Executive summary.
Klaus sits in Minus - alone. A woman comes and he is intrigued, needing to know if all women If the village have fat ankles like Lina, and perhaps its a genetic thing. He discovers she does in fact have delightful ankles, though he may not mention it to her lest it go to her head. He decides Minus may be a worthy port of call on the long return voyage to Point Alfred, from whence he journeys inland to the circle of the wagons of the Alar, and his home.
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Arrival: Klaus Demonia
Arrival: Kamau Amaterasu
Kamau Amaterasu: Tal Sir
Kℓαus of Vanaheim tilted his head and he barely nodded. Once.. .as he continued his observations of the land
Kamau Amaterasu: i did not mean to frighten you.... mearly looking around
Kamau Amaterasu: what is sold here?
Morgan Daxter feels her heart calm a bit"This is a store of a little of this, a little of that. It's not mine..but I thought I'd see what they had."
Kamau Amaterasu: i see... and have you found what your seek here? looking around at the emptiness.
Morgan Daxter shrugs"I thought I might buy some spices but these smell a bit stale."she edges towards the door
Kℓαus of Vanaheim eased to the short stool as he looked about. Quiet. Not even Lina which was a blessing in itself though he may not say as much out loud. He leant back to the wall listening. To the banter of strangers. It was not his business..... he had other business.....
Kamau Amaterasu: Well i wish you well on your spice hunt my lady... be well
Morgan Daxter nods and exhales a sigh of relief"and you as well warrior.."
Kamau Amaterasu: kamau turns to leave and sees the shadow of someone lurking outside of the store.
Kamau Amaterasu: hummm... i must have been mistaken...
Morgan Daxter exits the shop vowing not to get up so early and wander the deserted village without someone she knew nearby."Maybe some bread and juice"she muses..
Kℓαus of Vanaheim was quiet though his hand caressed the handle of his axe as was his custom. It was an old axe. As far as axes went it wasn't the fastest though perhaps sharper than it looked and its handle could tell the stories of many paths. Of many peoples and a land lost to the menace that was the kur. His fingers closed... then opened... feeling familiar grains as he smiled. His path was a song to be sung though maybe none would ever bother and he lowered his fist to the table now. watching. Smelling her before he saw her, but then old instincts die hard.
Morgan Daxter wanders into the familiar establishment with its worn floors and homey feel. It was surprising to her how she had grown to love this place in just a few hands. She wanders over to the kitchen area not seeing any girls about and feels eyes upon her back"Oh, um, Greetings Sir..can I get you something.."she stammers
Kℓαus of Vanaheim inhaled.. nostrils flaring as he drew in the scent of a woman. Perfumed and soft as only Southern women were, and he turned slightly to observe her. Silence.... as weary eyes wandered the length of her body rudely appraising her as only a man may. Finally he spoke.... his voice was surprisingly gentle for such a brute though few would expect it to be so. "Mead....." he said. He found simple commands to be the most effective, though too he had spent too long on his own and conversation wasnt a strong point.
Morgan Daxter eyed the man and assessed him as was her custom for everyone she met. He with his wild appearance seemed to be from the North, and his order confirmed her suspicions. Her heart beat a little faster, but this man with his gentle manner seemed somehow less threatening than the other despite his huge well worn axe. Crossing to the kitchen, she pulled out a horn and checked it for cleanliness and pleased it was shining. Locating the mead barrel she poured the amber liquid in the cup, briefly wondering if it was supposed to be room temperature, and set it gently in front of him"I hope you like this mead, I believe it came on a shipment just a few ahn ago Sir."
Kℓαus of Vanaheim finally took his eyes from her. He had seen what he needed to see and his own appraisal complete though rudimentary. He nodded. She was pretty though the dresses of Southern women were always too much for him, preferring the simplicity of his own peoples. As she walked his eyes followed noting the way the skirt moved with each step. Soft fabrics and fine in their way. He suspected few that were not of high caste would know such fabrics, though her willingness to tend his needs told him more than the skirt. He took a single tarsk from his belt lowering it to the table as his hand circled about the horn. Eyes locked to hers... as he raised it and drank. "It is bad mead....." he said with some disdain as the horn was again lowered. He was old school - mead brought to the south was always bad mead to him, though he would never admit it. The best mead was drunk in the North and it could never be anyway but.
star1 Sandalwood yawns and looks around, she smiles 'oh morning master, mistress' she says kneeling softly while rubbing her eyes
Morgan Daxter shivered a little under his frank appraisal of her. For some reason she only felt exposed this way to Northerners. The men down here may be lusty, but they covered their gazes with a veneer of civility. Drawing near again she took the tarsk from the table"I shall make sure lady Ginger receives this. I don't work in the inn per se..it's just that I don't think a man should have to get his own drinks."she said a bit defiantly at his questioning glance"By the way, she said a bit softer"My name is Morgan, I am trader here in Minas."she turns slightly to face the pretty redheaded girl"Greetings kajira."
star1 Sandalwood lowers her head in a graceful nod and stands up for a moment, she moves closer to see if they need tending, she glances back looking for something for herself for breakfast, as its tradition she comes and grabs food here for the girls
star1 Sandalwood kneels genlty, and lowers her head again as not to piss off anyone this early as she doesn't have her black wine and patients are limited this early for her
Morgan Daxter: "some bread and ramberry juice would be perfect girl. What is your name? I have not seen you here before."
Kℓαus of Vanaheim heard soft feet as again he lifted the horn to his lips. Drinking... before it was lowered again to the table, and though he didnt look he nodded in the general direction of the girl. One fist raising to the woman as he motioned vaguely to his side. "Come - Morgan the trader....." he said firmly. "Stand close that a man may see she who would serve the needs of a man so willingly......". He paused as he said so..... and though his chin was tilted down to the table and the mead his eyes were fixed on her. A firm gaze that had held the eyes of many women in the past, though few had drawn his attention. She.... had drawn his attention if not for the dress she wore than for her eagerness to bring him mead. It was a quality he admired in a woman, but then he was a man and arrogance flowed thickly in his veins.
star1 Sandalwood keeps her head low and softly speaks 'may i be of service?' she asks gently hoping they will say no and let her get her fix of black wine
Morgan Daxter watched the man with wide eyes growing a bit more nervous as he beckoned her closer. Hesitatingly and slowly she stood close to him, but even as she stood, she noted he was almost her height sitting down. "well, all free-women should serve men if there are no slaves should they not? It is what we were taught as children."she lied, knowing her own upbringing was not the usual one for many women. "Is there something wrong..Sir? I hope I have not offended you"her gaze was locked to his, blood thrumming in her veins
star1 Sandalwood lowers her head again and turns going toward the bar, her head still very fuzzy from her late night, she should have went back to her cage, but she stayed up all night with the baby tarn and now she has little energy to focus,
Morgan Daxter: "I have changed my mind girl..I find I am not hungry..you may be released to attend to chores. I hope to speak with you again later however.."her voice trembled a bit and she hoped no one noticed her growing discomfiture
Kℓαus of Vanaheim shooks his head at the slavegirl. "I have been served....." he said simply as his head tilted. Eyes not moving from the woman as he watched her advance. Watched her obey his simple wish. Klaus was one who had wandered longer than he would admit, and his path had weaved. A man who lived on the fringes of Gor for his own reasons, though now finding himself sitting amongst the same civilization he denied himself. One hand raised... curling in the fabric of the skirt for a moment. It was soft... .well woven.... and clearly far more than a woman of low caste may afford unless it had been stolen. But then she didnt wear the mark of the thief and the softness of her gaze gave other things away. "I care little for your Southern laws and rituals of service..." he said shrugging though his eyes remained locked to hers. "Remove this....that a man may see your ankles....".
star1 Sandalwood glances back at the man and the lady, but knows not to interfere with the frees goings on, she quickly grabs the small pot of black wine from the fire and fills a small slave cup, cracked and rough but it holds the key to her being in a good mood
star1 Sandalwood holds the cup and heads toward the steps, she glances back at the lady, feeling sorry for her to be stuck with the seemingly rude man, but she keeps going, knowing its best to keep her nose out of this one
Morgan Daxter: "Remove? My skirt?"backing away, she met the resistance of his hand that gripped the fine linen of her skirt."I am not a kajira or some common slut Sir. I am a free-woman. I do not know what someone would do were they to see me in the inn of all places with skirts around my feet like some slave"she starts out firm, and ends with a bit of a pleading note"and what difference does it make what my ankles look like?"she adds almost defiantly
Kℓαus of Vanaheim watched the kajira and his eyes widened in horror that even slaves were allowed to partake of the precious black wine beans. He knew of them and in truth had some dealings in the past with such trade, and the smuggling from Thentis to the Southern reaches of Ar. Even the slightest bag brought him riches, so to see such wasted on a mere beast caused him a mixture of horror and bewilderment. "Your lands are overly rich...." he said as he stood and the axe was drawn casually from his back and lowered head first to the floor. He leant on the worn handle and again he said 'Remove your skirt that Klaus of vanaheim may understand that.... which he chooses to understand. His eyes narrowed somewhat not interested in her cries of outrage. It was simple to him and his will would be done.
Morgan Daxter follows his gaze to the slave as she leaves amidst the smell of black wine"Oh I assure you, we are not rich..I will find out who that one's Master is, and he will be asked to recompense Lady Ginger." As he stood, his full height was revealed, and the picture he made, the stern ruggedly handsome man of the North and the huge axe he casually leaned upon, made her try to step back again but her skirts again hampered her. Thinking maybe it was better to remove them, should she need to run. Her cheeks flamed bright red as she gently opened the hooks and slid out of the heavy fabric. She thanked the priest kings silently as yet everyone here was sleeping still"Is that..better?"she asked lowly
star1 Sandalwood puts down the cup and looks back for a moment
star1 Sandalwood gasps seeing the lady is without her skirt, not a good thing in these parts, she knows its because of the man, but doesn't want to have him turn his attention on her and slinks away very quietly, but makes a mental note to tell someone about this
Morgan Daxter flushes hearing bare footsteps hoping it was just the slave from before but does not look up..
Kℓαus of Vanaheim merely nodded though his eyes remained locked to hers. she was pretty... though the south was etched in her every vein and in some ways he despised that. His hand raised and a calloused finger brushed along her cheek tracing the curvature of her features with an almost childlike curiousity. "You are pretty.....and your ankles are slim" he said. His every feature gleaming with amusement as he said it. "She... has fat ankles..... and is not worthy to stand at the side of a man...". He motions to the poster proclaiming Lina and her impending FC with a shrug. It was simply the truth to Klaus. He was of the practical kind and he raised the skirt folding it over his arm before passing it back to her. "Next time I call for mead you will wear clothing pleasing to the eye of a Northern man" he said firmly and he pressed the fabric to her hands before turning. The tide was departing and he too... would sail on it.
Morgan Daxter accepts the skirt and his compliments with a confused bewilderment"Thank you Sir. May I ask what I am supposed to wear? This is befitting my status here as a free-woman and trader of the village.."she almost snorts unladylike as he motioned to the poster"well, Lina is..um different to say the least. I am sure her companion appreciates what he is about to have in her. She considers herself a treasure"her pretty mouth twists up in a wry smile. As he turns to leave, she presses a small hand to her cheek where he had gently touched her with his rugged calloused hands
Kℓαus of Vanaheim paused.. turning to her and he was impassive to her question for a moment considering his words. "You are not displeasing to the eye of a man...." he said and his eyes gleamed as he said so before continuing. "Wear that which a man would desire to see...... ". He turned now... walking to the door before pausing. Not turning back as he checked the alley-ways and the paths before departing. "I will return - for mead. You will serve me mead......serve as a man may desire to look upon a woman. Mead that is of quality..... higher than.... that..." he said with some disdain as he waved his hand towards the half empty horn he had abandoned and he departs. He hadn't told her his name nor his lands, but for a reason....... and perhaps he had a purpose some may not know nor understand. Perhaps......
Kℓαus of Vanaheim eased onto the simple serpent that served him so well. To the right were slave-girls beautiful to the eyes of men and yet his attention was elsewhere. Who can say how the minds of men work, or the wisdom of the paths they may choose but in the depth of his belly he felt something had changed. He would understand it better, and he turned releasing the mooring line before hoisting sail. Easing the small vessel into harbor, and onwards to the river that led to Point Alfred and the wagon journey ahead. He was a long way from home...... and had found a reason to return.....
Teleport completed from
http://slurl.com/secondlife/City%20Of%20Treve/240/9/22End of part 1
