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Old 04-21-2004, 09:18 AM   #291
Bęthberry
Cryptic Aura
 
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Join Date: May 2002
Posts: 6,159
Bęthberry is wading through snowdrifts on Redhorn.Bęthberry is wading through snowdrifts on Redhorn.Bęthberry is wading through snowdrifts on Redhorn.Bęthberry is wading through snowdrifts on Redhorn.
White Tree A twining perhaps of three threads

The haunting melody of Aywlen Dreamsong's panpipes drifted up the wooden staircase and through the floorboards into the Innkeeper's room. The echoing notes were an eerie reminder of the eyes and ears downstairs, as if even here in Rimbaud's private rooms he could be traced and followed.

Not followed perhaps, but observed in passing. When he and the LoreMistress had left the great hall, their departure together had been noted. They could not escape that, nor, indeed, had they tried.

Yet both were brought up short when they entered a room they had expected to be empty to find a figure in dark brown cloak standing before the fire.

The Loremistress spoke up first, curtly and with authority ringing in her calm tones, "What business have you here?"

The Innkeeper looked at her, his tired eyes for once showing some interest, and raised his hand silently. He recognised the figure that had stood watch over him for many days.

She turned and threw off the hood, smiling at the Loremistress.

"You did not expect me here, old friend, but here I am," she spoke quietly. "And I am most pleased to see you looking well, better than the Innkeeper here."

At that moment, they were interrupted by the arrival of a large falcon who flew through the slightly opened, shuttered window, a small twig in its beak. Wyrd landed on the worn wooden desk, dropping the twig, his head turning with sharp, penetrating glances to the three humans before stopping to stare at the Innkeeper.
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