Fantasy Cavallon (Vvelvet, Sleepy Sleuth)

[Sleepy Sleuth]

It was another quiet night in the small village of Cavallon. It was even quieter at the only tavern in town. Morris O'Connell, the owner of The Soul Regret, ran a tight ship as befitted a former knight. Though he was strict, he treated his customers and his staff with courtesy and kindness. He worked the front counter every night, acting as both the bartender and the bouncer when the rare occasion called for it. Tonight was looking to be a normal night. A few local regulars, and the inevitable table of travelers passing through town to get somewhere more important. Most people would call those places 'better', but to Morris there was no better place to be than Cavallon.

He wiped down a few pewter mugs as he watched the patrons go about their daily lives. It had taken years for the locals to not consider him an outsider, but they had at last come around to his presence in town. They did not glare at him when they paid their tabs anymore, and that was good enough for him. He refilled a customer's cup of mead when something unusual occurred.

A lone girl came into the bar.

 

[Vvelvet]

Tavern antics had long gone due to these strange men arriving every Friday and Saturday night. Their manipulation had stolen half- infact, more than half of Morris' patrons.
The night was slow and nothing seemed to be happening until an unfamiliar woman entered. Due to the tavern being dominated by men, her presence caused quite a few odd glances.
After timidly asking for a large pint and reciving it, she drank from it slowly like it was a cup of warm hot chocolate. Not a word was said outside her order, her face looking genuinely worn out and sad while her tattered maidens dress signified she was of no higher stature than anyone else in the tavern. The arrival of the men seemed to unsettle her. She sat with her head low and her hands in her lap, as if she were trying to melt into obscurity while fiddling with a hang nail.

About 7 of these dudes had come in and welcomed themselves into random conversations with a smile. They sat down and began talking with the regulars, 7:14pm on the dot as per usual. What was more unusual though was how they never ordered a drink or acknowledged Morris.

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

Morris kept an eye on the seven strangers who prowled his tavern. They had become an unfortunately common sight as of late, scaring off customers and luring the desperate away with promises of a better life somewhere else. He did not like them on the best of days. His eyes drifted to the sword he kept hidden beneath the bar counter. It was a relic of the past, just like he was. He shook his head and turned his attention to the girl at the counter. She looked weary and a bit desperate. He tapped his knuckles on the bar to get her attention.

"Are those men bothering you, miss?" he asked, his voice smooth and touched with a foreign accent.

 

[Vvelvet]

Helen nodded and looked up at him worried. "Have..have they spoken to you yet? If not, please, dont believe a word they tell you," She begged of him, trying to keep her voice low so she isn't heard. Clearly she had a history with them and seemed against them, looking for Morris to hopefully be on her side eventhough she was a stranger.

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

"They've been coming around for months now," Morris replied. "Their words are laced with honey and poison in equal measure."

The former knight stayed close to Helen, though his attention was on the group of subversive strangers. They had not dared approach him directly, not yet at any rate, so Morris hoped his mere presence would be enough to shield the girl from their attention. He did not know exactly what they wanted. Perhaps they were a cult of some kind. It would not have been the first time he had crossed paths with one, though back then they were more obvious in their nature. This group was more careful about guarding its true agenda. For now, Morris was content to protect Helen from them.

 

[Vvelvet]

She nodded. "Exactly. I-I dont know who to tell about this. People will think I'm crazy when I just want to warn them."
Slowly, she sipped more of her drink. "They've completely convinced the womens community group that they have good intentions. I'm outnumbered and an outsider there now...so I came here to escape them..but.." Clearly she hadnt, these men had creeped into every aspect of Cavallon.
"They're promising a false life yet the most desperate of us want it to be true."

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

Morris lowered his head in thought at Helen's words. He did not recall seeing her before, nor did he know anything about a women's community group. Then again, his interests did not stray far from The Soul Regret these days. It was certainly possible he was just ignorant of the situation beyond his walls.

"Well, we outsiders ought to stick together," Morris said at length. "Do you know anything about these people? I have not had the dubious pleasure of a proper introduction with them."

 

[Vvelvet]

"I know an awful lot.." Helen nodded while looking down at her drink, then lowering her tone to a sheepish mumble once again, "..t-they are recruiting people into their cult." She then looked up at him with weak, sad eyes - her whole body shivering as she spoke.
"..they lie to people and tell them they are being relocated to a temporary living spot..when in reality they are being moved into a cult."
What evidence did she have? How could Morris trust she was telling the truth? The girl, however, looked desperately at him to believe her.

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

Morris nodded in response. He had no cause to doubt Helen's tale. It lined up with the suspicions he already had about the strangers. If nothing else, he was a good judge of character. The girl had no reason to lie to him. The men were obviously not with the constabulary, nor did they have the look of soldiers. Helen did not seem to be a criminal or a deserter, so he had no qualms about sheltering her. Besides, he would have been a poor knight indeed if he did not stand up for an obvious damsel in distress.

For the first time in a good while, Morris stepped out from behind the bar counter. He rarely had cause to interfere with what people did in the tavern, but tonight he made an exception. He approached one of the cultists with an amiable yet stern look on his face.

"Sorry, friend," Morris said to the cultist. "I'm closing up early tonight. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

 

[Vvelvet]

The recruiter of the cult nodded with a smile. "Well, there is so much more I can tell you about my corporation, however, it is clear I must go." He dressed formally, sticking out like a sore thumb compared to the patrons in tattered clothes. He took out a card from his pocket and handed it to the old man that he was talking to.
"Do take care of yourself. The directions are on the card." He turned and left without saying much else while the old man read through the card, seemingly intrested in joining.

Helen glanced at the interaction taking place, her skin crawling with fear, but upon seeimg him leave she sighed..but there were still tje other six guys talking to patrons.

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

Morris frowned at the retreating recruiter. Once the man was gone, he politely but firmly took the card from the old farmer and tossed it into the fireplace. It was clear to the retired knight that these cultists had a lot of money to throw around if they could afford to hand out such things. What was even clearer was that the other six men had not gotten the hint.

"All of you," he said in a loud stage-worthy voice. "It's time for you to leave."

 

[Vvelvet]

In sync, every single one of them ended the conversation the way the first one did and handed out their card with a big smile before leaving.
With these men being such smooth talkers while selling the dream life and the people of Cavallon wanting desperatly for an improvement, their manipulation seemed to work really well as patrons began to look at the card with interest.
Helen watched them leave and admired Morris' bravery, she could never confront someone so boldly.

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

Morris let out a small sigh and shook his head when the last cultist had left. He knew they would be back sooner or later. At least he had bought Helen a reprieve from their attention for the time being. He returned to his usual place behind the bar counter and refilled the girl's cup.

"You can speak freely, miss," he said. "Tell me, if you would, why you are trying to hide from those men?"

 

[Vvelvet]

She watched her drink get filled and felt her throat dry up as the question was asked. Then, Helen chugged some of her drink for liquid courage to speak out about her experiences. "I was part of their cult at one point. Born into it. I escaped only a few years ago and they'll drag me back if they f-find me," Her explanation was proven as she rolled up her dirty sleeve to show him the tattoo on her arm which read; ' VICTOR'S UNDERLING. 196. BLOOD BORN. '

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

Morris looked the tattoo over. He did not know who Victor was, but he guessed the man was someone high up in the cult. Either that, or the cult was very interested in keeping track of bloodlines. With a sympathetic glance at Helen's face, he patted her on the hand and gently pulled her sleeve back into place.

"Fret not," he said in a gentle tone. "I can shelter you here, or I can take you somewhere else if you prefer. Do you have anywhere safe to go?"

 

[Vvelvet]

"Yes..I do. I have a safe home. I suppose it's just up to me to make s-sure I'm not caught.." Her voice shook, still clearly fearful of being found out and tracked down. "You've probably noticed they've moved so many people from Cavallon into this 'relocation prosess'..but they won't be coming o-out..they'll be brainwashed into worshiping their God..Victor," She clarified, emphasising the danger of this toxic cult. "I want to stop this," Her desperation was clear. "No one here d-deserves the life I've lived..no one.."
The drink began to take its affect, making her slur her words a little more.

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

"If you tell me where to go, I can take you to your home," Morris offered. "The drink looks like it's hitting you pretty hard. I cannot in good conscience send you out on the road alone in this state."

Without waiting for an answer, the retired knight set about the process of closing down the tavern for the night. He sent the waitress home early with a generous bit of extra money, offered the customers a free drink the next time they came in, and locked everything down. Once he and Helen were alone in the tavern, he donned his coat and, after a few moments of deliberation, buckled his sword to his belt. He hoped he would not need it.

 

[Vvelvet]

In the short time it took Morris to close, Helen had finished her drink and had become drunk. Her lips quivering and her hands shaking as she looked near tears..well her face always looked like that really.
"..S-Sir..Please don't believe their m-manipulation," Her begging was slurred as she forgot he'd already believed her.
"..T-They'll hurt people..they did it to m-me.." Tears began to stream down her face as she tried to stand up and leave but she nearly fell over. "..naugh.."

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

Morris moved to catch the girl before she fell. It seemed Helen had already forgotten he had promised to help her. With a steady hand on her shoulder and an arm around her waist, he led her behind the bar counter and gently set her down on the floor. Morris ran a tavern, not an inn, so there were no rooms for her to stay the night. He did, however, keep a few spare blankets for when his waitresses needed someplace to sleep and could not go home. Morris did his best to set up a makeshift bed for Helen behind the counter.

"You can sleep here tonight," he said in a firm but kind voice. "We'll talk more come dawn."

 

[Vvelvet]

Helen was too drunk to respond, she was still sobbing having her trauma come back to her like a bag of bricks. Sluggish, the girl crawled into the makeshift bed and was asleep with in minutes. Clearly she needed a good nights sleep with her eyebags and tired deminor. Maybe in the morning she'd be more stable after sleeping off the alcohol.

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

Morris waited until Helen was asleep before he draped a blanket over her shoulders. Once he was certain she was not going to run off in the middle of the night, he sat down on a barstool and propped himself up against the counter. His sheathed sword rested on his lap as he took his vigil. It was going to be a long night, but at least it was not the worst place he had camped out before. The fire slowly died down to embers in the hearth as the night crept on. The old knight rubbed his tired eyes as the dark hours of the night eventually gave way to the first gray hour of the dawn.

 

[Vvelvet]

Morning comes..eventually..and Helen wakes up dizzy and a little comfused. The girl sits up and groans a little before speaking, "..Sir? I'm sorry for crying last night," She immediately feels guilty for almost trauma dumping on him. "Did I keep you here overnight? I'm so so sorry."

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

Morris shook his head and stifled a yawn behind his calloused hand. The former knight found it difficult to stay awake all night, but he had managed it through sheer willpower. As soon as he heard Helen stir, he rose from his seat and went around behind the bar where she lay.

"There's no need to apologize, miss," he said as he knelt beside her. "The important thing is that you're safe. Come, I'll fix us a bit of breakfast before we get our journey underway. That is, of course, if you still want me to take you home."

 

[Vvelvet]

Helen nods, stumbling to get up. "For you to offer me breakfast is very kind of you Sir, thank you." She smiled weakly as she followed him, trying to undo the knots on her hair from sleeping.
"If..if I remember correctly..I confided in you about what I thought of those men last night, right?"

 

[Sleepy Sleuth]

"Liars, cultists, and kidnappers," Morris summarized as headed into the tavern's kitchen. "Did I miss anything, Helen?"

The retired knight tossed some tinder into the oven and lit the fire with a bit of flint and steel. Once the stovetop was heated, he cracked a few eggs into a pan. Morris was a man of many talents, but cooking was not one of them. Scrambled eggs were the extent of his culinary skills.