The #Broken_Dagger Forum

"The two of them, you say." The guardsman ran his fingers along his jaw, as he scratched absently at the stubbled growth of dark hair there. For a moment of absolute silence, he watched the trembling man that was seated across from him. His elderly face, his wide eyes, and the way his hands were frozen in position, clutching one another. These were not the mannerisms of a guilty man.

The old man startled faintly and looked upward, at the constable. His head bobbed slowly, his expression bewildered, despite the number of times he had explained what it was he had witnessed only hours before.

"Yes. Twin boys; they had asked to work my fields. I gave them boarding and some pay, in exchange for the labor. They - always on time, you see. It was this morning, the first that they had been late. I - went to check - to be sure all was well. I've.. never seen." He faultered still, gave the other man a shake of his head and dropped his gaze to his feet. His lower lip quivered, threatened to break the delicate hold he had on his emotions.

"White as the sheets they lay on. No wounds, no blood. As cold as the bitter wind."

The guardsman set a heavy hand on one of the old man's shoulders. "Just stay here. We may have more questions." He stood from his own chair and made his way across the room, to where another of his profession stood in wait. Quiet words were exchanged, accompanied by an errant glance, here and there, back toward the farmer.

"A girl. Last night. In the town." Bits and pieces overheard, though not intentionally. The man could only imagine what it was they were discussing. Had someone else been killed? Is it some strange plague? Had he been exposed to the sickness?

It is simply the way of things within places such as Myrken. Secrets do not remain secrets for very long, rumors spread just as quickly as wild fire upon a summer dry field. By night fall a small, particular set of ears would have heard and would spread such words even further.

The first to know? Why she would go to Lyonette -- the woman with the poor bleeding heart for children. Did she not already shelter both she and Phlynn? Abominations in some eyes. Others of more position. CroWWing of course and the man in the cemetary.

Oh such things that child-shaped mouth shall say before settling back quietly to wait and watch. It is so very much like a game of chess. Charlotte liked games. They thrilled till her faery-laughter filled the darkest places.

Dark-fall. At home in her manor grand - the old place creaked and moaned as if it were a live thing.

In the library to be exact, surrounded by her beloved books and undisputed domain. So much more she could of claimed if she had pushed the issue, then again her kind ruled from behind the throne. Not upon the satin and velvet cushions. King maker and King breaker. She was good at breaking things - even people. Practice made perfect.

Now she sat in a elegant, seemingly fragile chair. Curve of wood leg, graceful arc - ending in a traditional claw foot, Quill, parchment and ink were before her. Smudges of the black liquid decorated her fingers. Quiet place, at least for the moment. Only the sound of a antique time piece toked out the perhaps wrong hours of the day..

Silent little stockinged feet, ash pale colored curls. So perfect was the black dress. Doll like lace decorated the pretty hems and there she was, peering over the edge of the desk Crow used as a writing table. Gray eyes met near like same and that piping voice echoed out in a curious way against the quiet, still air.

" It has happened again" She said. Voice muffled into her small pale hands. Still that set of very wise old eyes looked at Crow and waited for her response. So odd, such eyes set into that cherub face

Crow said nothing, simply taking it in. Just a look and the quill with it's feathered end was put aside. Her own hands clasped together, writing inked fingers interlocking with one another. Almost a gesture of prayer, or supplication - then again the child like being knew better.Words spoken from pursed caramel lush mouth.. "Yes. I expected as much. I did my best to try and avert such actions. Then again, you know humanity is rather dim."

Now she came and crawled up into CroWWing's lap, snuggling close. There was even a ragged teddy bear she held by a worn velvet arm. Poor thing was even threating to rip away. Once more that fairy like piping voice echoed out. "It's more a desperate cry for attention. Dead bodies littered about will always do the trick."

Curved close, teddy and all. Into the protective arms of one who cared. odd really that such beings could have such fierce and often at times bloody loyalty for one another. Then again, there was actually a code of honor among her kind. Almost militaristic. Never betray a kinsman and never leave anyone behind.

"Yes, I know that well enough. Still. It is somewhat troubling. Pawns used for no good reason. Then again I am sure the reason will be revealed soon enough." Words that were punctuated with a soft press of cool lip to even cooler cheek.

One mature hand was disentangled from the little girl side, scrabbling for a moment in a drawer that opened with a push of a digit. Ink stained fingers grasped a small thing between. A glimmer of platinum and diamonds. Signature things of this woman.

" Here. Just in case you need it. It will take you to a safe place in case you are ever in trouble you can not get out of." Such jewelry was of course beautiful and functional and made to fit the tiny fingers of the young miss.
Crow knew her companion. Well.

Sat. Still and quiet. Crow knew well enough there would be blessed little quiet in the future. Then again, she was not that concerned. It was more like an irritation. A rash that would simply not go away.. bothersome thing. Purse of lip again. She and the princess.

Two of many.