The Light-Hearted Stones of the Weeping Wall [Isabetta]

[Iseult Fluersdotter]

First Cycle of Kalendryas
Season of Winter

As the Wall of Weeping loomed into view, Iseult's heart hammered uncomfortably. She had known, from the poor houses around her, that she'd taken a wrong turn, but she had hoped, through her attempts to backtrack, that she might find her way out of the maze of homes and streets and get back to a place that was less filthy, less questionable in its crowd. Instead she'd only found her way to the very heart of the rundown quarter, face-to-face with a hulk of stone and mortar. She'd always been terrible with directions and once more she'd proven herself completely incompetent in finding her way through the city, never mind that she'd been living there for months.

Iseult drew up her spindly frame to its full height, nearly a full six feet and all of her created of long, lanky limbs that were more angles and bones than healthy curves and flesh. She hated this quarter of this city, this sharp reminder of poverty where people did their best to make ends meet. Whores lived here. Sighting a whore, with her round flesh visible despite the cloak that she wore half-draped around her against the cold, Iseult shuddered and looked away, dark, half-breed eyes settled on the road that wound out ahead of her. The whores always reminded her of her mother, a hateful woman with a sharp temper and selfish inability to give much love and attention to her children...unless they'd done something wrong and she was in a rotten mood.

Despite herself, Iseult stepped towards the Wall of Weeping, away from the whore she'd spotted down the lane. She had been here in the past. She had visited with Ci'aran Leonard and although the events that had cascaded forward from that visit remained fuzzy and uncertain for the half-breed, she did recall that they had not been good.

Iseult tugged her cloak tight around her slim body, making a mental note of the position of her coin purse--not that she brought much along with her these brightenings given the fact that she'd been robbed than just once in her life--and strode forward with her shoulders shifted back and her chin level. She did not want to come off as too arrogant or self-confident, but neither did she wish to skulk and creep and perhaps set herself off as a target in that regard. Besides, she'd never been particularly good at skulking and creeping, blunt and forthright as she often tended to be.

She stood in front of the Wall of Weeping, almost daring it to come to life with its spooks and goblins, her hands wrapped around the edges of her cloak to keep her gloved appendages warm. She struggled to come up with the right direction to take. She could walk along the wall. Perhaps that might find her a way out of this place easier than trying to walk the labyrinth of streets. But did she dare test the mettle of the rumored ghosts that resided within the wall?

Might as well. It was better than mingling with the whores.

So she struck out southward along the wall, striding along with her chin up, trying not to looked nervous and uncomfortable as she kept close to the wall.

ooc: timestamp updated

[Isabetta Leonard]

"Go to the third street and then two lefts and a right... or was it two rights and a left? And did the alleyway count as a street or was it just an alleyway?"

Isabetta frowned. Her elegant brow furrowed as she considered the options around her with a rosy lower lip caught between pearly teeth. Surely the inn could not be much farther. The gentleman who had offered her directions assured her that it was simple to find. 'You can't miss it', he'd said and yet, somehow, she'd missed it.

The tall, willowy form made a slow circle in the middle of the intersection of streets, her boots echoing sharply in each direction. Long, sun-bleached hair seemed to reflect the moons light, giving her an ethereal glow. As she turned, she looked around for another body, someone to clarify the directions that were muddled within her head, but this part of town seemed less occupied. Or perhaps it was that the brightening was wearing on and smarter people had moved into the warmth of hearth and home.

Her breath billowed out before her in frozen clouds. Slender hands grasped tighter at the woolen cloak about her neck, shutting out the wintery night air. Beneath the garment, she shivered, though not entirely due to the cold. She'd never been out on her own before. Her aunts hadn't wanted her to go at all, but they knew she wouldn't be dissuaded. She had to make it to Trysvale, to the place of her birth. Surely clues about who she was were still there to be found.

Stormy eyes finally settled on a street, chosen more because it was wider and seemed somehow friendlier than the others. She couldn't stand here all darkening and without a clue of which way to go, one path was as good as the next. At least moving would warm her body.

The clacking of her boots on cobblestones reverberated too loudly for her ears. She tried to move more silently, but even her heart seemed to echo loudly, fluttering in her chest like a dove in a snare. She held her breath lest it give her away as well, until she could hold it no more and had to let it out in another cloud of steam.

Finally, two forms appeared in her field of vision and Isabetta's course veered to intercept them. Perhaps they could help the lost woman find her way to a blazing fire and a downy comforter. And warm cider, she decided. Definitely warm cider.

"Whut's the likes of you doin down 'ere 'bouts? You wantin' a job, cause this 'ere is our street."

"Maybe she's wantin' ta pay fer a poke. Look et 'er. She surely 'as some coins 'idden in the folds. Come on, now. Lets 'ave a look!"

Isabetta stopped short, staring in horror at the two forms. She backed up a few steps, hoping they didn't decide to follow, before turning and moving briskly in another direction to the cackles and catcalls of the beings she left behind. Her feet moved at a half run, against her upbringing as a lady. A lady never ran, but she certainly wasn't going to wait around for those two to catch up to her.

She couldn't remember which direction she'd taken after that encounter, whether she had turned or continued in one direction. It was all a hazy blur of fear until, suddenly, a wall was blocking her path and she couldn't go any further. Her breath quickened as imagined villains caught her, standing there looking dumbly up at the looming edifice before her. She felt trapped.

Her eyes traveled the length of the wall, first left and then right, wondering which would be the safest way to follow but nothing gave a clue in either direction. Her feet finally started moving of their own accord. Again she moved briskly, though slower than her previous flight and eventually, she came upon yet another form. Isabetta slowed, wondering if the person was walking her way or if she was closing the gap in her haste. Her last encounter left her leary, but this one was alone and if they weren't vile like the last, then perhaps they would help her get back to where she belonged. Still, she didn't want to get too close. If the person turned out to be a threat, she wanted a decent space between them to be able to get away.

"S-serale?" she called hesitantly, her head cocking to one side like a bird as she eyed the newcomer warily.

[Seyren Leonard]

The frantic pitter-patter of small feet echoed across this empty street as she continued running forward as fast as her legs could carry her. This was the reason she hated dogs even more the sharp-fanged and smelly variety, an example of which was the that had been chasing her only awhile ago but thankfully she had lost it - and apparently herself in the process as well. In the urgent need to escape Seyren had stumbled upon a strange looking wall and an even more unfamiliar sections of Jaedaxia.

It was a sloven place, that was the conclusion she had arrived to when she looked around to empty houses and barred windows. Sure there were people, shady ones and frightening men who seemed to leer at her in a way that made the hair at the back of her neck stand up. She definitely wanted out of this place though exactly how she was going to accomplish that without asking for directions she didn't know.

After walking for half a candlemark later Seyren opted for another idea. Instead of aimlessly navigating the twisting alleys of this district she retraced her steps returning to the wall and decided to follow it until she reached the gates, surely there had to be an entrance or exit if there was a wall after all - at least she hoped so.

Eventually as Seyren followed the length of the wall she did come upon something that did look out of place, the silhouette of two women that didn't resemble a whores appeared in the distance. Seyren cautiously approached the two figures, a hand gripping the handle of the dagger she had hidden in the pockets of her coat as she did.

When the other girl said 'Serale' Seyren quickly understood that this girl too was lost, it was evident in her voice. Picking up the pace the young Leonard lifed one hand in the air as if to get the pair's attention. "Serale as well, are you two lost?" she piped, head leaning forward and eyes squinting to make out their faces.

"I-Iseult?"

[Iseult Fluersdotter]

She refrained from touching the wall, although the reassurance that the sturdy structure was there would have been a welcome thing beneath the skimming of her fingers. Yet she couldn't help but feel wary and intimidated by the stories of the wall. She never considered herself truly superstitious. Never really believed in ghosts and the like. But this place set herself on edge, sent shivers of discomfort down her spine that she couldn't quite banish, no matter how hard she tried.

Iseult was content to ignore her surroundings, to wrap herself up in simply finding her way out of Cloison and into a place that was less sketchy and run down. The residential area where she lived or the Quarter du Sud would have been preferable. She would have taken either, at least there she had a better chance of picking her way through the streets and finding her way back to her home. She knew those areas well enough. But not this place.

She heard the hesitant 'serale' and she ignored it, staring resolutely ahead, not wishing to get involved with some beggar woman who thought Iseult might have a spare coin or two. She felt the brief fear that maybe the voice had actually been that of a ghost and she continued forward, pace quickening slightly. But then she heard the other voice. The second one pipe up and ask if the two of them were lost. Her name.

She shifted, turned towards the source and was immediately shocked into stillness as she realized that the person who'd spoken her name was...the Leonard girl. What was her name? Seyren? She looked from Seyren to the slight blonde with her pale blonde hair. She looked terrified. Terrified and frail. Was that the source of the trembling 'serale' she had heard previously?

"Seyren?" Iseult straightened, trying to do her damnedest not to look wary and discomforted by her surroundings. Iseult usually prided herself on her ability to lock away her emotions for some length of time and draw on a steady, bland facade. Her impatience and temper often got the best of her, however, if not as beautifully as Lynessa's.

She took a hesitant step towards the pair, her glance towards the thin woman hesitant. She didn't know this woman. That was always cause enough for uncertainty. "You don't look like you belong here," Iseult observed lightly, brows furrowing. No, the woman certainly did not look as if she didn't belong. But then she figured Seyren didn't either. And Iseult most certainly knew that she did not. "You all right?" she asked Isabetta...very politely. She could be polite. When the situation warranted it. And when she felt like it.

[Isabetta Leonard]

Despair and relief both washed over Isabetta like hot and cold water as she realized that the first figure was going to keep on moving without offering her aid. Perhaps she hadn't heard the call, or perhaps she was as callous as her rejection made her seem. Beth couldn't know which and figured it really mattered little - the end result was the same. She was still alone and lost.

The appearance of the second figure brought Isabetta's head up sharply. She eyed the newcomer warily until the woman opened her mouth to speak. She had at least offered a civilized greeting, somewhat easing Isabetta's frazzled nerves.

Beth pushed her cloak back as she approached the pair, showing her hands to be free of weapons. Beneath the outer garment, she wore a high-waisted dress of blue wool. The upper and lower sleeves were segmented and held to the dress by ribbons tied together. A cream blouse peeked above the modest neckline and at the shoulders, elbows and wrists. She would rather have pulled the cloak tighter about her, protection not only from the cold, but from the gazes of the two strangers as well.

"Serale," she said again, stronger this time, now that she had the attention of the two before her. Apparently they knew one another, though from the cool greeting, she could only assume their relationship was mere acquaintance.

"I'm looking for the inn," she offered in response to Iseult's query. As she spoke, she glanced to the side, wary of anyone else approaching unseen. Her gaze came back to the pair of women and she offered a semi-convincing smile to assure the woman that she was 'fine' before she continued. "I've only just arrived in Jaedaxia. I must have missed a turn somewhere."

[Seyren Leonard]

"You're a long ways from the inn, that's for sure." For some reason Seyren really wasn't so inclined to believe this girl despite appearances. Maybe it was the ambiance of this seedy place or she could attribute it to having just spent candlemarks working on a double-shift but right now she just didn't feel so accommodating to this new one, no matter if she was easy on the eyes. "I'm Sey she's Iseult, you are?" and she also mentioned she had taken a wrong turn didn't she, this newcomer was clearly just as clueless as to the way out of this place as she was.

If the girl would answer her question without a hitch she could finally turn to Iseult and hopefully she could provide her the means of escape from this dreary neighborhood. "I was chased by a dog, ended up here." the girl shook her head, dark curly locks swaying as she did. She really wasn't expecting to see Iseult here of all places but being here with a familiar face was much better than being here alone and defenseless. "So, do you happen to know the way out of this place?" for once her voice wasn't neutral but almost pleading and this would probably be the first and last time Iseult would her than tone in her voice if she could help it.

[Crimson]

And so two Leonards and a relative through marriage met along the Wall of Weeping. It was all very odd, of course, to find three women along the supposedly cursed stones of the haunted wall. This was where the demons and ghosts played, according to many mothers; or where vampires and werewolves preyed on small children. Whatever the case, the Moons hung over the dark skies that wintery darkening, casting its silvery beams along the cobblestones of Jaedaxia. Here, on her particular corner of the Carmelyn, a different sort of element greeted the Winter shadows. Here, something else entirely played and preyed along the Weeping Wall.

The three ladies conversed, exchanged pleasantries, names, etc. This was a very lady thing to do. Well, maybe not for Iseult. Nevertheless, something was prowling over the age-stained roof of the Wall. Its paws were light, silent, and clawed. It hovered almost invisibly behind Seyren's head as she/he/whatever continued to talk with the other two. It was Iseult, however, whose attention span was waning, who managed to catch a glimpse of the creature. Her eyes widened as her mouth threatened to scream -- but no voice came.

The dark feline creature pounced, leaped into the air from behind Seyren and Iseult estimated that it would definately maul her newfound friend if nothing was done to prevent it. Isabetta, still half scared out of her wits, saw this scene unfold from beside Iseult. The two ladies were thus granted a split second decision to save their girlfriend's life.

[Iseult Fluersdotter]

The woman looked harmless enough and dressed in a way that she clearly did not belong wandering the Cloison, a fact only further emphasized by the confirmation that she had indeed been looking for an inn, not the wall where she had miraculously ended up. Iseult eyed the woman thoughtfully, making note of Seyren's own reticence and the wary edge in her voice. Nonetheless, their names were given and Iseult shrugged slightly, minding little that this flower of a woman had it. She was not a threat, it would seem, unless she possessed a courage and strength thus far hidden beneath a nice dress and frightened eyes.

Iseult herself was dressed poorly in comparison to Isabetta and might as well have hailed from the area, given the care and attention that Iseult gave the material that clung to her overly lanky figure. The white shirt was loose and shapeless on her arms and upper-body, the brown pants burnt here and there from careless work alongside the furnaces where she worked each brightening. The boots were scuffed and old, the cloak around her shoulders and the gloves on long fingers the newest things about her attire.

"You must've missed a turn," Iseult agreed easily, as much warning her as emphasizing that she shouldn't be in this area. "Because the only inns here will gladly toss you in a room for a candlemark or two, so long as you help their patrons out a bit." Her voice was dry and angled a bit low, not the high, pitched feminine voice that silked away from many women.

She shook her head slightly as Seyren detailed her own explanation for ending up in the place and then asked if Iseult knew the way out. "I've never had a good sense of direction," she admitted with embarrassment, hating to show weakness but in this situation knowing it better to do so than attempt to lie and prove herself adept at finding their way out. "I was just going to follow the wall back to civilization." It would seem that pure chance and luck had gotten them lost and then put together. But it was, as Seyren had also concluded, far better than wandering the dredges of Jaedaxia all alone. One woman alone had a worse chance of moving anywhere unscathed than three together.

She started to talk again, mouth popping open, when suddenly she caught a movement. She glanced upward. It was just a shadow to Iseult, an outline in the dark. A ghost, perhaps? She watched feeling nervous and uncertain and for a moment sought to dismiss it until she realized what it was--a feline stalking. She watched it coil and tense and watched as it sprang up and forward, arching. Iseult was not the most physical of creatures, but even so, she had grown up trying to wrestle her siblings out of harm's way a time or two. She lurched towards Seyren, grabbing her by the arm and jerking her towards both Iseult and Isabetta.

[Isabetta Leonard]

All three of the women had apparently reached the consensus that Isabetta was lost. The other two were apparently in denial over their own predicaments. It was obvious to Beth that neither of them knew the way to go, either, though she was much too polite to say so.

“Isabetta,” came the reply in her soft way, “Isabetta Leonard.” She was about to offer more – a brief description of her place of origin and eventual destination, a proper introduction from the proper lady – but decided it was unnecessary, given the precariousness of their situation. A wallflower by nature, she was not normally afflicted with verbosity so, when her audience moved on to the matter of finding the way to safety, she was content to leave it at that.

Alabaster cheeks dappled lightly with sun-kissed freckles flushed rosily at Iseult’s interpretation of the local inns. The two women that she had stumbled upon seemed coarse and crass, but Beth was willing to forgive a great deal, given their situation. People were not always at their best when frustrated and, she was willing to bet, frightened, whether they wished to admit it or not. She had not even an inkling that she was related to them both, one by the adoption of the Leonard sisters, the other by a mother that she had never known.

She listened politely as the conversation moved on without her, her measure apparently having been taken and found wanting. It mattered little so long as, in the end, the three found their way to safety, she thought, looking around them warily. Her eyes came to rest on Iseult and she followed the woman’s gaze, not seeing the danger at first. It wasn’t until her sister moved to grab the unsuspecting Seyren that Beth realized what was happening.

Isabetta did what any self-respecting young lady would do. She screamed, a shrill, high-pitched shriek that punctuated the silent stillness of the night. The sound of her own voice seemed to startle her into action as she moved to assist the quick moving Iseult, grabbing Seyren’s other arm and pulling her between the sisters. She kept her face to the dark apparition as she pushed Seyren protectively behind her, not certain at all what she would do if it turned its attention onto her, save become the lamb to the slaughter.

[Seyren Leonard]

Seyren blinked at the name Isabetta brought up and just for a moment she couldn't speak or even breathe. The moment she heard the name Leonard the gears of her mind came to a grinding halt and suddenly the normally chatty Seyren was left speechless in front of her cousin - if that was what she really was.

Only a few brightenings have passed and yet it seemed her big secret was out. She couldn't help but bite her lips, irritated at the turn of events that had transpired just now. What were the chances she would meet another Leonard along with someone who was obviously related to the Leonards in the seediest district of a forgein city at such an hour?

Seyren could almost cry from frustration, it was as if fate had conspired against her and nothing she could do now would save her or at least she thought so until Iseult so brashly pushed her towards her cousin. Snapping her head to face Iseult, she was all but about to utter a long string of less than homely expletatives when a dark feline figure caught her eyes.

"D-Don't scream, just don't scream... I heard from somewhere that if y-you ignore wild animals they'll ignore you. " these words of wisdom coming from someone who had been chased by a mutt into this dark and dreary district.

Not good, definitely not good. Not only had she been thoroughly embarrassed but she had also had also been saved by a maiden who filled out all the requirements of a damsel in distress. Gritting her teeth Seyren pulled her fellow Leonard back, one hand slipping into her coat before sliding out with an ordinary steel dagger in a firm reverse-handed grip. Not that the weapon would do her a lot of good, for one thing she didn't know how to use a dagger save for peeling apples.

"Iseult, what is it... do we run or fight?"

[Crimson]

Had the dark-coated creature been a large cat, Seyren's options would have sufficed. It was either or, this or that. Given the three little women's luck, however, the dark figure, having landed on the wet cobblestones, now stretched out its form, standing up on its rear legs just as easily as it would have on all four. It was a Pantheri, a male from the looks of things. Two bright amber eyes pierced through his dark form, his razor sharp teeth forming a thin outline of a grin on his feline face.

"Three ladies out so late?", he purred as he prowled, pacing from side to side with his attention set on the women before him, "why so late when it's so dark and dangerous outside?" His eyes darted forward when Seyren grasped his dagger. Showing more teeth, he laughed, creating a strange sound that was between a cough and a hiss. "Tsk tsk tsk", he waved a long knife in front of him, one he produced as seamlessly as a shadow, "do not fret, little girl, I won't harm you. Yet."

"Now, tell me" he went on, "which of you ladies will cooperate hmm? Just drop all your coin, anything valuable, on the ground and walk away, slowly. No screaming. Or else." His voice darkened as he trailed off, obviously dead serious about the matter.

[Iseult Fluersdotter]

What is it? Well. That question was quickly answered as the sleek shape of the cat straightened so that it stood tall and confident in the face of three females, none of which were visibly decked out for physical combat. Iseult had her two daggers tucked at her back, but they were hidden beneath her cloak and she hadn't quite mastered how to extract them in a flurry.

She did not think to immediately grab either dagger as the katta stalked forward, amber eyes bright against the darkness. Instead she stared, stiff and heart hammering uncomfortably as she struggled for a good response to answer Seyren with. Stay and fight or run? She wasn't quite certain either Seyren or Isabetta could get away and had not the eyes and strength to make sure they did. She wasn't quite certain she could win free of such a creature. She was not made of endurance and strength. But, feth, Iseult was tired of being robbed.

Ordered to produce their valuables, Iseult reached into her cloak and behind her, fingers curling around the hilt and slipping it out of place. She drew it out in front of her even as she gestured to Isabetta, some indication to move back and away. Somehow the girl struck her as the kind who'd pool into a puddle of fear rather than be of any use. Not that Iseult was much use in a physical confrontation either, but at least she was armed. Seyren, too.

"I'm tired of handing over to coins to someone who can't be bothered to make a decent living themselves. Why don't you go pick out your fleas somewhere else?" she snapped. Perhaps it wasn't the most intelligent thing to do, but she'd been robbed more than just a few times and was just about fed up with it.

[Isabetta Leonard]

Isabetta was out of her element and she didn’t like that everyone else knew it. What was a lady, as she was raised to be, supposed to do when confronted by vagrants and ruffians, save to play the part of the damsel in distress? Put these three in a formal gathering and then let’s see who knew how to act, she thought with no small amount of self-pity.

The monster coalesced into the form of the pantheri. Beth was uncertain as to whether that was better or worse. The pantheri would have more intelligence and guile than its wilder counterpart, but perhaps it could also be reasoned with. Not that Sey or Iseult seemed ready to reason, each with daggers appearing in their hands.

The willowy girl wondered what she had gotten wrapped up in. Perhaps running into this pair was not the best thing that had happened to her. She took a step forward, between the two women who were preparing to fight and the leonine figure that prowled about them. The distance between them was still, hopefully, far enough that she could dodge his reach. The other two had daggers and, she assumed, experience to match. All Isabetta was armed with were her manners.

“Let’s be reasonable.” Her soft voice was filled with a bravery she did not feel, “I see more daggers in the hands of women than you have hands.” Her own hands went to the drawstring purse that hung around one dainty wrist. “You can have money.” She pulled out bank notes worth three hundred gold crowns. “Here is a hundred crowns for each of us.” The notes were tossed to the ground between them. “And now, as you say, we’ll be leaving.” She began to back up, her arms raising just enough to try and include the other women in her departure.

[Seyren Leonard]

Cowardice? From a Leonard no less? Seyren shook her head softly and for a moment her nostrils flared in disapproval of Isabetta's decision, even if she was female she should have at least had some measure of courage - were they not named after Lions in the first place if not for that? She would berate the wallflower later but for now she needed to concentrate on the task at hand and she was aware that screwing up may well cost her life - and possibly her companion's.

"I'm with Iseult," Seyren said, her confidence mounting as her anger simmered to it's boiling point. "It doesn't matter if I die here, take your crowns and run. As for me, my pride comes first." and with that she pulled back her dagger, legs itching to pounce forward at a moment's notice.

Two to one, these odds were more than enough to ensure their survival if the Pantheri was alone. She prayed that it was, otherwise it was going to be a long darkening.