A wave and a nod to the deck hands who assisted her in this latest battle on the seas as they depart with their share of the bounty, and Kirthag directs her tiller-man to head toward the closest port, Britain. A busy port, being the capital city, Kirthag makes note of the various officials she should visit while there. First on her list is the Castle British. Although more akin to a tomb than the lively palace it once was, she still views this as the seat of the Crown - and where she pays her respect and swears fealty as she had in days of yore. Though empty the thrown rests, Kirthag makes it a point to visit every time she is in the capital.
The ocean breeze is crisp and salty as the SV Evergreen enters Britain Bay. Taking the helm, Kirthag directs the ship to a berth and leaves instructions with the stevedores on what to unload. Dressed now in her travel wear, her armor safely stowed in her cabin, the Lady Paladin walks along the city streets on her errands.
-vWv-
"There is no more than what you see, and yet you still wish to have more? Off with you!"
"But please, m'lord, we are hungry and there is nothing left at the -"
"That isn't my concern, is it now? Be off and leave hard working people be!"
Dejectedly, the beggar moves away from the bakery, sulking deep under the rags and tatters he calls clothing. Sidestepping a puddle, his attempt to stay dry are thwarted as a passing horse stamps the muddy mess which splashes the beggar. Looking as if the world is his enemy, the sodden and dirty street urchin just stares at his feet.
"Here, you poor thing," comes a gentle yet strong voice, and a large, athletic hand is offered to the beggar. He accepts the hand, and looks upward at the owner of it.
The man is tall, large, and blocks the sun. The epitome of health and vitality, yet with a soft demeanor that could be mistook as weakness if one would misjudge him so. His outstretched hand is like a giant swatter, and yet is a comfort despite the callouses of hard work. "Let's get you to where The Fellowship can give you some food, eh? And hopefully a bath as well."
"Fellowship?" asks the beggar.
"Aye, they have set up a soup kitchen in East Brit - I'll take you there," answers the man.
Kirthag watches as the beggar stands and shuffles with the hulk of a man toward the east. She wonders just what sort of group this Fellowship is, remembering another group of similar name and purpose from another age. There was a nefarious goal to that group - one that almost broke the land. She mulls over this and finds her feet following the pair.
True to his word, the large man leads the slight beggar to a ramshackle construction on the eastern edge of the city. There, another burly man greets the pair, and guides the beggar toward the soup line. Kirthag approaches, leaning slightly forward to peer into the building without actually entering.
"You don't have the look of one in need, my dear."
Kirthag starts a bit, spinning around and into a defensive stance facing another large, muscular man in plain clothes.
The man watches as Kirthag realizes he is unarmed and relaxes. He extends his right hand in friendship while the left is held up to display his palm. "I am Cal," he simply states.
Kirthag grasps Cal's hand with a firm grip and pumps once. "I am Kirthag."
"Oh! The glorious Lady Paladin of Yew?" Cal questions.
"Well," retrieving her hand and shuffles a bit, Kirthag blushes slightly. "I wouldn't call me glorious - that be a hard title to hold upon."
"Ah, but we've heard of you, m'lady! Your deeds and generosity for the people of Yew are well known! It is said your adventures upon the sea are just about legendary! How many pirates have you accosted overall?" Cal's enthusiasm seems genuine.
"I am not one to brag, sir," is Kirthag's reply. "Everyone has a story that leads them to do good or not. Those pirates followed the wrong tale, I simple made sure they would have the chance to turn it around."
Cal nods. "Spoken like a true Knight of Justice, Lady Paladin. But what brings you to our stoop? Are you here to help us with our cause?"
Kirthag spies the piles of cargo chests toward the back and the side of the building. Knowing she has several within her hold destined for cities other than Yew, she smiles a bit. "Aye, I s'pose I ken that. Yessir," she looks to Cal with a smile. "I've lots of confiscated crates in the hold of my ship that should help your lot."
"Excellent! Most excellent, indeed! I'll direct some of our men to... what is the name of your ship?" Cal waves toward some of the other burly men in The Fellowship's building, and they come toward the pair.
"She is the Evergreen - cannae miss her she is, well, green," Kirthag chuckles slightly.
"Very well then. Men, Lady Kirthag has more cargo for us to distribute to those in need. If you please, to the docks."
The gathered men smile and nod thanks to Kirthag as they depart toward the docks of Britain. Kirthag watches after them, knowing her network of runners within the city will reach the Evergreen first and alert the tiller man of this happening - he will have all of the crates for the other cities on deck by the time the group of men arrive.
"As appreciation for your assistance, please, Lady, take this token of our gratitude," Cal extends his hand with a small coin grasped between his fingers.
Kirthag shakes her head, "Nae, sir. Is not needed."
"No, please, I insist. It is not currency, just - a small memento of the appreciation of The Fellowship."
She takes the coin, feeling its weight as she slips it into one of the pockets of her vest. "Then I shall keep it as a token of such. But I must be going now, I still have business within the library and the bank."
With a nod of his head and a small salute, Cal watches at Kirthag moves away toward the west and the center of the city.
Kirthag moves with a sense of purpose, but not for the tasks she stated. The coin jumbles in the pocket of her vest against her side and she ponders the significance of such a token. Her mind in thought, she doesn't notice the slight figure following her as she approaches the one-time home of Lord British. Instead of going toward the throne room, she takes a smaller door and finds herself walking briskly down a long corridor to... a library.
She has books to read, old books; books which will help her remember what happened with a small and forgotten town of Sosaria.
"Paws," she whispers.
