Clash of Dispositions

pandakatiefominz

pandakatiefominz

Wraith
The sun was sinking below the mountains to the west of Oderfeld, and all of the tall, colourful buildings were shaded in amber light. And the town was peaceful. And it was quiet. And mingled amongst the townsfolk, who were simply going about their lives, just as they always had, walked a stranger, cloaked in forest green. Travelers were not rare in Oderfeld, considering it lie just off the road to Hilontalis, the great city of the north, but they were not quite common, either. The mountains dissuaded many from visiting, afterall, road signs alone offered no proof to the weary warm beds and friendly folk would be waiting for them, should they stray from their path.

Yet a stranger did walk amongst them, and the silver clasp of her cloak betrayed her ilk: an upwards pointed pentagram with sunbeams to the right, and a crescent moon to the left. A ranger, and from whence she had come, none could say, not even those educated far beyond the mountain walls of the bright town. If rangers had a home, none had yet found it, and the rangers themselves would say naught of it.

And Rose Naurlireth, for that was her name, looked at no map. She stood in the square, with her head held high, and glanced at the buildings around her, heedless of anyone who stared. Slung over her shoulder like a back-woods hunter she carried her bow. On her back was a quiver of arrows and a small instrument, and on her hip was a short sword. She carried nothing else--at least, nothing which could be immediately seen.

She quickly and silently turned, and sprang up the steps to the nearest inn, The Spotted Mare, and stepped inside, "Mae Govannen," she said to the inn keeper, which meant 'well met' in the ancient elven language, and requested a room for the night. After paying, she took a seat near the fire, propped her bow against her seat, and settled in for the night.
 
Brant walked down the muddy path from his home that led to the main village. He felt the mud getting in between his toes and covering his feet. It was gross, but he was familiar with it. He was also familiar with the poverty and lack of nice things. He actually was currently using all his money to stay at an inn because his house apparently had a rat infestation. What do they care? The house had four walls and a roof so why would they care so much if he lived with rats? Plus they were at least company. He continued walking down the path watching the houses get nice and nicer. He continued walking but when he got closer and closer to the village he kept his head down. He couldn’t stand the looks people gave him.

He eventually got to the paved path that led through the village which was a little more comfortable than the mud, but it still wasn't pleasant. If only I had some shoes he thought as he continued looking down watching the stone bricks. He eventually got so deep into town he had to look up or else he would have bumped into someone. And when he did, he almost wished he hadn't. Everywhere he looked, someone was giving him a dirty look. So instead of paying attention to them, he let his eyes follow the tall colorful buildings that were lit up by the amber light.

He hurriedly tried getting to the Inn without anyone noticing. To do that he walked a little faster which caused him to trip over a rock and land with a loud thud. The element of being invisible completely shattered, everyone around him laughed and pointed but he quickly got up and walked away. He knew his palms and face were bleeding but he didn’t care he just wanted to flee the area as fast as he could. Ignoring the signs which were no help he pretty much ran to the nearest inn.

He stopped when he saw a sign that read The Spotted Mare and he quickly stepped inside. He probably looked repulsing with his muddy feet, torn up clothes, and bloodied face and palms but he didn't care. At least he was somewhere where he could hide for a few days then go back to his "home." He caught his breath then went up to the innkeeper and asked for a room. He quickly paid, grabbed his key, and rushed upstairs.
 
Last edited:
Most of the patrons of the inn were too focused on their own conversations and their own buisness to really notice anyone else who entered. At most they would glance up when the door opened. Out on the streets they may have been nosier, but within the walls and dim lights of the Spotted Mare, people were pulled inwards... unless, of course, your buisness was with others.

Rose noticed the thin man enter and speed to the bedrooms as quickly as he could manage, and when he passed by her, Rose noticed the scratches on his face. After he passed, she exhaled softly, slung her bow back over her shoulder, and followed him. When his door was about to close, she stepped into the room.

"If your goal is t'avoid being noticed," She said, a sly smile on her lips, "you may want t'consider walking with less haste, rather than more." Her hood was still pulled up, so half her face was cast in shadow. She might have knocked, but she doubted he would have let her in, and his suspicious behaviour had attracted her attention.
 
Brant walked up the wooden stairs trying to move faster. He just wanted to hide and be alone. He arrived where all the rooms were and walked until he found room 167. He put the little metal key into the door and twisted it until heard the door unlocking from the other side. He sighed, pushed the door open, and went to close it behind him, but he never heard the door click closed. He spun around to see why it didn’t close and saw a hooded figure standing in his doorway.

"If your goal is t'avoid being noticed, you may want t'consider walking with less haste, rather than more." she said when he turned around. He felt stunned by this person and their disregard for personal space. “I think I'm fine with what I'm doing, and I would appreciate it if you knocked before barging in.”

Scared, he stepped deeper into the dark room trying to think of a way to escape the situation. He went so deep in the room he was sure she couldn't see him anymore. He could feel the blood dripping down his face, but he continued to look for a way out. “What do you want from me,” he asked.
 
Last edited:
"The door was open," She said casually, and it was technically the truth. She didn't open the door, she only stopped it from closing before she had a chance to enter, "I don't mean t'scare you. And I don't want anything from you. It's just my buisness t'keep an eye on the happenings in this town, while I still reside here."

The stranger retreated into the shadows, and Rose thought he must not realize she was elvenkind, so she lowered her hood, so her full countenance could be seen. She then brought her right fist over her heart and nodded her head, greeting him properly after the manner of the rangers, "I am Rose Naurlireth, I come from south of here. I mean you no harm." She was, admittedly, attempting to gauge if this stranger was a risk. It wasn't related to the quest which brought her to Oderfeld, she wasn't seeking anyone in particular, but she had keen eyes and cared about more than what she was simply appointed to do. Suspicious individuals, in her experience, either had something to hide, or were hiding themselves, and great harm or mischief could arise from either of those situations.

Rose reached into her cloak, keeping her eyes on Brant. Her sword glinted in the fading light, but she did not reach for it. Instead, from a pocket in her cloak, she pulled out a small, leather pouch, "You should sit, I can't tell how bad your wound is from so far away. I have bandages, and some restorative herbs, if you'll allow me to aid you."
 
"The door was open," she said with what sounded like no emotion behind her voice. She seemed to get closer before talking again, "I don't mean t'scare you. And I don't want anything from you. It's just my business t'keep an eye on the happenings in this town, while I still reside here." even more scared he backed further away. This is exactly why he was moving with such haste, to avoid a situation like this.

She got another step closer before removing her hood that was keeping her face covered in shadows. He gasped when he saw she was a elve. He was in pure flight or fight mode and felt on the verge of panic. She did a weird salute where she put her fist over her heart and nodded, and it struck him, she was a ranger! He felt a little more comfortable but he still did not trust her, especially because she was a ranger. She pauses then started to talk again "I am Rose Naurlireth, I come from south of here. I mean you no harm." he just stared at her through the darkness, still scared to talk but loosened up a little.

He watched her grab into her clock and grab a small leather pouch. "You should sit, I can't tell how bad your wound is from so far away. I have bandages, and some restorative herbs, if you'll allow me to aid you." She tried. ¨Why in the hell would I trust you? A) you just barged into my room and B) I could tell by your salute that you're a ranger, for the last time what do you want from me? What did I do wrong? He replied filled with fear.
 
Last edited:
"I already said I don't want anything from you. My buisness here is unrelated." She spoke gently, and kept her hands away from her weapons. She moved no further into the room. She could tell he was frightened, which wasn't her intention, but humans always had been anxious. Honestly, she would have turned and left, if it were not for his wounds.

Remaining still in her spot, she continued speaking, the light of her eyes piercing through the shadows, almost like a deer's, "You only caught my attention, and when I noticed you were bleeding, I thought you might like some help. That is all. My kind are not police, and we are not bounty hunters, we do not make arrests, if that is your concern." That wasn't strictly true, but the only folk they really captured were the truly depraved: necromancers, death-cult leaders, vampire lords--the 'common criminal' was never a concern of theirs.
 
“If you don’t want anything to do with me then why are you talking to me? Why are you here if your business is unrelated? Can you please just leave, I don’t want your help.” The anxiety was leaving and irritation was rising. “I'm sure I can manage. I fell down. It's not like I got cut open. You can leave now.” He heard the aggression in his voice and felt bad, but he meant what he said.

He stayed rooted in his spot now blocked by the elve standing in the doorway. Her eyes were the only other light that was not coming from the hall. like an animal's eyes in the dead of night. "You only caught my attention, and when I noticed you were bleeding, I thought you might like some help. That is all. My kind are not police, and we are not bounty hunters, we do not make arrests if that is your concern." she responded in a calm and even tone. "Again I really don’t need your help. I appreciate your concern but I'm 25. I'm a grown adult. I think I can do stuff on my own. I have been ever since my parents left me. I have been raising myself since I was a kid so I'm pretty sure I can tend to some cuts on my own. And I never asked about your profession. I'm SO happy for you,” He said sarcastically, pissed she had to rub her fancy profession in his face.
 
"And I'm 436. It's young by the count of my people, many lifetimes by the count of yours. It might be, if we were of the same kind, we would be similar in age, but considering we aren't... I think my training in healing may be more developed than yours," Then she laughed the clear, sweet laugh of the elves, and said also, "but if you really don't want my help, I will go. Seek me out if you change your mind."

She turned to leave, but just before slipping back into the shadows, Rose faced the wounded stranger once more and said, "And, for what it's worth, I wouldn't call it a profession: I don't make a salary." With that, she returned to the common area of the inn, and retook her chair by the fire. She wasn't going to force an interaction with someone who did not wish to interact with her... yet. Her eyes flicked towards the hall. Considering his outburst, she didn't believe he was a danger, nor did she believe he was in danger, but she knew well she might still be deceived. It was quite a strong reaction, after all, and she wouldn't make up her mind on him until she had more information.
 
“And I'm 436. It's young by the count of my people, many lifetimes by the count of yours. It might be, if we were of the same kind, we would be similar in age, but considering we aren't... I think my training in healing may be more developed than yours," She responded, giving a clear and sweet laugh. "But if you really don't want my help, I will go. Seek me out if you change your mind." She said again.“Thanks, I'll let you know if I need your help. I appreciate you checking up on me” He said, as he watched her slip out of the room. He heard her light footsteps go down the hall and eventually fade out.

As soon as she left, he started pacing around his room, still not bothering to turn on the lights. He liked having company. Having someone who cared about him. He paced back and forth a couple more times then left the room and quietly closed the door behind him. He quietly went down the hall and back down to the lobby with his head lowered. He moved quickly and tried not to bump into anyone or anything and took a spot next to the elve whose name was apparently Rose. “Fine, you win. I want your help,” he said, his voice an almost inaudible whisper.
 
"You're less stubborn than I thought," She replied, lightly teasing him. She expected he would, at some point, come see her again, but she didn't anticipate it would be this quickly. She hopped to her feet and filled the pot near the fire place with water. She then sprinkled herbs from the satchel she carried into it, and put it over the flame.

Rose glanced at the man, "You should sit," she said, "your wounds don't seem as bad in this light, but I'd still like t'get a better look. And you haven't introduced yourself, yet." She flipped her cloak back over her shoulders, but did not remove it. She was dressed all in greens and browns, and wore very little armor. She had bracers to protect her bow arm, but she was more dressed for stealth than for battle. The fabric of the tunic she wore beneath her leather vest appeared as though it may have been fine, once, but now was tattered and stained.

Quickly, their section of the inn was full of a rich, earthy aroma, which seemed to uplift the spirits.
 
"You're less stubborn than I thought,” She went on with a slightly teasing voice. He knew teasing would come for caving so fast. He wanted to show her his independence, but he was sick of being lonely. He liked her persona and liked how she treated him even though they just met. And he wanted to be around her. And if that meant getting teased sometimes then so be it. She took a pot and filled it near the fireplace and put some herbs into it that he couldn't name and put it over the fire.

She glanced over at him "You should sit," she said "your wounds don't seem as bad in this light, but I'd still like t'get a better look. And you haven't introduced yourself, yet. He uncomfortably shifted his position in the chair so his lighting was better. He could almost feel the whole Inn looking at his ugly, thin, bloody face. In a still whisper, he introduced himself. ¨My name is Brant.” He watched Rose fidget with her fancy-looking gear. She had what seemed like army gear under her cloak. That thought made his posture stiffen.

He could also smell the aromas coming from the pot, and It made the place feel warm and comforting even though the mood was the opposite.
 
"Well met, Brant," She said. She knelt before him and gently took his face in her hands so she could examine the wounds, and after looking for a few moments, she stood and removed the pot from the fire. From another hidden pocket, she pulled out a small, well-worn but clean rag, and put it into the warm water. She then began to gently dab at the wound on Brant's forehead. It did not sting, but would have felt far-reaching.

"The herbs would be stronger were they fresh, but it has been many months since I last tread in the forests surrounding Imladris, and that is the only place they grow east of the sea." She hummed for a moment, and sitting back said, "of course, there are plenty of other herbs which have similar properties, but most can't be found within cities these days, because people think they're weeds. If you want t'ind anything restorative, you have t'go int'the wild." Well, or you could buy it from an alchemist, but again, being a ranger paid no salary.

After washing the wound on his head, she washed the cuts on his hands, and then gently bandaged everything.

"There," she said, and pulled up a seat beside him. She rubbed her hands over her face, and stretched out her legs. She was almost always on the road heading to some new place, and this was the first time in about a month she actually had a seat inside a place. Not that she minded, she felt like she belonged to the wilderness, but it was nice to put it aside for awhile. And she had a job to do, "Not so bad, right?"
 
"Well met, Brant," she replied as she held his face in her warm calloused hands. The intention of the gesture was to be helpful, but it felt gentle and loving. She studied his face for a few moments then pulled the pot off the fire and grabbed a rag out of a pocket he had no idea existed. It had a used but clean look to it and she gently dabbed his face removing the blood and grime.

He zoned and was no longer listening when the girl was tending to his cuts and talking about how the herbs are better when they're fresh. And how there are similar herbs that people apparently pull because people think they're weeds. But he only heard parts of what she was saying. He was focusing on getting this over with as soon as possible. He appreciated her help but he was not planning on this being a full-time thing, and he desperately wanted to leave. But he nodded and smiled to show he was ¨listening¨

After a few moments, she started dabbing his hands and cleaning the cut washing the blood off his hands. She then bandaged everything and as soon as she finished he felt a hundred times better.

"There" she said as she pulled up a chair and sat down next to him stretching out her feet and rubbing her face. "Not so bad, right?" she said. Something about the comment rubbed him the wrong way and he snapped at her. ¨What do you mean nice? The reason I'm here is my house in the slums has a rat infestation. And I have to use the small amount of money I HAD to stay here. So yeah, I guess if having both your parents die and being homeless is nice then yes, this is very nice.¨ He said in a raised tone which raised some eyes and he immediately looked down feeling ashamed. He was being rude to the only person who gave a damn about him.
 
Last edited:
Rose looked at him with the blank expression of someone who had been yelled at many times in her life, and flatly said, "You are not the only one who has suffered in your life." Then she turned back to the fire, and said no more. She was willing to lend aid to others, but would not take unneeded abuse. More than that, she would not extend pity to someone who, in her estimation, would rather continue to suffer and garner looks than make a meaningful change in his life. She felt empathy for the man, and sympathy for the boy he had been, but if this is how he responded to those who only wanted to help him, she couldn't help but wonder how he treated others in his life. And he could very well not even be aware he was doing it.

She said nothing else. She wasn't even angry, not really. But she wasn't going to engage with someone who only desired to yell at her. If he wanted so badly to be treated like a person, like someone with thoughts and feelings and not someone who could be trampled over, he would do well to give others the same courtesy. Rose supposed, if anything, she was sad for him, but even that felt like a stretch, because even feeling sad required a level of emotional labor she didn't feel obligated to suffer for the sake of his ego.

She didn't even say it was nice.
 
She looked at him with a completely blank expression. An expression of hurt and unsurprise. Her face said this was not the first time someone has yelled at her. "You are not the only one who has suffered in your life." Her response was blank and emotionless which caused his anxiety to rise. He waited for something else, but she merely looked into the fire with a mundane expression on her face. He was confused as to why she was acting like this. Yes everyone has their struggles but what was so difficult in her life? She had a stable job and had enough money to be fed and provide shelter for herself. She was taking her anger out on him and it was unfair. He wasn't going to stick around with someone who couldn't understand why he was upset because she was too blinded by her fortune.

He wanted to move on. Get away from this arrogant girl. Just because she's a fancy ranger, doesn't mean he deserved this. He stood up from his chair and in a sickly sweet voice, he said ¨I appreciate everything you have done but I'm tired. Maybe we could eat breakfast together before I have to go back home?¨ He didn't fully mean it but he didn't want to risk triggering the girl more than he already had. He hovered over the girl patiently waiting for a response or acknowledgment.

He just wanted to be alone again.
 
"Do as you will." She said, but then she turned from the fire and looked up at him, "but I will not suffer abuse at the hands or words of men. I deserve to be treated with basic decency as much you do. If you truly are an adult, as you claim, I would recommend you put some time into learning how to not yell at others when they did no harm to you."

She did not specify if by 'men' she meant the race or the gender, but the elven light in her eyes burned more like a fire as she looked at Brant, now. Rose was not hurt, and it wasn't even like she was angry: she was simply not one to be trifled with, and not one to be walked on. She lived in the wild, she slept on the ground with only her cloak as a blanket, and faced heat and frost and storms. She ate only what she could hunt or gather and when she bathed it was in streams or clear, long-forgotten pools hidden deep in the oldest forests. She walked until her shoes fell away and had seen other members in her order fall, bereft of life. These she had to bury, burn, or cast down the river before continuing on her long road. Rose did not take being snapped at lightly, and respected herself enough to not feel obligated to stifle her own responses so someone could be 'comfortable.'

"If you do expect to meet me," She concluded, "I eat breakfast at dawn, and leave as soon as I have finished."
 
He honestly had no idea what went on inside her brain. The fact that she brought gender into this felt stupid and irrelevant. She was failing to see that she's on the top, and he's on the bottom. She was completely unaware of anyone but herself and her fortune. Her arrogance was bigger than anyone he had ever met.

Her arrogance and horrible attitude made him want to move faster. Her mindset was so negative and self-absorbed. He didn't hate her. He just hated her ideas and beliefs. And hated her views on life. She concluded her statement explaining how she wasn't going to allow men to step all over her then followed it up with "If you do expect to meet me, I eat breakfast at dawn and leave as soon as I have finished." After she had finished talking, he promptly thanked her for everything and told her he would possibly eat breakfast with her tomorrow. He then walked back down the hall and back up the stairs. Once again trying to cover his face and be as quiet as possible.

Once he got back to his room he laid in the soft bed letting the comfortable sheets cover his entire body. It was the most comfortable he'd been in a while. And his wounds already felt better and we're starting to heal. Part of him wanted to go with the girl because something seems welcoming behind her cold demeanor. The other part of him said the whole idea sounded bad and would crop up trouble. He had to decide what he wanted to do before tomorrow. He had to decide if he wanted to be with her or not. His eyes got heavy and he looked around the dark wooden room one last time before his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.
 
Last edited:
After Brant had left, Rose lifted the small harp she carried, and played a mournful elven song upon it. It had once been a glad song, written when Elvendom was it its height, and crystal spires caught the light of the setting sun and the world was in its spring. But the towers had been torn down, and the lights in the trees had gone out. The elves had scattered, and their numbers had dwindled. Some towns were still elven-majority, but they were scarce, and none were so far north. Even their language had been mostly lost, and she had met many elves in her travels who couldn't speak a word.

Now her song captured only fading memories, but she sung it nonetheless. When the night wore on, she lifted her things, and slipped quietly into her room, opened the windows to gaze at the stars, and then slipped into a light, tenuous sleep. Before the first rays of the sun peeked over the mountains of Oderfeld, Rose was already dressed and prepared for another long day. She was sitting in the same seat before the cold ashes of the fireplace, sipping from her waterskin. She was curious to see if the human from the night before would see her, but she was more focused on the task at hand. Cathedrals were always a good place to begin, if you were hunting an artifact, and she knew it would be no great undertaking to find. Oderfeld's. She stretched, even though before leaving her room, she had already gone through all of her regular stretches, and then sighed heavily while she dug through her pockets for her breakfast.
 
He woke up in the soft bed with the comfortable sheets covering him witched caused confusion until he looked up and saw the wooden room and felt reorientated. And the memories of yesterday were already starting to flood back into his head. He rolled out of bed not having to worry about changing because he slept in his clothes and quietly slipped out. He did the best he could to sneak down the hall and back downstairs without anyone noticing him. Moments before he had fallen asleep he had decided there's no harm in talking to the woman one more time. What was she going to do? Bring him on a quest? Plus he wanted to warm up next to the fire.

He made it all the way downstairs and hurried over to where the woman sat. He took the spot where he was yesterday and sadly looked at the fireplace seeing nothing but ashes and burned-up logs. He quietly looked at the woman expecting her to say something, but only got silence. He watched as she took her breakfast out of her pocket. He was not one to make conversation and almost always waited until the other person made a move before he talked. So instead, he rummaged around in his pants until he found stale bread and a moldy piece of cheese. He quietly took nibbles of it trying to enjoy the very small portion of food he had. Plus to get half a loaf of stale bread from the baker meant a week's worth of work in the field. And to get a wedge of cheese was 5 days of work. He had to savor the food as he might not eat for a couple more weeks.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top