Arnickles Renodin/Midway House

Roleplay from Myr Arnickles Renodin

The House Half the Way

"They would kill me if they found out I was travelling north and didn't pay a visit" - thought Myr as he strode towards the manor, his lame horse hobbling at his side. "Midway House" they called it - a dark-oaken abode at the top of ten feet tall flight of rocky steps. The house looked somewhat like a crossbreed of a noble's manor and a fortress as it hugged the rocky cliff-side of a hill in the most imposing way. Myr vaguely remembered construction of it - he was but a child back then and seeing enormous blocks of wood hauled by mules he always wondered how did aunt Maya got the gold for it. It was well before his family had their noble claim recognized and the Midway House was the first time the nomad tribe of Desert of Silhouettes had a place they could call home. It was located less than a half day ride from the desert and on the most windy days one could smell the sand sizzling in the sun. The story Myr was always told growing up was that they called it "the Midway House" because it was neither nomad camp nor their true home, but something halfway between the two. But it truly earned it's name because aunt Maya couldn't find out if the hill officialy belonged to Desert of Sillhouettes, Axewild or the Divide Mountains, in effect not paying taxes to any region's liege.

With intimidating, high-pitched shout the sombre house opened it's oaken mouth and like from a dark shell of a clam shines the purest sight of a pearl - in the small space between the gloomy door appeared the fairest maiden, dressed in whites and blues, a pleasant voice sung the greeting in the most melodic accent of the nomads, conjoining the words:

"Myr'you'dim wit! My birthday'isn't for'another fortnight!" - the girl smiled, barely being able to reach his chin with her fist in a friendly poke.

"Ay'Alya, you'speak now like'a'proper lady, will'you?" - Myr half-scolded her in a tone far from serious and they both switched to a more common, Lurian accent. Myr noticed that while he himself still could be recognized as a man of the Desert by someone with a keen enough ear, Alya was able to speak equally well in both accents, switching fluently from one to the other on a whim.

She called to already present in the doorway middle-aged woman - "Aunt Maya! Come see who came to visit!"

"But your birthday is not for another..." - the woman stopped mid-sentence when she noticed a troubled look on her nephew's face.

Myr turned to look at Alya, he grabbed her shoulders and looked her up and down. She was a beautiful girl - she stood a bit above five feet tall, her lean frame betrayed that she wasn't used to physical labour. Her skin was pale and cheeks were rosy, her golden single braid was almost reaching her waist. Her thin lips contorted in a teasing smirk started to straighten and her blue eyes started to lose their sparkle when she noticed Myr's serious expression.

"Alya, in two weeks you will see your twelfth summer, back on the Desert you would be considered adult." - to this Maya thought that Myr himself was taken from the Desert when he was six but chosen against pointing it out and allowed him to continue - "I heard you learn very well, you read and write better than a scribe and ride like a wind, but to prepare for life you must not only learn, you must also experience..."

To this Alya said in immediate realisation: "You're not coming?"

Myr just shook his head and after a couple seconds replied - "I've got a tournament." - and after a while added - "It will be good for y..."

But before he could finish the sentence she stormed off saying behind her in unnaturally calm voice: "It's fine, I wasn't inviting you anyway!"

"Nicely done teak-sprout. Nicely done." - mumbled aunt Maya shaking her head.

"What was I supposed to say?" - Myr protested.

"How about: 'I won't be able to come to your birthday, I'm sorry.' - she has plenty of tutors, she needs a cousin."

"But I'm not her cousin, technically. I'm only her kinsman, collateral descendence, right? What I am is a knight! And a knight leads by example! Sentiments are of no use! Hard work and..." - Maya didn't let her nephew finish, instead saying:

"A knight in a rusty armor and on a lame horse. Shake this pretense off you teak-sprout!" - and calming herself down she continued - "She's smart enough to see through it. She has enough of old people to teach her everything she needs to know, but she has no friends close her age here in in Midway House. You're letting her down by playing a mighty knight each time you visit." - to this words Myr lost most of his facade but appeared still on the fence of wether he should go and appologise, prompting Maya add - "And by extension, you will be letting down someone else teak-sprout."

If the knight's hair weren't always standing on end, they would now, after hearing the last sentence. Young Myr exhaled through his nostrils so hard it could be heard meters away, he conjured up an ocarina from the side of his waist-pouch and in heavy steps he followed the girl into the oaken manor.