Seeking Someone

Summary : Natayah Kulria, former fiancee of Falennt Sarien visits the latter's home in Shadowport where he stayed with his mentor Alric Calyndel.
Characters : Falennt, Natayah
NPCs : None
Date : 2 February 2001

The cozy atmosphere of this residence makes you relax a little bit in spite of yourself. The house is by no means luxurious, but it does seem to be made for relative comfort—something very out of place in this evil city. Your thoughts are interrupted as you hear a sound below…or did you just think you heard it? There are stairs leading down if you wish to check it out. There are also doors leading west and south if you wish to leave this house.
Exits: [south] [west] down

Falennt is cooking. The kitchen is cordoned off from the main room by a curtain of translucent sea-silk. The smell of baking fish is thick in the air. Falennt stirs a pot full of stew, totally concentrating on the whop-whop motion of the spoon.

Natayah makes her customary knock upon the door. She hears a few clanking and banging sounds as she enters. She begins to remove an old tattered shirt and hat as she unlatches the door. "What is all this noise?" she says, with a laugh. "What are you writing now, Alric?"

Falennt stops stirring the stew. The shadowy outline of his figure behind the curtain stops moving. He strides out of the kitchen, across the tiny hallway, and enters the main room, brow glistening with sweat.

Natayah runs her fingers through her hair, taking it down from the upsweep she has so carefully pinned into place to avoid anyone from seeing it. "Alric..?" she calls again.

Falennt looks levelly at Natayah. "My turuan is not around." He swipes a drop of sweat from his forehead.

Natayah turns around slowly as she hears Falennt's voice. She drops two heavy bags upon the old desk, each landing with a heavy 'thud'. "I thought you would be in practice by now."

Falennt turns from his position, and enters the kitchen again, his voice loud and clear. "No rehearsal tonight. Aldon gave everyone a week's holiday." Shrugging carelessly, he gives his attention back to the kitchen.

Natayah finishes removing the remains of her 'costume', pulling at the dirty gloves and rubbing her hands together to warm them. "What are you preparing?" She tries to sound interested in an attempt to make polite conversation.

Falennt methodically starts to slice carrots and onions, keeping a trained eye on the bubbling pot. "Dinner." He replies flatly. Throwing the chopped onions into the pot with a sudden anger, he continued "But no one's going to eat it except me, alone."

Natayah folds the tattered articles of clothing into a neat stack and lays them carefully on the couch. She then retrieves her oversized jacket, grateful for the warmth it provides.

Natayah says 'Alric isn't joining you tonight?'

Falennt looks up from his stirring, and peers over his shoulder at Natayah. "Bah. I have no idea where he went off too…."

Falennt looks at Natayah, and notices her pinched cheeks and her gratified look when she pulled on the thick jacket. "Sit there." He jerks his head towards the tiny table tucked away in the corner with a few stools around it. "I will get you something warm."

Natayah pulls out a small glass bottle and pours a thick liquid upon her hands. She massages the liquid in to her dry, cracking hands, smiling as the moisture softens her skin.

Natayah strides over to the table, hopping up on the stool to avoid much argument. She glances now and again back out the door or window, wishing she could find a vendor to buy her dinner from rathe than spend the evening with Falennt.

Falennt puts a steaming mug of dark tea onto the table heavily. "No one will be selling anything tonight." He looks at Natayah, as if echoing her thoughts. "Sharp Friday. All the thieves are given free reign to roam tonight."

Natayah places the glass bottle on the table and pushes it in his direction. "It is made from fats and oils.. if you would like some." She stares back out the door again. Even thieves might be friendlier company.

Natayah rests her head on one hand, and begins to tap her fingers on the table with her free hand. "This city is certainly dry and cold. How did you ever learn to adjust to it?"

Falennt drags out a stool and sits down. He stares at the glass bottle in front of him. "Adjust? I have no idea, it seems I have always been fine in this climate."

Falennt says 'Drink that tea, it will help to warm you up. '

Natayah lifts the cup to her mouth. A sip of the hot tea tells her it is still too warm for her to drink comfortably. Blowing it a few times to cool the drink, she returns the mug to the table.

Falennt eyes you silently, his black gaze lingering on the mug, before lifting up to look at Natayah. Behind him, the soup bubbles quietly, filling the tiny kitchen with a delicious scent.

Natayah looks at the variety of pots, pans, and ingrediants seeming to fill this part of the house. "I will most likely return to the markets again tomorrow. If there is anything I can bring home for you -" She smiles again.

Falennt 's mouth twitches, apparently unadjusted to this sudden show of friendliness by Natayah. He relaxes his tight stance slightly, placing his hands on his thighs and turns to stare out of the half-opened window.

Natayah offers Falennt what little information she can remember for her last conversation with Alric. "He said he would be returning to the Lagoon this morning. I hadn't expected him to leave that soon though. Or not alone anyway."

Falennt fixes a stare on you. A tiny awkward twist of a smile appears on his face. He chokes a little, voice draining off weakly. "He didn't tell me."

Natayah looks down into the mug, pleased to see less steam circling up into the air. Before she takes a drink, she spends a long moment staring at her reflection. "I am sure he would have told you. I think he only decided right before he went to sleep."

Falennt 's gaze drops to stare at the worn floorboards. "He didn't. He stopped telling me things these days." There was a despairing note in his voice. "I don't know why…"

Natayah returns the mug to the table, her webbed fingers still clasped tightly around the handle of her cup. "There are no mirrors anywhere.." She breaks her thought and looks at Falennt. "You are very fond of your.. 'tuuan'?"

Falennt hears the pot bubble loudly and pop. He moves to the stove and removes the lid. Thick steam curls up into the air immediately. As he stirs, he asks, almost mumbling into the pot. "You want to eat?"

Natayah has a bit of trouble with the pronunciation of 'turuan'. Its still a new word to her. "That would be nice." She tries to sound as friendly as she can, but her voice is still a little strained and hesitant.

Falennt ladles out two bowls of soup. Carefully, he places the fish casserole on the table, together with a basket of black rye bread. He sets a well-polished silver spoon and fork infront of Natayah, after which he sits down.

Falennt says 'If you want more, just ask.'

Natayah tries to balance the spoon in her hands, but her grasp of it is not firm. It is a spoon designed for human hands. "How long have you known him?" she asks while awkwardly stirring her soup.

Falennt closes his eyes and places his palms together upwards, his lips murmuring He glances at you after finishing his prayer, and at once noticing your discomfort with the cutlery. "You are not comfortable with using that?" He asks, carefully ignoring and avoiding Natayah's question.

Natayah fumbles and the spoon slips from her hands, its long handle clanking against the bowl. She frowns a little and retrieves it, stirring her soup again.

Natayah says 'I was much better with my use of human tools when my Father regularly entertained Outsiders on the island above. It has been several months.'

Falennt stands up and pulls open a drawer, taking out a spoon and fork fashioned for sea-elven hands. "I am sorry." He places the new set on Natayah's side of the table. "I am used to the human ones."

Falennt says 'We have to eat in taverns and bars when the theatre is on the road. It forces us to get used to it.'

Natayah gives a grateful nod and quietly sips at her soup. "Have you been with the theatre long? I really know very little of entertaining, though I used to watch actors and such quite often."

Falennt sits down again, starting on his meal. He looks listless, mechanically moving the spoon from the bowl to his mouth, and to the bowl again.

Falennt says 'Hard life.'
Falennt says 'For all the glitter and glint you see. '
Falennt says 'My turuan works very hard. Aldon wants him to write new plays, almost every week. Each city we travel to, they have different tastes. Some like new things, some like old things. We have to consistently keep up with them.'

Natayah lays the spoon on the table and pushes the bowl a few inches away from her. Clasping her hands as they rest on they table, she listens.

Natayah shifts a little in her seat. Something hard hits against her side. "The book! He forgot the book.."

Falennt stops speaking. He puts all his attention to his food, shovelling it into his mouth again. He doesn't even budge or raise an eyebrow upon Natayah's exclaimation.

Natayah looks very nervous. "He left without the book. It will do him no good if he is going to see Zenallyn without it." Realizing she could never hope to find her way back to Mathlann alone, she looks at Falennt directly.

Natayah says 'We must leave at once to catch him. You know the way?'

Falennt stares out of the window, at the dark sky. "The Gates are all locked." He replies, voice flat. "Moreover, there are the guard dogs on the other end."

Natayah pulls a few small tools from one of the many pockets inside her jacket. "That is no problem for a Merchant and an Actor." She grins.

Falennt nearly laughs at what Natayah pulled out. "These are the Gates of Shadowport, City of Thieves…." He laughs again, not a merry laugh, but with an eerie ring to it. "You think with those paltry tools you can leave tonight?"

Natayah shrugs and throws them down on the table. "We leave in the morning then." She picks up her spoon and returns to her dinner, very eagerly awaiting the morning hours.

Falennt smothers his laughter and returns his attention to the meal. "Eat, it will be very cold tonight. Very." He almost snickers into the bowl, his eyes moving to fall upon the mug of tea she drank. And there was a laughter in his dark, black gaze.

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