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Out in the Cold (Open)

Started by TheHighwayman, February 09, 2013, 09:31:30 PM

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TheHighwayman

Kyt sighed and sunk down against the alley wall. The sun was beginning to set over the city, and the streets were slowly beginning to empty. It wouldn't be long before even the comfort of being able to "see" other living beings wouldn't do him much good. He'd be in total darkness again. Well, besides the occasional criminal wandering the streets and possibly their victims, but that wasn't exactly much comfort. This would be the third night in a row spent like this- with no work and no money for lodgings. A coughing fit racked the young man's body- he was certain now he was coming down with some sickness or other, which would neither help his business nor his comfort. He pulled his cloak closer about him and took a small bite of the hunk of stale bread he'd managed to get a hold of.

It was times like these that Kyt wished he had the stomach for thievery, but like always he cursed himself for thinking that way. He'd be fine, he told himself. It was just a short period of hardship. Besides, if he was out of work than at least there weren't many people suffering from disease right now. The thought didn't do anything to make him feel warmer.

This was going to be a cold night, Kyt knew. Much more so than usual. The young man glanced out into the street- more out of reflex than necessity, and felt the dwindling number of people going about their business. Maybe if he acted now he could find some warmer place to sleep for the night- at least more than an alleyway- but at this point he barely had the energy to stand, let alone blindly navigate the city in the hopes of stumbling into conveniently placed shelter.

Kyt felt himself beginning to nod off, grateful that he'd not have to consciously deal with the worst of the night, at the very least. He tucked the remaining bread inside his cloak, hoping nobody would steal it during the night. Offering a short prayer to anyone or anything that felt like watching over him, Kyt let his staff fall from his hands...

Waking in the dead of night, Kyt was extremely disoriented. He felt for his staff, suffering a moment of panic before his small hand closed around it. He had no idea what time it was, but he felt chilled to his bones. The world- what little of it he was aware of- was spinning, and he could feel the trickling of sweat on his forehead. Kyt could feel... somebody... nearby. His magic was too unfocused at the moment to tell him who or what it was or what their general intentions might be. He could tell they were drawing closer than the night watch or most of the city's nightly predators usually did. He had the presence of mind to decide to keep silent and try to get a hold of himself until he could discern more of his situation, but his effort was immediately sabotaged by another fit of coughing that would alert anyone within earshot to his location and make the idea of remaining in the cover of darkness laughable. Kyt quickly held his hand over his mouth and hoped whoever or whatever might be out their wasn't hostile.

 

Ramon

Being out this late at night was not something Morcant enjoyed doing, but since the nobleman had not extended the priest the offer of a bed for the night, he had no choice but to go back to his temple. The religious ceremony he had taken part in had left him tired, and that made his steps slower than usual, making him extra grateful for the lantern he carried. The man wasn't particularly worried about an attack however, since he kept to the main streets and most thieves weren't foolish enough to attack a priest, even in the dead of night. Plus, the half-mask that covered the top half of his face was still in place, and he imagined that the white portions of it were frightening enough to scare away anyone who wanted to do him harm.

And so he walked slowly towards his temple, occasionally nodding and saying a few words to those of the night watch he passed. Morcant was very much alert despite being tired however, and he looked around at the darkened homes and shops as he passed them. Most of the taverns were still open, but even there business seemed to be quiet, possibly due to the late hour. Or perhaps tavern business was simply slow lately, he didn't particularly pay much attention to those kinds of things. It was a rather cold night too, and even with his layers of robes on, the man could still feel the chill in the air. Anyone spending the night out-of-doors was in for a unpleasant evening.

Just then, Morcant's gaze landed on something (or someone) wrapped up and leaning against the wall of the alley he was passing. Raising the lantern a little higher, the man leaned closer and realized that someone was indeed passing the night out in the cold. The cloak the wore looked well-used, so he assumed it was a traveller who had been unable to find lodging for the night. The priest hesitated a moment, then ventured closer. He had room at the temple for someone, and would gladly offer up the space to this person if they seemed trustworthy enough.

Taking the coughing fit the person went through as a sign that they were awake, Morcant stopped a little ways away from the cloaked figure and called politely, "Pardon me, stranger, but may I offer you a bed in my temple for the night?" After the treatment the nobleman had given him, it was only right that he show some kindness to others.

TheHighwayman

Kyt slowly got to his feet, figuring there wasn't any point in trying to hide. He remained silent for a few moments, thinking. He didn't feel any hostile intentions, and even if he had the cold was as likely to kill him as any human being at this point. Adjusting the sash across his eyes, he tapped his walking stick on the ground and nodded. "That would be appreciated." Despite his rasping coughs earlier, his voice was calm and steady. The young man stepped closer, leaning on the staff.  Standing up he appeared even more emaciated- the heavy cloak clung tightly to his frame, a frame of nearly half the stature the already frail mage should have had.

"Is that the closest one? It shouldn't be far from here, if I remember right, yes?" Another fit of coughing took him, this one lasting nearly ten seconds. When he caught his breath again he tugged on the hem of his cloak, doing his best to stand fully upright. He wasn't exactly successful, though he remained less stooped than he had been before. His hands remained shaking, causing his staff to rattle across the ground. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead by sweat, and he clearly was having trouble with each breath, but somehow the blind man managed a dignified appearance as he "looked" directly at the priest.

"I'm Kyt," he managed to say through the chattering of his teeth. "You?"