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Following the Trail

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Wildfire:

  Following the Trail  
[Reference to Session 14 Part 2]
{This thread involves Jarmok and Sayer if Phin wishes)  
Duthash Gyth Basque VY. 237 (May 29)  
OOC: Johan, setting the mood, feel free to edit anything that I presume in regards to Jarmok
 
Kossuth had not yet risen over the horizon. The scent of late spring flowers coasted on the morning breeze and the sounds of a waking city were just beginning. From his window Jarmok could see the silhouette of enormous white cathedral in the distance. The height of its towers were surpassed by only the mountains themselves it seemed. The tangled web of streets of Kurr seemed confusing compared to the roads that ran through Threshold, as did all of the buildings. Looking at it too long one could have gotten dizzy it seemed. Perhaps it was a different sort of “forest”. One with buildings instead of trees…but not even close to natural.  
 
The suite that was lent to Jarmok was perhaps larger than the cabin that Mercer had given him back in Threshold. Utilitarian drapes and elegant tapestries lined the walls to shield from the cold stone in the winter retain their coolness in the summer. There was a desk for which to write and a sitting area to converse in comfort. It was by all measures, a nice place. It was not home though and it certainly wasn’t the forest and fields that he felt most attuned to.

Johan:
Jarmok could not remember ever having been *in* a city before. He had been close though, and back at that time, he had thought that the smell would make him expel his breakfast. So much humanity in one small area, he supposed. The rotting trash, unwashed people, and other waste were noxious.

Now that he was inside the walls of such a place, he realized that the wind was unable to flow freely through such a place, only making matters worse. The bit of floral scent was able to rise above it in the pre-dawn morning, but Jarmok suspected that as the city folk went about their day, they'd make the day smell rather rank.

Jarmok hoped that Sayer could quickly get done what he needed to get done, so that they could be back to Threshold as soon as possible...or at least out of Kurr. He wondered whether there might be a spot in this stench-hole where there might be a park of some sort; perhaps he might forget where he was, at least for a short while.

Wildfire:
Jarmok took notice of a faint knock on his door. From beyond he could hear a baritone voice ask quietly, “Trailmaster Jarmok, are you awake yet? I have some breakfast to share.”

The ranger recognized the voice as being that of the Arch-Duke himself. His fine senses could indeed tell that there was some breakfast, Jarmok was certain there was a variety of meats, to be had.

Johan:
Jarmok walked a bit too quickly over to the door to open it. He was a bit surprised to see that there was no mere servant at the door (rich city folk, he had thought, preferred to let other people do the little chores).

Jarmok jerked his head in greeting to the Arch-Duke. "Come." He said, opening the door wide.

Wildfire:
Corwynn bowed in acceptance of the invitation. “My thanks to you.” He replied as he balanced a large platter in his left hand and swept his right hand out in grandiose fashion. His enormous frame was clothed in simple fineries of black pants, tan shirt, and soft black leather boots. His long copper colored hair was tied into a messy ponytail and around his neck was a round, bronzewood medallion with the carved face of a wolf gilded with the unmistakable shine of the goldleaves from the grove overlooking Threshold.

Strapped to his belt was a blunt wooden axe and sheathed to his back was a blunt wooden bastard sword. Jarmok knew from his sparring days with Mercer that they were practice weapons.

The Duke entered the room and set the platter of food on a table in the living area. “Please pardon my early intrusion if you would. I’m an early riser and you being a guide and trailmaster I figured you were up about as well. I’m glad I wasn’t wrong.” he said as he belted out a hearty laugh.

“I’ve brought a steaming heap of spiced meats and some…cheeses…I think…maybe some root fruit. Really I just grabbed whatever I could find on the spits and cutting tables in the kitchen.” Corwynn stated as he arranged the plates and forks on the table. He lifted the cover from the platter to reveal a mountain of food with an irresistible aroma of seasonings.

“Please, sit down…there’s enough food here for both of us. Tell me a bit about yourself. I like to know someone before I ask something of them.” He stated plainly and casually.

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