him a stern look, "Some of us have to work during the day." Clyde laughed nervously and said, "Well the fence is almost fixed, just went to go back for a belonging when I ran into the young lad here." Margret had been a seamstress in one of the nearby cities for many years before wanting to settle down in the country side. Apparently she had moved out here with her loving Husband, though he had passed away not long after the move. She got by doing any jobs that required sewing for the village and teaching a few of the young girls her techniques. She turned to Diarmut and immediately regained her smile, "Well now Diarmut, why don't you remind me of what you need. I'm sure we can come to some sort of bargain."

[Diarmut]

Diarmut was surprised at the warmth he felt from Margret. Though the only other person he'd encountered so far, Clyde, was possessed of a similar energy, the boy felt quite certain that their mentality was not necessarily commonplace. Even so, he was beginning to feel a bit more at ease in this village. It truly seemed plain and peaceful, an ideal setting for the manakete to gain a little experience and confidence.

As he and Clyde were ushered into the old woman's home, Diarmut immediately took stock of the her workspace. It was in a bit of disarray, but his keen eye could immediately recognize one or two things that could be helpful to him. The craftsmanship of the tools he took note of was quite different from those he used in the conclave, but it was easy enough to tell that they worked the same way. He brought his thumb and forefinger to his chin and closed his eyes for a brief moment, considering what would be best to trade for.

His eyes blinked back open when Margret repeated her inquiry, albeit in slightly different words. "Well, I think I could make do with a pair of triangle scissors and a heavy needle," he said with a degree of certainty. Though crafting his garments from cloth would certainly be more comfortable, leather would meet his needs just as well with the added bonus of being more durable. Not only that, but with a little thread he could make himself the satchel and tent along with many other things he might come to require. "Perhaps a spool of something sturdy as well, if possible." He glanced over to Clyde, his expression asking if that was a reasonable request, then turned his gaze back to Margret.

[Clyde Herst]

Clyde did his best to keep his eyes on anything other than Diarmut and Margret. It was their trade to hash out, and it would do the boy no good for Clyde to get involved. Clyde couldn't resist sneaking a thumbs up after Diarmut finished laying out his side of the terms however. The boy caught on quick. Margret seemed pleased as well, "Well I do have an extra old pair of triangle scissors laying around here somewhere. I'm sure they'd do you some good long as you sharpen them. Of course I have spare thread and needles as well, though the spool of something sturdy might be a bit harder to replace. I have been getting a lot of requests as of late, and these old bones could use some assistance. If you help me finish my little project on the table and can procure some leather I would be glad to give you the things you've asked for." She gave Diarmut a reassuring smile before turning toward Clyde and making a shooing motion. Margret probably wanted to talk to Diarmut more about the project and the finer details one on one. There wasn't much for Clyde to do here anyway now that a deal was in the works and introductions given. "Aye aye, back to work with me," Clyde sighed as he moved to the door, "Let me know if you need anything else boy. I'll be down the road working on the livestock fence. You too Margret; I still remember how good you've been to me." With his farewell delivered Clyde strolled back to his original position.

As he was laying down back into the ridiculous position he had spent most of the day in, he realized he still didn't have his dulling companion. Yet, he didn't have a great desire to lumber back to his humble lodgings to retrieve the darn thing. The uncomfortable feeling he had been harboring all day had now mostly abated as well. An interesting turn of events indeed. Clyde quickly became lost in thought as he worked to finish his labor on the fence.