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Frontier - Act Two, Chapter One


Parrhesia
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Urgh. Urgh. This guy.

"Hey, Su!" Julianne called out. "You don't mind if I call you that, do you? It sounds a little nicer and easier on the lips. I just wanted something... I don't know, to replace this, I suppose," she said, glancing at the shopkeeper. "I mean, if you've got anything particularly nice that would be great, but as long as I can move around in it, it'll work out."

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"Yah. Can," Su San answered quickly before looking around at all the poorly armoured variety of wares in the shop. "That one good!" the foreigner exclaimed pointing at a gown that was...strange in design. It sported only one colour and that was pale blue, but it had a strange cut to the midriff, large enough to expose the belly while the side skirts had long slits one side all the way up to the waist. The cutting on top was odd, with the clothing covering the neck and mostly sleeveless.

"That one good. Su San buy for you," Su San told Julliane with a grin while feeling his petty cash and wondering if he had enough for some cheap questionable food in dingier quarters after such a purchase.

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You remind me of so many, many other men whom I'd love to see dead. Still, that dress could serve some... purposes...

"That actually does look pretty nice," Julianne smiled. "I dunno about the bottom half though, that could get in the way while running... What d'you think?" She asked, slipping the tailor a quick wink.

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Bekka raised an eyebrow slightly at the kebab, but decided to buy one anyways. After taking a bite, she quickly bought two more and nodded her thanks to the vendor befor heading back to the castle. While she walked through the halls, she kept an ear out for any interesting rumors.

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"An actress? Where's she now? Puttin' on some good shows er somethin'?" Sherry had wondered where her parents were from time to time, but had no actual clue, so didn't linger on the thought for long.

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"Well, it's your decision to make," said Cale blandly. "It's a popular fashion these days, particularly down in Camenica. I believe there's also a similar pattern with a shorter dress, if movement's a concern... ah yes, here." He walked over to a short skirt and a midriff top hanging from the same rack, both cut in velvet. "Would this suit you better?"

"I wonder what food there'll be at the castle," says a teenaged man of ponderous girth. "Meats, cheeses, wine, cakes..." He's still going by the time you leave him alone.

Cliving shrugged. "Still in Dracia last I heard." He pauses, opens his mouth as though to add something, but thinks better of it. "What about your family?" he asks after a while.

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Well, got him interested. Wonder how long I can keep him talking? Mary let a small smile dance across her lips. "When I was a young girl, I lost my brother. I felt like he could've been saved, but no one knew how. . .until a wandering apothecary explained everything. I joined him so that I wouldn't lose anyone else to something that could've been staved off easily. I came home once I was an adult. . .and my former neighbors wouldn't talk to me, or explain why my house was no longer there.

"I had to procure some outside help - in this case, a mercenary that happened to be around. I gave him a good amount of coin, and told him that I wanted to know what happened to my house, and to use any means necessary." She took a deep breath. Though it had been several years since that incident, she still remembered his report, nearly word-for-word. "He got my next door neighbor, Kimmel, drunk. The ale was enough to loosen his lips, and he spilled everything. My family had been executed, and their house torched because those ingrates thought that it was some sort of curse that killed my brother. Why a curse? In the two years between my brother's death and my family's destruction, there was a drought. In a cruel twist, it rained the next day. And the day after. And it didn't stop raining for the next month. 'course, everyone in the village thought that my family deserved to die, and the rain was a blessing. The fact that their harvest was ruined didn't matter to them.

"The mercenary played along, and after Kimmel stumbled out, he followed. When the village woke up the next morning, they found Kimmel and his entire family, dead. Kimmel held a bloody knife, which was impaled in his own abdomen. The villagers immediately assumed that Kimmel and his family were better off dead, because he spoke to the mercenary. No one bothered to question how a man who could barely stand could methodically slit the throats of his beloved wife and five kids, then have the presence of mind to stab himself through the liver. Instead, they burned the farm to the ground, corpses and all. Before he left, the mercenary told me that my village was already dead, and that it was something that I couldn't halt. . .and he was right. Those innocent deaths were justified by ignorance. And any place where death is celebrated is no place for an apothecary. I refuse to heal the festering wound that is their mindset." She shot Feran an apologetic grin. "I'm sorry that took so long. No one's asked me about it before."

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"Ooh... that does look beautiful," Julianne smiled. "I mean, the both of them do look great... Su?"

They'd both be good for various... ah, purposes. Come on, you horny, lusting native.

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"Still in Dracia? Thas all? Nothing' else to add?" Seemed odd. Unless his past was just something he hated talking about. Might be the explanation. Sherry was about to take a piece of whatever the bird was, when he asked about her family. "Mine? I..." she stiffened up, "haven't spoken to any of them in over ten years. Don't even know if they're still alive."

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"Either way, in this velvet? That will cost you. But the same cut in finest linen would set you back just a quarter of the price."

Cliving bit his lip. "You ever want t'... go back, try to find 'em? When all this's blown over?"

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Sherry had to think again. Something she'd been having to do a lot of, recently. It took her a few moments, but she finally let her shoulders drop. "Maybe. Not a top priority. Didn't get along with my mom, father only ever cared when I was firin' arrows. Might be worth the peace of mind t'know if they're still alive'r not, at least..."

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Cale coughed. "I'll need to take the young lady's measurements in this backroom. I do not believe you need to be present."

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Despite being a little disappointed, Su San nodded and stood by the entrance. Taking out a coin, the myrmidon flipped it in the air then caught it as he bet against himself if it was heads or tails. This he repeated for a long while.

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Feran listened intently, the story was gruesome enough to keep his attention, and twisted enough for him to remain interested. He didn't want to admit it, but he drew parallels to his own past... although he'd been a little less kind to the man who had finished his father. The utter chaos behind the village's actions, the betrayal of anything resembling logic, it was truly astounding. A series of deaths, justified by the flimsy premise of the ones that preceded them.

"There are some wounds that cannot be salved, death is the only true solution." Feran answered at last, having behaved himself throughout the entire tale. "There are some who fear what they don't understand, scared by the unknown."

Feran let out a small chuckle, his face widening into a mad grin. It made sense, people were stupid, worthless, only there to satiate their own selfish desires.

"Fools don't deserve their lives, whether it be disease or a cold knife, they're there for the taking."

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The measurements are done efficiently and quickly, and Julianne is given a quiet assurance the dress will be ready by the next morning. "One question, though... do you want it dyed?"

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"For those that have stopped wanting to grow, to better themselves. . .are they not already dead? Your blade makes it official," Mary agreed quietly. "However, I think you'd be. . .bored by those in that village. Do you find chasing chickens around a coop enjoyable?"

Interesting reaction. I'd expect him to say something halfway through, but he listened to the entire thing. I wonder. . .what was taken from him?

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"Trying to win her favor, at least for the night?" Cynric calls to the stupid-looking foreigner he noticed earlier as he walks toward the tailor's shop. "For a few coins, I can tell if you're fated to succeed or not by the creases of your hand. I can even predict how you'll fare in the near future otherwise, and perhaps... might be able to help convince her of your worth. What say you?"

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"Disease could take years to end them, by blade would do it in a single night" Feran answered, somewhat baffled by the fact he'd held a conversation this long without scaring someone away. Why wasn't she trembling, looking at him with disgust? Were his tricks not working? "I can't say I'm one to rear animals, I much prefer to let others tend to themselves."

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Su San looked to his side, surprised at the sudden conversation he was entrusted with. Shaking his head, the foreigner answered, "No. Su San only wan if free. Su San pay gold, see pritty girl in pritty clothes. Good 'nuff."

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