Many Ways To Protect- 20th TT, Perdita

[Jadmai]

Perdita would find herself amongst the extragent houses, which the Ring held. It was odd, but as she made her way, it was if he mind had been swept clean, her concious clear, but the memories of what she did less than a tide ago, still were stagnant in her mind, they just seemed slightly surpressed.

Tradetide was a beautiful time in the Ring, many well-to-do's walked about chatting away, a few lovers could be seen holding hands, but indeed, she was at a loss: she had a name, but nothing more.

Perdita's time jump to 22th TT
There are many ways to protect, love, let us just walk awhile, just to be together, enjoy the walk. I should like to think that perhaps we might one day live happily in this art gallery of houses.

She felt fresh, and renewed, and perhaps she even glowed a little, as the men that passed her smiled politely, and removed there hats, and the women gave slight nods.

It looks as if these people see as I see you, a rose amongst wild grass, a beacon of beauty one cannot ignore. This is excellent, I feel as though I am blushing for you, my dear. A soft, gentle laugh, danced about her head. But we must not forget the greater good, love, pass by a few more and with your beautiful voice give greetings, and when you see someone who looks well informed, ask him if he knows, a man named Iorn. I am sure any good man would help out a gem, as yourself.

As if placed there just for Perdita, she spotted an adhiel who had discovered a flower fallen off it's stem. He looked upon it and smiled, putting it flush against his nose to take in it's fragrance. Then out of the corner of his eye he spotted, Perdita, and gave a slow nod, and a polite smile.

"Good tradetide to you, milady, you look stunning on this day. Here," he said offering the flower to her, "it has fallen off it's stem, it's fragrance is beautiful. You should have it, we musn't let it go to waste. Oh--my manners, excuse me, my name is Finn. And you are?"

The adhiel was rather handsome, nothing like her dear Vanir, but a polite handsome man nonetheless, dressed in fine clothes. A doublet of a deep hue of red, almost rose colored, and with identically colored hose. His long well kept bright blonde hair, accented the rosed-hued garments which he wore.

Perdita meandered her way through the streets, the large houses of those lucky enough to live in this salubrious neighbourhood casting shadows on her. It was as if everything she saw and heard simply passed through her, and the emptiness inside her made her feel as light as a breeze.

And she felt beautiful, too. There seemed to be so much love in the world, and the voice in her head was helping her to experience it. Finn seemed charming, and she asked (as directed) about Iorn, but it sadly seemed that things were not going to be that easy. He didn’t know anything, and although she was tempted to stay and flirt with him the lightness in her limbs required her to keep moving. She bid him farewell, and continued on her journey.

She wandered from the Patricians’ Ring and into the less well off areas. They were places familiar to her, but in her current state she couldn’t quite remember why. Her stomach growled violently, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten for a while…

Seeing an inn not too far off, she headed inside and ordered a bowl of soup and some bread. She ate it with a smile on her face before asking for a room. Life was certainly very sweet! And she slept deeper than she had ever slept before, and had such a strange dream…

[Perdita Faechild]

Perdita stopped by the adhiel, enchanted by the flower he offered her. She had a happy smile on her face, unfettered by worries and fears.

"Hello,!" she said breezily. "Good tradetide to you too! Gosh, what a wonderful compliment. I'm..."

Was she certain of her own name? No. But it was the only thing she had.

"Perdita, that's me. I'm trying to find someone, could you help me?"

This man seemed pleasant, which fitted in nicely with her current rose-tinted view of the world. Perhaps he would be able to accompany her on her mission.

[Grant]

"Oh, of course, my lady!" responded Finn, bowing with exaggerated grace. Pulling a cloth from his pocket, he mopped at invisible sweat upon his brow and turned to offer Perdita his arm. "We'll find what the person you seek directly! Tell me of him? I trust it is a gentleman, of course, for I can't imagine why such a lady as yourself would be seen alone at all...."

The Patrician's Ring seemed strangely...quiet. It was as if the streets themselves awaited something...some great catastrophe or storm that would break upon them at any moment. It could be felt in the air around them...a quiet patience that was both peaceful...and ominous. Finn seemed immune to this impression, though, as he turned to lead Perdita deeper into the city, walking among carefully planted flowers and trees placed alongside the broad streets and massive homes of the wealthy.

[Perdita Faechild]

Perdita slipped her arm through Finn's gladly. It felt reassuring to have another physical being close by.

"Well, sir, I can't tell you much about the man I am looking for. All I know is, he is called Iorn," she explained. "That's what we've got to go on. I know it's not much."

She gave a childlike smile at him, the heavy silence pressing in on her, but in her present state she was not able to fully register it. It was simply a cloud on her currently sunny horizon.

"Oh, gosh, but I'm not alone at all...,"

[Grant]

"Iorn, you say? That's a curious name. Very distinct and recognizable. And no last name, then? Well, we'll do what we can. You know, I wonder if the guards might know of an Iorn? Let's find out," offered Finn, as he lead Perdita forward into the streets of the Patrician's Ring. The Citadel loomed up ahead, like a small hill in the distance, it's banners and flags removed for some unknown occasion, and the tolling of it's bell carrying out all over the city. It was in this direction Finn lead her, where numerous guards protected the entrance, each wearing the black tassels and ribbons of those in mourning.

And they were not the only souls visible in the streets. While the people of the Patrician's Ring were scarce in the streets, they collected before the Citadel, staring into it's gates and craning their necks as if they were waiting for some word or news of what had happened within. The waiting crowd was diverse in it's origins, with both paupers and nobles waiting with equal curiosity at the ominous tidings that could only mean one thing.

"Seems something's afoot, my dear. Maybe we'll learn a thing or two among these people, you think? I'll go check with a guard right quick, if you'd care to glance around...see if he's in this crowd?" he asked, assuming that Perdita knew what the mysterious Iorn looked like.

[Perdita Faechild]

Perdita tried to remember if she'd been told anything else about him.

"Erm...no, I don't know a last name I'm afraid," she explained to Finn.

The mood of the city seemd sombre, and Perdita could not fail to notice the strange behaviour of those around her. Still, she had no idea what was going on, and couldn't begin to guess what it was, especially with her limited memory.

"Ah, you see...I've never met this man. I've just been asked to find him, I'm sorry, but I have no idea what he looks like. But we should find out what's happening, perhaps this Iorn is involved," she said.

[Grant]

"Aye, I'll be right back, hun...you just mingle about a bit, and I'll see what the guards know..." offered Finn before he ducked into the crowd, his common clothing and awkward style giving him to disappear almost as soon as he stepped within. Suddenly left alone on the streets, Perdita could feel several eyes upon her, curious, questioning stares that didn't last overly long but did linger long enough to travel down over her form, taking in her clothing and her shape quickly.

"Did you say Iorna, madam?" Came another voice nearby, a man wearing wealthier clothes as well as bright, flashing jewelry. "I know of an Iorna, but no Iorn. And you needn't worry that this involves her. The Caesar died last night, may the Gods bring him home. I'm waiting to see him as he passes, for that should happen before too long, I think..."

The man was rakish but stylish, with a coat of black broadcloth...for he was in mourning as well...but his wide, floppy hat was placed at a steep angle and a single, massive plume...again, dyed as black as it could be...waved in the airs over his head.

[Perdita Faechild]

Perdita nodded at Finn's request, and scanned the crowd, looking for anyone that might be able to help. If she had been in her right state of mind she might well have felt embarrassed at the stares of strangers - after all, she was still in her torn and dirty dress.

The wealthy man's voice surprised her, and she wondered who he was - somebody important, maybe?

"No, not Iorna. Iorn. Iorn...," she repeated emphatically, slightly frustrated. She turned her thoughts inwards, trying to reach her invisible companion.

I'm going to need some more help if you want me to find him she mentally pleaded. A last name? An occupation?

[Grant]

The man nodded. "My apologies, madam. No, I've not heard of such a person. I beg your pardon," he offered, with a bow and a tip of his hat, though he remained nearby in case the lady might have additional questions. It wasn't long before Finn returned, an excited look upon his flushed face.

"My lady, can you believe it? Caesar Anochrim has passed away! His majesty was overcome by the illness that held him, may the Gods receive him kindly. And the guards knew of an Iorn here in the Patrician's Ring! Iorn Thalas is his name, though the guards were unable to tell me more. Perhaps this will help you in your search?" he offered, nearly beside himself with excitement and wonder.

"Oh, I've so much to do! I must tell my family...and I must wear black myself! I only wish the guard could have given more useful information for you. I'm afraid I still don't know the name, even in full..." he trailed off, babbling to himself. At least he did speak, which was more than the strange whisper within Perdita's person. It remained silent and nonexistent, as if it had never truly been in the first place.

[Perdita Faechild]

The news of the Caesar's death had little effect on Perdita - memory of that beautiful couple just a few days before had been buried, and as far as she was concerned there were more important things to worry about.

"Ah, Iorn Thalas. Yes, that will be much more helpful!" she replied to Finn. "Now we stand a real chance of finding him."

But what was the point when the being was silent? It was a return to the feelings of helplessness and loneliness that she had experienced before. Her breathing quickened.

Are you there? Where are you? DON'T LEAVE ME!!!! You said you wouldn't, oh please, don't leave me alone! she mentally cried. Without her companion, how would she know what to do? This mental anguish made its way onto her face, and her eyes began to well with tears.

[Grant]

"Oh, now, take heart, madam! I'm here...I won't be leaving you all alone just here..." came the voice of Finn, reacting to the look upon Perdita's face that, in a strange, almost chilling way, mimicked the response she felt within, the response she had been so desperate to feel. I'm here, my love....and you're awake! it came, a warmth spreading over her body that gave it to tingle and blush as it might while making love. Once more, she could feel his hands wrapped around her waist....almost imagine warm breath upon her neck...almost taste a pair of lips...

...and he is close. I can feel him. You must give him to bring you close...you must make him seek you out. But we must learn of him. Those guards to whom the gardener spoke...they know much, do they not? reasoned the voice within. I believe in you, Perdita! Go and find one of them. Find a foolish one that might bend to your temptations easily. Lure him away and give him to speak to you. It is no shame to deceive or use those for our ends, for ours is the most noble of tasks, is it not? Send the gardener away, for he knows very little and he would not understand us...and find one of these purple-clad guards before you that will serve you...

"Milady? Perhaps I should...take you to a healer? Or perhaps...a church?" asked Finn kindly, his anxious,l flushed face gazing into hers with clear concern. Around her, the crowd seemed strangely quiet and patient despite the growing numbers.

[Perdita Faechild]

The return of her companion was very welcome to Perdita, and she revelled in its presence. It brought a smile to her face once more.

Yes...guards...good idea she thought.

Turning to Finn, she gave a sympathetic look, and shook her head.

"No, neither will be necessary. I just felt sad at the passing of our ruler. Now that I know the full name of this man, I probably won't need your help anymore, but thankyou so much for all you've done! Goodbye!"

She turned to leave, and sought out one of the guards in the crowd. Spotting a likely looking candidate, she approached him, adjusting her torn dress so that it sat a little lower on her body, and brushing her hair out of her face.

"Excuse me, sir?" she asked, in her sweetest tone. "I was wondering if you might help me."

ooc: I am away for two weeks! Sorry. I realise this puts me even more behind regarding Synch events

[Grant]

(OOC: We'll make do as best we can!)

Finn blinked at her, somewhat surprised and possibly relieved at her sudden confidence and assertiveness. He exchanged a quick glance with the nobleman nearby...the men sharing a brief thought as men most often do...before he smiled and bowed.

There were many guards just at hand, all of them clad in the same purple uniforms and carrying weapons that, according to rumor, they knew how to use passably well. Once Perdita had pushed her way through the crowds to the front, she could see where several of the guards were holding the people back to make room for the coming procession, a procession that could be almost just seen within the doors of the Citadel itself as countless guardsmen gathered in a regal formation around a hearse wagon that seemed to be made of countless flowers.

One of the guards directly before her...the one that she had spotted...was a tall, thin, youthful man with short, closely-trimmed whiskers covering his face...only a shading at that...and long, dark hair, tied back in a black ribbon. He was directing several of the Purple Guardsmen nearby, clearly their supervisor of some sort, and his thin, lean face held little emotion at all, no display of his feelings upon his full lips or his narrow, expressive, blue eyes.

Whether by fate, providence, or help from the thing within, he took notice of Perdita instantly. "My lady, I must beg you will use caution, for when the procession does emerge, there will be some movement here, and I should not like you to be pushed or inconvenienced," he said, smiling and bowing crisply. "...and I should be quite honored to help you, my lady! Ah...shall we step away such that I might hear you more clearly?" He offered, motioning them away from the crowd in general.

[Perdita Faechild]

"Thankyou, sir, for your words of advice," Perdita replied to the guard, following him as they moved away. "Yes, that's better...now we're alone..."

She batted her eyelashes.

"I'm having terrible trouble finding somebody. My brother asked me to find a Mr. Iorn Thalas for him and I just don't know where to start looking! I'm quite new to the Citadel, and it's somewhat overwhelming for a young woman like myself," she lied, lightly brushing against his arm. Hopefully he would be more useful than the other men she had encountered.

ooc: Hello, I am back!

[Grant]

Perdita's affect on the guard was profound, if one knew what signs for which to look. A pleasant smile spread over his face, his body turned a slight turn towards her, and his hands seemed uncertain of themselves, as if he didn't quite know just what to do with them. Charmed he might be, he still managed to stammer out a reasonable sentence.

"Th...Thalas? Iorn Thalas? I...believe I've heard the name, yes, but I...don't know where he is just now. I wish I could help! I could make inquiries...learn of him in a trice if he lives in the Patrician's Ring...but every guardsman we have is committed just now, and we're sadly short shifted. Perhaps if I might impose upon you to be a little patient with me, I might find out for you? It may take until tomorrow morningtide...all offices in the city will close for today...but if my lady can bear such a wait, I'll stop at nothing to find what you need and get you to Lord Thalas' home here," he babbled, his demeanor clearly hoping she might accept such a delay.

[Perdita Faechild]

Perdita smiled warmly at the guard, running her fingertips lightly across her collarbone.

"It's a shame to have to wait, I was rather hoping to get hold of him today," she said in reply. "But if you're certain you can't find him...and I would have been so grateful."

Somehow she didn't think that her companion would appreciate a delay in their mission. Finding this Iorn, however, was proving to be a little difficult, especially on such a momentous day. Waiting might be the best course of action - but then again, niggling thoughts at the back of her mind made her wonder about her 'real' life and if she ought to return and remember whatever it was that wanted her to remember it.

[Grant]

"Oh no!" the man seemed frantic. "I'll take you there, I promise! I just...I need time to find it, that's all! Look...let me get you a place where you can stay warm and dry while I dig through our records to find him, Ok? I'll have you there in no time, I promise! As soon as I can," he assures her, turning to face her directly. "I'll put you up in the Dragon myself and see to it personally."

To one side, Perdita could see the gates open and the Procession moving past, a phalanx of horses surrounding a hearse wagon drawn by a team of four. She could only just see the hearse through the throngs of people lining up to witness it's passing. The procession was long and quite impressive, but it made so very little noise, as if she saw them in a dream.

[Perdita Faechild]

"In the...in the Dragon?"

Why did the name sound familiar? It echoed in the recesses of her mind as if something were trying to call her through the fog in which she currently existed.

"Oh, thankyou, you are very kind indeed. But you must tell me your name if I'm to accept your generosity!" she said eventually, looking him in the eye. "I'm Perdita."

The procession distracted her momentarily, and she glanced away towards it. The Caesar...dead...poor man. The opulence seemed so far removed from her own situation. She wondered where they were going.

[Grant]

The man was slowly overcoming Perdita's charm, at least enough to recall that he had not given his name. He blushed very slightly at the onerous oversight...such a thing was irresponsible in a Purple Guardsman, trained to be cordial and proper at all times...and he quickly corrected the error. "I beg pardon, madam! How inappropriate of me. My name is Sergeant Zimphander of the Purple Guard, though I would be most honored and delighted if you were to call me Zim," he said, offering both his office, his career, his given name, and his nickname all at once.

It was in fact the Burpin' Dragon to which he lead her, skirting the streets of the Procession such that they would not be cut off from the establishment by the large train of horses. Sergeant Zim was not a dull man...he was, in fact, quite sharp indeed...and he knew that when a lovely face turned his way, it was always nicest to help out...but never to help too quickly, for he would not have his walk to the Dragon end too quickly. He therefore deliberately wound them through several side streets and alleys to insure that he might spend as much time chatting with the lovely blonde as he might, for a soldier was the very soul of opportunity and advantage.

"So why do you seek this...Thalas person, madam? Is he your..." Lover. Husband. Distant mistral to whom you would surrender your future. "...perhaps a relation, I should think?" he asked, ignoring the apparent interest he had in her answer though their walk together might quickly become much shorter depending on that very response.

[Perdita Faechild]

Zim seemed embarrassed, and this amused Perdita. She felt a certain sense of pride that she was able to fluster him so, but allowed him his moment of awkwardness.

"Well then, Zim, it is a pleasure to make your accquaintance," she replied warmly.

The question was an expected one - of course he would want to know what her business was with this man. She would have to reply carefully, so as not to arouse suspicion.

"Oh, I don't know him personally," she explained, feigning as little interest as Zim himself seemed to show. "My brother is in the merchant business, and had some important matters to speak to Mr. Thalas about. Unfortunately he has fallen quite ill, and asked me to carry out some tasks for him, one of which was locating Iorn Thalas. He did not have an address but assured me that this man would be easy to find - in fact it appears the opposite! I had some...unfortunate experiences along the way, which is why I am in rather a state."

She indicated her by now tatty dress, which was hardly the attire of a merchant's sister.

[Grant]

"Well well!" responded Zim at once, suddenly taking a completely unnecessary turn such that he might draw out their walk. "Well well, indeed! How dutiful you've been to your dear brother to assist him in this. And how fortunate he and this Thalas fellow are that you should donate your efforts...and your apparel...so selflessly. Well, you need not worry. We'll have those clothes off of you in a t..."

Instantly Zim stopped speaking, his eyes going wide as he glanced at Perdita. Once he saw her he instantly glanced away, as if meeting her gaze stung him. "Ah...that is to say, I'll scrub you down nicely...your dress. I'll have your dress cleaned properly, that you might make a fine impression on your...ah...on Thalas," he finished, clenching his jaw together at last and looking away such that his companion might not see him blush or grimace at his clearly very unexpected choice of words.

Unwilling to let an uncomfortable silence fill the air after such a gaff, Zim quickly began speaking again, though it was clear he was merely babbling to cover his embarrassment. "So! So...you ran afoul, did you say? Along the way? I hope you were not set upon, my lady. I hope it was merely a...passing difficulty..."

[Perdita Faechild]

Zim's slip up made Perdita stifle a giggle. Still, her mouth twisted itself into a smile - not an unkind one, but good natured amusement. At the same time she felt herself blushing in shared embarrassment.

"Well, thankyou very much for your offer!" she said, her voice betraying her laughter. "It's not every day you meet a man who'll organise your laundry!"

"Oh, well, it was unfortunate really. First of all somebody ran into me, so I fell into the dirt. Then somebody tried to steal my...my cloak," she said quickly - a poor explanation but it would have to do.

"But now you have to answer my questions! How long have you been a guard? And does your wife approve of your chosen profession?"

[Grant]

"No, I don't have a wife. I'm only a sergeant still," remarked Zim with a smile as he glanced over at Perdita once more only to blush and look down. "Officers tend to get all the attention, you know. But I've been a guard for four yahren, so there remains hope for me. I'm currently working with some very interesting people that might help propel me forward to a promotion very soon. It is...actually quite pleasant to be a guardsman, madam. There is a certain amount of pride to devote my life to the service of the Empire, though it certainly isn't the easiest of jobs, I should think."

"But that seems all so very droll compared to the life of a merchant! Tell me of your family? Perhaps I've heard of them. Are you associated with the Vaeldemeux? The Marcadas? The Haut Le Docs? The Redaults? Or maybe a foreign family? Oh, I won't deny that travel always captures my heart, it does! Merchants often travel to distant places...like Taquar, or Trothgard, or even Sabata! I should like to see Sabata some day..." he finished, his somewhat passionate discourse trailing off with an embarrassing silence.

[Perdita Faechild]

"Four yahren is a long time, you must have gained a lot of experience," Perdita commented. "And yes, serving your Empire - most exciting. It must be rewarding."

She paused at his question. She was pretty sure she was from Dort, and wouldn't be able to bluff being part of a big Citadel family.

"I'm a foreigner, actually, from Dort. I haven't done that much travelling myself, besides moving here with my brother - the adventurous side of the business has been his area, really. I'd love to see some other lands too, and hopefully one day I'll be given the opportunity," she explained. "But tell me, what does a young guardsman do with his spare time?"

[Grant]

That Sergeant Zim was growing perhaps more confident was clear, for it was not customary that women should ask him so many questions about himself. Does she find me so very interesting? Ah, perhaps she does! Or perhaps she is merely grateful for my help? This may be so, but gratitude is seldom a poor way to come to know a lady. Smiling over at her, Zim dug for the most impressive answer he could conceive.

"Oh, when I'm given my leisure, I enjoy playing a very special game, madam. I look for a person I do not know, and I introduce myself and come to know them well. I listen for songs I have not heard, and I memorize them and sing them back. I look for beauties I have not seen, and I gaze upon them so I might recall them again and again, in hopeful reflections or pleasant dreams. I think I will not quickly forget our meeting, my lady, for I find myself at leisure, and I find myself looking at you."

With something not unlike frustration, Zim noticed that the Dragon was growing near. They had not had overlong together, and his interest in this suddenly present lady had grown into something not unlike very real admiration. And why not? After all, what is a Sergeant but tomorrow's lieutenant? Perhaps there is some hope for the troops yet.