(514-07-22) Speaking of Snakes
Summary: Two ladies go about hunting remedies to a most peculiar serpent in Burcombe.
Date: 514-07-22
Related: N/A
cariste eirian 


Cariste is looking for the one Rickard told her to speak with, told she knows of the fae and the fae ways. For now the healer sits by the stables awaiting Eirian to show. In fact she has been round a lot since she met Rickard, always hoping to steal glances of the young knight.

Burcombe during the summer bustles with activity. Fields around the village are full of labour: the sheep parading around and being chased by dogs, farmers threshing the wheat and grain, and others still toiling with their wash along the banks of the Nadder River. Boats ply the slow current on their way to Wilton, the walled city near the east. Traffic is good, the day fresh, and no reason for one of the Burcombe nobility not to be out and about. In Eirian's case, she walks through the manor with a bow strung over her back and a quiver at her side, the pair of objects at odds with her long lilac bliaut. The pale shade of the robe isn't common, but neither indicative of court dress either. She turns towards the stables, hiking her hemline up rather than letting it be mired in dirt. Humming while she goes, she comes around the corner to find someone sitting or standing there — it all amounts to a surprise, at least. "Oh!" A murmur of surprise jolts her to action. "Pardon, I hardly saw you there."

The healer slightly shivers as she is startled as well, she laughs softly "hello, sorry Rickard said I could wait for Eirian?" she has no clue who she is looking for really, the brown hair sweeps her cheeks softly.

Failed.
Eirian checks her Recognize at 6, she rolled 16.

"Sir Rickard set you to look out here? And he did not even provide you with a stool?" The measure of amusement and horror blend together clearly in Eirian's voice. She brushes her finger back along her hairline, her archery gloves designed to shield two of those digits in leather. "Abominable cousin of mine. I hope you have not been rooted here all day." She inclines her head, clearly at ease about her home. "A pleasure to meet you. I fear that we haven't been acquainted. Eirian de Burcombe, Sir Rickard's cousin. What you sought, you quite found, though please, come out to the orchard. At least the trees are much nicer than sitting beside the horses."

Cariste laughs and shakes her head, "oh its fine I was enjoying the gardens and fencepost. It was to my insisting he even allowed me to stay here." says the woman. She smiles a bit, then she reaches out "I am Lady Cariste of Dunford a soon to be cousin as well." she smiles softly and nods her head to the lady "the Orchard sounds lovely" she says as she moves to follow the woman.

"The fence is rather nice, I admit. Particularly good to perch on and watch the world go by." Eirian warms to the talk, and she dips in a polite curtsey. "You are one of the Durnfords! Sir Cynrain's cousin? I profess you catch me at a tremendous disadvantage, and I should know your house well. You have been fast allies of ours, and I welcome you like my own kin." She opens her arms, a gesture of greeting as much as any. The route to the orchard isn't far and the predominant trees are apples. It is too early in the year for the fruit to be ripe, but they make pretty little green gems studding the happy trees. Some poor boy is tasked with scaring off the birds, and he clutches his hat, bobbing an awkward bow towards the women as they pass.

"Is there a reason you've encamped our stoop? I can imagine Durnford is beautiful right now. The River Avon is tremendously lovely in its season."

Cariste blushes a little "oh well… you see I was here for Beltaine and then stayed a bit to tend to Catryn and twisted my own ankle … falling right into Sir Rickards arms, and have not left since." she grins and blushes, the young pagan healers eyes sparkle with adoration. Ought oh someone has feelings for the lad recently engaged. Cariste smiles as she keeps up with Eirian as she walks. "I wanted to speak to you of the fae, if you have time? Have you heard about my adventures already?"

Eirian's smile ticks up a notch and if the world seems a little brighter around her due to the light step and sunny swing of her arms, so be it. "Now all becomes clear. Yes, Beltaine was quite the event and I am sorry not to have seen you in the festivities. We had such a remarkable turnout. A pleasure to see the faith at its strongest, and to bless our lands by great attendance." Given she is near to a priestess as her cousin, who is in fact one, the sparkle to her unusual blue eyes is altogether reasonable. "I have every bit of time today. You are my guest. It would be terrible for me to neglect you." She steps up to the fence holding the orchard in, a simple construction of low stones piled up. Easy for even a lady to mount, and the bow on her back she moves aside as a precaution to avoid damaging it. "If you are speaking of the encounter with a bound man on Beltaine, Sir Morwenna and Lady Braelynn spoke a bit of it to me. I advised them where I could, though I confess, you have me terribly interested. How delightful and strange it must have been for you. Would you tell me the story?"

Cariste nods her head a bit Sir Morwenna was there with me so if you have heard the story, I shall not bore you with retelling it." she reaches up to pluck a fruit from the tree and eats a bite thoughtfully. "It is good to be meeting you anyway, I am glad our family's shall be a little closer, you all seem like a good family here." she says to Eirian. Turning she looks along the orchard for a bench to sit.

"Everyone's telling of a story differs a little. I would not discount your version of events, for there is wisdom to be had from everyone. As she told me, this man asked you three to perform tasks for him. Was it to be done by next Beltaine or within a different frame? It was unclear to me," Eirian says slowly, swinging her feet from the stone fence. She rests her bow across her lap after pulling it off her back.

Cariste nods her head as she turns the apple in her fingers, "Three tasks to be done by next Beltaine yes." she nods her head "So you know anything of this man, or of the tasks he has given to us?" she asks as she brushes her hair slightly back to look into the woman's face. "I have had no chance to talk to my brother or my cousins about any of this." she says worriedly. "I have heard of the attacks as well as a healer these too fill my heart."

"Three tasks done. I have an idea where two of your locations are, though the third is more difficult. The Stevington Well is giving me some trouble. By its name it obviously has to be on the water, close to a river. You are looking for a holy well, I am almost certain of it. There may be indeed a story of a saint associated with it among the Christians, but I suspect we will see miracles of healing attributed to it. For such waters from Aquae Sulis to the far reaches of Manx are known, yes?" Eirian brushes her hands along the bow, and pulls out a small woven cloth from her quiver. She maintains her gear, this is clear, and polishes the wood gently. "Did you detect any malice out of the man? I was concerned why such a person might be bound, and whether there lies a particular danger in unbinding him. Certainly he is there for a reason, and may not speak honestly of it."

On the matter of death, her expression cools, simmering away into a sad state. "Ah. Yes. My brother did not survive the attack. You must surely see the aftermath of battle in a very different light given you have the task of mending those injuries."

Cariste frowns and she nods her head "I hate loosing people." she says quietly and then takes another bite of her apple, "This is what he had said on the topic of his statue and cursed state". She pauses then repeaters "The court of a king can be fickle, and without mercy. Such happened to me, when I failed a mission tasked me by King Oberon. This is why I require these three tasks be completed".

Critical failure.
Eirian checks her Deceitful at 10, she rolled 20.

"Sometimes I feel battle is too often applied. The human costs of it are terrible. Yes, we must protect our borders, our families, our homes." Eirian stares out over the village beyond the field, the lively activity a picture of peace and delight. "The price in death and injury, though… Can you imagine if we avoided such a persistent loss of life somehow? Diplomacy would be ideal, though not everyone listens and they shake their swords and axes at one another, suggesting it must always be a blade that sets peace." Her thoughts dwindle off on that front, and she rakes her fingers over the bow, smoothing the wood again with the cloth. "He failed King Oberon. Oberon, and he was cursed in failure. I have to wonder what that would be?"

Cariste nods "that was all we were told he failed and wished release of his curse.. of course the ladies and myself promised to do what we could, he did after all leave us to be maids." she blushes and then she shakes her head. "I don't know much about fae themselves to be honest, do you know this king?"

"Oberon. A king of faerie." Eirian puts aside the bow beside her, and she tucks her cloth away back into the leather quiver. "I have heard stories of the name, though I do not know that any such king rules anywhere in Britannia. At least among the kingdoms we see. Logres has one ruler, Arthur Pendragon." She rubs her hands together and rests them over her knee, looking back to Cariste with an uneasy quality still about her. "He wished to be released from his curse. Why you? Why now? I have never heard of him in the past, but perhaps there is some reason. I only caution you to be mindful. He was bound, for all we know, for some terrible cause. Let it not reflect badly upon you."

Cariste says, "He asked for three maidens to offer to champion him, we did not know what we would be tasked with.. only myself and Morwenna and Lady Seraphina stepped forward. I was drawn to his presence and thought if he needed a champion he may need a healer. None of us knew what were going to be tasked with until we swore we would try and uphold these tasks." she says "we are bound us three to at least try and help."

Eirian's eyebrows arch and she looks over at Cariste, curiosity colouring her expression. "Indeed? You had an unusual motivation, to heal a man you did not know. Was there anything at that suggested even then he was unusual to you? I confess I recall very little of him at the time, a passing memory if that." And oh, the reasons why she would not are myriad.

Cariste watch the woman and she laughs "he was beautiful, and he needed help, is it not a healers duty to help without discrimination?" she asks "I could probably take you to his glade - he should be a statue now however."

Eirian raises her hand, palm outwards to forestall any protest. "I cannot fault you for that. Beautiful and in need of help are sufficient qualifications." The laughter bubbling off her lips prove she is as much a woman as Cariste is, to be swayed by such things, and sees no shame in laughing about the matter. "Would you? I confess, I am utterly curious and that would be… Oh, Lady, you do me an honour. It sounds like a poet's tale, but you are living it. Whatever I can do to honour your kind intentions, I will try."

Cariste nods "to be honest, I just do not want anything bad to befall me should we not be able to complete his tasks, but yes I will take you". she smiles then grins "we need to stop your cousin from marrying that Christian Witch who wishes to burn us all.." she murmurs and then smiles.

Cariste nods "to be honest, I just do not want anything bad to befall me should we not be able to complete his tasks, but yes I will take you". she smiles then grins "we need to stop your cousin from marrying that Christian Witch who wishes to burn us all.." she murmurs and then smiles.

"I would not call her a witch. I would call her exactly the sort of person who needs to see that belief in another faith does not translate into massacres and bloodletting of innocents. She clearly holds very misguided beliefs about how the rest of us live." Eirian's eyes narrow in contemplation and she stares out over the fields, letting the sunlight beat into her skin. Not for her the worry about being milk-white. "Regrettable that any hold such unkind views on their neighbours, isn't it? Here is the perfect opportunity to demonstrate we share the same virtues as the Christians — that we are no less caring and concerned for one another, we contribute when help is needed, and we take pride in the same things. Family, friends, our community, our occupation. I shall speak with Sir Rickard nonetheless and let him know he has my unwavering support. Our lord uncle surely must have a reason for his actions."

Cariste sighs a little and she nods her head a bit at that, though she is not happy, not happy at all. She wrinkles her nose slightly and then she sighs. She dose not need to voice her own feelings for they are plain as any woman's would be for a crush. She just lets the silence close in and she finishes her apple. "I will come for you in a few days and we will see if we can find this Sir Basilisk's grove together."

"I trust you, Lady Durnford, and I thank you. This … choice made by my uncle may not be entirely his will. Let us do what we can to live well, and I will search to see what I can find about the well. If you hear anything more, please let me know? It could be we stand with the answers in front of our faces. But I will do my best." Eirian smiles warmly. "Now, would you like to see the gardens?"

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