Storyboards: Maldrek

Poker time | Merchants lost | Ilness | Hassles of moving | Reports | Inquiries | The chase is on | The wagoneer | The road most travelled | The truth | The road again | A chance meeting | Drunk | The return

Poker time
Maldrek stared across the smokey table and peered at his competition. The Sendar, face sombre, stared at his hand. A faint smile touches the corner of his lips. The Drasnian, opulently dressed for show, quietly folds his cards together and throws in a few more chips. The last player at the table, A Nyssian, takes a sip from his cup only to stare harder at the opposing cards.
"Yessss" he quietly whispers right before his head crashes into the table scattering his small winnings. The dealer reaches over and examines the now comatose player. Lifting the drugged eyelid and smelling briefly at his cup, pushes away the drugged man and resumes the play at hand.
"Never fails..." The dealer mutters, then sharply. "Bets please."
Chips clatter together mid-table and the dealer reveals the last card. The Sendar’s smile broadens a bit. “Sendar's are too honest. They shouldn’t take up poker for a living," thought Maldrek. Deep in concentration the Drasnian looks over his cards briefly and throws in a few more chips to the pot. Maldrek makes a show of organizing his cards and lays them face down on the table.
After a long drawn out sigh, Maldrek pushes all his chips into play. The Drasnian actually dropped his mug of ale. The Sendar quickly folds his hand and looks expectantly at the opulent man to his left. Studying Maldrek intently, looking for any tell, the Drasnian calls the pot. Waiting for the show of cards the Drasnian actually starts to sweat lightly, then reveals his two pair. Maldrek laughs out loud, making the sweating man slump in defeat. Maldrek then tosses his cards into the middle of the table, tips the dealer, and leaves.
"WHAT!!" the Drasnian sputters, "But who goes all in with a pair of twos?" Maldrek never turns around but walks away with a smile on his face. Sometimes doing the unexpected goes a long way. Chuckling under his breath. "Czrel should have seen his face..."

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Merchants Lost
Maldrek sat mussing over the latest reports. His buzz was starting to slip away.. That just won’t do. Needing the proper mindset for the tasks at hand, he reached deep into the barrel and retrieved a full glass of dark amber liquid. Taking a sip, he reread the last page. Czrel, had been missing for three days now. The rest of the clan scattered trying to fulfill a large order.
Which brings another point... This order. It doesn’t make sense, the clan is losing money instead of making it... Either poorly thought out or some other forces at work.
Granted, his own mindset had been focused on another. Business was business and things needed to be attended to.
As if on cue a knock sounded at the door. Maldrek stored documents quickly and turned the desk top over as if he was studying a map of trade routes.
"Enter," he said. The door slid open and a Cherek walked in.
"A report from the trial gameroom sir." He said as he handed over the documents. "Anything else before I retire for the evening?"
Maldrek quickly skimmed the pages. Then taking out several blank parchments he jotted down a few directions on each he turned to the weary messenger.
"Chose three trustworthy riders, one to Mal Zeth, one to Sendar, one to the Nyssians and you may take the last to Boktor in the morning since it’s the closest you can rest tonight." Maldrek waved his hand in dismissal and the man left. Sighing he turned the desk back around, took out the paper to try and figure out where the other leaders of the clan had gone.

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Illness
A soft glow from what’s left of a small candle lights the face of the studying Nadrak. Furrowing his brow he peers intently at the documents in a rash attempt that the words would make some sort of sense.
"Send in the Nyssian again! " he bellowed to the door. The door opens and a man enters. He is completely hairless and wears free flowing robes. As he begins to speak a small lisp can be heard.
"You ssent for me?" He began.
"Yes Sthal, are these conclusions accurate? Could the mortality rate be this high?" Maldrek continued, "You know the signs we saw, passing out, dizziness, coughing up blood."
Sthal nodded slowly. " Coughing of the blood is a bad sign, but not the worst, perhaps it was caught in time and will be healed fully. It will take some time though. The best case is that he will walk with a slight limp, the disease cripples the feet and legs first then works its way up the body." Maldrek sighed, thanked Sthal and turned back to the other important reports on his desk. Sifting through them he selected one. Ah the next season crop prices
... And only a month before the general release date. How fortunate. His thoughts begin to drift away from his stricken friend, there is a profit to be made.

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Hassles of moving
Maldrek stared across the bow of the ship as the sun sets. Home is getting closer, he can almost make out some familiar forms of coastline. It has been almost two weeks since he was informed of the new office opening in Melcene. It wasn’t that difficult of a job really. All the products were shipped beforehand. Supervision was what really needed to be done. Maldrek grumbled loudly remembering the troubles in communication. Whose bright idea was it to hire Thulls? Probably Czrel .... He might be sick but his sense of humor is warped as always.
"You there ... Thull.. "
"Huh."
"Take these carpets to the second floor third door on the left. "
Blank stare... "Huh?" <points to carpets> "Carpets..." < points to stairs> " Upstairs.... Go ... Now..."
The Thull then begins to haul the carpets upstairs.
What a nightmare that was . Well back to the clan hall to see what else can be moved at a nice profit. Almost home now. Maldrek leaves the deck in search of an ale bucket that needs to be drained.

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Reports
Travelling was beginning to wear on Maldrek. As if sea travel wasn’t enough, the long bumpy ride along the Northern Caravan Route was even worse. The hard summer sun had made drinking water in short supply. Before leaving Yar Nadrak, he corrected the selling price for water accordingly. Buying out the competition and raising the price to make a better profit.
Riding in the wagon he thought of his fellow merchants, Czrel was he still sick, and Khuldir probably looking after him. Reidia, probably travelling with Ordici still (he probably is still the one who posined Czrel) Fasus, travelling the world collecting rare pieces to make an even larger bank roll. The rest probably taking exams at the academy or off on some other Merchant business. Vilandra, why was she hard to forget. Lately it seems that any thoughts have her in them. It’s quite bothersome. Maldrek opens his pouch at his side and looks at the small ivory figurine. It’s a long shot, but I love to take chances so why not.
The thoughts seemed to make the journey go faster. Before he knew it, they had pulled into Boktor. He jumped off the wagon and went directly into a nearby shop. Using the back room to freshen up a bit. Once happy with his appearance, he quickly strode to the Merchant clan hall. With his normal flourish he walked boldly into the main hall where several were talking among themselves. He searched all the faces most seemed generally glad to see the Nadrak though one set of eyes, those he was most eager to see were hard and cold. After short conversations with everyone, Maldrek goes to his office to file his report. While on his way he meets Vilandra after a few fleeting attempts to humor and flirt, she cuts him off sharply and leaves him standing there with his mouth wide open. He glances down at his pouch, then opens the door she came out off. Working quickly so not to get the worse end of another verbal beating, he places the ivory figurine on her desk and quickly leaves.
Entering his own chamber, fashioned after his favorite tavern in Yar Nadrak, he sits at his desk thinking things over wondering what he could have done different. He begins to write his report. Czrel, still looking weak, enters and they discuss the new office in Melcene, the staggering water prices, and clan affairs. Czrel, still coughing, leaves Maldrek to finish his report.

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Inquiries
Maldrek sighed as he sat in his chair facing out the window. What else could he do? Compliments don’t work, trying to show my worth is not working. He spotted her going across the market place in a hurry, approaching the fur traders shop. An idea sprang to mind. Gathering up some things and his coin purse, he rushed out into the square.
Hiding in wait till she left the shop, Maldrek quickly formed the rest of his plan. The door creaked open and she stepped out into the light. What a sight to behold. As she entered the clan hall again, Maldrek strode forth purposefully and entered the Traders shop.
“Zelreg, my good man. I have come in search of a favor.” Maldrek then shakes his hefty purse.
“What is it you need, buy or sell?”
“Neither actually A woman came in here, Nadrak, amethyst eyes, you know her?
“Possibly? If the price is right.” Maldrek throws down a few coins. “Yea, she’s a regular, accompanies a fur shipment to the Sendar fair...”
“Good, I wish to go with her on this dangerous journey.... I dont know she looks like she can handle herself.....” A few more coins hit the counter... Zelreg's eyes grow wider....
“But alas she only allows herself and the wagonmaster ......” A few more coins clink to the counter....
“Then I shall be the wagonmaster...” The last of the purse is emptied.... “Use this to buy what you need, make sure you get me some heavy robes, I’ll decide when to let her know who I am.... Maldrek reaches in his pouch and pulls out a fairly good size gem. “And this should buy your silence.”
Maldrek left the shop and blended quickly into the shadows. Once back inside he attempts to act like he was there all along. He notices Vilandra in the distance talking to Chrye and smiles to himself.

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The chase is on
Fate was playing cruel joke on him today. As soon as he appears back into the clan hall, Vilandra marches up to him eyes ablaze. He flashed her a smile.
"Hi," he said.
"Hello," she replied shortly. "Can I have a word with you?"
Maldrek was a bit startled, perhaps because she'd never asked to speak with him before but then regained his composure quickly and nodded. She was tough to figure out. Did she know where the figurine came from? Did she suspect his motives all along? He knew it was a thin line he was treading. A false move or statement would find him at the business end of a very sharp dagger.
He led her to his office and when she was seated shut the door. "What's up?" He said casually. "I've been carrying on a trade of furs between here and Gar Og Nadrak and I've decided that I'm going to extend this and take part in the annual Sendar fair. I've got a good supply of wagons ready and I plan to make the trip there along with them." She cleared her throat. "I'll be leaving tomorrow for it'll take us a good three weeks to make it to Sendar and then we'll have plenty of time to set up in the week that is remaining."
Maldrek leaned back slightly in to his chair and was trying not to show the happiness of his plan unfolding. Then he noticed Vilandra give him a strange look. "Stupid," thought Maldrek, "Never let you feeling show on your face." It’s a basic rule but with her in his presence its one that is easily forgotten.
She continued. "I should be back in about two months if things go well. I'll be in touch so I'll provide all the information about how it's going. I just thought I'd inform you since Czrel's sick and Reidia's away." Maldrek noticed how she stressed on the last sentence." She’s making sure I understood why she was doing this. "Well, that's about it. I'll see you soon then." She finished then rose and let herself out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Maldrek smiled. Things were going better then he had hoped. Maldrek turn to one of his many wardrobe closets and fished out some wagoneer clothes. A set of unerrobes to bulk up his person. He wouldn’t want to be too recognizable. On his last thought he grabbed the face shield the covers everything except the eyes. Protection against dust, wind, sun, and in this case, recogition.
Walking down the corridor he knocked at Czrel's door. "I’ll be gone on urgent business for a couple of months possibly. It’s to the south but I wont bore you with the details." Maldrek began. Czrel finished his tonic and nodded slowly. "Well, I usually know how to find you if you are needed. Go .. And .. Maldrek... Happy hunting, its dangerous prey you seek. I hope you know what you are doing." Maldrek closed the door with a chuckle. He always seems to know what’s going on, even when you didn’t want him to. With that he head to the wagoneers to prepare for a long, productive, journey.

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The wagoneer
Kavell was tighting the cinches on the horses when he heard the voice, "Is everything ready to go?" The familiar voice of Vilandra asked in her business like tone. Zelreg nodded and then pointed in his general way. Time to get into character. Kavell fervently cleaned the wagon, making a big show of polishing all the metal. "That one is for you to travel in," Telreg told her. He whistled sharply and kavell looked up and walked up to meet them. Time to see if this disguise would work. Vilandra blinked, as Kavell watched her trying to place them in her mind but thankfully Zelreg distracted her by continuing, "Kavell here will be your wagon master. He's pretty reliable." Zelreg thumped him on the back. "Show the lady where to keep her bags." He said to Kavell. Kavell glared at him and Zelreg just gave a wink.
Kavell looked at her again, his eyes lingering on her this early in the morning and still is a sight to behold. He then motioned her to follow. Vilandra did just that. Kavell tried to be a gentleman and he reached over to take the bag from her but she shook her head, making it clear that she was capable of carrying her own. Kavell just smiled at her hoping that the scarf would cover any knowing expressions. She heaved her bag into the open back of the wagon when they had reached it and then climbed in her self. There were two small bunks by the sides of the wagon, possible the most uncomfortable in the west. Kavell noticed her taking in the grim picture and sigh as she resigned to her task. She pulled herself into the wagon.
"So we'll be leaving in half an hour?" He heard her say as he snapped back to the present. ‘Damn,’ he thought, ‘I’m starting to slip.’ He had been watching her, a little too closely. Looking away, Kavell replied,
"Yeah, as soon as the last supplies from the warehouse arrives we'll be off." He wanted to disguise himself more so he gave his speech a slight lisp. Vilandra nodded and leaned against the wooden wall. ‘Well I guess that did the trick,’ Kavell thought. He took his leave for a while. The get up was hot so he went around the back of the building to remove a few layers. Getting some water and fanning himself for a few moments, only to reappear when it was time to go. Hitching the horse to the wagon, he took the reins and started at a canter. Vilandra he noticed was already regretting it with the pained look on her face in about half an hour into the travel.
"Hopefully the Great Northern Road will be smoother," she muttered to herself. Kavell laughed at that.
"You can't count on that," he lisped and then turned to look at her. "Tolnedrans are famous for their highways but not for keeping them that smooth." Vilandra frowned. Kavell felt the slip.
That last sentence but that look that she gave him, disappointment and then a faint smile. He couldn’t help it again lost in thought of her. He brooded over the incident hoping it didn’t give him away. He looked away and back at the road.
Glancing back, he noticed her shrug and then reach over for her bag. She took out her blue pouch. Slipping out the ivory elephant he had given to her without her knowledge. Was she wondering where it could have come from? How would she react if she knew it was from him? Back the road, then back to her his eyes trying to focus. She was tracing the intricate lines with her fingers. Kavell noticed her close her eyes. A small smile touched her lips, he looked back to the road for a few minutes. When he glanced back she was fast asleep. Kavell slowed the wagon slightly to give it less bounce and avoided the big ruts, allowing her to sleep. How will she react when she finds out that Kavell is really no one and Maldrek is driving these wagons…?

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The road most travelled
Better then expected? Maldrek was thinking. The travel to Sendar was accomplishing just what he set it out to. He glanced back at his passenger. Sleeping peacefully it appeared. Now a week into the journey they had come closer then he had planned. His first thoughts were just to get to know her, to find out what it was about her that made him feel this way. Several times during their stops she would even ask for him to sit with her. They would talk a little and laugh a little. "They" of course were Vilandra and Kavell. He was still pondering how she would react when the truth was finally revealed when he heard a shout.
"Kavell! Look out" Vilandra's cry pierced the air along with another familiar sound the buzz of an arrow. The arrow lodged into the seat back of the wagon, a little to close to where he was seated. Instinctively he reached for his daggers, but with the disguise, nothing came to hand. Vilandra was quicker and whipped a dagger into a nearby tree. A muffled groan and the drop of a bow signified the aim was true. Three men rushed the wagon from the nearby cover. The men, unkempt and worn. Smiled toothlessly.
"Now don’t be trying any more heroics, pretty. We've got seven more men with bows trained right at your hearts." The heaviest of the three spoke. "Come on down off that wagon we are here to collect the tax." The men started to approach slowly and wielded small cross bows. "Toss your purses in front of you and step back to the wagon." Kavell and Vilandra both complied tossing small bags of money to the ground.
As the robbers came forward on recognised the other potential offerings of the Nadrak female. Brashly, he stepped forwards and put his arm around the non-responsive Vilandra. "Don’t we make a great couple, eh?" which drew laughter from the other two and a hidden dagger from the person of Vilandra. The man’s laughter was interrupted when a startled expression crossed his face and his hands with splashed with his own blood. The dagger now drawn back to her ear sped forward and into the neck of a second target. With two down and one to go Kavell obtains his dagger from his belt and takes one step towards the remaining assailant.
Pain erupts through his thigh. Turning quickly Javell finds that another attacker has silently crept up behind him and Vilandra while distracted by the main voice. The gruff leader sensing victory rushed forwards with a smile on his face. Kavell dropped to his good knee, fired his dagger into the previously hidden attackers abdomen, and in a fluid motion took the attackers dagger from his leg switched momentum and rose back to his feet now facing the rushing thief. The thief obliged and ran his belly right onto the awaiting steel where the then fell backwards still smiling as he crumbled to the earth.
Panting, Kavell turned to check on Vilandra. She was rummaging through the belongings of the attackers. "They appear to be regular thieves, not part of any clan." She sighed. "Look at all this crap, it’s worthless, let’s drag the bodies to the side of the road." Kavell looked intently at the tree that housed the bowman. "No luck there either, the bowman jumped down and took off after I gutted the one who touched me, Now I have to bath, this smell will be hard to get off." Vilandra kicked one of the corpses in disgust. "How’s the leg?" she inquired.
"Itsth will be fine. Itsth not the firsth thime, I’ve been cut." Kavell winced as he could feel the forced tongue slip here and there, trying hard to concentrate. Maldrek thought that it sure would be funny to have himself discovered dead next to these thieves just because of his boldness. Back in character he forced his thoughts.
Kavell helped Vilandra remove the corpses from the clearing and set back to the wagon. They mounted and went a few more leagues to leave the bodies behind. They stopped for the night at an encampment of several other wagon teams. Kavell sat apart form the gathering rebandaging his wounded leg. He looked up to see Vilandra staring at him.
"Gandahar must be nice this time of Year," she spoke very softly, her eyes piercing.
"It’s very humid, if thatsth what you call niceth," Kavell replied.
" Which religion is it that requires you to wear your wagoneer garb at al times?" she asked him. It was the best excuse he could think of at the time. ‘Man she really clouds my judgment,’ he thought, that’s a stupid excuse.
"One of the Dalith religonth, m'lady,’ he answered, hoping she didn’t know much about the Dals or their religions. "We musth be covered at all timeth."
She handed him a chunk of bread and ham and went to join the other merchants sitting by the fire. He stole once last glance at her as she walked away and noticed that she looked back at him. What was she thinking now...? What would she think later…?

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The truth
Maldrek cursed under his breath. How could he let the excitement of the game overtake his emotions? The clinking of gold changing hands, the uttered curses of those swindled, then the overly large Cherek that sought to take advantage of Vilandra. Enough was enough. He stepped into action getting the price he wanted. As the deal was completed he looked over to Vilandra with a satisfying grin pasted on his face, one that quickly vanished as she scrutinized his actions and motives.
"I-I didn't know you could do that," she said finally, her cool eyes starting right into him.
"Neither did I," Maldrek finally stumbled to say.
Time was up, he didn’t want this to go on any longer, she had to know the truth. Kavell was no one, made up, fictitious. It was Maldrek that gave him life. "We need to talk." Maldrek began as they walked to their appointed spot. She nodded probably sensing something was amiss. As they reached the spot and began unpacking the wagons Maldrek tried at conversation again.
"Vilandra, you need to know something." He began. She set the box down that she was moving and looked at him expectantly. "This is hard.. I’m not sure where to begin..." He stammered. About this time a porter approached Vilandra awaiting instruction. Maldrek waved his hand tell telling her to continue with business that he could wait. The rest of the evening went the same way. Every chance he had to talk to her there was some sort of interruption. IN frustration Maldrek gave up and retired to his tent. A short while later he heard someone call his name softly. He quickly dressed and opened the flap. Vilandra was there and she looked as if she had been crying. "Kavell, I need someone to talk to.
Maldrek slides on his wagon gear quickly and steps outing to the moonlight. They walk to the edge of the fair in silence. She begins to tell him more of her troubled past. Something has reminded her of things she has chosen to forget a long time ago. Maldrek starts to feel uneasy. Her trust in him is what he wanted and that has happened, but its Kavell she is talking to, or perhaps does she know already. Not wanting to upset her more, Maldrek keeps his silence about his identity and listens to her. He silently puts his arm around her and she doesn't not pull away. He stares into the distance, listening to her, and wanting her even more.

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The road... again
The morning appeared as the soft sun rose above the small hills. Almost cheerfully the day started, and for one who wished it wasn’t so cheerful. Maldrek, sat on the already loaded wagon, reflecting on the past few days events. Vilandra’s suspicions have subsided, but Maldrek’s own were starting to grow. And what was that last night, he thought, a close moment. One he even felt jealousy for? The way she looks at me.. No not me... Kavell, who’s played by me.. What if she falls for him the way I want her to fall for me. That was the whole point of this was to get to know her better and her me. I just was tired of the cold shoulders and the hard stares. What is it about me that she just doesn’t like, how have I wronged her? These thoughts ran over and over in his mind.
"Got the wagon loaded already?" A soft voice called up to him. Maldrek looked down and stared. The morning sun highlighted her hair which was down across her shoulders. A smile was on her lips and her eyes seemed to glow.
"Yesth.. I could not sthleep lasth night." Maldrek replied with Kavell's lisp. He reached down to offer a hand up into the wagon. Instead of the normal cold look, she took his hand in hers and accepted the help. "To Sthendar then," he said quietly, as he snapped the reins and the wagon started to move. The mooring passed by mostly in silence, Maldrek stealing glances at Vilandra every so often. She sat at an angle to him softly chewing on one of her fingers, she seemed to be thinking about something.
The conversations began with only a few words and a few short responses, but gradually built up to laughs and awkward silences. Maldrek had found out that Vilandra was an orphan growing up on the streets, till she was taken in by a retired dancer and was taught the craft. She was taught very well. She chronicled her history of being bought and sold, no details, just the sad history of experience.
Maldrek, instead of making up a background for Kavell, he told her about his own. His mother moving around a lot, not knowing who is father was, just the man who beat him up for the slightest reasons. His mother telling him the was a family secret, that Maldrek, instead of making up a back ground for Kavell, he told her about his own. His mother moving around a lot, not knowing who is father was, just the man who beat him up for the slightest reasons. His mother telling him the was a family secret, that he was part of, but when he was older she would tell him, but she never made it that far. She had died soon after; a Nadrak really wanted her so he took her and then ended her when he was finished.
Then how he loved this woman once, but she didn’t not return the love, or even act as if he existed. How he wanted to reach for her so bad. His thoughts played hard on him and most of his sentences trailed off almost inaudible. He looked over to her and small lines of tears appeared on her cheeks. Neither spoke much till they came over the hill leading to the gates of Sendar.
"Well we made it this far, I hope going home will be much easier" Kavell said, not even bothering with an accent. Vilandra nodded and wiped her face preparing herself for business.

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A chance meeting
The instructions were simple. Maldrek just hoped that it would have the desired result. What a chance meeting. Fereia, just happened to be travelling back from Nyissia with Medicine for Czrel. Maldrek thought of the note he sent:

Czrel, I know you did the honorable thing in buying Vilandra, Please take 700 gold from my savings as repayment for her. I know that you tried to refuse her collar, and she has not worn it since. Please place the collar in her room. With this note... Vilandra, “You are what you are today because of what happened. And take it from me, everyone's proud of what you have become." "You're strong, you're brave and above all that you're compassionate." "Now, also you are free, never to be owned by any man, no need for collars even if not worn. It is your life, make it normal, surround yourself with people that love and care for you, have a family, be free." " I do this out of love and respect for you." "Maldrek"

Maldrek then sighed. They were so close last night, damn that man, for interrupting. Now he hoped that Vilandra didn’t suspect anything from seeing him and Fereia talking. She will know soon enough, then it’s a matter of how much she will hate, or perhaps she will see my motives are nothing backhanded. Maldrek continued to walk through the different pavillions, Nadrak, Drasnian, and a few Tolnedran. The fair will be closing in another day or two. Now its timing, when is the best time to tell her the truth...
Maldrek wrestled with the idea as he walked back to thier own set of tents. Quietly he entered, all was quiet and the tent void of people save one female Nadrak. She was sitting in a chair, facing the tent flaps. So exhausted that she did not even seem to waken when he entered. Coats haphazardly placed on the tables with a few dangling arms to the earth. Maldrek put some order to them, refolding the coats so they would be presentable come morning opening. He took the last coat and softly covered Vilandra's sleeping form.
He whispered to her as he placed the coat.. "Soon, It will all be clear, you will see that it was me all along, You are a perfect thief, you stole what I would allow no one to get close to .. My heart." With that he retired to the back tent and drifted off to sleep.

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Drunk
Maldrek drank deeply from the cup. He lost count on how many times he had filled it up. The light was bright from the fire and the rhythmic clapping became more intense with each drink. He was not paying attention to the dancers before him, he suspected that they were very good. Most Nadrak females were and the crowd seemed to appreciate their actions. His thoughts were clouded, Vilandra, yet again, dominated his mind. What was he going to do about this situation. He was reasonably sure that she had seen him and Fereia talking. He also suspected that she was starting to have some sort of attraction to Kavell. He took another drink.
A rustle rose from the crowd. A familiar figure slid into the centre of the circle wearing a dark black robe. Maldrek stared until his eyes met hers. Startled a bit into a quiet soberness he gazed at her as her robe slid to the dusty ground. She wore a shear purple dress. Breathtaking and heartbreaking. How Maldrek desired to be with her. She started to dance. Her eyes never left his as Maldrek felt his cheeks start to burn as he realized she was doing this for him.
Still a little drunk, he walked forward and picked up her robe from the ground and covered her with it. "There's no need for that." He could tell she didn’t understand him with the lisp and the slur. What was he thinking when he developed the accent for Kavell? "Go back now, you don't belong here." He patted her lightly on the back and pushed her gently.
Vilandra frowned as he spoke these words, he could tell she was upset over the comment.. She misunderstood, he just wanted to reassure her that she didn’t need to dance for approval didn’t need to dance to be sold, to be taken care of, he would do that without the tempting dance, out of love and respect. She turned quickly and grab his cup from him, strode over to the barrel, refilled and took a long drink before handing it back to him. The crowd roared with approval. He and
Vilandra went and sat side by side and watched the other dance the night away.

Morning broke brightly a few hours later. Maldrek's head pounded. Memories of the night were slim and hard to come by. He remembers the first part easy enough. The fire, the drinking, of Vilandra dancing then more drinking.. The rest.. A fog.... He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to shake off something that was nagging at the back of his mind. Did he finally admit who he was and why he pretended to be Kavell?
His fingers on his left hand snagged as he ran it through. He glanced at his hand. A ring was on his finger... The wrong finger...
He looked at the gold band as a dozen questions filled his mind. The room began to sway. Panic was seting in.. What had he done.. How would he explain this to Vilandra.. This was the worst time to do anything stupid. He held his head in his hands and he felt movement at his side. A tangle of dark hair was all that was visible beneath the blankets of the bed. He stood quietly hoping not to disturb the girl and make a clean getaway. He found his clothes on the floor and gathered up the wagoneer robes that distinguished Kavell. He put them on hurriedly, then noticed something that brought his world further around his ears. A shear purple dress lay at the foot of the bed.
Oh gods, this is who he wanted to marry, but not how. She must think that I am Kavell.... To all hells what am I going to do .. Maldrek slowly eased to the doorway. He adjusted the headdress into place and started to turn. He stopped when he heard a soft voice call out.
"Kavell, my husband, leaving so early?" He turned to see Vilandra barely covered looking at him expectantly.

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The return
Maldrek, confused and bewildered, folded the unsold cloaks and placed them into boxes. The rest of the camp were taking down the camp and making ready to leave. The questions keep coming. Where was Vilandra, why are we leaving a day early? The frieght boxed up, Maldrek turned to a Murgo and handed over the bill of lading. He didn’t like Murgos but this was business, plus it was a decent profit for the out of season cloaks. The Murgo reluctantly handed over the gold, since it was standard gold instead of the red gold the Murgos preferred. Maldrek turned to help with the final preparations as the Murgo clapped his hands and several broadbacked Thulls moved in to take charge of the crates.

What a whirlwind night it was. Drunk, then married, then the truth comes out and all hell breaks lose. Maldrek had seen Vilandra mad, but not quite as mad as she was. Never once has she just left an objective behind. Which made him wonder where she was and if she had calmed down a bit. Perhaps she was returning to the clan hall. The packing went uneventful for the remander of the day. About dusk the set off for the clan hall. Maldrek thought often of Vilandra, how happy she was when he was Kavell, the laugh, the toss of her dark hair, the dancing. He looked thoughtfully at the ring he gave Vilandra and she hurled back at him. An Idea struck him. He pulled the wagons to a stop and gathered his horse. Shouting instructions to the rest of the porters, he jumped into the saddle and rode forcefully back to the clan hall. Three sleepless nights stopping only to rest his horse and eat a bite, Maldrek finally made it back to the clan hall. He raced up the stairs and quickly looked around. No one was in sight. He knocked quietly on Vilandra’s door, getting no response he opened it and stole a quick glance inside. The chain and collar were on the bed, as well as the gold that was ever paid for her. Beside it, he placed the remainder of the gold from the cloak sales, a parchment that outlines she now owns half of everything that people know Maldrek owns. And the amethyst wedding ring. With a sigh, he gathered himself and left the room to get much needed rest in his quarters.

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