Caanan Returns

Alexandria Festival Grounds, midday

Harvest time! Always a cause for celebration, whether you're a farmer working the earth, or a city-dweller pursuing a craft, everyone loves a party. This one is... well, it's spirited but not raucous, and the reason seems to be two of the local druids, who are running what appears to be a 'petting zoo' for children. Of course, this being Alexandria, some of the creatures are... exotic. Best in show is a strange, blue-colored, spindly looking creature with a long trunk and oddly expressive eyes, that happily accepts the curious touches of children. A sign in large letters posted next to its paddock declares: DO NOT BRING MAGICAL GEAR CLOSER THAN SIX FEET.

Not far from that are tables for sampling the newest batches of cider made with the latest crops of apples. Those tables are getting a brisk business, especially with a rather distinctive fellow standing next to one, sipping from a mug. His hair is long, red, and braided neatly, and his garments are forest green, trimmed in black and silver. His eyes dance merrily, and he grins at the cider-brewer. "Ah, and ye've outdone yourselves again, my friend! It's good to see ye've done well for yourself!"

The Worg races into town, nimbly dodging past carts, horses and people alike. The wee woman upon his back clings tightly to the ruff of his neck, and her knees are pressed tightly to his sides.

"Okay, whoaaaa, Wilfred! I SAID WHOA!"

Wilfred obeys, stopping practically on a silver coin. Leaving the Goblin to fly off, rolling and tumbling until she collides with a full cider barrel.

"Owwwwwwww."

GAME: Carver rolls ride: (15)+14: 29

Certain elves were far, far from the animals, at least for the time being. No, the much, much more interesting things at the festival this day were people working with the apple harvest of the year. Schara had her hair loose, and the artificer was leaning down to inspect a glass of the cider curiously. An inspection abruptly interrupted by a massive wolf, worg, large dog like creature racing by.

Said artificer was hiding under one of the tables now, keeping a wary eye on the animal.

Carver rides into town, in the wake of a Worg's charge. Where Murder lives up to their name, she and the beautiful red strider she is astride almost dance, a perfectly harmonious pairing of master and trusted friend. With her greater height, the many smells of late season autumn and cooking food teases her senses.

She sniffs a few time to try to pinpoint the source, and in her investigation instead she finds the short fellow whose face is one she recognizes. "Oh, you ended up settlin' in Alex after all?"

One of the druids looks up in alarm, before relaxing as the worg stops and plunks down on its rump. He looks to his companion, who shrugs. "Adventurers," as if that says it all. Meanwhile, the blue-furred creature is looking at the new arrivals with interest, its trunk starting to sniff in their direction. "Uh oh. Quick!" Hurriedly, the other druid pulls a bottle of weird multi-hued fluid from a bag, and offers it to the strange beast, who seems happy with the offering.

Meanwhile, the little fellow blinks up at Carver, before his face splits in a broad grin. "Oh, not hardly, lass! But I come here every winter, after all. I've been doing it for a number of years, and unlike some unexpected guests, I don't cause trouble and I pay me own tab." His bushy brows wiggle. "But it's good to see ye again. Care to have a drink with old Caanan?"

GAME: Murder rolls knowledge/nature: Trained Use Only: 0

GAME: Murder rolls knowledge/arcana: (5)+13: 18

The Goblin groans and makes to stand up. Smacking her head upon the board being used as a makeshift table. Things rattle and shake, and Murder steps out from under the table rubbing her forehead.

Wilfred refuses to meet her gaze as she stumps over to glare at the beast. He also moves his nose about as the Gobbo attempts to pull his head down. "I guess no one wants this bacon...", she says, managing to get the Worg's nose a moment after. "You and I will be doing more training."

Schara was left under the table, waiting for everything to settle down. "If you don't have a good grasp of training with that animal you shouldn't be riding it out in the city as someone could be seriously harmed as a result." The artificer states. "At the very least I didn't spill any of the cider off of that table."

Carver gets a glance as well, and in their way of shuffling out from under the table, they head for the opposite direction.

Carver slips off her horse, giving a cautious look to the willful worg. At least effort was being made in bringing it to heel, she recognized it from her training. "A difficult breed to... train, I wish you look with that." At the artificer slowly coming out from beneath the table, she gives a crooked smirk.

"Sure, I'll take you up on a drink. Is why'm 'ere anyway." She reaches into her pocket as she leads her steed by the reins, step in step. "It's been a long time, coul' you remind me of your name again?"

Some of the children are now looking with interest at the horse and the worg, though they shy a bit away from the giant wolf. Meanwhile, the bottle of glowing fluid in the blue creature's trunk pulses, and then the glow... fades, the liquid inside dark and inert. Then the beast lets out a small 'burping' sound, and the druid deftly takes the bottle away.

Caanan mock-clutches his chest. "Ach, lass, you wound me! Ye don't remember Caanan O'Winter? Well, then again it was almost a year ago. Time flies here on Ea." The leprechaun -- for he has to be, with that garb and the glint in his eyes -- spins a few silvers to the man behind the counter, before passing a mug to Carver. "Just a drink with friends," he says with a smile. "No bindings or whatnot. I don't cotton to that s... ah, you get the idea." He gives Schara a grin as well, before tilting his head towards Murder and her worg. "Friend of yours?"

GAME: Murder rolls knowledge/local: (9)+4: 13

Wilfred simply sits there, tail wagging slightly, an ... amused look on his face as the Goblin scolds him. She looks to Schara then, blinking. "He did that intentionally, knowing I would go flying as I did. He's not dangerous..."

Murder's gaze goes to Carver, and she nods. "He's a handful. But he loves to run." She frowns ever so slightly looking at Caanan. "Yes, we are on good terms. He only exists because I pulled him out of someone's dreams. And I didn't slay him." Her eyebrows rise up slightly. "So how's the cider?"

"Thank you for not staying on your horse, miss Carver, correct?" The artificer responds, smiling back awkwardly. "Yes, but running wildly like that can put people in danger, especially if they are terrified of large animals." She adds to Murder. "Oh, I didn't know you were a leperchaun. "I don't know if you are asking Carver if she's a friend of hers or not and if it is directed towards me, I don't know her very well."

"We met once or twice, I think." Carver says. "What, fancy a lil' green do you?" She smirks as she takes a seat and throws a handful of small coins to pay for a drink. Her steed lingers right over her shoulder, perfectly still. As if waiting for a sip.

"Jus' Carver, honest. I ain't done enough to be earnin' no miss."

"Yeah, he's a Leperchaun. Met 'em on a job with some nasty fey what wanted to eat me ears. He's a good guy, coul' teach some of the folks how to behave around here."

Caanan takes a long pull off his mug. "Quite good this year," he says happily. "A great balance of tart and sweet. I'd try and take a keg with me if I could figure out how to carry it on my back!" The leprechaun makes a face at Carver's mention of nasty fey. "Aye, that was an ugly bit o' business. But you were up to the task. Take heart from that, lass." He smirks faintly at 'behave'. "I'm not the best role model, lass. I once led a tavern in an all-night singing marathon -- the beer and cider were flowing freely, you see."

Meanwhile, the blue furred beast is eyeing the trio of adventurers again. At least it's not sniffing at them, instead giving the worg the side eye. A couple more children approach the sedate creature, and it leans down to sniff at them instead.

"How... far away do you live?", the Goblin wonders of Caanan. "I could carry it for you." She eyes Schara then, simply shrugging at her. "He is well behaved, didn't knock anyone over, didn't growl or howl.. obviously he's allowed in the city, do you see the city guards chasing us?"

Murder's stomach growls as she looks to Carver. "Are Carver-ears a delicacy or something?"

"Yes, it's a good year for harvests! the summer and fall weather have led to the apples not being overly sweet this year for a lot of the varieties. My family always said that an apple that's nothing but sweet misses the best parts of the fruit." Schara remarks, taking a step over to the table. "If you say so, I am likely just projecting my own fears after all as I am not good around large animals." She adds with a shrug. "I've never met a leperchaun before, I'm assuming you say that because they're good at celebrating with people and people need to loosen up in the city maybe?"

"Alex is more welcomin' than most, a'least. Dran cities are rare to come by but I would not consider the greatest of them to be welcoming... but, everyone coul' do with being a little looser. Though the Myth and Felwood problems just outside make things a lil' harder." She leans forward into her cup, gulping down a hearty portion. She leans back with a kick of her feet as she wipes her lips clean with the back of an arm.

"My ears? They seemed to fin' them pleasing. Never really gave't much thought meself. Would either of you like somethin' to eat?"

"Beats the pants off sharin' a fire with springheels." Caanan makes a disgusted sound. "Did us all a favor when you pasted those bastards. They're as bad as redcaps." He chuckles, banishing the dark memories. "I never say no to a meal -- my advice is to take it when you can get it!"

The leprechaun gives Murder a cheery smile. "Ah, lass, my true home is the Twilight Lands, Quelynos. But I like coming here. 'Tis a spirited place, and it's not been broken by the world yet. We complement each other, I think."

"That sounds like a long... walk.", the Goblin comments to Caanan. "Do you teleport or something? Fly, maybe?" Her expression sours a little. "I know that those fey are really nasty." Murder looks to Carver and nods. "I saw some really interesting food-onna-stick stalls over there..."

"I wouldn't mind something to eat, now that I have extra money to buy unnecessarily expensive food stall food on occasion, it makes me happy to not have to turn a suggestion like that down." Schara agrees. "Is there a special preparation to the food on the stick, or is the fact that it's on a stick the selling point? I can't imagine that the wood skewers add that much to the final cost of the product, so it could be just something done to differentiate it."

"Oh, I don't know much about fey, or other places, my mother always said to keep inquiries into that place limited whenever possible, so I didn't research it much. I bet it is a cool place though, even if things are dangerous."

"I'll go see if I can roun' up a bite or two for everyone," Carver says as she sets her mug back down. "Hopefully, won' be too long lest the Worg be gettin' hungrier." Last bit is a joke, Murder is the more likelier of the two to go hangry rampaging. "Be back in two spits." A kissy noise is made for her crimson friend, and she and the horse mosey along to find a stall to buy meat-on-stick.

Caanan raises his mug to Carver as she heads off in search of food, before turning a bemused look to Schara and Murder. "Don't they teach ye anything? Alright, here's the short form. Aye, there's some fey that are wicked, and some that just think it's fun to toy with mortals. They'll steal your name if you let them, or worse." The leprechaun sighs. "We're not all like that. Some of us, well, we're like you -- just more so. Dryads love the green, leprechauns love gold and drink, that sort of thing."

Caanan walks over to the paddock, where the blue-furred beast is nuzzling the children, and pats its side. "It's like this fellow. He doesn't mean any harm." He pauses, and eyes the two. "But, ah... don't get too close if ye've got magical toys. He'll drain the magic out of them. Sometimes, it's -good- to be cautious."

Murder tilts her head slightly to one side. "Yes, I have some familiarity with fey. More familiar with demons though, but there is some similarities there." She grins broadly. "They tried stealing my name once. Only fey skull I have in my collection."

She eyes the blue critter warily. "Seems like a bad choice of critter to have in this city. Surely the wizards are greatly concerned?"

"No, like I said, my mother taught me not to talk to fey without good reason, and not to trust most of them because even the nice ones can sometimes be less nice or evil ones pretending to be more trustworthy by taking a different shape." Schara answers with a shake of her head, making no move towards the paddock. "But I'm also too curious for my own good about some things so it's better to be on the safe side when there are too many unknown variables."

The druids kind of look nervously at each other. "Well, the guard said they'd keep an eye out. Plus, the ward in the city makes it harder for him to slip away." Caanan laughs. "Aye. These magic eaters, they can sneak off in a twinkling. But they're simple creatures -- feed them and they'll follow you around." He chuckles as the trunk snuffles at him. "Sorry, friend, I was wise enough to leave any toys at home."

"But getting back to my point... if ye take a fey skull for trying to steal your name, well... there was a fellow down at the Ox-Strength who put it best." Caanan smirks. "Fool around and find out. I'll not argue. I like being able to come here, drink, make merry, and not have to worry that someone's got a grudge."

Murder snorts. "I didn't take their skull for trying to take my name... things just went downhill after the name-theft attempt. And I don't hold grudges... okay, maybe I hold a few." She shrugs. "Well, it was nice to meet you, sir. If I could, I would carry a cask of the cider for you. Take care." The Gobbo offers a wave to Schara, and then whistles. Wilfred comes bounding over, ducks his head, catching Murder in the midsection, and tossing her onto his back. With her complaining the whole time, the Worg runs off down the street.

"I guess it's not a risk if they can keep an eye on it, but still, I would rather keep a wide berth. I'm fine right now, but I don't want to think of what would happen if I got too close with any of my prosthesis. I've done some calculations and I don't think it would be pleasant." Schara considers, taking another step back with the goblin being flung around. The wave back is stilted. "No, I still don't like that at all." The artificer sighs. "Nice to meet you mister Canaan, I think I'll go get something to eat."