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Submitted By: Ranulf
All Characters Involved: Ranulf, Saynt, Doagle, Targoss, Andrade

Submitted Log

The central square of Cairhien is busy this early morning. A line of no less then ten horses packed for what seems like a long journey stand near the row of fountains sipping from their cool water. The smell of them fills the air and causes some commoners and merchants to pause in their daily routines and take note. Men and even some women mill about the horses speaking while a man stands on the edge of a moderately sized wooden wagon speaking with people near him. His long black hair and well broken in leather clothing announce him as someone who possibly travels, his cunning smile and personable works mark him as a man with something to sell. Down the street going south you can see a few people leading horses towards the square with traveling backs slung over their shoulders.

A black eyed, tan skinned youth mounted upon the back of a rather healthy looking, brown horse can be seen, headed toward the large crowd, eyeing the mass amount of people. His vest hangs open loosely, displayed a bare chest marked with a few scars that look to have been earned at the edge of a knife. He has a pleasant look, black eyes offering a soft and intelligent gaze. He tries to squeeze through the crowd, aiming at the gentleman adorned in his worn leather, with a smile on his face. [Targoss]

A tall, light haired man wearing dark colors walks up, his suit of chain mail glistening in the early sun. He adjusts the glasses hiding his dark eyes nervously with a hand holding a worn-looking book. A lightly curved sword rests at his side, carelessly thrust through his belt without even a scabbard. His green cloak billows out behind him as he quickly approaches the wagon, and the black lantern in his other hand lets off a faint glow, still lit from the night before. Adjusting his glasses once more, he stops in front of the wagon, leaning against it. Looking about, he hastily puts his book into the pouch at his belt so as not to lose it in the throng. [Doagle]

Working his way past the crowd, Ranulf glanced interestedly at the wagons and horses. A cloak obscured most of his body, but the hood was pulled down to reveal his face. He went towards the man at the wagon, but he took his time on a roundabout course, taking a closer look at the line of horses, the gathering of people and the wagon. [Ranulf]

Looking rather worn from travel, a willowy young woman with coppery skin ambles around with a slightly dazed expression. Pausing and tilting her head at the throng, she self-consciously brushes at her travel-worn dress (which clings in the typical Domani style). Timidly opening her mouth to ask a passer-by what is going on, the person doesn't seem to notice and she huffs out an annoyed little breath with a glance skyward, fidgeting in place and resigning herself to figuring it out on her own. Straightening her somewhat disheveled hair with one hand, she deliberately sways towards the gathering with just the right amount of pout on her lips to go with the confused tilt of her head. [Andrade]

Saynt sits on a bench near the fountains. His eyes are scanning a book in his hand, a staff leaning against the seat of the bench, within arm's reach. He looks up every now and then at the roiling crowd of people and wagons, but doesn't pay them much mind quite yet, engrossed in his reading. A piece of cheese spotted with blue globs of flavoring rests upon his lap, half covered in an oiled cloth to keep in moisture. He is humming something under his breath, something lilting and whimsical. The crowds walking by don't pay him much attention, disregarding him as much as they do any stranger in such a huge city. [Saynt]

The man from the wagon can be heard easily by those who approached him "There Caralain grass, has gold and treasure. Sign with Tramer's troupe and share in a cut of the riches. Support your families, find your fortune, claim land unclaimed for hundreds of years!" he makes a wide flourish with his arms and it is obvious his words stir the interest in some of the listeners. A young man with leather clothing and a well worn traveling cloak near the edge of the crowd that listens calls out in a demanding tone. "What proof of these riches do you have beyond rumor?" The speaker who may be called Tramer doesn't miss a beat and merely grins a sly grin. "Just this week a book from there was sold for 500 Gold Marks! He exclaims. The last bit he had said loud enough for all in the square to hear. "Simply go to the Rising Sun Auction to confirm the sale, if you doubt my word friends."

Coming close up to the back of the crowd, Targoss can see over the heads of the bystanders, as he is still mounted. Listening earnestly, the young Altaran finally dismounts, having heard confirmation of the rumors he'd heard since arriving in Cairhien not just a few days before. His horse's saddle is hung with a few bags, looking fit for travel, he holds the reigns of his horse, waiting to see if the man has anything else to announce before approaching. [Targoss]

The tall man leaning against the wagon looks about anxiously, and then takes the book back out of his belt, running his hand over the cover. He mutters to himself about not having time to read it, when suddenly somebody jostles his elbow, causing the book to drop to the ground several feet away. The crowd moves on as usual, and the foot disappears under their feet. A momentary lapse in the crowd reveals that the book has been trampled, the bindings torn apart and many of the pages lost. The remaining pages have been ground into the dust in a scattered heap, ruined completely. Swearing loudly, the tall man puts his hands on his head and rifles through the papers, but he finds none that are still legible. [Doagle]

Silently mouthing the words "five hundred gold marks," Ranulf sped up his pace. He moved steadily towards the wagon now. Calling out loudly so that he could be heard above the crowd, he asked, "Where do you sign to join this troupe? Who do you have to speak to?" He resumed pressing forward, listening intently for the response. [Ranulf]

Having heard no such rumors, the coppery skinned woman starts to raise an eyebrow in disbelief, disguising it just in time by throwing in a slight upturn of the left side of her mouth and a half-lidded gaze to make it a flirty smile accompanied by a small finger-wiggle of a hand wave as she scoots in closer. Standing close to the crowd enough to not seem disinterested, but not too close as to seem eager, she gnaws delicately on her lower lip and twists back and forth indecisively, only a playful glimmer in her green eyes showing she's plotting. [Andrade]

The mention of such large sums of gold doesn't seem to startle Saynt at all, his piercing emerald eyes now watching the speaker. As Ranulf begins shouting his question, Saynt stands and places the book in an inside pouch of his cloak and grabs his staff, moving towards the wagon to hear of these supposed relics more clearly. "What kind of artifacts have you been able to find so far? Any statues or plaques?" [Saynt]

His ears perked by requests to join from several of the listeners, Tramer winks. "Well that's easy. You bring a mount, supplies, and yourself here in the next hours and we set off... for riches and adventure." A few people are caught up in the mans excitable words and cheer in response. Several quickly hurry away to do as he said possibly. Women chase them shouting at them for being fools in most cases. Tramer spots a woman smiling at him and offers a friendly smile to Andrade in return, if not a bit of a roguish one as well. Looking up from the smiling Andrade to Saynt when he inquires he makes a tut tut noise. "Now now, I suppose I could show you." Dipping his hand behind his back he pulls from his belt presumably a golden locket hung on a golden chain. Holding it out he lets it spin to reveal an emerald embedded on the back of the locket shaped in the as the head of a hawk.

A single brow skyrocketing, the black eyed Altaran's nose twitches dubiously at the sight of the hawk shaped locket. Somehow ignoring the book-bashing festival, the man leads his horse forward slowly, and then turns to the brash, leather bound gentleman to say in a vibrant, but deep voice "I'm in." [Targoss]

The tall man turns around at Tramer's comments, momentarily forgetting the loss of his book. He says, "Are we required to have a mount?" He frowns as he speaks, adjusting his spectacles once more. "I'm not sure that with this rush, I'll be able to get one. What do those of us without mounts do?" His dark eyes widen as he remembers his book, but then he sighs loudly and sticks to his current course of action, seeking answers. [Doagle]

"This will be profitable. I'll be joining you as well." Ranulf added his agreement, glancing over at the other man to voice those sentiments. He offered the man a small nod of greeting, then turned his attention back to Tramer, listening to the continued comments and questions. [Ranulf]

Trying to make the most of the brief amount of time she has Tramer's attention, she throws in both a light blush and a shy brush at one springy lock of hair, looking away as she mentally adds up the things she's lacking to even go as opposed to the value of that amulet. Fortunately one of the gentlemen spared her having to ask about mounts, leaving her more time to focus on her small, discreet movements and 'hesitant' glances towards Tramer. [Andrade]

Trying to get closer to the speaker and the locket, Saynt pulls a slim, paperback book from his cloak and begins flipping through the pages quickly, glancing up at the locket every few seconds before flipping through the pages and reading a passage. "Hrm seems I am in as well." he says determinedly as the book snaps shut and disappears into his cloak again. Finishing off his cheese in one bite, he says around the mouthful, "What of wagons? A rented wagon suits me better than some jostling beast." [Saynt]

Tramer makes a face as if deeply concerned. "Well I do have a second wagon. For a silver penny a day you may ride. The first five are all It can hold I'm afraid." a few people already hold out hands with silver in them. "Now now, we must not pick so hastily." he says with a pleased chuckle. Hopping off the wagon onto the stone of the square he nods. The horse line has grown to at least fifteen. "I will speak with any who wish to ride in a wagon in a moment." The crowd seems placated for the time being. A few of the people next to the horses have symbols or coloring of Cairhien houses. Tramer meanwhile is busy making his way toward Andrade. "m'lady." he says sweetly reaching for one of his hands with his black gloved ones.

"Stab my liver...", whispers the young, black eyed man, before nodding curtly, remounting and heading back in the direction he'd come in, looking thoughtful. [Targoss]

Nodding contentedly, the tall man mutters to himself. Pushing his glasses up on his nose, he checks himself for extra money. Feeling the weight of his purse, he nods once more. He looks back for a moment at the sad remains of his book, then turns his head forward and doesn't look back. He approaches Tramer through the crowd, advancing slowly through the many people. [Doagle]

Turning around and putting his back to the wagon, Ranulf began to work his way through the crow. He moved at a faster pace, pushing to leave the square. [Ranulf]

Shrinking at realizing she's become somewhat the center of attention, she makes sure she looks suitably embarrassed while hesitantly lifting her hand towards Tramer, green eyes widened slightly as they stare at the man in front of her, mumbling a squeaky little greeting where she breathily introduces herself...letting the corners of her mouth twitch just a little, as if she were actually overly jittery to be up this close staring at him. [Andrade]

Andrade rests one finger lightly against her lips, almost unnoticeably rubbing it back and forth between them a bit as she puts up a markedly feeble protest, "Well, I don't know...I just got here, and I've never spent much time out in the wilds, but then again..." she leaves it deliberately hanging as she twists her torso slightly from side to side.

Tramer's grin turns from friendly to the kind of look a cat has when it's trapped a mouse. "m'lady I assure you. Wealth, title, and eternal life in song await you if you journey with my troupe. We will be hailed as the men and women who found the great treasures of Hawkwing's Empire and brought them back to the world once more."

Andrade lets the man keep her 'innocent' emerald gaze trapped, quivering lips slightly parted as she slowly nods her head, breathily relenting with a deep inhale, "H-how could I refuse such an offer? I will go!"

"Excellent!" he says in a cheerful tone. "You should get what you wish to travel with Lady Andrade, and await me at my wagon." he points to the wooden wagon of the sort a tinker might own but not the color. "I must speak with men about riding aboard the extra wagon." With that he is off into the crowd to speak with people interested in paying the silver pence to rid along without a horse.

Andrade walks backwards slowly, not taking her eyes off of Tramer and keeping that barely-restrained schoolgirl nervous grin as she gives him another delicate finger-wiggling wave, before turning to go gather what she needs and letting a triumphant grin take its place.

The tall man sighs again and takes out a heavy silver coin from his purse. He finally makes it to Tramer, handing it to him. He says, "This ought to cover the trip." Without another word he leans on the wagon much closer this time, waiting until he could be directed to the extra wagon. [Doagle]

Taking the coin he nods, "Make sure you stay close so no one takes your spot." with that he walks into a crowd of eager men.

Within an hour, Saynt has returned, riding a massive ebony warhorse, albeit unsteadily. He gives Tramer a shrug and steers the beast over to the trail of other riders assembled behind the wagons. Giving the other riders a polite nod, he takes an apple from a brown paper bag in his hand and begins munching on it slowly, already engrossed in yet another tome, this one looking much older than the previous ones [Saynt]

The second wagon, this one of canvas arrived shortly before the designated hour was up. Doagle and four other men are loaded into it with their packs. They each must take turns as wagon driver if they have the skill. Meanwhile the line of horses is broken into two lines to ride side by side out of the city gate. At the back of this train is Tramer's wagon with himself driving and Lady Andrade beside him. Everyone is talking about the journey and the profit ahead. It has only been an hour since leaving the Foregate on their way to the Caralain Grass.

The sun is high in the afternoon sky and the heat is not so bad that the northern winds do not keep everyone cool. The houses walk along the dirt path through the field with ease. Even the wagons make it with only minor jostling. A particularly outspoken man in the horse line is beside Ranulf and diagonal from Targoss and Saynt who ride in front and behind Ranulf respectively. His hair is short cut and his stature while unknowable in exactness due to him riding in a saddle is most likely short. He speaks to the three in excitement. "I'm Leroy Landse, who are you lads?" the man asks.

Blinking as his gaze comes up to look at Leroy, unfocused for a few moments as he remains silent. "Oh, I'm Saynt. Nice to meet you Leroy." Inclining his head politely, Saynt resumes reading and loses focus on the people around him, swaying gently in the saddle by now, having gotten accustomed to the beast's motions somewhat. His paper bag is nearly empty, so when he reaches into it and only pulls out a strip of salted venison, he grimaces and looks around, in search of more to eat. [Saynt]

Having been wide-eyed and talkative when the trip started, Andrade now has settled into a seemingly more relaxed posture (while artfully trying to always keep turned to the best angle while bouncing about on the wagon seat). She remains attentive to anything Tramer might say though, and is quick to gush over any sort of small furry animal she might see. [Andrade]

Glancing over at Leroy, Ranulf nodded to the man. Casually, "I'm called Turom." He had removed his cloak, revealing the cutlass at his hip. He looked comfortable in the saddle. "Are you an experienced member of the troupe, or a new addition like the rest of us?" [Ranulf]

A light sheen of sweat glistens on the bare chest of the tanned young Altaran as he rides rather skillfully, a small hand-sized book held in one hand, resting against the horse's neck as he handles the reins easily with his other hand. The sharp, long curved knife at his belt glistens brightly in the sunlight. He is at about the halfway point of his book, and seems rather absorbed by his read as he meanders along. Leroy gains his attention though, as he turns to look back at the other three men talking amongst one another, turning to look ahead of him once in awhile to better lead his horse. After the three have introduced themselves in turn, the Altaran says in an Ebou Dari accent, "And I am Targoss, the Light's blessing on you all." Awaiting responses after his brief statement, he turns back to acknowledging his book, peeking back once in awhile. [Targoss]

Tramer is seated in a comfortable position as well. Andrade's kindness in her positioning is not lost on the man who speaks to her every so often. "Once on the borders of the blight there was an expedition to find the Horn of Valere. I of course volunteered quite readily for such a task." he said in a very matter of fact tone. Leroy flashes a polite smile. "Lights blessing on you Targoss. It is nice to encounter someone with manners. It is so rare these days." He gives a meaningful look to Saynt and Ranulf.

Saynt doesn't even glance up when Ranulf speaks, but when Targoss says his name, he notices the book he is reading and smiles. "A reader, hm? What book is that?" With a curious look, Saynt tries to get a closer look by leaning sideways in his saddle, nearly falling off before scrabbling for the pommel of his saddle and resettling himself comfortably. He disregards Leroy's comment out of habit and continues looking at Targoss, his curiosity still piqued after nearly falling on his face. [Saynt]

Regardless of whether she actually believes it or not, her quick head-turn that leaves her ringlets of long dark hair bouncing and excited gasp seem real enough, leaning slightly closer and looking up at Tramer with glittering green eyes that beg to hear the story almost as much as her words do, "Did you f--well, obviously you probably didn't find it, but did you see any Shadowspawn, or see any ruined cities?" [Andrade]

"Not find it?" He says with an amused laugh he leans in to her his face only a few inches from hers. "Not only did we find it m'lady but the dark one himself sent dark hounds to chase us once we had!" leaning back to his position before he gives an assured nod. "It was an adventure that will be spoken off in the borderlands for some time I assure you. We had it in a chest and fled from the dark hounds as fast as we could."

"My apologies for not being more polite. It?s easy to forget the formalities in excitement about what we can expect to find." Ranulf said to Leroy. At the mention of a book, he glanced over towards Targoss to see. He didn?t strain himself to see, with only a hint of curiosity on his face. [Ranulf]

Giving a polite eye to Leroy, the Altaran offers a polite laugh, saying simply "I'm sure they meant no harm, Master Leroy. Men of great thought are often forgetful of simple words of kindness being as their minds are too full of bountiful information." He then turns a little, nodding to Saynt, saying "Not one of my more interesting reads, just a small book with some basic maps, and information on both Stedding and a few Ogier myths." He breathes in deeply, seeming to enjoy the fresh air about him, and he smiles, saying finally "Alas, the Stedding do sound like lovely places, hopefully I will see them someday. It is an inspiring thought." [Targoss]

Andrade pulls back just a quarter-inch with a playfully indecisive look, one torn between wanting to belief and finding it difficult to do so. Her breath catches in her throat, fingers jittery as they caress the soft cotton of her clinging dress, "Did you -really- find the Horn? Do you still have it, is it here in the wagon? Are you going to blow it if we get attacked by bandits?"

Leroy nods, "That is true Master Targoss, true indeed. I am a regular in the troupe." he adds with a less formal tone. With the mention of Ogier and steddings the mans eyes widen. "Ogier? Those are just fairy tales." he says in a doubtful tone. Meanwhile Tramer offers up a sorrowful smile. "Alas m'lady Dark Hounds are faster then any man or horse. We had to throw it back to keep from dying to them or the other shadowspawn chasing us."

Andrade allows one hand to lightly rest on Tramer's elbow as she lets out a stricken gasp, liquid green eyes mirroring her supposed inner turmoil, "You gave it back to them? Couldn't you have used it to...to....do something to them? Surely the Heroes of the Horn would have come forth and slain your pursuers!"

"Ogier hm? I once visited a Stedding, very beautiful place. Very ordered and methodical as well, I enjoyed the trip. Some say Ogier myths are more accurate than our own, as their lives are much longer so the myths are not as jumbled and butchered because they aren't retold so often." HE begins searching through a large bag tied to the saddle of his massive warhorse, then straightens back up with a long, thin pamphlet listing books found in the library of Caemlyn. "There are at least 4 shelves alone devoted to Ogier myths, traditions, and other Ogier written books in Caemlyn. If you ever get the chance, do visit. The Ogier I met there were quite friendly and willing to answer questions. Their patience is astounding." As he speaks his smile widens, and his eyes brighten with the memories. As he hands the pamphlet to Targoss he seems very excited and animated. [Saynt]

"It may not be one of the more interesting books, but entertainment is short on a long trip by horseback." Ranulf observed with a slight frown. Turning back to Leroy, he asked, "Do you suppose you could tell us more about how the troupe, perhaps share your experiences in it? Or you could share tales of other artifacts you found at caralain grass." He smiled slightly in anticipation of the response. [Ranulf]

Dumbfounded, Targoss looks to not know whether to believe the man or not. He easily slides his book into a pocket of his gray cotton pants, the fingers of that hand seem to just lightly stroke the long curved knife at his belt before extending a hand to accept said document. "Caemlyn...", whispers Targoss to himself as he takes the document, mulling over it. "It is indeed an honor to meet an educated man such as you." He says this, indicating Saynt, before turning to Leroy. "I must thank you humbly, Master Leroy, for introducing yourself and interrupting the quiet, allowing me to meet you fine gentlemen." Briefly, he looks back at the document, a bit spellbound at the prospect of the Saynt man not being a complete lunatic, that perhaps Ogier really DO exist. [Targoss]

"Well... I" Leroy says before stopping himself and collecting his thoughts. "The troupe's been around for a few years. Lost some good men in the blight going after the horn or so we were told. Tramer's eyes narrow as his face becomes confused. "I do believe the chest was made of heartstone m'lady. None could break that!" he says his easy smile and swaggering demeanor returning. Leroy himself motions ahead of them at the fields they travel. "We've never been to the grass before, the rumor of the ruins of Hawkwing's empire have only just come out you know."

Seeming to accept this answer after a moment, she deflates with a deep exhale and lets the hand slowly slide off Tramer's elbow, getting quite downcast at the prospect of having actually lost such a treasure back to the Blight, briefly casting a dark cloud over her cheery disposition. [Andrade]

Saynt smiles warmly and shakes his head humbly. "You honor me, Master Targoss, but I am not so well educated compared to the scholars of Tar Valon. If only the Sedai would allow me to peruse their fabled libraries without interruption for a decade or so, I would gladly claim the title of an educated man....No, I am just a traveler and a fanatic of ancient things. Books, stories, items of ages long past. They fascinate me." Stroking his goatee twice, he chuckles to himself and reaches into yet another bag tied to his mount, pulling out a wrapped package with both hands. Setting it on the saddle in front of him, he unwraps it quickly and takes a slice of cured ham from the dish, putting a thinly cut, sugared slice of apple on top of it before taking a bite. He offers it to the men around him, "Want some? Might as well eat it before it gets too dry. The curing only keeps it good for so long." He quickly finished his first slice and grabs another, munching on it more slowly." ?You ever been to the Blight yourself, Master Leroy?" His bushy eyebrows raise a little at the question, but his expression otherwise remains the same. [Saynt]

Frowning for a moment, Ranulf shrugged. "I suppose I was just getting my hopes up." He admitted. "Your leader was proudly displaying a locket from Hawkwing?s time, so I thought perhaps you had been there before, if briefly." He smiled again. "I suppose there is a certain excitement from the fact that we will be among the first to see the city after a thousand years." [Ranulf]

Tramer offers a reassuring smile, "No worries for surely we will find treasures to match even the horn here." he declares assuredly. Leroy offers a shrug, "I don't know if a city still exists. From what I've heard it's partially buried ruins of buildings here and there."

Turning to Ranulf, Saynt nods approvingly. "Yes it will be exciting won't it? Not a thing disturbed in such a very, very long time. Can you imagine what we'll find....ruins, books written by those long gone, maybe even weapons of an ancient army. That's be something to place on my mantle. A sword not wielded since Hawkwing's time...or an Ashandarei. Oh I just can't wait!" His excitement growing, Saynt stops himself a takes a few deep breaths, looking slightly abashed at his exuberance. [Saynt]

The troupe traveled until the sun neared the horizon. With the fading light camp was set up a fair distance from the city of Cairhien. Tramer leaves Andrade to her own devices while he organizes the camp site preparations. Men are sent to gather firewood and the like while another group makes the horse line proper. It also seems Tramer is has a fine voice and a fair hand with a lute as he sings of the hunt for the horn and even a few songs involving himself and the regular troupe members.