Morning at the Market
Kierkgard Dun <<Market Square>>
The fires in this portion of the city were not quite as fierce as elsewhere, and so the process of clearing away the charred rubble, broken and blackned beams, and other debris has progressed more quickly. But rather than build new buildings, this area has instead been made into a mostly open space, and here many make-shift shacks or tents are located, most of them selling various types of meats or produce. More permanent structures are still under construction, but only a few appear to be nearing completion.
The square is filled with the bustle of the market. Carts and small booth form a loose ring around the well, which serves as a meeting place and a spot to stop and gossip.
The murky sky is overcast and dreary. The early morning winter air is cool and dry around you. The moon is not visible.
A thick gloom hangs heavily over the square, mists veiling the morning in greys and blues as one of bent stature walks gingerly across the busy square. Amber-sparked eyes peer out from beneath the cover of a heavy brown cloak as Yselde weaves between the villagers, her steps seeming labored until at last they fall still. The carpenter and healer leans heavily against a cart full of lumber, only then pushing back the hood of her cloak to reveal a wearied face and wild sable hair.
Though quite early in the morning, the square seem pretty busy. Shopkeepers selling their wares, children playing, and all such seem the everyday bustle of this market square. Much like the days before, a young girl, covered in an oversized, ragged, hooded cloak sits by one of the stands, sleeping through the morning. For those whom don't know of her, she seems like any ordinary street girl, but for those who have seen her before, something about her seems.. different today. The girl seems wide awake today, which would be strange since she usually sleeps until almost noon. In her hand the girl holds a small ring (Not the One Ring but it's still good.. :P). Studying it carefully, thr girl ignores most of that which goes around her, raising her head every so often to watch as people pass her by.
A sigh rises and falls in Yselde's chest, its release bringing about a droop to her shoulders, and yet a refreshed look to the weather-worn features of her face. After another moment of rest, she rises once more from her rest against the cart, pulling her cloak tight around her and sifting through the crowds with a steady gaze. Amidst the bustle as morning prepares to pass into day, there are few who linger long in the square in one place or another.
Few, save a particular young girl. It is with her that the carpenter's stare longest remains, and eventually her steps lead in the same direction. When Yselde is close she speaks at last. "What have you there?" is her inquiry, voice broken and rough even though her words remain steady in tone.
The girl looks up at the woman, giving a sweet smile (Fake.. but still sweet.) "I've got a lucky ring.. Bring luck to 'oever wears it.." She says, seeming very proud of this "If you'd li'e t' bye it I'll sell it for cheap today.." She adds, sounding more like a shopkeeper than a young girl.
Yselde's response is a thin but regretful smile, followed by words that mirror the same sentiment. "A very tempting offer," she replies, a smirk lifting her cold-reddened lips. "I could do with a bit of luck, but even more so the money to buy it, if it were possible." Faraway sadness marks her voice, hoarse though it is, for whatever reason. "If I thought you a girl in need of lumber, I would suggest a trade." Here the woman chuckles before next she speaks. "I don't suppose you'd tell me how you came by this ring?"
The girl's smile widens "A stroke o' luck itself.. Foun' i' on th' groun' yesterday." The girl replies "'Fraid I can' do much with lumber but a lil' gold would do me much good. Sure ye don' wan' t' buy it?"
"Aye, lass. Sure as I can be," Yselde replies simply, doing little to disguise her conviction for the girl's benefit. "What food and shelter would I buy with luck? And what proof do I have that it is lucky in the first place?" Her words are to Cecilia, and yet her eyes lift once more to the busying square, as if searching someone out between the bustling folk.
Cecilia raises and eyebrow quizzically at the woman as her eyes search the crowd "Ye lookin' fer someone?" She asks, ignoring the woman's criticism on the ring.
More a grunt than a yes is the carpenter's response. "I am," Yselde clarifies with a rough nod of her head. Before she can further clarify who she might be looking for, one who might very well be him comes skipping through the crowd - a young boy, dark of hair, with a bright smile and eyes not unlike Yselde's own. "Caidan!" she calls, a new smile spreading across her face as the boy lumbers towards her with a parcel thrust proudly out in front of him.
The girl blinks as the young boy runs towards Yselde. Placing the ring into one of her cloak's pockets, Cecilia seems to give up on the selling of the ring. "This yer son?" The girl asks. Though some of her politeness seems to have faded, she still seems far from rude.
Chubby little fingers are wrapped tightly around the drawstring of a burlap bag, releasing only as the boy drops it in Yselde's outstretched hands. "Here y'are, mum!" Caidan declares in the singsong voice of a child of six. Though his pride is matched in the width of his smile, it too fades as he notices Cecilia. "Who's that lady?" he whispers, brown eyes widening as they settle on the young girl.
The carpenter seems renewed by the boy's presence as she sits down gingerly and pulls him onto her lap. "Yes, he is. This is Caidan," she replies softly, tucking the parcel carefully under her arm.
A figure exits the old Temple compound, cloak pulled tight against the winter winds. Those close enough might recognize the cleft-lipped features of Barseg. Threading his way amidst the stalls, he seems to take only a passing interest in the bustle of the marketplace ... gaze abstracted, staring at the seated trio without really seeing them.
The boy tugs on the edge of Yselde's cloak from his perch on her lap, cupping small hands to her ears in a cautious whisper as his eyes remain - not entirely without suspicion in their depths - with Cecilia. A rough, lopsided smile warms the woman's face as she returns the whisper before turning to Cecilia once more. "We must be going," she replies ruefully, nudging Caidan off of her lap before she stands once more. The child's hand disappears into her larger, calloused one as the carpenter takes her leave with a subtle wave over her shoulder.