(1865-11-19) Comfort in the Cold
Comfort in the Cold
Summary: Nadine and her brother Pepin are joined by Michael, Artos and Tereza in the Moldy Mug. Talk of weddings and winter preparation ensues.
Date: 1865-11-19
Related: None
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Nadine  Michael  Tereza  Artos  

Moldy Mug Inn, Mastings, Aequor
The Moldy Mug is the heart of the village's social life, and now that the army has arrived it has become the heart of their social life as well. There is barely a time of day or night when the Moldy Mug's tables aren't full up and with yet more patrons standing while they drink. Nobles of course can find a seat, as can common born officers of the legion, but all others must fend for themselves where finding a table and a bite to eat are concerned.
The warmth of the Mug's hearth is available for all, often accompanied with the savoury smells of whatever is roasting on the spit or whatever is being prepared in the kitchen beyond the bar. Drink is plentiful with ale and beer available as are some local drinks such as a strong sweet wine made from currents and a clear distilled drink that is stronger still. In addition to the drinks a few whores of questionable appearance and health mingle with the patrons with dubious pleasures on offer.
The Mug is raucous but a tavern keeper keeps a keen eye out for trouble and the Prince's guards are close by in in the command center should things get out of hand.
Novembre 19th 1865

A pair of dirty-blonde haired d'Cadri (made evident from the matching black doublets with silver trim and embroidered white wings on the back) are sitting at a table in the Moldy Mug. The heir to d'Cadri, Sir Pepin, who had earned his spurs only a handful of weeks prior, and his older sister Sir Nadine the Snowshield, are the embodiment of the mood in the camps of late: solemn, almost grim.

Both are sipping from jacks of ale, though neither show any signs of intoxication. Likely this is their first drink of the night, and, from the reputation of the d'Cadri, also likely their only drink of the night.

A vicious pink and red scar of a recently healed wound is visible across Sir Nadine's neck on the right side, dangerously close to her carteroid artery. Her brother looks to be in better condition, though his eyes flit about the common area as if expecting Icenalians to burst in the door any moment.

Outside snow falls at a steady clip, the white powder already piling up outside the buildings and on rooftops, though the heat of the bodies in the tavern and the crackling fires in the two hearths keep the cold at bay inside.

Michael was making his final rounds of the camp before he settled in for the night and on the morrow rode south to Murnord and marriage. So, naturally his steps take him to the inn. Shaking off the snow on his cloak as he passes through the door, he surveys the grim room and shakes his head. What timing! To need to leave the camp when the men needed the most cheer. He steps fully inside and makes his way to the bar, fiddling with the strings of his purse, grabbing a fist full of coins he lays them on the table and declares "Everyone here drinks on my coin today!" loudly enough so that he can be heard through the room. Then turning to the room itself he says "May the One grant us victory!"

Somewhere in a corner sits Tereza, hands folded before her on the table, her dress a dark green and of practical cut, nothing fancy. As fancy and Tereza are seldom mentioned in the same sentence. Those brown eyes with a tinge of olive green are lowered for now, her gaze directed towards a book laid out before her on the table. Her legs crossed casually, the skirts drifted apart at her front to reveal a pair of trousers. Her brown curls are worn in a thick braid. If she takes note of others in the common room it does not show. That is until the door is opened, and a man enters, bringing a gust of a chilly wind with him. The announcement has Tereza's brows shift upwards ever so slightly, a light shake of her head the reaction to his final remark - in some manner. With her being distracted already she will take the opportunity and look over to where Nadine and her brother are seated, a quick glance really that assesses the scar - from a theoretical point of view, gauging the treatment, the stitches that had been applied. Seeing no infection or redness there, the D'Acuto lady will lower her gaze, as her skills are for now not really required.

Arriving in the tavern is a figure wearing a cloak made of a bear's skin over his shoulders. Artos is still in his usual stern moon, but the tavern had real warmth, something alien to the rest of the camp. He is somewhat surprised to see the exitement across the room until he learns that the drinks were already paid for. While Artos is not exactly known for having fun, he is not one to pass up a free drink if it's offered. Once he has it he raises it to the al'Callenta heir, "My lord," he says with a nod and then another to the other commander in the room, Nadine, "Sir," Then the baron notices his daughter and approaches her table, "Tereza!"

As likely expected, both Sir Nadine and Sir Pepin nod in acknowledgment of Lord Michael's offer, though they wave off the second drink.

Stuffy d'Cadri.

There's a moment where the sister nudges her brother with her elbow, and he looks confused for a second before understanding flashes across his youthful face, and he rises, gesturing to the open chairs at their table. "Lord Michael, Baron Artos…" he pauses, looking to Tereza, and just decides to go with a general, "Uh, my lady, would you care to… uh, join us?"

Nadine nods slightly. Though equally as formal and stuff as her brother, she does seem to be more comfortable in the presence of others. But it is Pepin who will one day be Count d'Cadri, and she's not above forcing him to exercise his social muscles from time to time.

Michael seems pleased when his drinks are accepted and there is some lightening of the mood in the room. He wraps an arm around the shoulders of the barkeep instructing "Should that not be enough send to my man Woodley this evening, he'll see the matter settled." He turns from the barkeep to smile at Lord Pepin and bow "Gladly," he responds before clapping the young heir of the d'Cadri on the shoulder. "By-the-by, congratulations on your knighthood. Welcome to our honourable fellowship, sir," he wishes earnestly before bowing to both the baron and his daughter. "Indeed, Baron, my lady join us," he says taking a seat and nodding greeting to Nadine.

Again. Another distraction follows and draws Tereza's attention from her book, although that slightly irritated glare is swiftly replaced with - a smile? It as a moderate version, really, but it is there, along with a proud flicker in her gaze when she watches her father greet the nobles present. When he approaches she rises, closing the book indeed and steps towards Artos. "Father. You look surprised to see me here?"

The D'Cadri lord's greeting is met with a nod, his question left unanswered for a moment. Tereza is all politeness, yet emotion is scarcely to be observed in the way she carries herself. "I am already standing, a clear sign I mean to give up my place at this table," she remarks. "So yes. Why not?" Maybe the al'Callenta's encouragement has had its share in persuading her, but most probably it is the fact that her father will most certainly accept the invitation - and she will not stay away in that case.

Artos nods to Nadine, "Gladly," and before he can say much else his daughter also accepted the invitation. "I am simply pleased to see you." A rare smile on the baron's face. "Though what book do you have there?" he asks as he walks towards the d'Cadri table, and upon arrival takes a seat at the table, and greets each by title, "My lords, my lady." A sip of ale follows, "A good night, it seems. Impossible to have too many of those."

Pepin cracks a rare smile at Michael's congratulations for a brief moment before his face is back to the solemn expression. "My thanks, Lord Michael. And I congratulate you on your upcoming wedding." His cheeks darken a bit when he mentions that, but then again…

"Our Father mentioned in his most recent letter than it is likely that you will be brothers in marriage after other considerations have been seen to," Nadine states, her tone giving little to no inflection, though it seems she may be explaining her brother's blush. The battle-scarred young veteran of the north sips from her mug, giving both the d'Acuto a polite nod of greeting. "Baron, my lady."

Once everyone is settled back down in seats at the table, drinks are filled or refilled as needed, Nadine lifts her hand and requests a midday meal to be brought to the table for them all. After the servingman bustles off to do so, she regards her brother with a prodding look.

The younger d'Cadri takes a swallow of his ale, though he doesn't speak yet. Both d'Cadri look as if their emotions may have been carved of stone.

Pepin's smile only makes Michael smile all the more. "Thank you, sir," he says of the congratulations. "I only wish the timing was better, there is much to be done here still, but such is the way of things," Michael reasons before Nadine gives the news and he adds "As you will likely find out for yourself," he says warmly to the d'Cadri heir. "I shall light a candle that the contract is signed and sealed soon, so I many sooner call you brother," he grins. Then looking up at the baron and his daughter Michael nods "Well said, Baron, indeed it is impossible as it would be impossible to not have such a day in this company."

When the drinks are filled and the meal is orderd Michael nods to Nadine. "Thank you," he says. "I trust you're healing well?" he asks with a nod to the scar on her neck.

"As am I," Tereza murmurs to her father, in response to his admission about being glad to see her. The question about the book has her lips curl a little, as she shares her father's passion for books. "It is an entertaining work, mingling truth with fiction. An imaginary traveller's account of his voyages of the Northern Wastes," the lady says with an almost apologetic look in her eyes. "It was all I could get hold of. I've borrowed it from someone at the camp." A studious person, obviously. Yet that will be all she will say about that for now, not forgetting to grab the book before she walks over. She sits down at the table, picking a seat beside her father. Her eyes study the faces of those present, staying silent on the talks of betrothals and marriages.
The topic of teh book causes Artos to barely frown, holding back his concern on the topic. "Then I believe congratulations are in order," Artos says with a blink "And which sister will he be marrying? A fine, and fitting match, sir." He relaxes his posture a little. "Oh, forgive me my rudeness. This is my daughter, Tereza." The d'Acuto baron takes another sip of his cup. "Are you ready for your wedding, sir?" he asks Michael.

"Lady Reliant Anelie," Nadine responds with a solemn nod. "The One is good, that my brother is blessed so with an offer for such a pious and strong wife."

Pepin takes a drink, hoping his mug hides the bulk of his blush.

"My neck is healed. The One is also good in that the heathen missed what he aimed for. His axe was guided away from spilling my life, for which I have lit many candles in praise and thanks of the One's mercy and might." She smiles, though it is slight and somehow still serious. "I have also lit candles in thankfulness that Sir Elrick, Sir Gabriel, and Sir Ramius have all recovered from their wounds."

Pepin nods, murmuring a short prayer under his breath as though by rote. "The One shelter all those who serve Him beneath His wings, and shield them from harm even as they serve to shield others from the darkness."

Nadine bows her head slightly as her brother murmurs his prayer, and after takes another sip of her ale.

When the prayer is offered, Michael bows his head. He raises it again when it's done and offers a pious "May the One see it so," before he says "Yes, I am glad they've all survived by the One's grace, and will have a part in the coming battles." The mention of being ready for his wedding earns a smile and he turns from the more serious topics of wounds and the one to answer "Is one ever ready, my lord Baron?" he asks. "Though I hope I am," he looks around the table "I trust you all will be able to attend, if it seems otherwise, speak now and I can see what can be done to make it so."

Her father's reaction, however minimalistic it may be, tempts Tereza to add something. "In fact… it is completely fictional, the story's structure more like a fairy tale, father." A light rolling of her eyes indicating just how desperate to find a new book to read she had been. But then the talk turns once again to matches and the D'Acuto falls silent, a faint smile curling her lips. "Congratulations," she murmurs, fulfilling the demands of courtesy without really engaging into smalltalk. A polite incline of the head coming after her father introduces her. "In fact some of you may know me already." When Nadine speaks, Tereza's head turns, her gaze lingering once again curiously on that scar as she can study it from closer proximity here. "It looks good," she comments. "It may still bother you some, but it seems to have been nicely treated, Sir Nadine. Most skillfully, from what I can tell." She falls silent and lowers her gaze when Pepin says his prayer, as her hands fold once again in her lap. "Of course," is murmured next, in response to Michael's invitation, when Tereza's gaze shifts from the al'Callenta to her father, raising a brow in a silent question.

Artos bows his head for the prayer. When the heir to Murnord speaks, he replies, "No, though yours will have a different tone to it than mine." He frowns a little and then returns to a boring neutrality. "I shall attend, should health permit." The baron then looks to Nadine, "Ah, yes. I met her a few years ago, she was one of us at Benide." He nods and says to his daughter, "I see." He gives a small smile, "Hopefully it is a good book, perhaps we will need to acquire a copy of it."

"We will be attending," Pepin says with a brief, solemn nod. "Though my sister will only make it to Murnord for the wedding itself; she has duties that will keep her here on the lines until the wedding."

He looks to her. "I should be going with her," he states, and there's an undertone of this being an arguement that has been had many times between them.

"No," Nadine says simply, with the tone of command. He may be the heir to their house, but she is one of the commanders of the military forces here, and outranks him. Pepin looks as if he may press his argument for a moment, but then sighs, and nods.

Though Nadine had led the charge in the last major battle, her brother had been in the reserves. Obviously, this chafes him.

Michael nods "Good to hear it," he says at the affirmative replies to his question and then nodding to Tereza he says "And my thanks my lady," he says before he ventures "What book is this now?" he asks even though the odds of him knowing it are slim. Some people may read for fun, but he is not among them.

The dispute between the d'Cadri goes unremarked upon, though he does offer a sympathetic glance to Pepin. "If you will be with us, then we'll go hunting," he offers the young heir.

"I am not exactly sure yet it is a good book, father," Tereza admits to Artos. "I've not gotten beyond the first pages so far. So… I will tell you my verdict later." Michael's inquiry seems to take the D'Acuto lady by surprise, as he has her fullest attention now. "It is called 'The Marvelous Travels Through the Wondrous North' by Airgyth the Wanderer. A fake name - and little in it is based on facts, so I was told." The exchange between the D'Cadri siblings is certainly not commented on, but neither is there any sign of being troubled by it at all. Tereza knows of the necessary quarrels, she has had her own share of them, being one of four siblings. One of them her twin sister.

Tereza leans back in her chair when the door suddenly opens again, and a servant stumbles in, his eyes soon finding the D'Acuto lady, and he approaches to whisper a message into her ear. Brows go up, and then she nods. "I will be there in a minute… If you will excuse me…? I'm called back to my duties. A pleasant day to you all. Sirs. My lord. Father." Tereza curtseys, it is a rather efficient version of a curtsey, before she grabs her cloak and moves off, the book under her arm and the servant in tow.

Artos listens to the title of the book and a brow inches up. "Interesting, interesting." He nods, "I understand, duty is why we are all here." He gives her a smile and sips his ale again. He then turns to Michael, "A hunt would be a suitable way to celebrate your upcoming wedding. Just try to be careful, enough nasy things in the forest as it is." The baron says as he sets his cup down. "It will certainly be a happy occasion, though I am curious to see how the prince will handle this weather."

Nadine lifts a brow. "The weather is what it is. Snow and ice is the way of things," Snowshield comments dryly. "I am more concerned with how these southern men and women on the lines will handle it. We'll likely have them losing noses, ears, and toes to frostnip if they are not careful and keep themselves wrapped properly."

This coming from a woman who had been known to occasionally be seen outside her tents in the snow with bare arms.

"Still. I do not sense a blizzard in the winds yet. But there will be. There always is at least one in the winters, if not many. I have already begun to instruct those who show themselves unaware of how to handle themselves in snow how to prepare."

Michael rises as Tereza departs, bowing, then sitting again, he smiles at Artos "Well if we encounter barbarians while we hunt at Murnord then I name it a blessing. After all, we would do the realm a better good by slaying them than any bear or boar," he says before lifting his cup to his lips. "Hmm, fair point about the weather, though I hear the Prince is a clever man, and will likely come prepared. And if not Murnord has furs and wool to spare for our royal guests. Though these southerners in the army," he frowns a little at that. "We should see them provided for. We've work enough ahead without losing men to frostnip. Sir Nadine, since you're like to be filling my role while I am south, will you look into the matter and send word of what they have neglected to bring, best to lay in those supplies before a storm comes."

"I would like to think my men came prepared, but I will see to it that they are ready for it. Winter is more brutal of an enemy than that icy vitch," Artos says "There is a reason I brought this," he gestures to the bear skin around his shoulders. "But I will see if more firewood can be procured." He looks to Michael "If they have gotten so far south, then something horrible has happened, though you should still be wary."

Pepin simply listens quietly. When Nadine is requested to look into preparations for winter's icy bite by the duke's heir, she nods. "Of course, Lord Michael," she bows her head slightly. "I will see it done."

"Well I would expect the Baron of Garfana to be equally prepared as the Prince, both of you being men of learning," Michael remarks to Artos, giving an approving nod at the bear skin cloak. "If you will be remaining awhile yet Baron, then I'd ask you to arrange the gathering of the wood, see to it the woodcutting parties are well guarded, I'll not have men lost to the enemy over kindling." To Nadine he nods "Thank you," he says. "I hope I will be able to return to the lines soon, but it is good to know the army will be in good hands with yourself, and the others who are staying behind."

"I have no intention of leaving immediately, though I will try to make it to the wedding," Artos nods, "But firewood can be procured, at the very least dung would work should we be that far behind." He shrugs, "But we shall see. At the very least, places like this," he gestures to the tavern, "can provide at least some comfort. But we can begin storing dung from the horses and cattle."

Nadine nods, rising. "Speaking of such, I should return to the tents. My lord. Baron."

Pepin rises right behind her. "I will come as well." For a moment, it looks as if Nadine may agrue with him, but she simply nods again in acquiesence. Pepin bows slightly to the other men, and the two blonde-headed and solemn knights depart the tavern to return to their duties.

Michael nods to Artos. "Let us hope it does not come to dung, but better to be prepared for it all the same. And of course, whenever you wish to come to Murnord you will be welcome, just see that one of your men attends to the wood and," a face, "Dung." Soldier or no, he was brought up in the royal court.

When the two blonde haired knights depart, Michael rises and bid them good-day before he settles back into his seat remarking thoughtfully to the baron "Poor Pepin. I should see about making him one of my battle companions and get him out from under the eye of his sister for a time. After all he will be one of my counts and I would see him leave his swaddling clothes behind ere he comes into his patrimony."
"Farewell, sirs," Artos says to the departing d'Cadris. A grin comes to the baron's face, "It burns fine. One of the things you learn in such campaigns are the little tricks that can save your life, if you are willing to sacrifice only a little pride." He nods and says, "In time, though with this calm there are few opportunities for one to prove himself, especially with such a host out there."

Michael nods and sips his wine. "Oh I know it's useful, but perhaps I have too much pride," he shakes his head and nods. "True, this damn stalemate makes it hard for anything to get done, but until they make a mistake there is very little we can do but wait," he takes a drink of his wine then ruminating over the stalemate and the state of the war. He sets down his cup. "Feel up to braving the cold, baron?" he asks. "I feel a need to walk the lines and see the state of things one more time, I could use some experienced eyes to find what I might miss."

"Trust me, the cold helps you get over it really quickly!" The baron jokes, a rare one, but it's there. He finishes his cup and says, "A walk certainly would not be unwelcome. Besides, it would do some good outside of simply waiting." Artos rises from his seat, and makes sure his fur is well situated. "It's the little things, but let's see what we can find."

A smile is offered for the joke. "Ha. True enough, come the blizzard any heat will be welcome, no matter the source," Michael rises from his seat adjusting his own fur-lined cloak, and how it lays over his armour. Then he nods "What ver can be found will help. Come then, let us go see and then I must be ready for sleep and travel."

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