The Old Man (Open to others for their own plot advancements)

[Isobella]

How long had Janessa been coming here now? It seemed like she had known the old man forever. They had met at the Rememdium, he had come in with some sort of illness or other. The Doctor had treated him and he was there for a few days. She remembered being amazed at how old he actually was. He must have lived in Myrken a long time. Oddly enough at that time there had been few patients in the Rememdium and Janessa and the Old Man had found quite a bit of time to talk. She was enraptured with his tales of the past, and of course the Old Man would be content to have the company of a pretty, young woman.

When the man was ready to go home he asked Janessa if she would come by, help him tend to some of his needs. After all he was getting old and it wasn't so easy to cook for himself, or take care of himself very well and he had no family. She always had a sympathetic place in her heart for people and readily agreed.

So now she had been coming here for months, since the summer at least. The odd thing was, she still didn't know his name... She only called him "Sir", and he never offered anything otherwise. She couldn't help but to shake the feeling that there was more to this man than met the eye... after all, who could live in Myrken for near a hundred years and not have a story to tell for it?

[Treadwell]

It was morning in Myrken, and the events of the night before--namely, finding a note addressed to no one in particular claiming that the properties and claims of one Aloisius Treadwell were null and void and that they were to be confiscated by the Myrken Wood Council--had left a particular fairy king bamboozled. He'd decided it was time for possible answers to his other issues--namely, to see if anyone in Myrken Wood remembered a private Council session that took place and established New Hibera as a teeny tiny little pocket of a kingdom (though, yes, too small to appear on any map) over sixty years ago! Fairies had scoured the Wood during the night under strict orders to keep themselves magically invisible, looking around for anyone who might be around the age of eighty to a hundred years.

It's hard work! In these times, most folks don't live past being fifty or so, and, if memory serves, the councilors that King Richard and his advisors had dealt with were anywhere from their mid-thirties to, perhaps (he'd never asked, but he'd made a fair judgement call on this), their early sixties. It was the same back then, too: four Council posts, plus the Governor there for final say and for breaking any ties on votes. The Governor had been the eldest--a frail, gaunt, old chap. He'd likely have been buried long ago, and necromancy was certainly out of the question.

There aren't many left who might have lived so long. There's the town lunatic, one Tom Breckenridge, with no family left to his name, no books visible through the windows of his house, and no real contact with humanity. The garden of various herbs by his back door suggests some experience with farming, perhaps, or at the very least herbal medicines. However, the name Breckenridge isn't ringing any bells for the poor fairy.

And then there's perhaps the only other candidate: a man with a young woman taking care of his affairs at home. A glance through a window showed he at least seems to be fairly educated--plenty of books are there, chained to their shelves on the wall as a safety measure--and only moderately wealthy at best. The one problem here is that Aengus doesn't remember ever collecting any taxes from the fellow. There's a vague recollection of a very short list in his old office of exemptions for a number of reasons, and this address, for some reason, topped the list with the words "Unique case" and a brief note of explanation beside it. The problem is he can't remember the reason why; he never really looked at the list much.

Perhaps a short interview session might be in order.

[Isobella]

She had been noticed? What a strange thing for the woman.. she wasn't used to being noticed anymore. People in fact seemed apt to forget about her. But not the Old Man. He was her sole companion as of late it seemed, and she found herself looking forward to tending to his needs. She had a compassionate soul, and he reminded her a little of what it might have been like to have a father, or more realistically a grand father.

In fact it was this evening that she had come to check in on the Old Man. He was unusually mobile this day, following her about through his little home, hobbling on the cane and refusing to leave her to work in solitude. Perhaps he had noticed her loneliness, especially during the winter season where so many celebrated holidays with their families. The conversation was about her, as it so often was. The Old Man didn't speak much about himself, and she didn't ask. She was just glad to have the company.

She finished her work and turned to the Old Man.

"Is there anything else you need? I should probably be getting back to the tavern.. before it gets much later. It doesn't seem very safe to be travelling alone in the dark."

The Old Man settled into his large comfortable chair and seemed to chuckle just a little.

"Why little one... Myrken is a place of many suprises. Seems to me you could just as easily be the attacker as the attacked" His smile was wry, clearly teasing her. "Come join me for awhile aye?"

Janessa had always liked how well spoken he was, the Old Man was quite clearly educated, and based on his long life he couldn't have done anything too strenuous when young. She would nod, taking a seat near the fire, choosing the floor rather than a chair, her shoulders leaned against the warm stones surrounding the fireplace. It was her favorite spot, a reminder of the days when her Father used to tell her stories at the fireside.

"You work too hard Janessa, it troubles me that you havn't any family here. Perhaps you'd let an old man to treat you like a daughter..." Another smile from the old man and his creaky, wrinkled hand would reach for a small cloth wrapped package on the table beside him, extending it out to her. "A gift. You havn't a Father, and I havn't a daughter... I'd like you to have this."

A curious expression would cross the woman's face and she'd carefully unwrap it. The cloth would be pulled back to reveal a journal old and tattered with age. There would be no words printed on the front, but as she'd gently turn the cover the words inside would be written by a young man's hand from many years ago "A History of Myrken Wood". This was clearly the Old Man's journal.

[Treadwell]

A brief and personal visit to the old man in question by a certain portly fairy had sent the fairy in question on a whirling, spinning little emotional trip. He'd recognized the man as a certain gent who'd managed to catch him in a net years ago--there was a picture of a slightly younger Richard Aengus there in the old man's journal as proof!--and the old fellow had admitted to serving a stint on the Myrken Wood council at one point.

Other than that?

The old gent didn't say much.

He'd promised to look back over his notes in his journal--unlike the memories of one fairy king, this old man's memory was a bit foggy with age in things concerning matters of the fairy people.

Until then, Richard Aengus proves to be nothing short of jittery and nervous and quite unable to concentrate on writing any poetry or hunting any beasts. So, he opts for the safest possibility outside of those: continuing his swimming lessons that are, admittedly, some two hundred eighty years or more overdue. At least the fairy floats well enough on his own. . . .

[Isobella]

Weeks had passed and Janessa had been pouring through the old man's journal in what little spare time she had. However that spare time had been getting less and less... the old man's health had been failing, and he seemed to grow worse by the day. She was exhausted with her effort and rarely saw any of the town people anymore.