The Long Road to Learnin' (Three parts) --- &RPaward

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Artal
Posts: 22
Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2021 11:17 pm

The Long Road to Learnin' (Three parts) --- &RPaward

Post by Artal » Sun Aug 15, 2021 9:08 pm

Ely edit 17 Aug 2021:

1-6 qps, depending on length and quality.

Potential +1 qp: if part of a series: x

Total: 3 + 2 + 3 + 2 for series qps

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The Long Road to Learnin' part 1

With a yawn he stared forward at it as he sat upon the floor, near the window as he did each morning. No book in hand though, as it sat just above him on the table. Instead he held open the folded note that was found in his pocket. Slight red adorned it as he held it in front of his face. The red, perhaps his, or the monsters that had attacked he did not know. A few of the words he had made out quickly, but most. He could not piece them together. How long had he been sitting here? It was still dark when he sat down, and the note was no closer to being read than when he had started. Frustration had grown long ago, so now he was having trouble staying focused on trying to piece it together. "Well?" he heard in a low voice across the room and looked up past the paper toward the man leaning in the doorway. Dour faced as always with his smashed in nose and scars Lamgwin just watched.

"Nothin." He started with a frustrated sigh. "I read the small stuff but I can't read most of it." Finished before folding it up once more. Pushing himself up he stood and stretched momentarily.

"Shouldn't give up so quickly, must have been important for someone to put it in your pocket." Turning the man was near scowling, folded arms as he rested against the wooden frame.

"I been tryin for hours. I have time to figure it out." Exclaimed as he made his way to the side of the library, toward his room with its door cracked open.

"If you say so, but its only been a short while. Not hours." This caused him to pause and turn, but the large man was gone from his spot. Back off into the main of the inn. Spitting out a few choice words under his breath he rolled his eyes and pushed the door open.

"S'been longer than a short while. I sat there long." Stalking inside he moved over the far wall, where the small hearth remained lit, with a dim fire still casting its flickering light around the room. Plain wood trimmed walls ran half the wall around the entirety of the room, before a stone rose the rest of the wall to the roof. In the corner of his small room he stopped at the table and gripped at the chair, pulling it to the hearth. With a groan he rose up onto it and stretched his arm out, placing the note onto the shelf with his other treasured things. The wooden soldier stood center watching over his room. Its paint slightly faded from use. Beside it the folded up blanket, worn and slightly ragged it sat there too small for him to use any longer. But he could not get rid of it. The note he placed right beside the soldier, before picking it up and sitting it back down to stand upon it so it wouldn't fall away. A short hop and he was back on the flat of the floor, and with a grunt he pushed the chair back into the corner. Turning he made his way out of the room and pulled the door shut beside him. The sounds of life filled the inn now, chatter and movement heard all through the library meaning everyone was waking and beginning to go about their days. Which meant the chores started now. With a sigh he scampered forward through the open door into the main of the inn. Basel was moving about calling out to all of the serving staff and help that worked inside the inn. The cooks were making their way down the stairs toward the base floor of the building where they would get breakfast set and begin preparing for the rest of the days meals. 'Dishes.' He thought to himself watching them move. The stable boys ran off almost immediately behind them, to take care of any of the guests houses in the small stable at the rear of the building. Two boys, older than he and not very talkative. Barely knew the pair at all as they kept to themselves. Moving forward around a pair of men that sat down at a table he made his way toward Basel, only to have someone step in front of him. His face was directly in the man's chest. Broad and wide he looked up and Lamgwin was giving him a grin. Uncommon...

"Not today lad, something new planned for you." And the giant hand formed a vise grip upon his shoulder. Ushering him away from the pink faced man who went about his work and down the stairs. Before he could voice any form of complaint he was out upon the streets and moving east. Away from the inn, toward the Aringill gate. 'Am I allowed outside again?' A hopeful thought crept up. But they did not go outside the gate when they arrived. Instead turning up the north south road and after a short walk moving west into the park. He had visited the park several times, but never stayed long.

"Why we at the park sir?" Asked, looking up toward the man who kept him moving forward through the grass toward a small hut at the northern edge. Outside a horse stood, eating at some grass. He wanted to pet the creature but the look it cast him made him think twice.

"Careful, ponies will bite you. Angry little things they are. Like you!" Said with a smile he went to argue against it but was pushed forward inside the hut. Where a man stood, clothed in forest green. An old rake held in his hands. Looking directly at them as they stepped within.

"Thank you once again. Appreciate you spending this time of yours on him." Lamgwin said before releasing his grip and turning away.

"Hey, where you goin?" Artal called after him, who simply waved a hand above his head before heading out.

"Your with me for the day Artal. My name is Vatrin, and I am the caretaker of the park. I also make a habit of teaching young ones such as yourself things to help them for their journeys ahead." Spoken nonchalantly the man stood there still, rake in hand. Watching and waiting for something. Artal shifted, and scrunched his nose. Watching back, 'What was this man gonna teach me?' thought as he waited. "Any questions lad? Or we just gonna stare at one another all morning?" No hint of annoyance or anger in the voice, so he shifted his feet again and looked toward the door.

"Gotta do wit that pony? Tried bitin' me it did." Spoken quietly, while looking out the door to where the dark eyed creature ate upon the grass outside.

"Aye, your gonna learn to ride boy." He heard from behind, not taking his eyes off the pony. Which now in turn stopped eating and was watching him.

"Gonna bite me?" Asked sheepishly, over his shoulder watching the man with the forest green attire moving forward passed him and out the door.

"Probably, but your still gonna try." A smile on the man's face. 'They want the pony to bite me!' Thought as he narrowed his eyes. "Come. First lesson begins now." Smile not leaving the face, the man watched as with tepid steps he moved forward, out the door and back into the sunlight of the park.





Dim light shone over the tops of the buildings as he moved slowly in circles around the park. His whole body ached as the pony had shown him no love all day. Thrown from the back of the monster over and over he would be covered in bruises and scrapes. And his hand hurt, where the pony had bitten him several times as he reached for its reigns. But now, now he smiled broadly from ear to ear. As he mastered the creature, and moved in his little circles around the park. Time and again he had failed, as the evil little horse had decided it was his time to meet grass once more, but now. Now it just circled around, seemingly given up on preventing him from riding upon its back. 'Victory is mine evil horse.' Artal announced to nobody in his mind as he narrowed his eyes and watched the ground before him.

"Very good, very good indeed lad." Vatrin announced as he rounded the well once more passing by him. Taking a gloved hand off the reigns and waving as he passed. The man grew on him quickly. A kindly old man who apparently did spend his time teaching those who came to learn how to survive in the wilds. From riding to butchering of meat and surviving the lands the man was well versed in all of these things. Like Tenil.

"Thank you sir, can I come down now?" Asked looking back at the man who simply nodded. Pulling the reigns and kicking is little feet into the flanks of the creature lightly it turned and made its way to the cabin. Pulling them back once more it came to a stop and he swept himself off its back and onto the grass, handing the reigns to Vatrin. Who tied them to a small post beside the small building.

"Very good job today. Next time you visit you shall learn something new, and perhaps try to ride a larger horse. I can perhaps get my hands on a colt, or a palfrey." The man was stroking his chin while talking. The idea of trying to climb upon a larger horse sent a shiver down his spine. 'It would jolt me off over the wall!' Thought as he watched. "Well, at any rate its time for you to return to the inn. Your supper should be ready by now, and they will be expecting you. No dallying in the streets. Straight home!" The last few words pointed, as if saying we know what trouble you get into so no lingering about. But he didn't mind. Food and sleep sounded great. So with a quick nod he began away from the park east before curving south along the paved roads toward the Aringill gate.

People still moved about, guardsmen in their gleaming armors. Small folks in their colored clothes chatting as they moved about, flanked by children calling out a million questions. He ignored it all, still smiling. He had learned to ride a horse. Sure he had ridden on the back of Gus, their ox back on the farm. But Gus moved real slow, and didn't much care what you did to him as long as it didn't hurt. They put all kinds of things on his back, he was lighter than anything else he had to carry. Was probably happy for the change. But he rode an actual horse. Sure it had bitten him and tossed him into the grass and dirt all day. But finally it didn't, and he had done circles for what seemed hours. Coming upon the Aringill gate, he looked west and began to trudge along. His body ached something fierce though. 'Bloody painful falling all day.' Thought, not said. As announcing those words like Lamgwin did would earn him a mouth full of soap and a dunk in bucket. "Not words for young men to say." He mockingly said, trying to imitate Basel's voice. A poor imitation. But he smiled regardless. As light began to fade from view, down below the rooftops he came upon the Queen's Blessing. Darting inside he moved up the stairs in lumbering leaps, skipping a stair or two as he bounded along. Forward and into the bustling main of the building. Lamgwin turned from his usual spot in the doorway as he moved past, and he heard the man snicker loudly.

"Covered in dirt and bruises, you sure you trained? Or did you wrestle the pony." The laughter in the man's voice didn't matter. He succeeded. "Both" He shot back, truthful at least. Before moving through the center of the room toward the old Innkeeper who was now eyeing him as well.

"Ah back at last." The man said, in his usual kindly tone. Cut off as Artal moved in and gave the man a hug squeezing him tightly.

"I am sorry, for troubling you. And for disappearing. Thank you for caring." Slowly spoken, making sure not to mess up any of the words. The man looked taken aback. Off to his side he saw Lamgwin nod, and move back to his post at the doorway. Leaning and watching down the stairs.

"No worries Artal. I am assuming it went well. Or well enough by the looks of you. Clean up, I will have some food brought into the library so you can practice your reading while you eat." So he moved off, quickly. He had been failing to work out the words of that note, but he could do it. And he would do it soon. Off into a side room of the main hall he grabbed two buckets and began the relay to fill it from the kitchens where water was being warmed. The night would be long, but he would work out some of those words.

Artal
Posts: 22
Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2021 11:17 pm

Re: The Long Road to Learnin' (Three parts)

Post by Artal » Sun Aug 15, 2021 9:08 pm

The Long Road to Learnin' Part 2


He moved quickly, loose fitting pants and soft soled boots all he wore. Sweat forming upon his frame. The staff came in, toward his feet and he spun away quickly. Dancing away from the strike and circling to the left of his foe, an old weathered grey bearded man in a rumpled coat. Never did get his name, as the man did not like giving it. And with each visit the man would try and knock him about with that staff. So he was forced to 'Dance' for hours at end. Circling away and darting back. Avoiding the strikes of the staff. A gnarled length of wood, the man barely put any effort into his strikes, but each one was on its mark so if he did not avoid it he was in for new bruises. New greetings with the wood floor of the basement. The staff came up quickly, away from its low target of his feet where he had previously stood. Circling up and toward his head. Ducking slightly he tucked himself and sprang forth back circling right and leapt back a short step to avoid what came next. The staff came crashing down, where he would have landed. He had not dodged that before, and it left him dizzy and staring up at the ceiling. Smiling he pivoted forward and kicked the staff off to the right, which drew an annoyed sound from the roughly bearded man. Who simply spun away and swung it back again. Right toward his midsection. He danced backwards, before spinning himself and sweeping the staff away with his hand. Which drew a small happy sound from the man.

"Good good, annoy me you little brat." Offered with a wry smile upon his lips. Artal shrugged, and tucked his arms behind his back. Sash flowing away from him as he began a small skipping dance continuing to circle the man to his right side. A groan came from the old mans throat and staff came twirling about before slamming into the wood floor with a thud. Artal did not stop, his smile or his circling. "Okay then." And the man moved at a speed Artal did not recognize, had not seen as of yet. Two three steps forward, one or two to the right directly in front of him and then one back left. Artal went to dance away to the left and was cut off, almost tripping before spinning away to the right. Staff directly in his line of sight, stopped right in front of his nose. "Aye aye. No need to concuss ya this time." Looking passed the staff Artal gave a shrug and the man laughed. "Aye aye, good job lad. Getting better. But still a ways to go."

"Sir, we been at this for weeks. I still can't get away from your staff." Annoyed he shot the reply out. Moving away and sitting on the small ragged wooden stool in the corner with a towel upon the table. Picking it up he began to wipe away at the sweat he had built up.

"Some things take practicin'. Some things take more practicin' than others. You got real good at sneakin about and hidin. This needs more work, continued work. Can't get hit if you dance around their hittin'." 'Wait what?' He thought. Stopping and dropping the towel into his lap. "Yeah heard how good you got at sneakin around behind those guards. Also heard about the trouble out west. Gotta get real good at not bein hit." 'He had heard? Who else had heard?' Artal thought while watchin him. "Now up, we go again. And this time don't annoy me or I will concuss ya and send ya back to the inn in a heap so I can be left in peace." The man smiled and circled back into the center of the room. Smiling from ear to ear he rose once more, and cast the towel away. 'I am going to annoy him so much he breaks that staff on the floor or the wall.' Artal decided, and moved forward with several quick steps to meet his foe once more. Down, in the basement of the tavern he would dance the morning away. A smile upon his face as this old man tried to brain him with that gnarled old staff.



Blowing softly on the spoonful of the soup he eyed the note. Cheesy potato soup with some mixed vegetables. This spoon wasn't his sursa, but it would work. Into his mouth he shoveled it as he unfolded the note so it was fully open and ready to read. Warmth filled him, and fatigue drifted away momentarily. 'Those who watch you work not alone. Careful when out and about the world.' Some of the words he had worked out. Who was watching him though? Another spoonful up, and he tasted the carrot immediately. It wasn't green, so he liked it. 'Network.' That word he did not understand. And would need to ask Basel when the inn was less full. Taking his eyes off the note he looked through the doorway leading into his little sanctuary. Tables were filled, and patrons slammed mugs together. Most of the patrons would be downstairs in the larger dining room. But on nights where it was especially full they had some tables up here for them to gather at. More coin coming in, and more men and women staying the evening. No one tended to come into the library though, unless it was to check on him. Eyes drifted back down, as more soup went in and down. 'The truth needs to be found, but patience needs to be observed.' Again. He could read this part, but it was more a riddle than a note that he would piece together easily. The clatter of spoon hitting ceramic made him look down with a groan. "Arrgghhh, empty" shot out, which drew a short laugh from someone. Looking up he saw Basel walking into the room. Another steaming bowl in hand.

"Figured you would be hungry enough to clean that quickly. Got some more." A happy noise left Artal's throat before he could contain it, which drew another short laugh. "So how goes it today?" Asked quietly. Weeks? Months perhaps had passed since he returned and the note had been found. Time had begun to spin together for him. His days spent doing chores, or training with the three men in the city. Time had started to flow far too quickly for him. But progress had been made. Looking around the innkeeper he folded the note up and stuffed it into his pocket.

"What is a network?" Asked quietly. Which drew a confused expression from his caretaker. Sitting the bowl down Basel wiped at his hands before drawing a chair forward and sitting upon it.

"Well, it can mean many things. A network of water, or several streams or rivers that connect and keep the flow moving forward. Easiest to think of it as a group of things that run together to keep something running. A chain. Why can I ask?" The look went from confused to curious. Artal kept looking from him to the doorway. Making sure nobody else was close enough to overhear them.

"The note says A network. Also says I am being watched, and that we gotta find the truth. But patience must be observed? A lot more but these parts I am confused on. Who would watch me?" Asked quietly, as he finished the statement and shifting spoon from empty bowl to full one while dragging it closer to him. Eyeing the creamy steaming bowl of delicious as it grew closer.

"Worrying. Very worrying but I would think we would notice if you were being watched. As far as a network, I am unsure to be honest. But it was an Aes Sedai leaving the note. Who knows what meaning could be there." Less a question and more a statement Artal looked up and nodded slightly. He sure didn't know the meaning. But he liked less the idea that he was being watched. Blowing on the spoon he shoveled it in and began to answer mouth full.

"I" he mumbled out, before Basel cut him off with a 'finish the spoonful boy.' So he did. "Sorry. I don't like bein watched if someone's watchin sir." He announced a little more loudly than intended while narrowing his eyes and casting his glance through the doorway behind the innkeeper. Lamgwin was in view and looked confused, pointing at himself but Artal shook his head and dipped back straightening in his chair hiding behind Basel.

"Nor do we like the idea of you being watched. So we continue to be careful no? That part about the patience I agree with. Think of observe differently. You aren't watching it. You are practicing it. Which I like the idea of, your a bit spontaneous no? Artal nodded quickly, probably too quickly. "Good. Now, finish up and work on that note a bit more. I will close the door so you have your privacy. Clean up and be ready for the morning, it will be an early start." Artal nodded, and watched as the door shut behind the man. Pulling out the note he unfolded it once more and sat it upon the table. Shoveling in the meal as he began to work out more of the contents of the puzzling paper.




He slipped out of the shadow of the window, in the darkness that enveloped his presence. Off down the sloping roof of the stable behind the large inn until he was at the edge. "They need to know. They have figured out too much." He talked to himself as he scanned the empty streets below. Dropping down he moved off quickly. Back into the shadows. Soon. They needed to know soon.

Artal
Posts: 22
Joined: Sun Jun 20, 2021 11:17 pm

Re: The Long Road to Learnin' (Three parts)

Post by Artal » Sun Aug 15, 2021 9:08 pm

The Long Road to Learning part 3


His arms stung, with each strike rattling off the wooden shield he braced in front of himself. Forced backwards by the power of the strike he crouched low and drew his practice sword up beside it, preparing to counter. The graying man-at-arms moved forward after him lazily, his blunted sword arcing down once more. "Parry" The man commanded in a strong voice. So he did, with the shield casting the strike off easily as it bounded away. He thrust his forward, which the man parried easily once more. Scoffing as he did. "Weak strike, you need to mean it." Growling under his breath Artal circled away readying himself the next attempt. 'Stalked.' Is how he felt, as the man paced forward again, feet crossing over one another in a rhythmic dance like movement. Again he drew his sword and this time it was a sweeping blow aimed at his middle. "Deflect." The command came, so he drew his shield back slightly and cast his sword up at the incoming weapon. Catching it and jarring it up. "Good. Again." The man commanded as he swung it again coming from the other side. Moving to the opposite side he attempting to bring his sword up but he was too slow, only sparingly catching it before it cruised off his own practice sword and into the meat of his arm right above the elbow. Grunting he dropped. Sword left arm, and rested upon his neck. "Dead. Again." The strong voice from above stated the obvious, and footsteps drew away from him. Moving across the loft where they had been practicing. "Better still, but miles to move." Announced from across the room. Looking up Artal stared as the man cast shield down against a timber that braced the arching loft. Clad in red and white the man looked impressive, his movements most of all. Each step was meaningful. 'Could I move like that?' Artal thought as the man leaned the sword down as well. Noticing he was being watched the man stopped and crossed his arms. "Well?"

"Sorry Sir, was just thinkin'." Said while he stood up, rubbing his arm and picking up his fallen sword. Dented and tarnished the thing was still heavy. Weeks of this and he was still not used to its weight. And the man was talking about upgrading to a heavier weapon soon. The thought of it made him groan. Moving off to his side of the loft he leaned it against a weapons rack, which was filled with far better weaponry for practicing. Always eyeing the large spears whenever they practiced. 'If I had a spear like that, those monsters would have thought twice about hurtin me.' Thought with a scowl. As he placed shield beside sword. "Thinking about what?" The question came quickly, interrupting his line of thought. Turning he nodded before moving before the man and sitting cross legged on the floor. He was wearing the same clothes he practiced his dancin in. A towel hit him in the face before he could answer, so he began wiping away answering while draped in the cloth.

"That if I kept praciticin' I could be as good as you sir?" Shot out from behind the safety of the fluffy towel, now being drenched in his sweat.

"Years of practice sure lad, and a life time of experience. But anyone can if they put in the work." The tone was softer than he expected. The man always had a more fierce tone than his other teachers. But it caused him to pause, so he pulled the towel away after drying at his face.

"And the other weapons? I can get good with those too?" Answered with a quick and cheerful tone Artal stared up at the man. Who smiled in return and nodded.

"Spear, axe, mace. You can learn what you put the effort into. Myself and many others more than willing to teach you all you wish to know. For now though, we practice with sword and shield. Offense and defense. With your other lessons we will make sure you can survive out there. What you do from there we shall see." The man turned from him and began the descent from the loft, each footstep ringing out loudly in the alcove they had practiced in. The opening and closing of a door followed. So Artal quickly cast the towel onto a small stool by the weapons rack and raced down the ladder before dragging his shirt of a table in the hall before the rise above. Dragging it on over his head he moved quickly, yet slowly all the same. It had caught him off guard being led up into the direction of the Palace. Only to become even more anxious when they crossed beyond the gate from the road into the vicinity of it. To practice in this area, this close to the palace. It was overwhelming any day. But it had become easier with each trip. Moving passed the fountain he moved toward the gate with the red and white clad Queen's Guardsmen nodding and allowing him back out into the streets beyond. Moving down the paved way south, directly toward the square and the inn near it. His thoughts drifted back toward the note. After all that time he had spent on it, he had worked out it out entirely, but he had more questions than answers.

'Those who watch you work not alone. A network spanning all of Andor and beyond. You need to be careful when traveling the world. The truth must be found, but you must observe patience. They watch you, so you must watch them, learn who they are and then you can find the truth. Those who you trust, truly trust keep close. And those who you think you trust. watch.' It was all too much, very short and not very clear to him. Some of the words were a mess as the blood had stained the paper thoroughly but he made out as best he could. The bottom of the note was not signed. But he knew who left it. The ageless woman with the blonde hair. The one who healed his face. Instinctively his hand rose to where the scar ran. Down the right side of his face, the portion where his eye was had fully healed thanks to her. And the faint scar left behind ran down his cheek. Light had disappeared throughout the city as he made his way quickly south. The only sound were his footsteps. Beneath the lamplight. Crossing past the armor smith shop and the weapon smith shop he was nearly toward the square. When he heard another set of footsteps behind him. Followed by another. His heart began to race, as he moved quickly on. Each step of his, was immediately met by those other steps. Lamps flickered above, casting light where he moved. But in between that and the next lamp there was a zone of darkness, enveloping everything. Moving forward he crossed into the main road through the center of Caemlyn, and immediately darted off west. Into the darkness he thrust himself. Clambering forward slowly until he moved forward into the shadows, crouching down between two small buildings, behind a wagon and beside some crates. He made himself small, As small as he could manage. Down into the darkness as far back as he could. He heard the curses ring out in the streets from where he ran. He saw four figures, draped by the darkness move off down the street. Time stood still, as they crossed about looking everywhere. Looking to find him. He pulled the dark cloak up around his face and pinched his eyes shut. Thump. Thump. All he could hear was his heart, threatening to beat right out of his chest. 'I am being watched, and now I am being followed.' The thought raced through his head. Sitting for what seemed an eternity he waited. Listened. Until he was sure nothing was around. No longer did he heard the curses, or the shuffling of feet up and down the streets. His eyes hurt slightly with the light of the lamps now brightly shining upon the streets but they adjusted quickly. Rising from his hiding spot he moved slowly, half crouched from beside the crate and around the wagon. Back out from the alley between the two buildings. Fully crouched he watched up the road, toward the inn. Nothing moved. Nobody was out and about. Springing forward he ran, as fast as he could until he moved up the street away from his hiding spot and all the way to the door. Which he nearly crashed through and closed roughly behind him wit a slam. Up the stairs and into the room he was panting. The whole of the upper floor was empty, save a few of the serving staff moving about. No sign of Basel or Lamgwin, until he cast his glance back toward the library. Lamgwin seemed to see him so he rushed forward, through the doorway and stopped dead in his tracks. The window was open, blowing the cool air in throughout. And Basel was standing at the door to his little room. Moving inside he instantly got angry. The blanket, HIS blanket. Was upon the floor along with all of the books and other things scattered about. Panic surged into him once more and he dragged the chair from the small table and jumped upon it. The soldier was on its side, and the note. It was gone.

"Lad, we heard nothing. Saw no one." Lamgwin was saying. They had his note, now they knew that they had been found out. Or they knew that he knew he was being watched at least.

"Did you hide the note up there, is that why you are looking?" Basel asked, so he turned and gave the man a nod. He cursed, bloody ashes to be exact. Very uncommon for him. Artal smiled regardless. Which drew a confused look from both the men. "What?" The man asked of him.

"You cursed." He said laughing quickly before adding. "And it doesn't matter, they obviously knew about the note. But I finally figured it out, I memorized it. And can write it back down." His statement drew an approving nod from Lamgwin who quickly moved off from within the room.

"Ignore my cursing Artal. It is serious, they got into the inn and into your room without our hearing." The man had his arms crossed and looked very annoyed.

"They also stalked me from my practice, and nearly had me. I had to hide and run here when they moved passed me sir. But now I know they will try to get me." Said while dropping to his bottom upon the chair. Lamgwin re entered the room with a small sheet of paper and a set of quill with ink bottle. Setting them upon the table.

"What?" Basel exclaimed, while looking to Lamgwin. "They followed him from the palace, almost nabbed him in the streets. We need to re think everything now." Hands began to wring upon one another. Lamgwin looked less concerned. "They missed, crafty little bugger this one." Smile returned, but Basel stopped his movements, looking far more annoyed. Artal dipped the quill into the ink, and began to write the words down as he had memorized them.

"This is what kept him so long, between the training and then having to disappear in the streets. Its why he missed his visitor." Lamgwin stated, which drew him to stop writing and flick his head around to look. The statement settled in on Lamgwin as well. As he had a look on his face. "What visitor" Artal called out. And Basel answered.

"The carriage arrived around mid day, Soth had come to check in on you." Basel stopped speaking at once, exchanging a glance with Lamgwin.

"A network." Artal spoke quietly, to the two of them. "That are watching me." The thought lingered, eating at him. Soth had carriages crossing all the land. Through Andor and beyond. The man knew him, and had his men driving those wagons throughout the land.

"Known him for years lad." Basel started, but he stopped once more. Looking angrier by the second. "And the damned man was here in the library for his meal." Moving off out of the room Basel stormed away, and Artal looked to Lamgwin who nodded. Before moving outside into the library. Taking up a seat near the window. Artal turned his attention back to the paper, carefully placing the words exactly as he had memorized onto the paper. Each stroke slow, and steady. His practice at writing was pitiful. But he would get better. It had been a long road to be where he was, but he was only just getting started. Soth, with his network of carriages was watching him. But why? And for who? He would be patient, and he would learn the truth.

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