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Autumn of Victory: Interlude #26
Nerves Ffiona walks back and forth behind the tollhouse, waiting for someone to arrive. She has been here all day and her nerves have kept her from eating or drinking for much of it. Sending the letters had been the easy part, now she has to actually meet these adventurers and ask them for help. To most it might seem a trivial thing, but Ffiona is no Lord of Greyhawk who dabbles in hirelings as a resource to increase his wealth. Ffiona used to think of herself as a simple girl until she became caught up in the events of the Giant War. Yet even now, with all of that experience behind, her she is still having trouble asserting herself. For hours she has practiced her speech but the more she dwells on it, the more she feels inadequate to the task. Frustrated, she kicks at a small stone knocking it astray with the toe of her boot. She would not even be here if someone had listened to her. Everyone said things were fine, that the lwyress was merely weakened by the tribulations of the past few years and would recover in time, but Ffiona knew differently. Sierra was not sick; Sierra was dying. It was not evident to the casual observer, yet Ffiona could see - she could sense - that Sierra's own emotions, the untold burdens in her heart and head, were slowly and cruelly crushing her will to live. The direness of the situation had prompted Ffiona to look for an answer, anything, in Sierra's old letters, and it was there she had found a clue, or at least the name of someone who might know more. She had shared her concerns with a few trusted folk, but only Padrig understood what it was like to see a beloved wither before your eyes. His sympathetic ear had listened and he had even suggested this course of action. This was his idea, or at least mostly his idea. The two of them had discussed the situation at length and Padrig would have accompanied her himself, but he was dealing with his own father's slow demise. The former llwyr Bedwyn was a shell of his former self, a frail man who was only alive because his body drew breath out of instinct. Ffiona shuddered to think of Sierra falling to that state. Still, Padrig had been determined to do what he could to help and had been able to arrange a meeting as well as provide her the names of heroes she could call upon to escort her. Heroes, who she notes, have not yet arrived. The sound of horses crossing the last few yards of the Javan River and the raised voice of the fordmaster speaking with someone grabs her attention. Walking around the side of the building, Ffiona notices four armored knights, their horses shaking off the water on their coats, approaching the tollhouse. Her hope quickly turns to anxiety as she sees the argent owl emblem on their shields. They dismount and began searching around the stable. It is not difficult to figure out who they are looking for. She has nowhere to run so Ffiona merely steps back to the other side of the tollhouse and waits to be found. In moments, the four of them are there. "Lady Ffiona?" The Knight in charge asks. He looks vaguely familiar to her, but she does not bother trying to remember his name. "Yes?" "We are here to take you home. Your husband has commanded..." "Commanded who?" The man falters. "Uhm, commanded us to..." "To do what?" Ffiona asks, her voice defiant. Something inside her feels like it is about to tear free. With all of her will, she reaches out for it. "Well to...see you safely home." She can plainly see that this is not the way the poor Knight of the Dispatch had intended things to happen. She imagines Darian himself is out looking for her with another group and these four just happened to find her. "I am not going home yet. I told my husband this." Several other locals are watching what is going on. Some are armed and some are not. She has no wish to see these four caught up in an ugly fight that is not of their making. Indeed, they seem a little embarrassed to even be here. Their embarrassment though is not her problem. "We have our orders, my lady." The man tries to sound stern but Ffiona simply smiles. "Orders that are of no concern to me." Ffiona grabs hold of that elusive thing inside her and pulls until it gives. She cannot fail her friend and she cannot fail herself. Free of its shackles for the first time the nameless emotion pours forth. In a colossal bluff Ffiona spins the family ring on her finger. "Now since you have no authority on this side of the river, I suggest you return to Darian and tell him I will come home when my quest is done and not before. I assume you can find the road back to Arweth. Or do I need to call a few of the Griffon Guard to help you find it?" It's a child's bluff as she has no more than a passing acquaintance with the Grand Duke's guardsmen and certainly no magical means to call upon them in need. Whether they believe her or not the four Knights do not call her on it. "We can find the way, Lady Ffiona. Is there anything else you wish us to tell your husband?" Ffiona smiles. "Only that I love him." With a nod the four Knights return to their mounts and ride off, leaving Ffiona behind breathing a heavy sigh of relief, her first obstacle overcome. 
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