Fort Cumberland, early afternoon. Dalibor also here.
--
She knew that plague was real.
Humans had clearly had a civilisation that was vast and far reaching. For all their itinerant ways, they had never been able to escape signs of a species suddenly gone. What causes a species to disappear forever? Perhaps she wasn't learned enough to be able to distinguish a gradual decline, but in that case, why did all the cities seem to have the same sort of musk? If it had taken a long time, surely some of them would be more overtaken by forest than they were, and they'd have lost some of that lingering gloom.
Maybe it was possible that she had walked through ruins that had been swallowed by trees or rock or sand, but wouldn't there be more stages of decay to be seen? Lone cottages often seemed further along in their death than urban structures, but wasn't that just a difference in materials? Where was the cracked asphalt with a whole, ancient tree grown out of it? No, plague made the most sense.
She'd seen it on a smaller scale, too, with planted crops. Something noxious took hold of one corner of the alfalfa and soon the rest of the field was decimated. A swift death for a whole population. It was real and possible.
Fiction tightened the clasp of the mask and inhaled slowly. Damp stone and concrete and sweet grass and nearby flowers. And underneath everything, the maybe-smell of long ago death.
"Strangers approaching from the west," Dalibor announced from his perch atop of one of the stone walls. His voice was low, but steady, relaxed.
Fiction nodded and took another breath. There was no hint of strangers on the wind, but what was what the mask was for, in the end.
It had been a passing rumor, but like all things, had truth behind it. Strange traders with masks, the locals said, and pointed her towards the north.
Ever-curious, Morgana had thought about this deeply. The incident with Brocade at Saturnalia had left her concerned. Poison was not uncommon in a place like Salsola, but the fact it had slipped through so easily worried her. What would she have done if her husband was dead before they were even married?
Frankly, the thought was unacceptable.
When Sanguine had mentioned the same rumor to her one day over casual conversation, Morgana had seized upon it. She had become fixed on the idea of seeing what it was these strange traders must have brought with them. When they next met on the road between their homes and the Feasting Hall, their third party member – Narcissa, escaping the confines of her children as she began to wean them – came across the pair while they were discussing seeking out the traders. Her own talents in herbalism revealed, the Lady Greygrief made it apparent she desired to join them. Glad for the company, Morgana had agreed and the trio made their plans.
The journey was not terribly far, but they had left before daybreak and made good time during the cold morning. She rode atop her borrowed horse, with all manner of goods in her bags.
When the Fort came into view, Morgana was pleased. The structure was a curious sight, and from the rise from which the Salsolans approached, the witch could make out the motion of horses below.
Sanguine was much more of one to keep his ears open to rumors than many seemed to in Salsola, which was strange considering the very nature of their kingdom. Perhaps that was just a matter of his line of work. Business was all about listening in on rumors, sharing them with others that might seek out the same opportunity as him. Part of their social climb was a competition, but it also served them all well to assist one another for the betterment of the whole.
Which was in a way how this current situation had come to pass. Morgana was Apprenticed in the Sanctus tier, but that didn't mean she wasn't one of the members that still dealt with merchant tasks. She had been the one to introduce him to Cook, and in turn helped him in getting on his own path. It seemed only fitting that he share the rumor he had heard about the trio to her.
One that she had heard in passing as well, but now had much more of a reason to seek them out.
The last one to join them was the Lady Greygrief herself. The idea that she needed to get away from her children was not unreasonable, but she didn't really seem to stand out as one of those that would be interested in trade deals. Guess he could just pass that off as simply not knowing the pale woman well enough.
The dark male offered to have Beurre carry most of their goods. It wouldn't be a hinderence on the large horse, and was no doubt used to carrying things due to Sanguine constantly being on the move to make deals with Outsiders. Following along behind the orange woman, one hand moved up over his head, blocking out the sun to see the Fort that came into view, "Doesn't seem like too much. I hope this little rumor is worth it."
Fiction stood at the edge of the hill, where it began to slope gently down towards the old paved path, now cracked in a thousand places with grass and flora. Her grey cloak and red scarf waved gently in the afternoon breeze, which, while not quite warm, was certainly not as chilly as its morning counterpart.
She didn't know anything about the local packs. The traders in Portland hadn't had much to say on the topic, but it seemed that the area packs sent their own traders over on a regular enough basis. The area didn't seem particularly densely populated, but she supposed this was the preference for packs, who wanted their own land to dominate and for others to stay a safe distance away. It was difficult to assess a pack's population from the outside as well, but this was certainly a figure that a pack would wish to keep secret.
"Hello!" she called to the three strangers on horseback. Each had their own saddlebags, though some seemed more filled and heavy than others. "Come to trade, I hope." She smiled, though she knew they couldn't see it through her mask. "It'll be worth your while, I'm certain." After all, most rational people didn't enjoy pain and didn't want to die.
Weaning had given her enough time here and there to escape the clutches of her four rambunctious children and the Amazon was determined that she start using that time to her own benefit. The pursuit of physical prowess seemed a lost cause now, at least for the time being, and she'd coincidentally begun to enjoy the art her father had once pursued himself. It was a pity the old skeleton had been such a prickly individual, maybe if he hadn't been Narcissa would have been more inclined to listen to him.
She rode upon her own horse, an uncommon occurrence for the Arbiter as her size was a touch larger than what her horse was entirely comfortable with, even moreso now she carried extra weight. She had long since made a mental note to find herself a larger steed, but given that she rarely rode, it seemed a waste of money until she was forced into situations as such. Still, she doubted that with meagre rumours and the comparatively short journey, her horse would be took put out by what was asked o him.
She was curious more than anything, the rumours of cures and other medical oddities being peddled were enough to pique her interest where little else did. There were things in her father's countless books and notes that Salsola no longer cultivated (though neglect of the garden or choice, she didn't know) and many things that were unable to be grown this far north and she was curious to see if any such things were on offer here.
'Yes.' Narcissa agreed with the sole male among them, though frankly, any excuse to momentarily escape her children was a good one in her mind. 'I don't make much of these rumours in any case. Though I'm not one to turn down supplies where i can get them...'
Rumors have to start from somewhere, the witch offered. She was wise enough not to assume they would always find the the things they had been told, but she though their sources reliable enough. If these traders had anything worthwhile, they – a witch, a trader, and an aspiring herbalist – had reason to investigate.
What they found was a curious assortment. Two Luperci were waiting for them, both wearing long masks that obscured their faces. It was a curious sight. Morgana wondered at once if the purpose was ritualistic.
Pleased that the stranger was amicable enough, Morgana chose to dismount. Once on foot she led Pythios towards the hybrid, lifting her open palm in a sign of greeting.
Well met! I heard there might be goods to be found this way. My friends and I do business in these parts, though I can't recall ever seeing you before. She was a fast talker and smiled as she did so. Even though Morgana's calling had led her to the Sanctus, she had lived as a trader for many years and had not lost her touch.
The trio strolled together in their group, horses following alongside one another. The fort itself didn't look like much to be bragging over, at least not when compared to the vast Ruins that the members of Salsola had to live among. It was worn down, just like anything else. As more of this location came into view, so too did those that had set up here. He had caught the word of Narcissa, one that didn't seem too fond on chasing rumors from the start. He fell in line with Morgana, knowing that there had to be some truth to them for them to have spread. Better to check them out in this line of work than let an opportunity slip past them.
The two that were standing there waiting for them had strange masks covering their muzzles. These must have been the strange traders spoken of in the rumors, but he was drawn to their masks. Salsola was no stranger to their own sort of rituals, Morgana heself being among the kingdom's witches, but this was something new all together.
The Apprentice was the first to dismount, having stepped towards the two strangers and offered out a hand in greeting. There was no need for each of them to make their own as the Revlis woman addressed to all of them on the whole in her own. Following with her own actions, the dark male had dismounted from Beurre, though kept to the horse's side for now. No need to crowd the two strangers.
Offering a small smile of his own, there was still a chance to add on to some of the things that Morgana had said. Giving the mare a small pat along her neck, his focus fell down on the speckled woman, she being the one that addressed them in the first place, "Word travels around fast in this area. We came in the hopes of seeing what you might have to offer."
As the small group approached, Dalibor clambered down carefully from the worn stone wall. Three of their own horses were scattered on the gentle hills behind them, grazing, but he hadn't seen anyone else -- canine or horse -- within the visible radius of his vantage point. The wolf dusted off his hands and stood halfway between the crumpled building that was serving as their shelter and their little pyramid-shaped stack of per-prepared bundles.
Though not particularly large, he stood half a head taller than Fiction and was twice as wide, especially with leather armour on. Dalibor was happy to keep watch on transactions without participating himself. He wasn't uncomfortable around strangers per se and hadn't been new to the occupation, but his companions were far quicker with their tongues than he, and they had each fallen into their roles very naturally.
"Indeed!" Fiction glanced at the wolfish woman and male before settling her bright gaze back on the tawny hybrid who had spoken first. "We've only just arrived here, but have traveled far with wares and warnings for all." The spottled canine also tended towards speaking quickly, keen both to not waste time and to not give customers opportunity to doubt her truths.
"You seems like a learned trio, so I'm sure I don't need to explain the benefits of herbal remedies and medicines." She looked again at each of the visitors. "We've a wide variety of raw ingredients from near and far for the practiced healer and finished cures for those who aren't -- the most important of which will save you and your families from the plague and disease coming from the southerlands, and which will surely arrive here soon."
Narcissa said nothing, she was a sceptic at heart and stubborn to boot, her mind to close off to the multitude of possibilities that mysticism offered to the world. She'd shunned her father's beliefs and continued to shun those of her brother's, save for Khalifa, and the many of her packmates that worship something otherworldly. Herbalism was at least something she could appreciate. The Arbiter did not correct the russet haired woman, did not clarify that her scepticism only went so far as to cover the follies of witchery. Morgana had climbed higher than she in the ranks and, thus, there was unspoken respect in play.
The Lady Greygrief did not greet the trader as her companions had. Instead, she cast an appraising eye over the masked hybrid. An eyebrow arched incredulously as the peddler spoke of a finished cure and the other one soon joined its cousin as she prattled on further about a mysterious plague. Narcissa was no more convinced now than she had been when she'd arrived.
The hybrid's smile flickered like a candle's flame at the stranger's warning.
She did not dismiss this claim so easily, but wondered exactly where it was these traders had come from. The red-furred witch tried to keep her composure and managed quite well, though she let out a little nervous laugh when the painted woman finished speaking.
Is that so? I have family in the south, down along the coast – was that where y'all came from? Or somewhere else? If there is a plague coming we ought to learn about it, don't y'all agree? She asked her companions, looking between Sanguine and the taller Narcissa. They had a duty to Salsola, after all, and also to their own families. Ensuring that the Kingdom remained safe was the least they could do.
Still, she was here for business – gleaning information that could be vital seemed as valuable as these supposed herbs and tinctures.
I'm afraid I don't know too much about healing, Morgana lied. Would you be willing to part with your cure? I have some travel food and other things I could offer. If you believe in luck, I have a few charms to offer – they're all true and good, the witch promised, smiling.
The merle hybrid sympathised with the brief, faltering expression, and she was happy to provide a small relief to it. "Not along the coast," she elaborated. "Not yet, I don't think. We came from further west and to the south, inland, though we've seen it in both dense forests and open plains and mountains."
She glanced again briefly at the other two packwolves who did not speak. It was easiest to converse with just one person, though she did wonder what the tawny woman's companions thought.
Skepticism was not an uncommon reaction, though Fiction wasn't sure there was much benefit to it, in this case. The worse that could come from believing is that they'd be prepared for a threat that didn't come, and she felt that was not so much a "worse" outcome than being prepared for a threat that did come. It might be different if they were asking for the world in exchange for their cure, but they already had the world. They had their freedom and their health and each other, and their asking for a few pounds of meat and fur was hardly unfair.
Fiction smiled. "Our cures are to share, certainly, as our warning is, and I trust you'll find our prices very reasonable." She explained their bundling system and the things they would accept in exchange. "I've had luck enough without charms, I think, but thank you all the same," she added politely. The hybrid looked behind her at the stack of bundles.
"We've enough for two for each of you, if you'd like, but not quite enough today for you to take ten back to your pack, but you're welcome to trade for the amount you want, see what you get, and come back for more later if they suit you. We should have a few more bundles prepared in a few days."
For the most part, Sanguine's gaze had moved to whomever was speaking, only taking a small amount of time to glance over to Narcissa. She had wanted to come along on this trip, but didn't seem to contribute all that much. Perhaps it was something a little more than curiosity that had brought her along? Even so, it didn't seem like she fit with the other two, her stance and usual sort of scowl not fitting with the other two traders. It was something she would need to work on if she would want to come with him again.
Next time he'll remember to suggest her sibling come along instead.
Green eyes moved over to Morgana, taking hold of the situation. She seemed to have made a keen note in regards to the warning. It wasn't much to go on, much like rumors in their own right, but it was not something to completely dismiss either. If there was something coming, then they would do well to be prepared for it rather than lacking the proper tools. That was surely something the three of them could all agree on, even in silence.
The dark male had moved to speak, but the black and white woman answered back first, which caused a bit of an annoyed look to fall on Sanguine's face. He didn't let it last long, thinking over what was being offered to them. The Revlis woman had been the only one offering to put up any kind of goods to get the items in return, and it would do no good on his part if he did not do the same. Once it was clear that no one else was going to try to interrupt him, one hand moved along the saddlebags, "If you're looking for a little more to make up for what you are offering to us, then I have some goods that can be added with my friend's bundle as well."
He gave a small pause, thinking a bit on it more before making another offer, "I can return when the bundles are ready to collect them."
Narcissa raised an eyebrow. If these traders had, in fact, come from the south, and if there had, in fact, been a plague brewing, she was sure this would not have been the first they would have heard of it. Again, she remained silent. It would do the reputation of Salsola no good to quarrel over such banal things. The Arbiter was not inclined to believe the words of those who took payment for something directly related to the doom they peddled, which, in her mind at least, seemed to be nothing but common sense.
'I'll take what ointments and the like I can get for a pound of herbs.' Narcissa offered, her tone stiff and business-like, though it revealed some mild disdain that she couldn't keep entirely contained. 'I have mint, or lavender. Some of both if it pleases you.' Both plants were common and things she had in large supply and therefore, not particularly valuable to her. 'There's a gold trinket too, if that sways you.' The trinket was not true gold, Narcissa knew that as much as her father had once treated her to a long demonstration of his most valuable follies, but it was pretty enough at least.
Powerplayin' Morgana a lil bit to finish this up. Thanks, everybodyyyyy.
--
Business was business in the end, and Fiction was satisfied enough that all three of the trio seemed amenable to trade, regardless of whatever reservations they kept to themselves. She had no quarrel with those who were polite enough on the surface, as that was what she also endeavoured for, most of the time.
The merle hybrid smiled obligingly at the light-colored woman. "Certainly," she said. "We'll take the lavender, if you would, and the trinket would be lovely." Fiction had no love for colorful stones, but plenty of others did, and thus they were useful to have on hand for easy trades at busy ports and other junctions. She did not know the difference between real gold and what wasn't, but neither did she have any reason to value one over the other.
Dalibor, quiet but attentive in the background, began to gather up a few of their bundles while Fiction turned to the visitor who most resembled him. "We'll be happy to take anything that's on the list," she repeated cheerfully. They were the most valuable things to carry with them; other things, while fanciful or nice, took up space, were difficult to re-trade, or otherwise didn't serve an immediate purpose. "One of my partners or I should always be here for the next two weeks, so do come by any time during the day."
The tawny woman insisted on her good luck charm and Fiction laughed lightly in acquiescence. "Very well, friend," she said, winking. "I'll think of you on the road if good fortune comes our way, or if ill does."
Dalibor approached and silently handed Fiction several bundles. "Well, then, take your pick!"
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