The Shackles of Shy-Helm (Rain of the Night x Librarian)

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Rain of the Night

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"Sir Elrik Lafleur!" A man on a horse was galloping within the confines of Baron Dumontet's castle. The vestments of the young man would clearly define him as being a messenger from another part of this kingdom. He seemed to have an urgent message to share with him, which wasn't a rare sight, given the battles still happening north of this barony.

Elrik had been getting his mount ready for travel; he had heard news of his brother finally returning from the mage academy. He would arrive in a nearby town soon, so he wished to meet him there, even set up a banquet for his arrival. However, there seemed to be a change of plans, if the messenger was bringing forth a message of such urgency. He let the stable boys get his horse ready as he walked forth towards the galloping horse. "It is I. What seems to be the urgency of your presence, young man?" The knight had already donned his armor. "Speak quickly."

The young boy stopped the horse and jumped off bowing to the knight in question. "Sir! I send message of Sir Hartfield." The name immediately struck the knight as he remembered fighting with him up north, defending the borders. It had been a little while since he had seen him. Elrik's eyes opened in surprise, asking the boy to stand straight. As asked, he did so, reaching for the parchment on his belt and handed it over to Elrik.

"You are dismissed." Elrik said, letting the young boy return to his duties. The knight broke the seal to give it a thorough reading. This wasn't written in Sir Hartfield's hand, but that of a scribe; clean and professional. He took his time getting through this... And he found it quite odd. IT spoke about injuries at first. It was sad to hear he had taken such a beating. However, it was the request within this parchment that was the oddest; to take her daughter in to become a knight, just like he and his son. This was very short notice... There was much to be done! Yet, this was the wish of an incapacitated knight who wanted his legacy to go on. And the worse part, she is supposed to arrive this day... Seems the messenger wasn't quite as fast as he needed to be.

"...Stable boy." Elrik said as he began walking back. "Prepare a second horse." He'd have to figure out what to do with her... He didn't even know if she was fit for this role, but he would have to discover it while on their journey.

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Finally, he had arrived in the town of Llyne. Vesid had wandered away from the Order the last few weeks, hoping to escape part of his burden as a trainer for the new recruits. Yes, he enjoyed it, but he had taken such time out of his life to be an integral part of the Order that he had forgotten the lighter things in life. And so, he had decided to come see an old friend; a healer woman who had treated his wounds many times before... The older gentlemen heard she had taken permanent residence within this town. If he was lucky enough, these rumors would be true. If not, he'd have to continue searching.

It took nearly minutes to get the answer; asking a few locals revealed that she was indeed here, in her own little home. The man thanked the stranger for his aid and went forth to the said building... And as customs dictates;, he came to the front door an knocked, hoping the information was true.

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The smashing of a window could be heard within the estate of the Lord who owned the town of Llyne. I sounded like something went through the glass and just shattered from the outside in. The first one who would be present would see that one of the hallway windows was broken on the second floor; with obvious footsteps disappearing into god knows where. This would have the guards warned of an unwanted presence, which had them on high alert and searching the grounds immediately. This would cause most activities within the estate to be delayed or stopped completely until it was deemed secure enough.

Within one of the rooms in the servant's quarters, a man in a dark cloak was leaning against the wall, definitely not belonging where he was; it was the room of a woman which this hooded man knew not of. In fact, he predicted whoever it was would be coming back to refuge... And he might have to do something that he doesn't necessarily want to do, but will have to. He would wait until whoever lived in these quarters would return, and then he might strike.

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"Yes, ladies, one at a time." There he went again, talking of the stories of his latest steals on a rich noble. There was a lot of fluff and exaggerations, telling stories of how he vaulted across twenty feet of nothing under his feet, to snatching the purse without even being caught by the man... And, of course, how he saved a woman from death in the heads of a corrupted guard. This was a typical night for the charming Modakra. He did all he could to attract the attention of the prostitutes, then choosing and paying for whatever suits his tastes that night. Oddly enough, none of the beautiful elven ladies would even approach him, for reason even Modakra knew little of.

The man was paying drinks all around for those he wished, letting them drink to their desires. It was to say; gold was not what he lacked. What he did lack was proper etiquettes, which he didn't seem to be much of a fan of, especially since he was admittedly, a very lewd individual. No shame, no dignity, and yet, he seemed to be appreciated by most that were a lot more loose in their lifestyles... Probably why the elven prostitutes were always walking away from him.
 
It wasn't long before Elinor's family knew she was not like the other little girls running around their small village they had called home. She had grown up watching her father teach her brother the ways of the sword and clung to every word that was spoke regardless of her mother's utter dismay in all of it. El liked to wear trousers and have her hair shorter and tied back to keep it out of her face instead of the long, pretty blonde ringlets she was born with. Thankfully, Sir Hartfield hadn't blanched at the fact that his daughter was so interested in the use of such a weapon. The man began to train her over the years alongside her brother and both became very skilled swordsman.

The day came that her brother and father were shipped off to fight. Elinor was now a young woman, still with the short tied back blonde hair and the trousers her brother had handed down. Instead of learning from the two most important men in her life she was now learning from a neighbor, an ex-knight who had seen a lot and never faltered to tell Elinor about it.

Now, well, now the young woman was on her way to meet Sir Elrik LaFleur. They were due any minute according to her escort. Elinor's stomach turned in rapid circles. What if he did not like her? What if he scoffed? Men had scoffed at her most of her life and this would be no different. She would just have to prove herself.

"Here we are, m'lady." The wagon came to a stop and Elinor was helped out onto the ground, a pack on her back and her old sword at her hip. "Sir Lafleur?" The escort asked around until he was pointed in the direction of the knight. Elinor approached slowly and when the man finally met her eyes she took in a deep breath and stuck out a hand. "My father would like to thank you, Sir Elrik Lafluer... For taking me in during this time. My name is Elinor Hartfield, daughter of Sir Charles Hartfield. I would like to make my father and brother proud." She spoke and hoped it was alright, her heart seeming to beat about a million miles per hour as she waited for a hopefully positive reply.

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A smile child sat in the kitchen of the healer with her mother, hands folded in her lap as she looked around at the jars that lined almost a whole wall of shelves. Within these jars were the herbs and mixtures that the healer used on her many patients she tended to throughout the week in her home in Llyne. The small child had a loose tooth that had been bugging her for some time now. Although it wasn't cause for alarm the child had insisted on seeing the healer and both mother and Cassadia did their best to keep their grins hidden, not wanting to make fun of the little girl for something as trivial as losing her first tooth.

Cassadia returned to the kitchen with a red fruit in hand. "Alright my dear. Eat this apple. Be sure to pay extra attention to it after each bite just in case there may be something stuck in the peel." Cassadia explained, handing the apple to the mother. The mother finally let out a small smile and looked to her daughter. The younger girl smiled. "This should help, Miss Munroe?" Cassadia nodded her head. "Yes little one. It has helped countless children lose their teeth. Just be careful not to swallow it." The little girl gave Cassadia a hug before gripping her mother's hand and tugging her out the door. It made her smile to watch them go. Cassadia stood from her chair and stretched, she wasn't getting any younger and these wooden seats were not so kind in her older age. Just as she was about to start organizing a new batch of herbs from her garden she heard a knock at the door. It was not uncommon but the person behind the wooden frame was.

"Vesid? Hello! How have you been? Please do come in!" The woman stepped aside, beaming at the man who was joining her in her home. It had been a long time since they had last spoken and she could barely believe he was there with her now. "Are you thirsty? Hungry? Have you traveled for? Please excuse all of my questions I am just so surprised to see you."
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"Venna, back to your room now. There has been a break in." A butler murmured to the dark haired girl as he passed her in the hall. "But I have the Lord's wash-" The butler cut her off and shook his head. "Take it. You can bring it back later. By the sounds of it this is bad, very bad." He took off down the opposite way, telling the others who were still working to seek shelter while the guards searched. With a short grumble Venna made her way up a staircase nearby, lugging the basket she was carrying as she went before kicking her door open and slipping inside.

It was rather dark in her room because the curtains were closed over the one window that emitted light. Also, the day had been cloudy. For this very reason she did not immediately notice the man that had been hiding in her bedroom.

Venna set the wash down on her bed and turned to sit on it. Hazel eyes took in the sight of the figure and immediately her blood ran cold and her body seemed to seize up. Her mouth dropped open to scream but nothing came out, only silence. Was this the intruder?
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There he is again... the loud one, Nathaly thought to herself as she watched the Roof Runner practically spilling his drinks all over the floor before he could even get a sip in. The man was a regular at their brothel and she had to admit that most of the girls actually liked him. There was an odd charm to the man who had no discretion and probably didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. The redhaired woman had never approached him before for some reason that was even unknown to her. Men paid a pretty penny for a night with her when she was working. Sometimes Nat wondered if it was the hair but many of the other whores said it was her sheer beauty. It made Nathaly laugh because she was ordinary in her own eyes, just another prostitute trying to make enough money to leave this place. Or would she leave? She shook the thought from her head and drank another sip of wine from the glass she had been handed by a passing girl.

Standing from her chair she made sure her dress hugged her curves and the neckline was low enough for the possibility of a generous peek towards her ample cleavage. Slipping her way past drunken men with their arms around pretty girls she approached Modakra and listened curiously to his stories while sipping at her cup.

"You really do know how to capture an audience, don't you?" Nathaly asked as a few of the women skittered away and she could make herself comfortable sidling up next to him. "All of those stories about jumping from building and building... Saving these damsels in utter distress... How much of it is actually true?" She smirked and tilted her head to the side, green eyes catlike and playful.
 
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