One Person to the World

The sound of a violin is audible over the hubbub of the temple district, the sound brought by the light breeze blowing by. People come and go, as they always do, adherents, priests, pilgrims and others.

On this particular sunny day, one small form isn't walking like they have some place to be, instead the albino in copper and blue robes is seated on the edge of the fountain. With feet swaying back and forth, and humming faintly along to the violin's song, Simony is focused on her sketchbook. Her pencil wiggles back and forth as she sketches out Daeus' home in the city.

One figure that steps out of the Temple of Serriel's grounds is that of a middle aged Eldenar man, his hair normally put up, is flopped to the side. A sword strapped over a shoulder, his grey overcoat laid open as he buries a hand into his face. He exhales deeply, him idly walking past the fountain, head lost in thoughts.

Her eyes glance sideways as Warrick approaches, and Simony waits until after he has passed, before hopping up to follow for a few steps. She reaches out to tug at his sleeved arm. "Hey.", she says, expectantly.

Warrick continues his ambling gait, distant before his sleeve is tugged at. He shakes his head, rolling back to now as he look down. He blinks. "... ah. Simony. Hello. Did you say something?" he says a touch quietly.

The albino smiles, and nods lightly. "I said hey. I was concerned about you. May I walk with you a while?" She starts flipping through her notebook, stopping on a page where the sketch takes up two pages. Definitely Warrick, in a fighting pose, his sword arcing forward. "I also have been sketching a lot lately, and would like to share this one."

Warrick blinks. "Ah. Yeah, you can," he nods, burying his hands into his pockets. Though, the image shown to him gets his brows to raise. "Oh. I... didn't know you drew. That looks rather well done. Thank you for showing me."

"I wanted to thank you, too. For your bravery, and for coming to my aid.", she says softly. "For a time, I was not sure if we would all see the next moment, let alone the dawn. I have never felt so scared, alone and helpless. But yourself and Tlanexhuani snapped me out of that."

Simony goes quiet for a time, simply keeping pace with the man. "I signed to you, yesterday, after we were victorious and surveying the graveyard. The offer stands, yes? You may find me at the monastery out past Vardama's temple, up the road." A pale hand gestures at the road leading up the mountain.

"Take your time to heal, but... don't wait too long to talk about it. It has a way of turning to deeper dispair if you let it eat at you for too long."

Warrick slows to a stop, him regarding Simony with his full attention. The typically neutral expression he wears cracks a smidge to a soft yet tired visage. "It's... you're welcome," he tries to find the words. "I held similar feelings, and the dredges of them are still in my bones."

He doesn't comment yet on the offer, as well as the potential outcome of letting problems stay bottled and fester. Slate eyes close, and he deeply inhales. "Yes. I'm... well aware, it is why I went to Serriel to pray," he quietly says. Another pause, fingers half twitching to his side of half formed signs. "... the situation we found ourselves in is not too dissimilar to something myself and some others have gone through during the wight invasion," he admits in a flat, controlled tone.

A pale hand slowly moves towards his, to gently touch if allowed. "It is difficult, to face a fear such as that, again. And platitudes about bravery are not much salve to sooth such pain."

The hand twitches away at the touch, it burying itself into a pocket. "Sorry," Warrick murmurs about that before resting on his back foot. He shakes his head. "No. Platitudes about bravery are for the glory seekers. I am not that, I just want the job done, and go back home to my daughter."

A long sigh escapes him. "Really don't like the undead. I'm just glad we came out of that far better than the last time I was in that situation. Did... you get yourself checked out? You were bit," he asks, a little concerned.

Her own hands wrap around the notebook, holding it to her stomach. Simony nods lightly in response. "I understand. The Guild's missions are dirty, messy and ugly. The things done for coin and ... civic duty."

She unconsciously rubs at her neck, which expose the ugly bruising and bite marks, made more evident by the paleness of her skin. "I am not infected with the ghoul sickness. I worry more for Sedev."

Warrick's eyes dull a bit. "Yeah. Though mostly for coin and less for civic duty. I am glad the folks we worked with had their head screwed on right. Some... don't. And it is frustrating, imagining what the Watch would have to do to clean up their mess." He rubs his face. "... so many reports I had to write while I was with them."

He glances at the bite, and bobs his head. "Good," he says firmly, him breathing easier. "We will need to check on him, and if he isn't better, force him to the temples. I don't want a repeat."

"You're a good man, for still considering such things. You can take the man out of the Watch, but not the Watch out of the man, I believe the saying goes?"

A hand pulls her hood back up, covering her wound and face from the sun. "I would go with you to see Sedev. I am still a novice, and cannot reverse the course of the disease, but I should be able to identify if he has it or not. I can also assist in bundling him up and taking him to a temple."

That gets a chuff to exhale from his nose. "Yeah," Warrick faintly chuckles. "Still trying to not salute people. But I'll get over it."

His brows furrow slightly. "Nay. Even if you cannot identify it is with him, if he even has it, it would be better for all if he went to a temple and had multiple confirmations. I know not the extent of what we fought, but I do not wish to take second chances after the city was besieged with undead."

Her notebook is tucked away into a pocket, and then her fingers move and gesture. "Harsh but fair." She moves to dodge a puddle, her fingers continuing. So we shall go and escort him to a temple. I will sit with him, if you need to go, and keep him company for a time." <Handspeech>

Warrick nods firmly at that. "I do not mind keeping vigil if need be. It is the least I could do," he motions back to her. Seemingly more relaxed at speaking with his hands.

A little bit more walking, and he mentions non-verbally, "Thank you for checking up on me. I have a friend that did similar, and she yanked me out of a rut due to it." <Handspeech>

Her fingers continue their movements, making small and precise signs. "We can share the vigil, hmm? I am sure Sedev would be bored, and perhaps scared. Some good company will do him good."

Simony smiles at him. "And that, my hero, is the least I can do for you. I am willing to listen, and I too, will do what I can to pull you from that rut."

"That sounds fine to me," Warrick agrees. But the mention of being called a hero gets him to pause. "I'm not a hero. I'm just a guy that can hold a crossbow without pissing himself," he gestures slowly before stating resolutely, "I will not go back to that rut. I've done it twice. But I appreciate the concern." <Handspeech>

"To the world, you are one person. To one person, you may be the world.", she offers with a smile. "And I am glad to hear it. Oh, so.. perhaps a tangent away from heavy topics. On the matter of learning merctalk, what would you expect as far as pay goes?"

Warrick can't argue with that. "I already have one person who's looking up to me, and that is all I need," he motions slowly. <Handspeech>

Topic shifting to Merctalk gets him to relax more, and he drops signing to say, "Enough to feed myself and my daughter for the day. Three silver a meeting doesn't seem too much, I think?"

"It doesn't change how I feel.", she signs curtly, before nodding. "I was thinking more like a gold per lesson. Three silver is too cheap, and if you do a thing well, you don't give it away cheap."

Warrick raises a brow at that, thinking to comment but instead lets it slide. It's clear he's not used to being put on a pedestal. Though the offer of a gold piece makes the other brow meet the previous one. "Deal," he agrees. "You are correct about that, and information isn't cheap. Though, I think you know that, Navosian."

"Think of it as another level of safety.", she says matter-of-factly. "If I'm paying /that/ much for a lesson, I am much more likely to hoard such information, rather than offer it up, yes?" Simony nods, and offers up a hand. "Deal."

A calloused hand clasps the pale one offered up at Warrick as he gives it a firm handshake before pulling away. "Or just turn it over for a profit at a higher rate, but trading a language for coin is... not the easiest thing for most folks," he shrugs. "But I don't care. The more guild-folk know Merctalk, the more efficient it can perform. And have some level of... professionalism," he grumbles. "Anyways. Thank you for checking on me. I need to go back home, as I didn't go there after our return. Cynthia has probably eaten all the food in the larder, and I fear the noodle shop down the road is next."

The Goblin blinks for a few moments, and then laughs loudly. Nodding, she grins up at Warrick. "Thank you, and you are most welcome. Be well, Warrick. I shall knock at your door some time soon, yes?"

Warrick chuckles, his spirits lifted somewhat. "And you as well. Perhaps, if you figure out where my house is. Anyways, take care. I'll be around the Fernwood the next few days if you want to do lessons."

And with that, he gives a wave from the hip before shoving his hands into his pockets and ambles off towards the bridge back home.

-End Scene-