The King's Reckoning
IC time is: < morning -- about 9 AM >
IC day is: Valanya <Valar-day>
IC date is: Yestare <New-Year's-Day>
IC year is: 3186 S.A.
LOCATION:
Gimilbatan: At the Fountain
The way is paved with bright, white quarried stone - about fourty feet wide. A few buildings rise on the southern side of the street, while the northern side is occupied by a park adjacent to the very centre of the city. Amidst the greenery there, a fountain shoots forth a clear stream of water to an impressive height... the great basin beneath it stores the water, and upon seeing an orderly line of people filling their buckets with it you perceive the fountain is not for entertainment only. The water is clear and bright, coming from a great depth beneath the earth.
To the northwest, a tall obelisk attracts your attention; to the east along Star Street, silver bridges as if of mist dominate the landscape. That way lies Eastgate, the destination of much traffic from here.
Contents:
* Gimilphel(#7131Vnp)
Obvious exits:
* South leads to Azralen Street.
* Northwest leads to Obelisk Square.
* East leads to Gimilbatan: The Star Arches.
Morning light bathes the city of Umbar, the first light of a new year. The city is unwontedly quiet this day - at this hour the square by the Fountain would usually be a hive of activity. However, the night's revelries have taken their toll, and few walk the streets on this bright sunlit morning.
One of those few is Barzag. Looking somewhat bleary-eyed and tousle-headed, he halts by the basin, scooping up some of the water in his hands and taking a refreshing drink. He splashes his face, blinking as the cold droplets of water take effect. He hesitates then, but after glancing round the Square and seeing nobody there he pulls off his tunic to dunk his whole head under the water and splash some over his back.
Gimilphel enters the Square from the northern side, a smile on her young face as she surveys the Square, white stone underfoot sparkling brightly in the morning sun. Noticing the lone figure at his ablutions, she peers for a moment as if in unbelief, and then gives a little 'Oh', brows drawing together in a frown of disapproval.
Clean now, Barzag raises his head to shake the water away, dog-like. Only then does he catch sight of Gimilphel. Amber eyes regard her unblinkingly for a moment, then he turns away, reaching for the discarded tunic. He dons it slowly, paying her no further heed for the moment.
Gimilphel's cheeks slowly flush pink. She hesitates, seemingly torn between embarrassment and righteous indignation. Eventually she clears her throat, and says with a slight quaver in her voice, "You shouldn't do that. That's the water that people drink from - you shouldn't pollute it."
Barzag's back is to her; now he slowly turns, glancing round the Square as if half-expecting that she is addressing another. Seeing no-one else, he stares at the girl again, no doubt noting her youth, her timid appearance. Shrugging, he eventually replies, "Your people do not wash?". His twisted lip curls in some unreadable fashion - disdain or mirth? It is hard to tell.
Green eyes widen as Gimilphel listens. "Of course we do," is her indignant reply. "But to use the same water for washing and drinking - it is bad ..." She trails off uncertainly, still blushing. She peers again at the man, and then says, "You're the one Galenrien gave that old cloak to, aren't you?"
Barzag is surprised - or so the faint raising of his eyebrows would indicate - but makes no move to go. Indeed he seems in no hurry to do anything this morning. The dark circles under his eyes suggest one reason for that - perhaps even the city's indentured workers have found an opportunity to celebrate the year's turning in some fashion. At Gimilphel's question, Barzag's eyes flash angrily, and he replies quickly, "I buy it with coin - did buy," he corrects the phrasing. "It is not a gift."
Gimilphel's mouth forms a little 'o' of surprise at the man's touchiness. "Ah. I'll let you be on your way," is her response, unable to think of anything else to say. She remains where she is, though, clearly waiting for the man to move away from the fountain before she approaches.
Barzag recognizes the tone, and, lowering his head for a moment, he takes a few steps forward, only to halt again, swallowing.
Gimilphel, curiosity getting the better of her fear for the moment, asks quietly, "Are you not well? I'm a healer - I'm Galenrien's apprentice." Pausing, she almost imperceptibly draws herself up, a hint of pride creeping into her tone at the words. "Perhaps I can help?"
Barzag raises his head again to stare at the woman, bitterness plain on his face. "It is nothing," he says quickly, and then after a pause adds in a low voice, "I do not need your pity."
Whatever response Gimilphel had expected, it was clearly not this one. Brows lift in puzzlement. "But it is my job to help the sick. Man or woman, old or young, native," she hesitates fractionally, " ... or foreigner." Taking a few steps closer, she adds, "It is not pity, it is natural human kindness. Now, is there any way I can help?" Despite the offer, she seems poised for flight if the man rebuffs her again.
Barzag grimaces. "I ... I drink too much. I am not used to these things now, any more. And so the head and the ... I forget the word," he gestures towards his stomach with his right hand, "hurt. With rest it will be better." He falls silent, adding, "But I thank you for your ... kindness."
Gimilphel smiles, though she does still seem a little nervous. "Then perhaps I /can/ help. There is a tea that Khala, our herbalist, makes - you should try it. I could go back to the Healing Houses and fetch you some, if you like?"
The corner of Barzag's mouth lifts slightly as he watches the girl's earnest expression. He regards her gravely, then replies, "No. There is not the need. And," he turns his head gingerly, looks round the empty square, "I think that many in this city do not wish to rise this day. Can you help all? No, I think time must do the healing."
Gimilphel giggles at the suggestion that many are the worse for wear this morning, then sighs. "I suppose you're right," she admits. "But I /want/ to do something useful ..." She trails off into an embarrassed silence. "Well, if you change your mind you should come to the Healing Houses," she says with as much assurance as she can muster. "There's always someone there - ask for me if you like. I'm Gimilphel."
Barzag inclines his head slightly at this, but says nothing.
A tiny frown appears upon Gimilphel's brow. "And your name is ...?" she prompts.
Barzag regards her warily, as if weighing up why she might ask such a question. Finally he answers, "Barzag. My name is Barzag." On his own face an intense look of concentration appears on his face as he silently mouths the syllables 'Gim-il-vel'.
Gimilphel nods. "Barzag," she repeats confidently, having much less trouble with the Hillman's name than he does with hers. "I'll try to remember that." She smiles tentatively.
Barzag regards her steadily through amber eyes. "I - I thank you for your speaking," he says quietly. "I think I will go now. But I wish you a good day." The right side of his mouth curls up then, in the nearest he can come to a smile. Slowly, he begins to cross the Square again, heading southwards towards Azralen Street, his destination presumably somewhere in the maze of alleyways that riddle the southern portion of the City of Umbar.
"And a good day to you too, Barzag," Gimilphel calls out, her words aimed at his retreating back. There is an oddly puzzled look on her face as she watches him go. However, once he is out of sight she approaches the Fountain readily enough, halting to unhook the water bottle from her belt. She carefully fills it, not from the basin itself but from the flowing spout above, only then daintily supping the contents.
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