Trïeste
The Grey Crown, The Grasping Isle
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/876104022833127448/1086628626482593902/zoltan-tasi-eS1omi9_W58-unsplash2.jpg]
Photo by Zoltan Tasi, Unsplash Licence
Wiping the sweat off her brow, Trïeste put her mortar and pestle next to her pack and looked down at the fruits of her hard work, leaning against the trunk of her conveniently placed pine tree. Before her, neatly stored in an array of glass pots and cloth bags, stood an impressive collection of salves and powders. A great help on their journey for sure. Some healing salve with precious aloë vera extract in case things got hairy, two doses of precious anti-toxins, and even some alchemical poultices, courtesy of a friendly merchant they’d met on the road while she had been travelling with Rove and Ayuen. Ayuen had even paid for her expenses. Couldn’t get any better for an alchemist. Enough ingredients to brew and plenty of people that were willing to be on her brew’s receiving end. Even so, she’d made something that should come in handy if things got hairy for her. It was time to gather everything up though. It should get rather dark soon.
The Vysari’s eyes wandered to an open satchel with a brown powder on it. Carefully and slowly, she closed up the satchel, careful not to let any of the powder get blown out by the wind. It would be rather dangerous if that happened. Better be safe than sorry, as the saying went.
“So what is missy Trïeste doin’?” Asked a raspy voice behind her suddenly. She practically jumped in surprise, barely managing to not spill the results of her precious work. She pursed her lips and whipped her head around, only to find a Sneak curiously looking at her. His face was a hand’s breadth away. With him this close, Trïeste felt her blood rushing towards her cheeks, together good heaping of annoyance. They’d gotten into some discussions the last couple of days, and what started as annoying and frustrating had slowly grown into something more amicable. At first, she just thought Sneak was being a jerk. The older man seemed to argue with her about just about everything. But as the days went on, she found out that he didn’t argue out of malice but genuine interest. She had explained many of her tasks within the group to him, such as her alchemy and healing magic and found out that it was curiosity that drove him. There was a bit of suspicion too, but Trïeste was beginning to think that might just be his nature acting up. And slowly, despite her prior objections, she had come to find it rather pleasant to explain things to him. Well, if he didn’t pull this kind of stunt and appeared to teleport everywhere without rhyme or reason.
Sneak was wearing a rather neat set of clothing now, courtesy of Rove. The Herhor had practically forced the guy to abandon his rags in favour of less damaged articles of clothing. The articles in question were a rough-spun woollen tunic and a pair of linen pants, both a dark brown colour. A broad braided rope belt held the outfit together. It was an immense upgrade from the tatters he was wearing before. Ayuen had also chipped in, having insisted on cutting his hair and making him presentable. Even if the two didn’t want to admit it, they made a great team. And they were starting to act more and more like a married couple. Hell, Rove had joined them without a contract. Everybody could see why, even if he thought he was being slick. It was cute though, honestly.
Trïeste chuckled, cleared her throat and softly shoved Sneak away.
“The usual, Sneak. Just some brewin’ and grindin’ up herbs. No need to stick your nose into the grinder, alright?” Trïeste looked at her collection of flasks with a disappointed look. “Well, not so much brewin’. More like mixin’ and extractin’. Don’t have a good distiller here.”
Sneak just nodded sagely, the man’s mad eyes darting all over her gear and bottles. “Trïeste spends a lotta time brewing each day, yes. Between fifty-three and eighty-seven minutes each day. Sneak thinks thatsa lotta work. Are them powder things and salvy things worth it?”
“Oh, you’ll be happy I’ve made them. When you’re laying on the ground with a dagger stickin’ out of your arm, you’ll praise my work.”
She made a wiggly gesture with her fingers, mouthing some quasi-magical gibberish.
“Them things let daggers disappear and go poof?”
Trïeste couldn’t help but facepalm with a smile on her face, patting Sneak on the head after.
“Not really, you silly Sneak. They make your wounds ‘go poof’. Make y’all better and stuff.”
An impressed expression crossed the man’s face, but immediately after got replaced by a look of comprehension.
“Aahhh, Sneak knows that stuff. Stuff that heals and is made with plants, yes? Sneak knows one or two kinds here in the Crown, so Sneak can help lady Trïeste! Even saw some nearby, yes!”
One other thing she had noticed about Sneak. Turned out that he had quite a spectacular array of talents. IT was just that his chaotic mindset and demeanour often got in the way. But when he had somebody to direct his madness, his keen intellect and especially his seemingly perfect memory shone through. And the latter was quite handy at the moment. At the very least, they had a perfect clock and calendar on hand. Standing up, the dust of her work fell from her wide linen trousers.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Sounds like a plan. I can use some restocking, even with my new pack. Well then, let’s get to it immediately. Lead the way! I am looking for aloë vera or snakeroot, or maybe some wild thyme. Think you can find those?”
Sneak frowned as he tilted his head in thought, then nodded slowly.
“Sneak thinks so.”
“Great, let’s go! Rove, Ayuen, Tira, I’m goin’ to get some supplies! Be right back!”
An affirmative grumpy mumble came from the other side of their camp, followed by a more lighthearted ‘Sure!’ and a chuckle from the same direction. Trïeste raised an eyebrow, smiling as she momentarily looked in her companion’s direction. The edge that Rove had at Herhor’s End had been getting less and less lately. He could probably deny that anything was going on, but he couldn’t fool them. It was just too obvious. She was making bets with herself about how long it would take for those two to end up in bed. Maybe Tira’s inclusion in their group would spur either one of them to action.
Trïeste sniggered mischievously as she turned to Sneak.
“Alright, the mister and misses have given us their permission. Let’s go!”
Their small band was currently trudging through the pine forest, long thin trees reaching all up into the sky. The brown needles crunched under Trïeste’s feet as she wrapped her wool cloak a bit tighter around herself. It was quite chilly here, not yet ‘cloud breath’ cold, but it was getting close for sure. Sneak didn’t seem to mind the cold as much, however, despite being dressed in roughly the same kind of clothing as her. Then again, Sneak didn’t seem to mind a lot. And if he minded the cold, he didn’t let it slow him down. Resolutely and without doubt, he led her deeper into the woods where the trees were standing closer and closer to one another.
“Ehm, Sneak. Y’know for sure that you’re headin’ the right way?”
“Yes, yes. Sneak knows exactly where herb is. Just trust Sneak.” Trusting Sneak was a tall order. Then again, he did recall correctly how many seconds they were travelling. If there was one person whose memories could be trusted, it would probably be Sneak’s. If you could punch through the madness around those memories.
The man stopped in the middle of a small circle of pines, a pile of avian feathers laying at the base of one of them. Seemed one bird of prey ate well today. Sneak looked at the avian remains and nodded. He was obviously able to glean more information from the feathers than she did. “Yes, Sneak and missy Trïeste are close. Went right at the moss, then left at feathers now. Only need to go straight at the crooked stick and then herbs are there, yes.”
Crooked... sticks... Well, that was reassuring. She followed close as Sneak brazenly strode on in yet another direction. Navigating on crooked sticks, moss and feathers. Getting a little worried, Trïeste looked around them through the forest, a finger slowly streaking past the handle of her dagger. Even though she was used to skulking around like this, she was still on guard. Instincts of training long past were bubbling up as her eyes drifted from tree to tree to Sneak. So many things that could go wrong, so many things that still had to be done. Still, supplies were supplies. She would be a fool not to get them while she had the chance.
Eventually, she indeed found herself face to face with the biggest number of aloë vera plants she’d seen in a long while. How Sneak had found this batch was a total mystery to her. The plants were nestled between the roots of a particularly old and big pine tree. The gnarly wooden appendages were formed around the batch of plants, almost like a protective embrace. Trïest let out an impressed whistle as she clapped Sneak on the shoulder.
“Well, sorry if I doubted you, Sneak. This is an amazin’ find. Heh, if we don’t need this, the amount of salve I can make from this will earn me a fortune. I’ll be sure to send some your way for your help after this, hehe.”
Sneak’s grin got wide and proud, his eyes glimmering frantically as he puffed out his chest and stuck his nose in the air.
“It’s nothing. Sneak just saw it on the way, that’s all.”
Chuckling at her guide’s display, Trïeste knelt on the rock- and needle-filled ground and started to collect the plants, gently snapping the aloë vera plants’ leaves as close to the soil as she could. They would grow back within a couple of weeks. Aloë vera plants only grew around two hand lengths in total but letting the main plant alive would allow it to recover. Always treat your herbs with respect, her mother had said. Her mood darkened a bit as the mental image of her mother flashed in front of her eyes. Trïeste wondered if everything was alright. The last time she saw her things hadn’t been going well, to say the least. Disastrous even. She shook her head. Had to focus on her mission. Her mother was fine, she had to be. And after this whole Ayuen and Rove business was done, she could go back home and help her mother out of her... situation.
Trïeste thoughts next wandered towards the two people that stayed at the camp. They had been travelling for a good while now, and she’d gotten a feel for their personalities. Rove was the grumpy Herhor, but also a genius with a blade and in battle. And he also hid a caring heart underneath it all that he didn’t like to show. A heart that Ayuen was slowly but ruthlessly grabbing. That’s how he looked to Trïeste. And Ayuen… Oh boy, she was something else. Under that vernier of poëtic speech, stubborn drive and knowledge, she had a certain naivety over her. It was clear that she leaned on her companions to figure out how things worked outside of her cosy writing room. But on the flip side, she’d rarely seen anyone more skilled with a bow or gun. She must have had an extensive amount of training. A naïve, sophisticated gunslinger poët. The absurdity of the thought made Trïeste chuckle a bit.
“Oh? Herbs are funny?” Trïeste turned her head a bit and she saw Sneak sitting a couple of steps away, crouching down, observing her silently. She shook her head, letting out another giggle.
“No, no. I was just thinkin’ about Rove and Ayuen. Which makes me curious…. What do you think of them, Sneak?”
“What does Sneak think of M’ster Rove and mistress Ayuen?” The man repeated, putting a finger on his lips while he pondered her question, raising his eyes to the cloud-ridden sky. “Sneak thinks both be great people. Saved somebody like Sneak. Greatest people that live, yes. That’s what Sneak thinks.”
“Greatest people that live, huh?” She turned her attention back to the herbs with a grimace. “They’re nice people to be around, that’s for sure. I like ‘em. I’m glad to have met them. Truly.”
Damn it all...
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/554030201789743105/1028654515798409237/Grasping_Isle_Final_V1.0.png]Map made by Mark Evegaars, writer of this story