Ding dong the lord is dead.
Who: Ownah and Odern (NPCed by Lemos)
Where: Five Mines Hold
When: On day 16, month 2, turn 4 of the 7th Pass.
What: A tragic accident occurs when Odern is unable to keep his footing on treacherous stairs. Sadly, Ownah is unable to save him from a nasty fall.
7/26/2007
Day 16, month 2, turn 4 of the 7th Pass.
It's really not nighttime anymore. Midnight is past and although it's going to be some hours til the sun rises it is late enough to be considered morning and no longer night. Too early for most of the hold to be up working there are still some people who have tasks that drag them from warm beds and out into cold hallways. In this instance the person in question has with her a mop and a bucket. Evening treks by people often have snow carried in which then melts and creates hazards. It may not be important all over the hold for such things to be tended to immediately, but down some hallways more pampered feet would hate to slip. So, Ownah finishes off the stairs leading to this hallway before taking a break to tug down the sleeves of her sweater a little farther and examine exactly how bad the job is going to be. Not too bad, but it still needs doing or else. Besides, she'd never do a job halfway.
More pampered feet should be in bed, but they are not. Lord Odern comes shuffling down the hallway at this questionable hour, dressed up as nicely as he ever is in the daytime (what little people see of him in the daytime) and allowing no hint to slip through his impeccable manner as to what brings him here at this hour - a sleepless night, or an early morning? His freshly shined shoes click on the floor with a swift, businesslike pace as he strides past Ownah, sparing not even a look for the simple cleaning girl as he bustles back towards his room.
Anonymity is a good thing. Being one of the little people affords all sorts of opportunities that more well known people might never get. So, even though Ownah was just going to take up the mop again and get back to work she has this chance. The first one she's had since she's started looking for one and possibly the best she's going to get. The hows of the job were never quite solidified in her head, but that's ok. Taking an opportunity and making something of it was a lesson she learned well. "Excuse me, lord," are the words that come out soft, respectful, entirely subservient and there's little she has to fake in it despite what her personal feelings might be. "There were a mess, lord. I was told to clean it up. Might want to wait til I can. Gettin' right on it, lord, promise. Just got up the stairs, lord. Sorry." In her mind, at least, lords are not the sort to want to walk near messes of dubious undefined types.
Odern draws back from his next step, which would have put him closer to that infested stair. He squints at it, jutting his chin forward though his feet stay primly rooted in place. "Well, what is it?" he demands snappishly, turning his squint on Ownah. There are distinct pouches of darkness underlining his gaze.
Ownah peers down the stairs as her head shakes. "Ain't sure, lord. Were just told to clean it up. Won't take but a second. Promise." Again with the deference of her tone she hefts the mop and doesn't seem to notice a few drops of water that pool on the stone floor. Without another word she heads down the stairs without looking back. With any luck the supposed mess between him and his destination will hold him in place.
Her time is limited, but Lord Odern is generous enough to let her know just how limited it is. "Finish quickly," he commands her, as if his command were all that was necessary to shorten the time it takes her to clean up the stairs. "Otherwise I'd be better served going another way; can't you hurry, girl?" Nevermind he's had to wait all of three seconds since the last time he enjoined her to hurry up, but the Lord was moving briskly when he approached the stair and he looks impatient to move briskly again.
There being no mess it's not as if she has to take her time. More importantly is the fact she wants him at or near the top of the stairs so she makes a show, a quick one, of mopping. After his last demand she hurry Ownah counts to twenty and then hurries back up. It helps she decided to make the mess only halfway down the stairs. Mop in hand she makes her way back up to where the impatient lord awaits his passage to be clear. "Sorry, lord. Didn' mean to take so long. Sorry." Ducking her head she doesn't even come close to looking up. An abusive husband at least teaches one how to act around those who think they are better than you.
Odern bothers to watch her for only a second when she reemerges from the stairs, his nose twitching with a prim sniff. Her apology is accepted as his due, and the Lord of Five Mines simply moves on without responding, picking his way to the wetted stairs and taking a careful step in his shiny shoes. The danger of a wet staircase means that he /still/ cannot move briskly, which means that he is still impatient and irritable and thus jerky in his movement.
The wet stairs are the least of his concerns. Although they do make him go slower so perhaps that was the plan all along. Standing by her mop and bucket Ownah waits for the lord to move past her before she moves again. It doesn't take much movement to get where she needs to be which is quietly right behind Odern. Then she waits until he is taking a step. "Watch your step, lord." She offers the words quietly still, but her tone is no longer at all what it should be for a cleaner girl addressing Five Mines' lord. What's even less as it should be is the way she grabs his shoulders up high and shoves as hard as she can to send him tumbling down head first. If hauling laundry all over two holds and a weyr has given Ownah anything it's a strong upper body.
As soon as he hears a voice, Odern snaps a glare over his shoulder to reproach the servant girl for speaking to him again. It is his undoing. He gets a glimpse of Ownah bulling at him, but before he can frantically readjust his world view to allow for the possibility that a non-entity would /dare/ lay a hand on him, he's tumbling down the stairs, and the bend in his neck becomes a permanent feature with a loud, sickening crack. As it turns out, she didn't need to make him wait: he's dead before he gets anywhere near the bottom, and his body slides to a halt on the very last stair. His wide eyes and pinched face have frozen in a rictus of disbelief an rage.
She holds where she is as he goes down and just watches. Other than the noises of him falling, after all, there's no sound to be heard. Pulling her hands back as soon as he's been pushed Ownah wraps her arms around her body. Still as a statue she doesn't wince when she hears the snap or when he comes to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Dangerous as it is she doesn't move after he's stopped either. Not until something, some imagined noise, causes her to move. Back up those few steps to grab the bucket with nothing more than a few inches of water in it and the mop. These she carries down the stairs, swiftly but carefully so she doesn't wind up next to the former lord of Five Mines. At the bottom of the stairs she pauses near the body to stare at it a moment. Then she crouches down to be /sure/ he's dead. Never having seen a dead man and all.
Very few living men like to lie with their heads at that angle, but if it's any comfort to her, there's no breath entering or leaving the body. It will glare back at her, though, if she chooses to stand between it and the wall.
Sticking around is not in the plan. Once she knows he's dead Ownah straightens up and peers around to be sure she knows where she is at. And, as soon as she's figured out where she's at she heads off on her way. Let someone else find the body. She leaves it as it is to be found. It's not her problem.
Where: Five Mines Hold
When: On day 16, month 2, turn 4 of the 7th Pass.
What: A tragic accident occurs when Odern is unable to keep his footing on treacherous stairs. Sadly, Ownah is unable to save him from a nasty fall.
7/26/2007
Day 16, month 2, turn 4 of the 7th Pass.
It's really not nighttime anymore. Midnight is past and although it's going to be some hours til the sun rises it is late enough to be considered morning and no longer night. Too early for most of the hold to be up working there are still some people who have tasks that drag them from warm beds and out into cold hallways. In this instance the person in question has with her a mop and a bucket. Evening treks by people often have snow carried in which then melts and creates hazards. It may not be important all over the hold for such things to be tended to immediately, but down some hallways more pampered feet would hate to slip. So, Ownah finishes off the stairs leading to this hallway before taking a break to tug down the sleeves of her sweater a little farther and examine exactly how bad the job is going to be. Not too bad, but it still needs doing or else. Besides, she'd never do a job halfway.
More pampered feet should be in bed, but they are not. Lord Odern comes shuffling down the hallway at this questionable hour, dressed up as nicely as he ever is in the daytime (what little people see of him in the daytime) and allowing no hint to slip through his impeccable manner as to what brings him here at this hour - a sleepless night, or an early morning? His freshly shined shoes click on the floor with a swift, businesslike pace as he strides past Ownah, sparing not even a look for the simple cleaning girl as he bustles back towards his room.
Anonymity is a good thing. Being one of the little people affords all sorts of opportunities that more well known people might never get. So, even though Ownah was just going to take up the mop again and get back to work she has this chance. The first one she's had since she's started looking for one and possibly the best she's going to get. The hows of the job were never quite solidified in her head, but that's ok. Taking an opportunity and making something of it was a lesson she learned well. "Excuse me, lord," are the words that come out soft, respectful, entirely subservient and there's little she has to fake in it despite what her personal feelings might be. "There were a mess, lord. I was told to clean it up. Might want to wait til I can. Gettin' right on it, lord, promise. Just got up the stairs, lord. Sorry." In her mind, at least, lords are not the sort to want to walk near messes of dubious undefined types.
Odern draws back from his next step, which would have put him closer to that infested stair. He squints at it, jutting his chin forward though his feet stay primly rooted in place. "Well, what is it?" he demands snappishly, turning his squint on Ownah. There are distinct pouches of darkness underlining his gaze.
Ownah peers down the stairs as her head shakes. "Ain't sure, lord. Were just told to clean it up. Won't take but a second. Promise." Again with the deference of her tone she hefts the mop and doesn't seem to notice a few drops of water that pool on the stone floor. Without another word she heads down the stairs without looking back. With any luck the supposed mess between him and his destination will hold him in place.
Her time is limited, but Lord Odern is generous enough to let her know just how limited it is. "Finish quickly," he commands her, as if his command were all that was necessary to shorten the time it takes her to clean up the stairs. "Otherwise I'd be better served going another way; can't you hurry, girl?" Nevermind he's had to wait all of three seconds since the last time he enjoined her to hurry up, but the Lord was moving briskly when he approached the stair and he looks impatient to move briskly again.
There being no mess it's not as if she has to take her time. More importantly is the fact she wants him at or near the top of the stairs so she makes a show, a quick one, of mopping. After his last demand she hurry Ownah counts to twenty and then hurries back up. It helps she decided to make the mess only halfway down the stairs. Mop in hand she makes her way back up to where the impatient lord awaits his passage to be clear. "Sorry, lord. Didn' mean to take so long. Sorry." Ducking her head she doesn't even come close to looking up. An abusive husband at least teaches one how to act around those who think they are better than you.
Odern bothers to watch her for only a second when she reemerges from the stairs, his nose twitching with a prim sniff. Her apology is accepted as his due, and the Lord of Five Mines simply moves on without responding, picking his way to the wetted stairs and taking a careful step in his shiny shoes. The danger of a wet staircase means that he /still/ cannot move briskly, which means that he is still impatient and irritable and thus jerky in his movement.
The wet stairs are the least of his concerns. Although they do make him go slower so perhaps that was the plan all along. Standing by her mop and bucket Ownah waits for the lord to move past her before she moves again. It doesn't take much movement to get where she needs to be which is quietly right behind Odern. Then she waits until he is taking a step. "Watch your step, lord." She offers the words quietly still, but her tone is no longer at all what it should be for a cleaner girl addressing Five Mines' lord. What's even less as it should be is the way she grabs his shoulders up high and shoves as hard as she can to send him tumbling down head first. If hauling laundry all over two holds and a weyr has given Ownah anything it's a strong upper body.
As soon as he hears a voice, Odern snaps a glare over his shoulder to reproach the servant girl for speaking to him again. It is his undoing. He gets a glimpse of Ownah bulling at him, but before he can frantically readjust his world view to allow for the possibility that a non-entity would /dare/ lay a hand on him, he's tumbling down the stairs, and the bend in his neck becomes a permanent feature with a loud, sickening crack. As it turns out, she didn't need to make him wait: he's dead before he gets anywhere near the bottom, and his body slides to a halt on the very last stair. His wide eyes and pinched face have frozen in a rictus of disbelief an rage.
She holds where she is as he goes down and just watches. Other than the noises of him falling, after all, there's no sound to be heard. Pulling her hands back as soon as he's been pushed Ownah wraps her arms around her body. Still as a statue she doesn't wince when she hears the snap or when he comes to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Dangerous as it is she doesn't move after he's stopped either. Not until something, some imagined noise, causes her to move. Back up those few steps to grab the bucket with nothing more than a few inches of water in it and the mop. These she carries down the stairs, swiftly but carefully so she doesn't wind up next to the former lord of Five Mines. At the bottom of the stairs she pauses near the body to stare at it a moment. Then she crouches down to be /sure/ he's dead. Never having seen a dead man and all.
Very few living men like to lie with their heads at that angle, but if it's any comfort to her, there's no breath entering or leaving the body. It will glare back at her, though, if she chooses to stand between it and the wall.
Sticking around is not in the plan. Once she knows he's dead Ownah straightens up and peers around to be sure she knows where she is at. And, as soon as she's figured out where she's at she heads off on her way. Let someone else find the body. She leaves it as it is to be found. It's not her problem.