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The Arl's Manor House
Topic Started: Feb 1 2010, 05:52 PM (60 Views)
Khyla
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It was morning in Lothering, and although the village seemed calm, Khyla just had that nagging feeling at the back of her mind, as she sat up slowly in her bed, that today would be anything BUT calm.

Even as she blinked a little to waken herself, then stretched the cramp out of her shoulders, she could hear the telltale sounds of yet another argument brewing, out near the Chantry.

From the sounds of it, yet another group of bandits had been spotted, but as usual, the Templars refused to do anything about it. Listening to the frantic voices, then the sound of hurrying footsteps, Khyla knew what was coming next. She turned to see her dog, Merlin, lying on his pile of rags in the corner. As he lay with his head on his paws, his ears pricked up and she knew that he was also well aware of what was about to come.

“Five......four.....three......two......one.....” she counted quietly to herself. As she reached one, there was a loud banging at the front door of the manor house.

“Your turn!” Her sister Elektra called from further down the hall. “I dealt with them yesterday!”

Merlin just yawned, then placed his head back on his paws and closed his eyes again.

Grumbling and groaning about not getting a moment’s peace, Khyla slid out from under her bed covers, grabbed her silk robe from the end of the bed, pulled on her boots, then trudged reluctantly down the stairs to the front door, still dressed in her nightwear. She would have stopped to get dressed first, only the incessant banging at the door was getting louder and more frantic with each passing second, and Khyla feared that if she didn’t answer them soon, whoever was at the door might literally break in – intentionally, or otherwise!

“Can I help you?” she sighed, stifling a yawn as she opened the huge oak door to yet another group of unhappy refugees – elves this time, by the looks of things.

“We’re sorry to trouble you, My Lady,” the male elf said tentatively, all his bravado suddenly vanishing as he looked upon the Arl’s daughter.

“It’s no trouble. I was about to get up anyway,” Khyla lied, stifling yet another yawn. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“We......well.......we were just wondering if......if we might trouble you for a few silver coins, just to help us last the next week. A group of bandits took everything we owned – even my daughter’s pet lamb – and we have nothing but the clothes we now stand in. We didn’t want to trouble you.....but, we saw no other option. Please, My Lady. If you don’t help us, we’ll starve!”

Khyla found that she couldn’t be angry with them, having listened to their story, so she didn’t even bother to reprimand them for their apparent lack of manners.

“Wait here,” she sighed, closing the door on them. Walking over to a chest in the far corner, she pulled out a small pouch and began to fill it with a few coins from the chest. Then she walked back over and opened the door, offering the elven father the pouch, as his wife and children looked on.

“Ten sovereigns. That should be enough to cover everything what you lost, shouldn’t it?” she asked as he took the pouch, which jingled loudly. The elf, however, looked absolutely mortified.

“Oh My Lady, we couldn’t! It’s too much!” he gasped, but Khyla held up a hand to silence him.

“It’s fine,” she smiled. “Go on, take it. You need it more than I do.”

“We’ll gladly work, to repay the debt!” he continued, stumbling over his words in his haste to say them, but again, Khyla shook her head.

“There is no need. It’s fine,” she smiled gently. “Like I said, I’m sure you’ll find a better use for those sovereigns than I will. No go on, be gone, before I change my mind.”

“Thank you, My Lady! Your kindness will never be forgotten!” The elven family couldn’t stop thanking her as they started away from the house. Khyla just smiled and closed the door, then let out a long sigh and headed back for her bed. It was still FAR too early for her to even consider surfacing, just yet, anyways.
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