3rd of Ymiden 719
The streets of Westguard were foggy in the morning, gray and monotone. There was little in the way of noise, and a feeling of malaise hung over the dreamless city. Woe walked along the streets, with no particular destination in mind. He'd been discharged from the militia, for wrongfully attacking a man. Although he'd been provoked, there was no arguing with the removal from his post. And he understood, he'd lost his senses.
So as he went, he thought more on his situation, and what he might do to make ends meet. His small house on the outskirts of town would provide good shelter, but he needed something for the everyday expenses. Something to keep him going and give him purpose. Purpose that was eluding him the more he lingered in this city.
Woe felt a tug at his belt, and then, purely by accident, a child tripped over his foot. His head snapped around toward the interloper. It appeared to be a long-haired, blonde little boy. Woe was going to turn around, and go on his way, until his hand fell to his belt where it'd been tugged, and found his coin purse missing!
The boy was on his feet almost immediately, and began bolting down the side alleys.
Woe, realizing that he'd been pickpocketed, shouted wordlessly and gave chase. His feet took him farther than the shorter legs of the child, but he was able to make turns easier than Woe, and so was able to gain ground that way.
Thankfully, Woe knew these streets well enough that he could navigate and drive this child over toward a dead end, easily. All it would take was a bit of awareness of what the child's fear would lead him to.
As he rounded corner after corner, the child was gaining ground, beginning to outpace him. before the child could leave his view entirely, Woe reached out to catch the child in his web, so he would be vaguely aware of his surroundings.
So as he entered the poorer sections of the city. The slums of Westguard weren't as expansive as greater cities, but they were as full to the brim of corruption, crime, and ignomy as any other city's analogue. Woe slowed his pace, as the child had long ago lost him. He began walking, trying to reach out his awareness to the child's impressions of his surroundings. The child was frightened, that much was for certain, so he knew they must be nearby and not out of the clear yet.
The child was in a dusty place, quiet, dark. Woe looked over the scene, trying to gauge the child's reaction as his eyes fell upon any prime hiding spots that might fit the bill.
When at last, they alighted on a wooden crate in the corner, with it's lid pried open, he felt a pang of fear in the boy.
"Boy, I mean you no harm." Woe murmured, trying to sound reassuring, but managing only his dull monotone.
"If you come out, I'll let you keep half of what you took from me. How's that sound?" Woe tried to smile, but it looked wrong so he stopped.
After a few trills of silence, there was a rustling, and then the boy emerged from the crate, his head downcast. He held out his hand, with the nel purse sitting in it. "Sorry mister... I'm a girl by the way."
Woe shrugged as he took a few nels from the pouch, then exchanged them for the entire purse. The child's eyes widened, and then their face lit up when they realized that he was serious about letting her keep some.
"Really! Thanks!"
"Don't thank me yet. I expect you to abide my company a while. Those rags don't suit you, you'll need better clothes."
"Clothes? Why..." She seemed to hedge at the idea of following him.
"Do you want a place to stay? I have a home you can use as a hideout, when you need." Woe wasn't truly being philanthropic here, but had a purpose in mind for this girl. He saw in her, a worthy potential catspaw. A person who could help enact his plans without him dirtying a single finger. And, if he brought in a loyal member to the family, all the better.
"Uhm... Alright, I guess? How do I know you won't try to kill me as soon as I step foot in your house..." Without wasting a trill, Woe snapped his sjambok out of it's place in his belt, and struck the nel from her hand. After it went flying, he hit the ground several times before the girl could even react. "I could have swatted you into last week if I wanted to just then. Trust me or go about your own way. You can sleep under an awning, or in a real bed of your own, under a roof. Choice is yours."
This having been settled, more or less, the girl introduced herself as 'Werthom'. Thus, the two having settled their living arrangements, they went off to find a tailor.
It didn't take them long before they found the telltale spindle sign over a doorway to a shop. The place emanated scents of tobacco and potpourri. It'd do, he supposed. He felt an odd sense of familiarity about this place, yet dismissed it for now.
A bell hanging from the entrance rang the trill they stepped foot into the shop. All around, the trappings of what one would expect of a first class weavery, silks, velvets, and more common fabrics like linen and wool were on display. Woe began to wonder if he was in the right place, not having noticed any finished pieces as tailors tended to put on show.
"Mister Woe." Werthom tugged at his hand. "Can I touch those blankets?"
Woe shook his head at her, and she twisted her mouth into a pout. She would learn to leave those trappings of childish frivolity in time. Woe was certain. Werthom was already clearly advanced for her age, as he could tell from the way she handled her crime and swift getaway.
He strode up toward what served as a front counter, or else what it appeared to be. There, he knocked lightly on the surface. Then he waited.
As he waited, he watched Werthom walking beneath various displays of fabric, silks, and velvets and linens. He couldn't properly remember the last time he played around as a child. Maybe he'd never been the sort to do so. Come to that, he had hazy memories when it came to his childhood anyway, absorbed in his duties to the household of his master as he had been.
As he watched the little girl dance in and about the fabric dividers, Woe promised he'd at least do better for her, than Erastus had for him.
Finally, footsteps sounded from behind the counter. Woe turned around to meet the gaze of the woman on the other side. She was an elder, with gray in her hair and yet stood very tall for a woman. He could tell she had been handsome in her day, with thin, finely sculpted features. As she came forward, she lifted a pipe to her lips, taking a few puffs before smiling at him with half-blackened teeth. "Welcome to my shop. What can I interest you in?"
"You're a tailor, aren't you?" Woe asked, glancing to make sure Werthom was still within view. He spotted the girl sitting on the ground, playing with the silver nel she'd stolen from him.
As he spoke to the woman, he felt a familiar sense, like he knew her. Or had met her once before. He tried to remember the last time he felt that peculiar sensation. Was it in Rynmere? Yaralon?
Meanwhile, she nodded to Woe, and then stood up on her toes to spy the little girl in the corner. "Yes I am. That your girl?"
"I... Yes. Adopted daughter." He said the last part quietly, trying not to be overheard by Werthom. He didn't want the child to get any strange notions of attachment, at least not yet.
As he spoke, he remembered the last time he'd felt the strange sensation. Only twice before. Once when he'd been spared from suicide by Labrae, and another when he'd met that curious woman on the streets of Yaralon, just before he'd received the note directing him to Etzos. He thought about it for a moment. What did Labrae, the webspinner's sealed note, and this weaver have in common? What could they have in common?
He hadn't much of a chance to explore his mark yet, but was it possible through it he could sense other Lethroda? It was an intriguing prospect, and one that would make it easier to find other Webspinners with whom to network.
"Oh isn't she darling?" The old woman cooed. As she spoke, Woe tried to get a look at the bottom of her tongue, searching for the signs of the mark. If she was a webspinner, she didn't betray her knowledge of him. But that didn't mean much.
"I'm looking for some clothes for her." He said, not wanting to prolong his silence long enough to arouse suspicion. "Can you help us?"
"Why yes." She said, turning her eyes back toward Woe. She took a few more licks of her pipe, before setting it on a holder near the counter, and then crossing her arms. "What kind of outfit did you have in mind?"
"Something durable. She likes to play outside, so..."
The woman smiled, "Well, I'm sure Brigantia can fix something for the little tomboy. Just a moment, I need to check something out back..."
So she left Woe to his own devices, behind the counter, his mind racing for answers. He knew now, almost for certain, this woman was a Webspinner, or at the very least marked by his patron Immortal. He wondered about the wisdom of revealing his own mark to her. Was there any accord to be had? What did he even have to gain? Perhaps a contact, in times of trouble...
Presently, she returned to the front desk, and then nodded toward Werthom. "Can you ask the little lady if she'd like to be measured?"
Woe nodded, and was about to turn around when Brigantia placed a chilly hand on his. He turned to meet her eyes, frowning, as she asked him, "Did Mother send you, child?"
The man's eyes widened. Had he given himself away? Or did she get the same sense. Suddenly, he felt exposed, and it was not a nice feeling. "Mother? Who..."
Brigantia tsked, "I noticed the mark on your tongue child. There's no sense in hiding from an old recluse like me."
"Anyway, we can speak of such matters while my assistant fits your daughter with her clothing. If you'll join me for tea?"
Woe looked from Brigantia to Werthom, and then slowly nodded. The day was getting more interesting by the passing moment.
