Old Winters and New Beginings (Open)

[Cearo ap Cadarn]

Wind gusted through the city gates, seeming to follow a lone girl as she entered Camelot. The gust tore at the heavy fur that wrapped around her, nudging the bear pelt away from her face to free the long blond curls. People bustled about, weaving around her and her pack animal, but for a moment all she could do was stare. Oblivious to the looks she was getting she simply stopped in her tracks, halting the massive horse next to her.

She had known that Camelot was large. Had heard uncountable stories and rumors that said the place was just massive. But hearing it and standing inside of it were two very different things. Even just looking from outside the walls hadn't had as much impact. Everything was inside the walls. Everything. It was more stone than she had ever seen piled in one place and all of it was being used.

Blue eyes blinked as a hand settled on one shoulder, squeezing to be felt through fur and light mail. "Cearo, you gonna be alright on yer own here, girl?"

Lanval. She had traveled with him before, every time venturing further away from the coast she had grown up on. And despite everything he still treated her like she was his own little sister. And like she didn't stand almost head and shoulders taller than him. Laughing, hands rose to push back the wild mess of her hair as she turned to him, blue eyes almost shining with excitement.

"I'll do fine. Keep both eyes open and one hand full, eh?" A gloved hand rested gently on the war hammer that hung at one side, patting it for emphasis. She wasn't entirely helpless, however often some of her traveling companions might forget it. With a laugh, she pushed at the smaller man's shoulder. "Don't keep your wife waiting. If she sends you to eat with the Aesir, I might never get further north than Lugg Vale. And I want to see the Hadrian Wall."

"Wall of Hadrian."

A nod and another push finally sent the other on his way. The trip to Camelot had taken longer than both had expected thanks to the weather. Cearo and her own animal had been fine; they were almost bred to deal with hard winters. But Lanval and his riding horse had slowed to a crawl. At least he was always a pleasant one to travel with.

With a small shake of her head a hand twitched the horse's lead, softly ringing the bells she had attached to its harness. It was all it took to set the huge animal moving forward again, the packs lashed to its back swaying slowly as it walked. Cearo moved easily along with the big black horse, long used to the stares she was getting as she moved through the Square.

She didn't imagine that many of her own kind ... well ... her father's kind ever made it this far into the land, much less within the walls of fabled Camelot. That or it was the leggings. There was always something. But she had found that pretending to not notice was the best way to deal with it all.

Stopping to tell concerned people that no, there wasn't a war band just over the hill waiting to raze the place just never went over well.

[Henry Renold]

Henry yawned loudly. He was sitting atop the hill outside of Camelot, watching The Kingsway and all who travelled to the city. It had been a long while since he had used his...talents, and he was itching to do so again- especially since he barely had two coins to rub together. It seemed like all of his time this winter had been spent chasing after kidnappers, breaking into secure buildings for the thrill more than the profit (that was a new one!) and of course in the stocks. The dry spell had taken its toll on Henrys purse and so here he was, watching and waiting.

The snow underneath him was starting to numb Henry's behind, and his fingers -although curled into his cloak- were also starting to seize up with the icy weather. He stood up slowly, brushing the wet stuff from the seat of his trousers and forcing his fingers into fists which he beat on his thighs to try and warm them up.
It was only then that he noticed the strangers at the gate. There was something different about them, although from this distance Henry would never have been able to tell what that was. Their clothes were certainly unusual, being more furs than the cloth and felt that the people of Camelot wore, but there was something else too, something less physical. It took only moments for Henry to decide that this was to be his new target, and as the man who accompanied the tall girl left, Henry seized his chance.

The hill ended at the edge of the city walls, and with a leap Henry threw himself at the stony barrier managing to catch a ledge about halfway up. His brotherhood training had taught him how to climb up virtually sheer surfaces and within a minute or two he was down the other side and safely on the ground again. He had chosen a secluded spot where no one would notice a boy dropping into the street and where there were no guards on patrol. Sometime it amazed Henry that breaking into Camelot could be so simple.

As he made his way toward the city gates where the girl had been standing Henry began to consider how exactly he was going to go about this. Mugging had never really been his area of expertise- he was less cruel and ruthless than most members of the brotherhood, and merchants and shops generally had more to spare than the public did, but nevertheless he was in the mood for a bit of frightening today.

Henry threaded his way through the busy streets to the main entrance into Camelot- the same one he had been watching from afar all day. She was easy to spot, standing blonde and a foot above most women around, Beautiful though he thought silently.
Slipping into the crowd behind her, Henry followed the girl. He would wait until she was alone before he struck.

[Cearo ap Cadarn]

Initially Cearo had planned on taking her time to get the lay of the city before finding a place to sleep for the night. It was just a habit she had picked up on her travels. A useful litlte habit that had more than likely helped her avoid more trouble than she would ever know. But the sheer size of Camelot was proving to be too much. It would take forever to see the entire place, much less get a good feel for where the better places to sleep would be.

"Well, horse. Outside again then, eh?" The words tumbled out in her more native language. Not that English wasn't native. But after her mother died there had been no one else to speak it with. The language was lower sounding, rolling with an entirely different cadence and tone. Something that only bought her more looks.

Truth be told though, she would prefer sleeping outside of the city walls anyway. Winter cold wasn't anything new and it would hardly be the first time she had slept between the packs and the horse. Besides, with so many people around she couldn't help but feel crowded. The horse on the other hand, seemed as unruffled as ever. It had been a good choice taking him instead of one of the more valuable oxen. Sure he might not be able to haul as much, but at least he was more placid.

Teeth tugged at a glove, pulling it slowly from her hand as she kept her even pace. As it fell away there was a faint glint of brass and iron around her fingers before the hand disappeared into the layers wrapped around her. Warrior rings, taken from the mail and weapons of fallen adversaries and beaten into trinkets. A sad collection really in her own opinion; her brothers had so many they didn't even bother making them anymore. She, on the other hand, only had those she wore on her left hand.

A shoulder bumped into the animal at her side, nudging it down a much less crowded alleyway where she could get away from the press of the crowd for a moment. Her left hand reappeared, pulling off the heavy pelt that had been wrapped around her. Cities were always warmer anyway. She probably wouldn't need it again until she ventured back outside for the night. The hammer, on the other hand, would stay right where it hung at her side.

With the pelt draped over the draft horse, the circular shield that rode her back was visible. The heavy wood had been painted black, and though it was chipped and gouged, it was still easy to see the two wolves that had been painted at the edges. As well as the runes that spiraled inwards until they ran into the center. The shield had saved her life more than the hammer had. Not to mention earned her more of the rings she wore.

"I don't like to say it," she murmured while fussing with the straps keeping her things attached to the horse, "but I think we might be here for some time. The way they hide behind these walls you would think they're afraid giants might come with the snow to eat them."

The last strap was double checked. Still, she lingered where she was, forehead falling to gently rest against the warm shoulder of the horse. "Until the end of winter then." Which meant she was eventually going to have to find some kind of job. Great. "Still...we might find something. Maybe someone knew her." More than likely, her mother had only known stories of Camelot, much like she did. The chances that someone in that city had known her mother were terribly slim.

But it was looking like she might have a lot of time on her hands and little else to do.

[Wrenaya de Avanell]

Money was a scary thing.

This thought, was not particularly new for her. However, it seemed to stand out and demand her attention more than ever today. Even on a bitter day like today, people were out, wrapped in the many layers they either had or had not, to make some. On days like these, it was best to find a good fire, an even better drink, and the best company. At least, that is what her father would have said, had she been home.

Thinking of money now, reminded her of her current situation. She was stuck in the middle of the have and have nots. If her father passed, she could easily become one of the women out here today in a few years if she was not careful. It was such an absurd notion, as educated as she was that being a woman entitled her to nothing.

Being careful had never really been her forte.

Absently, she had wandered away from what made up most of the crowd today. It was now simple habit. After being around so many people that she would find a place to withdraw to, for fear of her mind becoming over run with other's thoughts. On a day like today, when it seemed the cold gave everyone a lot to complain about, it was easy to become burdened with the complaints of others, however unwilling they had offered them.

She had become so preoccupied with trying to keep her mind free, that even her mossy green eyes as open as they were did not see the horse and it's owner. That was, until it was far too late to change her course, or stop herself completely. Instead, her lanky frame collided with the horse's flank, causing her body to simply bounce back. Her balance was quickly lost, feet slipped along the wet ground attempting to keep her upgright only to fail as she hit the ground.

[Henry Renold]

Henry wanted to grin wildly as he saw his target turn into a much less crowded side street. This was perfect. He had intended to cause some kind of disturbance on the main road and force her to turn off, or perhaps to frighten the horse- although he wasn't too fond of the hoofed creatures, so that would have been a final resort.
Still, now the foreigner wandered down the quiet street and Henry still tailed her, keeping his distance, pretending to look in dusty windows and pressing into groups of people who camouflaged him from any suspicious glances.
A little part of him screamed out that this was wrong and went against anything he might ever have believed in but the rest of him silenced the voice with reminders of poverty and starvation, and the fact that he was a Low without morals or beliefs. From then on that tiny voice of reason stayed quiet.

He was feeling rather confident as they rounded a corner into an even more empty part of Camelot, he had remained undetected so far and that was always a plus seeing as he was no assassin, but then his face fell. Cearo was several steps ahead and it seemed she had collided with another girl who now lay on the floor?
How had he missed that?

He ducked behind a cart that lay abandoned on the street and peered through the spokes in one of the huge wheels. Perhaps the new girl would leave?

[Cearo ap Cadarn]

Gloves tucked into her belt, Cearo had been in the process of strapping her shield to the back of the horse when its head slewed around. At first, despite its calm nature, she had thought it was going to try to nip at her. After all, you never could quite trust the animals. After taking a step back, she saw that it had instead been turning to look at something. With a gentile shove against its neck, she turned the beast back forwards.

Confusion etched across her brow as she took in the person on the ground. How someone could manage to walk right into an animal the size of her horse was beyond her. May as well walk into one of the city's walls.

Still ... One hand resting against the haft of the hammer at her side, she walked over to offer a hand to the woman. "Vitoð ér enn, eða hvat?" No, wait. It had been habit that made her ask in her native language; action before thought. Quickly collecting her scattered thoughts and giving a slight shake of her head, she offered an appologetic smile. "Are you alright?

Taking a careful look at the other woman, she could only assume it was the fault of the others dress that caused the collision. She just couldn't think of any other reason. Surely it had to be the fault of something since it had to be impossible to just walk dead into a big wall of black horseflesh like that. One more reason Cearo was more than happy to refrain from such garments. Not only did dresses and skirts make it impossible to move well, they made you walk into horses.

[Wrenaya de Avanell]

For a time, she seemed content to simply stay on the ground. Large eyes fixing on the Winter spackled sky above her. Her breath hadn't completely left her chest when she had fallen back, but it was close. When she was able to fill her lungs again, she quickly let the air out once again filling the small side street with gentle laughter. Had she been anyone else, she probably wouldn't have believed what she had just seen, how many people walked into a horse like that? The answer, probably nobody.

She had understood the younger woman the first time. This was not the first time she had ever come across a 'barbarian', that did appear to want see the buildings around her burn. She was by no means fluent, but she knew enough that when the girl spoke, she did not have to stare wide eyed at her. A slender hand with it's palm now raw from her fall reached out to grab the younger woman's, who then helped her to rise. It was only, when she was standing looking right into the other's eyes, that she was able to smile. Camelot beware, now there were two giantess amongst you. That thought, was almost enough to cause her to laugh again.

"Thank you, I am quite alright. Nothing terribly injured save my own pride. Which, I assure you has not suffered too greatly." She replied, absently brushing shorter strands of raven from her face. No indeed, her pride hadn't suffered much. Not when one made it a habit to find herself in situations much like these. If it hadn't been the horse this moment, perhaps it would have been a servant in the castle later, no doubt over burdened with carrying something breakable. It was just the way fate seemed to guide her at times.Wren took a moment to pause, watching that great horse still standing there with it's indifferent manner.

"You are a long way from home, I think." she stated, reaching out toward the horse to offer an apologetic pat. She had spoken those words, in the young woman's own tongue, though surely she had messed up part of it "What do you do here, if I might be so bold to ask?" she said, looking back at the other woman.

[Henry Renold]

Henry shuffled his feet and cursed quietly to himself. Would these women be talking for much longer? It was always an annoyance when a plan didn't come off, but when it was rudely interrupted it felt even worse and Henry was by no means the most patient of people.

He watched as the girl who had somehow managed to collide with the giant of a horse was helped up by the first girl, and then listened as they proceeded to talk in some strange tongue. Henry had been correct when he had sensed something different about the blonde girl from outside the city, she was from somewhere altogether different to Camelot.
The dark haired girl seemed less fluent and Henry wondered where she had learned to speak this alien language. Being uneducated himself meant Henry couldn't quite grasp the concept of bi-linguists or of foreigners. It all seemed a little too weird for his liking.

After a couple more minutes Henry had almost decided to give up on this whole mugging idea. He would rather go without supper tonight than have to sit here and listen to the strange mutterings and laughter of two women. He had, quite frankly, had enough of the fairer sex to last him a lifetime. But before had had the chance to sneak away, he happened to breathe in a large cloud of hay dust fromt he abandoned cart. His lungs burned in protest and he couldn't help but let out a hoarse cough. Dammit Now his cover was truly blown.