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| − | == January 5th - Skalk ==
| + | #REDIRECT[[Dubhaine Family/Brigdha/Roleplays/2008/January]] |
| − | Brigdha sat in the darkest corner of the common room of The Golden Lion, still dressed in her dust-stained woodland livery and using her cloak as a pillow. She'd considered changing into clothes more befitting her status, but there were advantages to dressing like a common soldier.
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| − | Not that a common soldier would be studying a first edition of Kelwyn's Toxophilite, picking indifferently at a plate of cheese and cold meats whilst her ale went largely unnoticed. She had a recollection image of her sister Moira being scolded by their father after one of her drunken binges. She missed both her sisters, but Moira the most.
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| − | The evening was starting to liven up and Brigdha wondered if this was quite the right choice of retreat after all. The previous night The Golden Lion had been dead - proabably because so many of the mustered companies had arrived late and been kept busy setting up camp. Tonight though she'd probably have had a better chance of a quiet drink in her bivouac, but for all that she loved her men she sometimes needed time alone to think. After all, she was the reflective one amongst the Dubhaine brood, the daughter who studied science and philosophy when the others had preferred their horses and the hunt. At least her men wouldn't know her guilty secret, and that brought a comely smile to her too-often serious face.
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| − | Glancing up from her book for a moment she couldn't help but notice the gang of miscreants creating most of the noise. Definitely not soldiers that was for sure, but likely the kind who indulge in professional skullduggery. Their tab was being paid by an attractive woman, currently sat in deep conversation with a grizzled veteran: judging by his bearing and courtly manners he was a noble of some importance and Brigdha assumed they must be discussing the forthcoming campaign. Perhaps the woman was an agent of some kind, reporting back on troop dispositions, or maybe he was outlining some strategem that would open a city's gates at the crucial moment.
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| − | Speculation. She turned her attention back to Kelwyn's description of the spin shot, a cast that allows the arrow to travel in a flat trajectory with increased precision, but out of the corner of her eye she continued to study the couple, looking for any clues that would support her surmise. The eyes of a practiced archer easily picked out details others would probably miss, in this case the ring on the woman's finger - a ring bearing the same crest as that on the livery of the veteran's companions.
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| − | "So she's more than just an agent," Brigdha mused. "That's more the gift one gives a favoured vassal. Or perhaps even a sweetheart."
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| − | The man finished his tankard of ale and returned to his own party, but Brigdha was more intrigued by the woman. What secrets had she seen in her travels? Her eyes carried the pain of battles fought and friends lost, but you would never tell it from looking at her. Would those be Brigdha's eyes one day? Assuming she survived the coming campaign...
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