But, for this, she'd try it.

Her stride took her to the shore, where she sat with her legs tucked beneath her. She closed her eyes, and the only sound was that of the wind and the water in front of her.

Several minutes go by, and nothing came to her. Her hands were clasped together in her lap. She did her best to keep herself relaxed, remaining as she was.

How long she was there, she didn't know. The minutes seemed to drag on for her.

Too silent, nothing to block out unwanted memories.

She was about to give up when it suddenly hit her. Pulling herself up from where she'd been sitting, she brushed the sand from her dress.

Now it was time to find it.

The search took her a bit of time, before she was standing in front of a brilliant white tree. A good branch was what she was looking for, and as her gaze trailed along each one, she found it.

A lower hanging one, so it was easier for her to get to. She tugged her bone saw from her satchel, so she could separate the branch from the tree. Not the best tool, but it'd get the job done.

Separating it took several minutes, but it was done, and she had her branch. The bone saw was tucked away again, before she made her way back to Oswin with her branch in hand.

Once home, she took to carving what needed to be carved and adding trinkets she saw fit to it.

The end result was a long stave. The top portion of it spiraled, almost like the waves of the ocean. Back and forth it seemed to pull onto itself, looking as if it could possibly break. But it remained sturdy.

There was a teal colored grip wrapped around it, with golden wraps. A piece of sea glass was just below where the spirals went back and forth. Four spirals in total, each with something dangling from them. An otter charm, a feather, perserved herbs for decor, and perhaps more to come.

Not being able to properly see and focus set Estellise on edge, even more than she already was. Her stride was swift, posture rigid.

I swear this man is trying to kill me.

The walk to the north was ‘easy’ enough, if you can call not being able to focus easy. The whole way she was trying to figure out exactly how she was going to do this.

Scalpel and a bonesaw. That was all she had on her that could be used as a weapon. Not exactly prime hunting weapons. Not that she was skilled in anything else.

I’m going to dissect him if I survive this.

The cold winter air nipped at any exposed flesh, causing her to shiver. Snow covered trees and mountains as far as the eye could see. It wasn’t supposed to be easy, but that didn’t stop her from hoping that it would come quickly.

Her teal and gold attire stuck out against the snowy background, with her pale skin and white hair blending in. Wind blew her hair and clothing about every so often. The tips of her ears were already reddening, as was her nose and her fingers. Her right ankle ached deep within the bone, from where it’d previously been broken in the past.

A howl sounded in the distance, easy enough to hear due to how quiet everything was from the snow. The sound caused her to slow to pause, closing her eyes so she could try to hear where the howl was coming from, without the disorientation of unfocused sight.

Another howl came, from her left. Based on the sound of it, it was still quite some distance away. She remained still, eyes closed.

Maybe I should head back and get other supplies. That’s another long walk with this tugging at my mind, and not being able to focus though.

A third howl, but somewhat closer than the last. The wolf, or wolves because it was unlikely there was only one, was closing in.

Better that than dying. I’ll figure it out.

Promptly, she turned around to head back the way she came, down the hill. As quick as she could with the snow weighing her feet down, and causing an even worse ache in her ankle the colder it got.

But she didn’t make it very far before she felt something bounce off of her back. She stumbled forward, one hand shooting up into the sleeve of her dress. Her fingers curled around the thin handle of something as her front collided with the snow on the ground. She rolled on her back, hand yanking at the handle to pull a scalpel out. She thrust the small blade forward, right as a wolf was lunging its fangs toward her. The teeth caught her arm, but she was able to lodge the blade of the scalpel deep within its throat.

A wet noise escaped the wolf, especially when she drove the scalpel deeper in. A moment or two passed of the wolf not being able to breathe, before it slumped on top of her, unmoving.

Blood was already flowing down her arm from the bite, the sleeve of her dress torn. A breath of relief escaped her amidst her wincing, even as her vision was unfocused. She forced herself up with a hiss of pain from the stinging in her arm.

Once up, she moved as fast as her feet would take her, her arm pressed to her chest. There wasn’t time to take care of it yet. Rarely was there only one wolf around.

Just then, more howls sounded out from behind her, though not super close. It gave her enough time to get further away and to the base of the hill, not that she stopped. She only did once she was sure she didn’t hear any more howling behind her. Then she tended to the wound on her right forearm, disinfecting it with alcohol and bandaging it securely.

That’ll do until I can get back.

The long journey back went on, Estellise relying more on her hearing than her vision. At least that worked fine still. Eventually, she made it back to Oswin and to the Clinic, where she properly took care of her wounded arm. Then she went home to collapse into bed to get some much needed rest. Later, she’d have to try to figure out some kind of plan, since the previous one didn’t work.

When she’d had enough rest, her planning continued, though it was with her eyes closed. Much easier to think that way. She was doing her best to ignore the pull she felt toward the north.

Gold and teal stuck out too much in the snow.

Maybe a white cloak to blend in with the snow.

A scalpel and a bonesaw weren’t going to be enough.

What else could work though…? Spear? Bow?

Perhaps both, just to be on the prepared side of things. Not that she’d ever used them before. But it’d be better than what she had on her.

It’s worth a shot.

Opening her eyes and being hit with how unfocused it was punched her in the brain stem. A sigh escaped her, as she pushed herself up. Now up, she set to finding what it was she thought she’d need for another try at finding the reindeer.

Some time later, who knows how long it actually was, she had what she thought of. A spear, a bow and quiver with arrows. Some rope. Bandages. A pure white cloak, but she didn’t pull that out just yet. Not until she was back at the tundra. With that, she set off once again.

The whole way, as she had on the way back, she did her best to keep her attentiveness to her hearing. That seemed to help, somewhat. There was a dull throb in her temples, but she brushed it off for now.

Back at the tundra, she took out the pure white cloak. She pulled it on, tying it securely together in the front and pulling the hood up. Now, anything in the snow shouldn’t be able to see her coming. First, she checked that the quiver on her back was fine, the spear tied beside it along with her bow. It caused the back of her cloak to stick up some, but it shouldn’t have disrupted her disguise.

Let’s hope it goes better this time.

She ventured into the snowy domain, with the hope that nothing would spot her because of the cloak. As she trekked up a mountain, it appeared her hope was coming true. There was no sign of anything catching sight of her.

Far off howls had her pausing briefly, but after a minute or two of listening, she determined they were growing farther away instead of closer. Once she was positive this was the case, she began to move forward again.

Now she let that pull she felt guide her. Quiet and as swift as she could, extra effort going into not alerting anything else of her presence if she could help it. So far, so good.

A glimpse of clarity through the falling snow. Growing closer confirmed it for her. Her vision was finally able to focus on the animal some ways ahead of her.

Finally, hopefully my aim is good.

Despite the cold of the snow, she took a knee. Slowly, she tucked a hand into her cloak so she could pull an arrow from the quiver and draw her bow. She lifted the bow, lining the arrow up with the string. With a little difficulty at first, she drew the string back. Taking aim, she let the arrow loose.

It flew through the air, but the wind gusted at it, causing it to veer off course. It disappeared into a snowbank, somewhere far off to the left, without a sound.

At least it wasn’t her only arrow. She was smart enough to bring as many were able to fit in the quiver. She reached back to draw another. Once lined up with the bow, she raised the bow to take aim. This time, she made extra sure of where her aim was pointed before letting the arrow go.

It shot out from the bow, soaring through the air at a speed that surprised even her. It hit its mark, striking the animal in the back, lodging itself deep into the flesh there. The animal fell with a strangled noise, unmoving on the ground.

I can’t believe that worked.

She tucked the bow back over her quiver, before making her way over to it. Sure enough, there was no movement from it. The arrow was sticking out from just below its shoulder blade.

Now to get it back…

The rope was pulled out, so she could tie it up. That took her some time, but soon, it was tied for her to drag back to Oswin. A grunt escaped her as she tugged the rope, it taking a fair bit of effort to drag it along. But she was able to do it, slowly dragging it back through the snow.

It caught on a rock or something here and there, causing her to have to pause and put extra effort. Mostly, all it took was some extra effort to get it loose, then she was able to continue again. But not this time. When she tugged on the rope, with all her might, the rope slipped from her hands. She stumbled backward, tripping over her feet and slipping down the edge of the hill.

Crack!

It took everything she had to keep in the pained scream threatening to erupt out. Agony seared up her leg from her right ankle. Forcing herself to keep it all in still, even as she moved her leg, was hard. Burning hot pain shot from her ankle anytime she moved it.

She felt along her ankle, gritting her teeth so she didn’t make a sound. The break in her ankle was easy to feel, it already starting to turn purple.

So broken.

All she could do right now was bandage it and splint it. Further care would have to be done at Oswin. So, she pulled out the roll of bandages from her satchel. A glance around showed a fallen branch nearby to use for a splint. With a deep inhale and exhale, she bandaged her ankle, then tied the splint to it to support it.

Then she forced herself up to her feet, making her way around the side and back up to where the rope dropped. Now going at an even slower pace because she was limping, she continued her tug along, only stopping for a break when she needed to. Eventually, she made it back to Oswin.

A quiet creaking carries through the Manor in the early hours of the morning, and with such the man pushes himself up from his sleep, rubbing his face as he stood from his bed. A figure remained asleep within the furs atop it, and he'd leave them there to awake properly, not at the skewed hours he did. A wooden lynx stirred and followed him out as he took down the stairs, and to the Perch.

Simple strolls through across the property lended him knowledge he needed. The vineyard grew well, the small facilities people took to seemed fine. Dew adorned the grass and was broken beneath clunking boots as he'd step into the Brewery. A figure in the distance at the shore, likely Myrrha practicing night-swimming in the safer hours so close to light. He watches for a moment before shutting the door and tending to the work within.

Idle work on the stills and hefting kegs to and from, the mind considers the years gone by. Many mistakes, old and new, and things to consider going forward. Things that had been done and could not be taken back. A foot pressed open the tavern doors as he settled new kegs behind the shelves, and noticed a pot already on the fire. A large bounding mass of white hair darting around outside.

The sky coats itself in cloudy furrows, and light starts to break through. A final crate of wine is hauled into the Tavern, and organized thusly, with labels smoothed onto each as the Grey-Man organized them in place. Rhaella was already outside, blanket slung over her shoulders and calling for Myrrha to finally dry off and come in, only to receive a chorus of laughing.

He pulls his gloves off and leaves them on the counter, stepping out back. The Newts scattered across the grounds, Leniandir goes rushing by with more spices and a chuckle. The roads away clattered loudly, as supply caravans headed up towards the Elvenesse with supplies. For living and rebuilding. The Tower creaked, but a child was coming. This was no safe place for such.

The Perch eeked awake. Nothing loud, nothing quiet. But a heart was beating.

What had been done was done, and what was to come could still be decided. It was simple enough but it took far longer than it should for the man to learn. He'd walk the perimeter once more thinking to himself quietly, and considering the days to come. The sleeping work beneath the property. The new faces and the ones soon to pass. He'd come to a stop in front of the Tavern, and creaked as he took a seat in a chair in front of the building.

A familiar fox darts through the brush as the day starts with a sun high up. The Tavern bustled with breakfast time, all awake well except for a drowsy Myrrha, who almost gets her hair in stew. People stop by for drinks and meals as they traveled to and from, and Valerica taps a mug against his cheek between all the work as he sat, filled to the brim with fresh coffee. There wasn't always business but that was okay. Sometimes the beer didn't turn out well, but that was okay. Sour wine. It was okay. 

That was it, wasn't it, as the mali'fenn leaned up against the chair and spoke with him softly, discussing plans for the coming days.

It all wasn't wonderful, and not always terrible. Sometimes it was just okay. And that's what this was now.

This was where he finally was again.

It was okay again.

“Your body returns to the world.” A hitched voice said.

The woman stood tall behind the counter, rhythmically grabbing mug after mug to wipe clean with a rag. No patrons in sight, and yet she stood at the counter, busying herself. Hour after hour, well before opening would come.

“Your soul moves forward, wherever it may go. May you move forward, guided by threads of silver, to your home amongst others of your kin. Your body feeds life and life goes on, whilst your mind goes into the everlasting. May you find the peace in death you so desired.”

“I love you. I’ll miss you.”

Boots scuffed against the wooden flooring as employees arrived, brushing the tables and chairs clean of dirt or dust. She stood, offering no words as she rearranged the mugs and barrels of drinks to be served later. The tavern keep passed through every so often, preparing supplies for dishes and the meads he planned to make.

An empty, breathy speech carried on, filling the exhausting silence. 

To momentarily carry on in her place, he spoke.

“Kor, Gatekeeper, Lantern-Bearer, as sure as we all live so surely shall we die. As we commit to you the soul of the departed, light each step that she might not stumble on the path. Open wide the gates, that the honored dead might enter in.”

She greeted people warmly, leaning against the counter beside him, and her fellow employee. Mud tracked in from the rainfall earlier that morning, though she merely spoke to the fellow woman aside her, “Ready some stew, won’t you?”

A child cried, as rain began to pour.

“May this one find rest in the fellowship of the kin who entered before. May we never forget this mali, nor any of our beloved kin who have passed on before us. May we carry their memory with us ever and always, and guard them as we would the living. “

A few glanced to the sky, as clouds rumbled above them; far out of reach of the trees.

“Goodbye, old friend.” Her voice is soft, with a rough undertone. Her eyes hung upon the stone, rain pouring over her shoulders. “This isn’t how it should have ended, but at least your final day was a good one.”

 

With a boiling pot, she called out to the ringing of the front door. “Welcome to the Owl’s Perch! If you want to order something, come to the counter!” Once, twice, thrice that line was called, by varying voices. Mugs slammed down before the dwarven patron, whiskey poured from two feet in the air until the drink fizzed up and over the sides of the mug. A woman chuckled, another nervously nearby, asking for tea.

She clears her throat, that raspy tone escaping her maw. “You shouldn’t have been first, but…  I thank you for being so. If it weren’t for you, I'm not sure my daughter and friends would be alive. Thank you.” 

The woman’s gaze stuck toward the dirt, where water pooled near her feet. The crying of a child silenced, a cloth pulled over those in the background like an umbrella. 

“You tried your best, and you did lovely. You worked so hard for so little, but I hope your life in the beyond is happy. You deserve to be happy, and I'm sorry you couldn’t achieve it in life.”

Laughter, shouts, cries, and exclamations echoed through the stone walls, off the wooden flooring. Happy tones, each seat, every table filled. Even if for only a few hours. The drinks were dished out, once after another. 

Even as everything came to a calm, she remained there with the tavern keep and her fellow employees, cleaning behind the counter and tossing mugs to the front for orders. People wandered outside to speak, a laugh or a shout. Someone remained near the counter with their drink, a man in the back with a big pile of papers. Eventually, she was the only one to remain behind the counter.

She stood there regardless, resting against the counter as she’d adjust her mask upon her face, pushing it up a bit like one would with glasses.

“You tried so hard.” She croaked.

“But, it’s time to stop trying. Gods know you tried.”

“The world was unfair. Your death was unfair.”

“But you lived through it all. Thank you for showing me what true strength is.”

With the patron holding a bottle of wine, they shouted and spat at an odd spectral bird, resting near the windowsill. She sighed, and hopped the counter- reaching for it. 

“What do you hide behind that? What is the reason for it?”

A voice spoke in her mind, and yet she shook it off. She and a golden ringed ‘Ker lifted the bird from the windowsill, glass shattered across the floor along with a few minas. A broken hand, little blood spilled. As she stepped outside with the ‘Ker, she shouted; “Just throw it!”

The bloody, spectral parrot was thrown far into the woods, only for something so, so much worse to replace it.

He tipped his head down, his words softened, much quieter then hers; hoping not to override her gentle tone. His hands rested at his sides, still adorned in those golden rings.

“It cannot compare, to experience and time, but I enjoyed knowing you.”

“Trading stories and laughter, and that rare smile from you. Thank you, and I hope you are able to find peace, and comfort wherever you lay. We will speak of you, and carry your memory.”

They stepped towards the tavern. A man in a diving suit, a dried and dead shark hung over his shoulders. Two more, at his flank, dressed head to toe in clothes and masks adorning eithers’ faces. She shook her head, and stepped back inside. Others, began to wander off. To the tower, away from the tavern. Little patrons remained, merely that crazy man with the sheets of paper, and those who drank by the counter; along with a bloody and glass-ridden hand. 

Tears flowed down her cheeks, desperately wiped away the moment they were made known. 

“She’s okay.”

Two clothed ones made their way to a room upstairs. The man covered in a diver’s suit remained before her, sat in a chair across the room. They spoke for a time, her own curiosity taking the better of her as to why the trio was here.

“Oh yes, they said they wanted drinks. Do you mind serving them?”

With heavy reluctance, and refusal to retrieve his buddies from above, the woman sighed. Her last few minutes of serving for the night, she gathered two drinks and collected the mina from the man across the room.

Slowly rising up the steps, she rounded them, until she made her way onto the second floor. A boot sent in a kick to the door, her hands filled with drinks.

The tavern keep lingered around the edge of the crowd, slowly slipping through those who stood before it. Crouching down aside the grave, he clasped his hands together, and spoke softly.

“God above, Spirits that surround us.“

“Aspects within the grass and trees, Aeriel in her Golden City.” 

“Please, someone lead this soul to happiness and content. Do not abandon them, or do them harm. They were a good child, one who was hurt dearly. One of you please. Show kindness where this world could not.”

“They deserve it.”

Slowly rising, he brought his arms back to his sides, speaking solemnly.

The ciders were sent flying, coating the mali as she was sent to the floor. Rabid creatures burst from the door, hungering, as they dove for the woman. Teeth sunk into her arms as she tried to defend herself, to no avail. A single piercing cry, one loud and hoarse, rang throughout the entire building. It was silenced swiftly, a thick crimson setting into the freshly swept floorboards. 

“They deserve it.”

Asamel was finally allowed to rest; beneath the dirt and soil. To sleep, with her uniform intact, with merely a red stain or two. Her mask rested neatly upon her face, as it always had been, as she was laid down 6 feet under. A similarly carved mask to her own was set upon her grave, many sad faces set upon the words written into the stone; 

"  Here lies Asamel

Beloved Friend, and Weary Soul.  "

Behold.

The Owls Perch, Tavern and Brewery

_________________________________________________________

Sat upon the roadside of the Hinterlands, nestled within the woods sits the establishment.

Originating as abandoned buildings and farms hidden within a clearing, they have been refurbished and rebuilt from the inside out to serve customers and produce quality brew of any sort!

The Tavern!

A welcome addition to the lands of Almaris, none will be denied entry to this establishment without proper cause. We seek to provide a quality time and quality product, to rest the weary traveler, the tired soldier, even the sober bandit. But take heed, all establishment employees will be armed. Try to grab a skirt and you're likely to lose a finger.

Fresh food will always be served, as well as a plethora of drinks that are constantly being made and stocked, new entry's to the menu being established everyday from the Brewery. All food is foraged, cleaned, and hunted from the overabundant blessing of nature surrounding us, ensuring a fresh palate!

The Brewery!

We took great strides to refit a barn into a expansive brewery. Big stills, small stills, aging barrels, fermentation vats, and more, we're capable of brewing any spirit, beer, wine, and more. We constantly gather and try out new ideas and new flavors, stocking enough to liquor up the entirety of Providence!

For those who indulge in wine, you will be pleased to know that we use an extensive variety of grapes. Left to naturally grow, our Proprietor carefully harvests from them, be it peak age, or alternatives for a change of pace. But no taste for wine will go unsatisfied, from the deepest red to the driest white.

The Brewery is the lynch pin, the work horse, of the operation, sourcing almost every drink that is sold!

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Additional Facility

________________________________________________

The Tower

Behind the Owl's Perch sits an old, rebuilt tower. One might smell the scent of assorted herbs, and strange aromas wafting from it. A medical facility, and a shop of sorts, the Tower is a alchemical center.

Ran by the Jackdaw and Tayna, it is not part of the Owl's Perch proper, but sits within its small glade, providing assorted services ranging from small products to more complicated sundries.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

About Us

The Owl's Perch sits far away on the road towards the Elvenesse, and we carry our own rules as such. Our laws, if you will.

They are as such.

1. If you start a fight, take it outside. The Proprietor doesn't want to clean your blood up.

2. No theft of property. If caught, The Proprietor will be cleaning your blood up.

3. No unwanted advances on the staff. They are armed. You'll know if they don't like it.

4. No Daels.

5. All products must be paid for in advance. Any tabs started will be only done for trustworthy folk.

6. No entering the Tower beyond the bottom floor without permission. If caught, you likely won't be seen again.

7. No Ghosts. They continue to make things chilly. This defeats the purpose of the fire place.

8. No offensive magic use within the Tavern. Dark Magics will also be treated as offensive just by existing.

9. Any damage to the tavern will be charged to the person. Any attempt to flee this will end poorly. The Proprietor is a persistent man.

10. No outside alcohol. Food is fine.

11. If I cannot see your face, I will remove you. No masks, no helmets. If you insist, I at least need to see your face for a moment before you further into the establishment.

These will all be treated by staff as a guard would treat someone breaking a law

Any breaking of these can be reacted however any staff member feels without the Proprietor present.

If the Proprietor is present, he will decide how to react.

We are currently hiring for a few positions, pay and other such things will be negotiated with the Book-Keeper.

Current Positions are below:

Proprietor: Hareven Lorenthus (TheKeefy)

Book-keeper: Ardreth (Gentharuz)

Waitress and Bar-staff: Sonna , Elaerys, Abigail

Brewery Staff: 

Tower Staff: Jackdaw, Tayna

Those who wish to be hired, should seek to contact the Proprietor and the Book-keeper.

We at the Owl's Perch hope to see you soon.