A New Community

Serraphine was trudging back toward town with a handcart pulled behind her and a piece of parchment clutched in a deatch grip between the wooden handle and her metal-clad palm. A frown is cresting her visage, not that it's really anything new, she seems to always be annoyed (or at least looks it). Sweat ran down her brow, even on this cool chill of a morning as the winds whipped and the clouds scudded low across the sky.

Another whip of wind sends her surcoat ruffling long with the whip of her cloak that cracks like a whip from a particularly strong gust. A grimace and she looks back into the cart to see the slew of rather heavy items. Some needing repair, some just broken, and others in perfect condition - but all of them to be traded.

"Heh. Well, that's always a thing, isn't it?" Kerbasi looks over to the arvek standing next to him. Acleese nods, not looking up from his paperwork. The geekgoblin's bottle-lenses have fallen to partway down his nose, and he pushes them up again. The two men stand there on the eastern road, sachels under their arms. They'd apparently just come from the castle, further east.

Kerbasi has partially disconnected.

The other-other Arvek? Pulls the cart ever onward toward the town, Serraphine still has a long way to go. So, with a pause, she draws herself up near to Kerbasi and sets the cart down with a thunk of heavy wood on packed earth. A look behind her, about, "What's a thing? Did I miss a thing somewhere?"

"Heh? Oh, no. You didn't miss a thing," Kerbasi responds. He smiles, and it's a touch wry, under the priestly kittens and rainbows. "I'm afraid we're just up in paperwork, again. A young man passed, up at th' castle. I'm sure he's in th' Lady's arms right now."

"Serving the paperwork was somewhat challenging," Acleese says, in the midst of taking notes. Painfully shy, he hunches his shoulders, and turns slightly away. NO ONE TALK TO ME. CAN YOU NOT SEE I AM FILLING IN FORMS FOREVER.

"Wat?" Serraphine says as she reaches up with a hand to scratch at her head. As she does the paper flitters away. Once! TWICE! THREEEEE-SNATCH! She catches the paper before the wind catches it and carries it away. A sigh of relief as she looks down to make sure it's still in one piece for that matter. Yep. Yep. Yep. And a fourth nod, all in order.

"Wat?" Serraphine says again as she looks up at Kerbasi and Acleese again. The second, the Arvek, is given a longer look. She stares at him as if expecting him to answer, with eyes that burn like coals and stare into him. Well... maybe not quite that piercing, she's more of a slashing type after all.

Kerbasi has reconnected.

"Lancer Serraphine! It is always good t' see you," Kerbasi says, changing tracks. "I trust everything is in order?" he asks, with a familiar nod towards the paperwork she holds and indeed, just snatched from the air like a paperwork avenger! He looks as he always does, a priest of Vardama with workboots under the robes. Acleese of course, mumbles and mumbles and does other Acleese-things.

The other Arvek holds the piece of paper up a bit higher, looking at the writing with a critical eye that gives a couple pointed glares to Acleese as if the fact this paper has writing is partly his fault. Then back to the crumpled parchment, "Yes. It is a shopping list of sorts." She lowers it, contemplates where to stuff it, and finally goes back to clutching it before-

"COOKIE MAN!" She says in a forceful voice, "Do you have any more? The last ones I sto-found in your roo-church are almost gone."

Kerbasi has partially disconnected.

""Oh! The ...well, I might. But, I assume you have paperwork for those?" Kerbasi asks of her. His hands go to his pockets meanwhile and Acleese, well. Acleese can feel himself being glared at. He huuuuuunches his shoulders and Writes Yet More Determinedly! He's rewritten the same passage three times, but no matter. Fourth's the charm!

Serraphine claps her armor in several places before reaching up and producing a quill that was tucked into her hair. Another couple claps and she finds ink and then writes Kerbasi Cookies on the end of her list. She turns it around and points at it. It's not as legible and obviously a very different hand than the items written above it. "Right there." She nods, "Written on my paperwork. Kerbasi Kookies."

"I--" the brows go up, and Kerbasi reaches for the paperwork. "May I?" he asks. Acleese looks over, and his brows go up, as well. The arvek looks impressed.

Serraphine looks at Kerbasi dubiously, then slowly extends the hand outward holding the paper. A YANK BACK! Then a slow offer of it forward again. "I need the list back..." She says hesitantly and not willing to let it go till he agrees to that much.

"Heh, of course. Thank you for entrustin it to me," he responds. And if she lets him, well, the paper crinkles faintly as Kerbasi takes it. He offers a reassuring smile, before looking over the paperwork, in either his hand, or her holding it out in front of him. "...ah, lumber. And...well, that's...ah, I see. Kerbasi's cookies. Well, then I suppose I'd better give you all my cookies, shouldn't I?" he says. He returns the paper, and then begins patting down his pockets.

He produces a tin of cookies. It's a black tin, of the darkest metal. "...hmm."

1 bag turnip seeds

4 Hoes

1 anvil

8 shoes

4 boxes of nails

1/4 cord of wood

15 2"x4" 10' planks

4 2" 10' wooden dowels

Two Bags seasonal vegetables

120' rope

4 bags feed

KeRbasii KooKIEs

A slow nod of her head, she is indeed trusting this man with her charge. She looks back behind herself at the various items that are piled into her cart. A nod of her head.. Yes, she can fit it all in there. She's pretty sure. Maybe. Hmm... Serraphine looks back to Kerbasi as he begins to pat himself down and talk about the items on the list. She takes the paper back and stuffs it...

Serraphine looks herself over again, trying to decide where to stuff the paper again and - again - deciding to simply hold it crumpled up within her grasp. As Kerbasi looks for his cookies, Serraphine stares at the other Arvek. Stares. Then takes a step toward him, definitive and almost glaring as she says in a strong tone, "You!"

"Well...th' paperwork says 'Kerbasi cookies.' I think it meant t'say Kerbasi's cookies, and I don't want you t'get into trouble. I mean, we wouldn't that. Now..." While she moves over to speak with Acleese, he proceeds to empty his pockets. Out comes a tin of cookies, then a third, then a fifth. Then a loaf of bread. A pack of butter, to go with the bread. Sandwich cuts and cheeses, a canteen of water. Another tin of cookies. A bag of sticky rolls with cinnamon. Another pack of butter, three more loaves of bread. A case of bananas. Another loaf, and finally, two more canteens of water. And a lone, straggly cookie. Oh, and a case of chocolate sprinkles. He adds the last, after giving it a bit of a shake. "I think that should be it. Afraid I snacked on some of th' snack buns this mornin, or there would be a few more, I--anyhow, I'm sorry about that," he says to her.

"...Acleese? What are you hidin' under the cart?" he asks. He's only now noticed.

"Stand up!" She calls to the other Arvek, trying to grab at him and wrangle him up to his feet as she glares. GLARES! Why does he have to be making this so damned difficult?! She glances toward Kerbasi as she attempts to get her quarry under control, on his feet and facing in her direction. She will not have this any other way.

"IT's alright! And yes, possessive form of it, not ones shaped like you. The coffin-UNF!" She pulls at the Arvek to try and straighten him up.

"The coffin shaped ones." She nods, finally wrangling the Arvek up to his feet. Then she headbutts him - in a fashion - as she plants a kiss right on his lips. Yanks back and says, "You're cute." And releases him back into the wilds.

"Waaaaaaaaaa!" Acleese stands up! "I'm out of the army! I'm out of the army!" he cries. And then he's--he's--he stares. "I'm out of the arm..." and then he faints.

He dead out faints.

"Acleese? Acleese! Did you--ah," Kerbasi says. He reaches up to scratch at his head. "I'm hem, afraid he's allus been like that. We uh, we got him durin' the war, you see."

Serraphine looks down at Acleese with a frown as he's now fainted. She's never had someone react that way too her, then again... She furrows her brow, and her mouth pulls off to one side. She looks very confused and a little worried even. "Uh. Does... he always do that when kissed or is it me? I mean, it could be a great tactic if I can disable people so easily, but I fear that Serriel will not look fondly on me kissing demons." She chews a bit on the inside of her mouth, rather conflicted by this.

"Heh, I'm...I'm sorry, what?" Kerbasi asks. His brows furrow up into his hairline. "Kissing heh...well. I'm...he is, actually. I'm afraid he does that," he says then, as he looks towards Acleese. "He came in from th' army, and wanted nothin' more to do with all the--well, he wanted a different life. So he does our paperwork for us."

"...tax forms..." mutters Acleese, in blissful tones.

Serraphine sighs, relief that comes from every pore of her being, "Oh thank Gods." She says, a nod of her head a few times. "He's the first one I've kissed." A nod of her head, very definitive, "I thought - after all that's happened - I should try something new too." She looks back to Kerbasi and starts to order the boxes of cookies in the cart. Less shifting or chances of them breaking on the way.

Cookies, loaves of bread. Sandwich fixins. And the butter.

Can't forget the butter.

Kerbasi steps over the passed-out Acleese to lend a hand with it all. "Well, tryin' somethin new is a good idea. I mean, heh. Have you ever had one of th' cinnamon buns?" he asks her. He points towards one of the stickybuns, with a smile. And in lower tones, "You might try sendin' him a letter. He's uh. He's really shy, I'm afraid."

"No... No... I will need to break him." A pause, perhaps a bit longer than necessary. "Of being shy." She glares down at Acleese, a ponder. "Perhaps I should simply carry him to the city?" She looks up to Kerbasi then with her eyebrows rising, curious, is this the right way to court someone? Bah! Rules.

"I have not tried one yet, but I will." She gives a glance off to the stickybuns as she changes tact.

"Well...he was in th' army once. After Sendor an' all, he came to live with us. It took him a few years t'come out of th'temple," Kerbasi admits. "So, that might not be th' best uh, approach. I mean...he's. ...He's been a big help with paperwork. Writin' letters if someone passes, to let their family know an' that sort of thing. I just think he's uh." Afraid of everything. Kerbasi tries to think of a diplomatic word for Acleese. "He likes...tax forms?" he tries that. There. Surely, tax forms are sexy?

He picks up one of the sticky buns, and hands it to her. In the meantime: "Tax...forms..." from Acleese. He stirs, on the verge of waking up.

Serraphine takes the stickybun, grunting at the idea of tax forms and nods her head. Then she sees her newly decided love interest starting to rouse, so she crouches down and glares at him. Right over him. In a loving way. The sort of loving way that one praying mantis would give to another before eating off its head and then the rest of it.

Chomp!

She takes a bite of the stickybun.

"Tax--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" Acleese opens his eyes to a vision of a preying mantis, and scrambles away! He's back under the cart again.

"...heh. Acleese?" Kerbasi asks the man.

"..."

"I think th' lady has some tax forms for y'to fill out," he suggests. "Could you ehm..."

Acleese pokes his head out. His eyes shine with tender hope, beneath bottleglasses. "Tax...forms?" his eyes flick one way then the other. Then he dives back under. "Just have her mail them to me!!!!" Ohgod.

Serraphine frowns as she takes another bite of her stickybun and stands back up. She turns her head to look toward Kerbasi. "Are you sure it's not better I simply toss him over my shoulder? I've heard that's how it can be done." A nod of her head a few times, a reach up with her free hand to touch along the shaved sides of her head - rubbing there with another bite of the stickybun.

"These are good." The Arvek adds, looking at the person hiding under her cart. "Hmm." She shows a bit of doubt then, maybe this other Arvek would not be a good choice. Another scratch at the side of her head. But the others are so often so... dense. Scratch-scratch-scratch.

"You will join me for dinner!" She announces to Acleese, pointing a finger directly at him with fervor.

Gregor has arrived.

"We uh--" Kerbasi says, and has to raise his voice to be heard over Acleese's admittedly, quieter, panicking. "...we found th' war had been enough of a shock, already. Just...heh. I'd...I'd suggest a nice, safe uh, quiet...cafe or something? An' books?"

"I can talk about books!" comes the eager response. And then the hesitation.

Kerbasi spreads his hands as though to say, well. Still, his eyes show doubt. It is well, Acleese. He's always like this, the look says.

Gregor just looked at you.

"I never said we would eat some place loud." The Lancer says to Acleese with her eyes still focused on him. The praying mantis in her coming out for another chomp of a bite to the stickybun.

"You are also under my cart!" She announces and stares at the other Arvek some more before looking up to Kerbasi. "Mmm. Okay, well, at least I have the cookies and these... Did you say they were sweet trolls?"

Verna has arrived.

Gregor is riding up the mountain road, stiff-backed atop his horse as he makes his way along. Seeing Serraphine, just the person he was looking for, he rides closer, lifting a hand in greeting. "Hello, on the road," he calls, announcing himself before he's close enough to overhear any conversation.

"..." Acleese dives under the cart again.

Kerbasi rubs at the back of his head. Then, "I believe so. There's a few places in Alexandria that make'm. I can make a list for you if you like. Oh! And...heh. Some of the Altheans make th' bread. But for a good butter, you need t'talk with the Gileans. There's somethin' about the cows they raise. Oh, and--" and on and on he goes. About food. With about as much fervor as a priest should for his goddess. So, he barely notices Gregor's--oh.

"Evenin," he calls out to the man.

"I do enjoy their name then. I will deliver some made with holy water to Sandiel." A sage nod of the Arvek's head as Serraphine keeps her gaze on Kerbai - letting the skittish one draw out of his shell for the moment. It has to be times properly. She bobs her head a few more times and finally - oh someone is calling out. She turns her head, then the rest of herself follows. A raised hand, "Hail Traveller." She says in a very-plain accent reminiscent of Alexandria and not a hint of Blar. At least... for the greeting. The rest of her words sound like she just fell off the airship from Blar.

"Sorry for the mess, I'll be moving shortly." She gestures toward her larger handcart which currently has a mixture of things - broken and not - within it as well as a very organized stack of cookie tins, bread, butter, sandwich fixing, stickybuns (sweet trolls), and a solitary cooki--

Munch-munch-munch.

And a solitary cookie used to sit on top of the pile before Serraphine grabbed it with her free hand.

Gregor's voice is Blarite as well, though his speech is crisp and formal enough to offset that somewhat. "I am Gregor Augustin," he introduces himself. "Of the ... Adventurer's Guild, I suppose now." It sounds like he was about to name a regiment. "I have been told an Arvek Lancer," he eyes Serraphine, "has been organizing some of the aid recently, and I am looking to see where I may aid."

Kerbasi feels around in his pockets, before he remembers he emptied them. Slowly, he lowers his hands into his pockets, again. "Aid?" he asks Serapphine, when Gregor mentions it. He's standing there as well, with his geekglasses on. Acleese is hiding underneath the cart, though he seems to scuttle along when it's moved.

A nod of her head, Serraphine looks toward Gregor once more. She looks him up and down and finally stops on... "Yes, and I know just the thing I could use for the first part." Her head jerks to the side where the handcart is, then a nod again toward Gregor. "Any chance we can hook that up to your steed to help carry it into town? I need to try and trade those goods for these goods." She holds up the crumbled list - turns it around to check it - turns it back. Yep. That's the list.

Serraphine lowers the list then and turns to Kerbasi then, her eyebrows arching up once more. "Yes. Did you think this was all for me? No. Not at all. I'm trying to help get a group of people settled, along with Felicia and hopefully others." She bobs her head a couple times. "They will grow into a new community together." Another couple bobs of her head - AND SHE STRIKES! She reaches out to grab Acleese, pulling him into a side hug.

"Will you help too?" She asks of the skittish Arvek.

Gregor is startled by Serraphine's sudden motion. You can tell by how his eyebrows positively leap up on his forehead. As to whether he will hook up a fine cavalry horse to some old wagon, he looks pained at the need to do it. But he nods acquiescence. "Will do," he replies. Patting his horse on the shoulder, he says to the horse, "It's just this once, Traveller, I promise not to make a habit of it." He'll hop down from the horse and begin removing the saddle, right then and there.

"I can do paperwo--" and then he's down again. Acleese hits the earth with a thud.

"...well! Sounds like he'd be glad t'help," Kerbasi responds with a father's loving pride. "Would you like help gettin' him into th' cart? Just stick a few forms in front of him. He'll be fine." He steps out of the way of Gregor and his horse.

A frown and she looks down at the collapsed form again, hm. She picks Acleese up and tosses him over her shoulder with a half-grunt of effort. She turns and look toward Kerbasi in a slow shuffle step so as not to lose the geeky Arvek she's slung over her shoulder, "I will put some papers in front of him and he can figure out the rest on the way." A nod of her head and she pets the Geeky arvek's head. She waits for the cart to be hooked up before placing him into it.

"Thank you." She says to Gregor with a nod, "And it'll only be there and back. When we get back, there are many things you could help with if you know how. Farming and livestock and building. Things like that. I don't know them much at all." She looks back off the way she originally came from - where the community is setting up and exhales softly. This will take time.

Gregor says to Serraphine, "I was a soldier, son of a soldier. What I know of farming was that someone else did it, and we took from them when we needed to feed the army." He harnses his horse up to the wagon, though, and says, "I will help where I may, though. I know a bit of the farrier's trade, we tended our own in the field."

Kerbasi backs up, when Acleese is lifted single-handedly. His brows go up. "Well. Heh, I'll be on m'way, then. Just send him back in a few days. I need him t'help with our letters," he says. He then offers a smile to them both. "May y'walk in th' Lady's grace," he says. Grace, not grave. Ahem. Vardaman jokes.

Serraphine lowers Acleese into the cart, giving Kerbasi another couple nods as she will send him back... eventually. Her mouth pulls off to the side as she considers and then another nod of her head, "May you as well, Kerbasi." She turns her attention to Gregor then, a look passed him to the city.

"First step, supplies. I don't even know much of the farrier's trade. I just try to organize people and keep it going." And there's another couple nods and she'll start off toward the Lower Merchant district once more though now moving at a much better clip now that she's not pulling the wagon by herself.

Gregor will lead the cart, which the horse seems to pull without compliant. "Supplies, I understand. An army travels on it's stomach. Like certain other crawling creatres it resembles in other ways." He smirks. "In the Scouts, we did a bit of everything. Foraging, farrier's work. I could tend oxen, I suppose, if not tell you whether they were doing the job right." He'll follow Serraphine's lead deferentially, apparently equating her with an officer in the current situation.

A grunt from the Lancer, glancing back over to Gregor again before looking to the fainted man in the cart. She starts fussing about and then pulls free a few sheets of paper and plants them in the unconscious man's lap for when he wakes. They're completely blank, but she's hoping that'll at least keep him from immediately passing out again. She moves a bit faster to continue leading the way once more.

"I wasn't in the military." A nod of her head a few times, her mouth pulling off to the side, "It's a long story, but I spent much of my - ah - non-child years in the church. It's all I really knew, but they taught me a lot." She reaches up, running a hand along the side of her clean shaven head another couple nods.

"I don't even really know how to tend horses, truth be told." Serraphine makes another bit of a grunted noise, and glances out of the corner of her eye toward Gregor's steed.

Gregor's steed is a heavy warhorse, and by the bridle and saddle, a scout's horse among the ranks, which gives an idea of where and how Gregor served. He shrugs about not being in the military, and says philosophically, "Our Lady," referencing Serriel, of course, and sideways rerferencing his own membership among her faithful, "calls us all to different tasks. If you have a mount, I can tend two as easily as one."

A couple more nods and Serraphine glances again at the horse out of the corner of her eye more than directly. "I've never much cared for horses, actually. Beyond their practicality I've never really had the desire to have one, so I usually just borrow them for a time. Unfortunately there were no stables on my path - not till we get further into the city anyway." A nod of her head again.

Gregor looks a bit disconcerted about not caring for animals. But, it takes all types, he guesses. "I ... pretty much was brought up in the saddle," he explains. "But Serriel needs footsoldiers as much as cavalry. I was a scout rather than cavalry, myself, which is one resaon I mustered out." Less honor for the mounted scouts compared to the main heavy cavalry. "Don't really need a stable, either, unless something pretty bad happens. Traveller and I have spent weeks on campaign between stables, ourselves.

Serraphine nods a few more times to that, "I know how they - erm - work, and I have some training in riding around on them." She shrugs her shoulders, "I just never much thought of them the same way others do." A glance to Traveller. "No offense of course, I'm sure you're a find horse. I just don't necessarily understand why people care about them so much." She continues plodding forward, looking down at the paper she's crumpled up in her hand. Yep, okay, list is still there and legible.

Gregor nods in understanding. "Understandable. A lot of the more senior cavalry officers don't personally care for their mounts. They have batmen for that." He's much lower caste, of course, his coloration is downright plain. No wonder he never made it into the real cavalry. He's lucky he made it into scouts. "Well, as to why.... if you take care of your steed, your steed will take care of you, of course," he begins with that old observation. "But ... it just fekt natural and right to me."

"Well, yes, but I don't mean like that." Serraphine says as she tosses her head to the side. Thankfully the first stop is coming up. "I mean, obviously, it's important to care for the animal - even if it's not being taken into battle - I don't mean /literally/ why you care for it. I mean emotionally, I don't understand why people get so attached to them." Shr shrugs, giving the war horse another look before points off and ahead toward what looks like a blacksmith shop.

"There's the first one, we'll sell them some of the scrap in exchange for tools, nails, and shoes."

Gregor nods gravely about the first stop. Tools, nails, and shoes are a good start, to him. As far as why you get attached, he says, "If you didn't serve in the ranks, you may not have felt the cameraderie between fellows-in-arms. But there's that feeling between many cavalrymen and their mount as well. If you don't feel it, it's ... far from universal, even among our kind. You're not missing out on any part of life. But it's /a/ path, one for some like me, I suppose."

"I don't just mean in our kind. So many people are so obsessed with their mode of transportation." Serraphine says as she starts to scowl. "If I showed the same care and love for a wagon, I would be deemed a lunatic." A glance back to Traveller, "No offense" then back forward.

"I just find it odd is all." Serraphine continues, "To be so hung up on a creature that way." A shrug, "I understand the camaraderie, I'm a Lancer after all and have been in many a conflict - just not officially part of the military."

Gregor can only shrug to that. "I suppose that it's a mystery?" he offers. "Other's might be confused at your devotion to Our Lady. I think it's just what makes us all different?" He shrugs. "I don't think about it much, I suppose. I'm no philosopher, or a scholar." He does say, "I don't feel that I'm 'hung up' on Traveller. He's been my steed for my entire career, though, all of my adult life, and we've been through a thing or two. But I'm no more hung up on him than you are /hung up/ on Serriel." He smirks. "It's just a thing that is."

Serraphine comes to an abrupt stop. She turns, looking to Gregor with a deep furrow to her brows. It's almost glare like with how intense her gaze falls on the other Arvek (the one who's still conscious anyway). A pull of her mouth off to the side as the furrow darkens, and then she turns and walks the last ten feet toward the shop. "You, sir-" she glances back at him again, "-have made the most sense than anyone else I've ever talked to. I dare say, what you said makes complete sense. I understand now. Thank you." A definitive nod and she turns into the Blacksmith shop.

Gregor looks kind of worried as Serraphine comes to a stop, and the glare is very glaring. But he's made sense, so that's a good thing. He hopes. "Yes, ma'am," he says dutifully. Well, he's had a lot of time to think, out on the trail. But he never thought of himself as a wide person. Just a horseman. "Here we are," he says unnecessarily. "Do they have people to unload, or how does this all work out?"

"Well, first I have to haggle with them, then they'll take some of it and we continue on to get lumber and finally seeds." A nod of her head, "It's going to be a long day." A glance back to Gregor again and another pause. She stares again, longer than necessary perhaps, before her eyes drift down and to the side.

"Thank you, I mean it, for your clarity on that. I've asked many people, and you're the first one to make sense." A look back up toward Gregor, another glare but this one not so... glare-y, before she turns and walks into the smith's shop.

"YOU! YOU SIR! HAIL TRAVELLER!" And she announces it very loudly, very blar like with stiff movements, far more so than she was just a few moments before. "HAH! That is a good one!" And she thumps her armored fist against her chest. "Ahh yes! I love falling from airships! YOU SMITH! We need uh.. STUFF! With metal and you hit to put things together!"

The Blacksmith stares for a moment, bewildered, a brow slowly dipping as he's standing there mid-swing. The hiss of his forge behind him and the metal cooling on his anvil. "Uh.. Nails?"

"YES! NAILS!" Serraphine says, loud, boisterously, "We need several-" and she makes a box shape with her hands, "-things... with the sides. BOXES! We need boxes of nails! We bring things for trade!"

Gregor nods about the haggling, and nods quickly about being clear. A bit nervously because she's being pretty strange and intense. He follows along into the shop, though, and witnesses how Lancers haggle. It's even more confusing. He'll help where he can, though he's not really crafty, himself. But he knows how to set up a farrier's shed. And other basics. He will help where he can. "Hammer, nails, anvils, a small forge..."