As Dhann finishes the walk following the very poor directions Mirt provided in a poorly scrawled note, the place where the house is supposed to be is just an empty lot with a line of trees. Then, looking further back from the road, Mirt's mansion comes into view. It is called Mirt's Mansion for a reason. The home is built in a rough hexagonal shape with four round towers on its edges. It is no less than four stories tall and stands out like a castle among some of the ramshackle houses (and even some of the nicer ones).
Dhann goes up to the door, waits until a minute after ten in the morning, and knocks quietly.
Greeting Dhann with a polite and understanding smile, Mirt is not his jovial self. He shows the Cleric around the first floor of his home for a bit pointing out various treasures and briefly telling short tales of adventures with Durnan. Eventually they make their way to the stairs and head toward the basement. A few doors and locks and traps later, they've wandered through a somewhat labyrinthian path to arrive at the teleportation circle.
"Thank you," Mirt says with a solemnness in his voice that Dhann has never heard and that really doesn't suit him. "You all seem to have come out of nowhere and have taken such an interest in these people who were strangers to you only weeks ago. I can't say I understand what you've done but I can tell you how much I, and others, appreciate it. The Copper District, the plague, the Blackwoods. Your kindness seems to know no bounds. I can assure you; the right people have noticed. One way or another, you will be rewarded. Or, maybe properly thanked is a better word."
Dhann would swear he caught the glint of a tear in his eye but before he can be certain, Mirt turns and shows Dhann to the circle. "Here, just hold the stone like a showed you and use your thumb to rub on the rune that's on top. It's a bit disconcerting if you've never teleported before and you might get a little sick on your first few trips. You'll be fine."
Dhann listens politely and is actually quite interested in the stories, but doesn’t interrupt and only makes one or two courteous questions during the tour. It’s a grand house. Once at the circle, and Mirt says what he does, Dhann only gives an equally somber nod in response. “Thank you,” seems a bit shallow, “You’re welcome” is wholly inappropriate, and there seems to be an understanding that Mirt knows they’re not doing it for a reward.
“Is there any message you’d like me to give Lady Blackwood, or Erky?”
"Just remind her that I'll take care of things. I've got her two boys as long as she needs. Tell her to take her time to feel better. But maybe say 'I've got her boys' and leave out the 'two'," he says with a mischievous but guilty grin. It is hard for Mirt not to be Mirt, even in bad times.
Dhann gives a conceding smirk in response - might not be the best medicine but humor always does help, in its own way, and with a farewell nod, thumbs the teleportation rune on the stone.
A small winding up sound buzzes in Dhann's ears for just a moment like a fly that got to close and then a pop, much like the sound of an opening wine bottle.
As Dhann appears in the basement of Mirt's Hunting Lodge, he feels himself drop hard on the floor with the same feeling as missing the last step when walking down on a staircase. He doesn't fall but it is very jarring and, within just a moment, a wave of nausea passes over him. He realizes there is a chamber pot near every teleportation sigil he's seen and, making use of it, he now understand why.
He now suddenly realizes, the pot was right there because Erky was standing there waiting to hand it to him. "Don't worry. One or two more trips and you won't even notice it anymore.”
Erky passes the bowl to his right and Dhann sees it float away to be taken care of by an unseen servant. "This way please. I must warn you, she doesn't look good. I've only been able to get her bathe once and prestidigitation will only do so much. She was already doing poorly over the guilt about Iris and after dealing with Ander's prolonged sickness. She only barely noticed when Ander came to you all that he was not about. Then, when I told her about Bran, I think that was the last straw.
"The small amount of time she spends awake during the day, she sits in her nightclothes and just stares out the window. She will let me feed her some light broth sometimes but, for the most part, she's only doing as well as she is because of magic."
Erky leads Dhann through the familiar halls and upstairs to a room he has not visited. It seems to be a bedroom that's been converted to a sitting room with a balcony. Despite the cold of the approaching winter, all the picture windows are wide open and Lady Blackwood sits on a small, red settee staring out the window. There are three portrait frames turned down on the table next to her with a cold bowl of broth from earlier in the morning.
Dhann nods an acknowledging thanks to Erky, and looks to see if there may be another seat anywhere in the room. He’d like to just sit with her a bit and observe. But before that, keeping his voice very soft. “Has she said anything?”
Erky says, "She was talking a bit at the beginning but mostly just pleasantries: 'Good morning' and 'thank you' and the like. But even that stopped. She spent about two full days wailing after the news of Bran and then she hasn't really said anything else. She doesn't even cry. She just sits there or sleeps. Until the night time. Then, no matter where in the house I might be, I can hear her screams. She has truly become a tortured soul. I'm afraid I don't even know much about her or her background. I know about a few stories from Mirt but that was twenty odd years ago. She must have been through a lot since then."
Dhann thinks to himself, From what little I know, she has just in the time we became acquainted. “Thank you, Erky. I’d like to sit with her for a time, if that’s alright.”
“Oh, and....does she do anything if you shut the windows? Does she reopen them?”
Erky replies, "Yes, she does. She waits until I leave and then reopens each one, or even more than were originally open." He walks up gently behind the former noble woman and places his hand on her shoulder. “Dhann is here to see you ma'am. One of the people who helped Ander." She turns to look at him, smiles silently and slowly and then looks over at the young Cleric, and turns back to the windows. She doesn't seem to be objecting in any way to his presence.
Dhann stays silent, and follows at an appropriate distance and stands to where Lady Blackwood can clearly see him, but is far enough to give her space without feeling - if she does - crowded or harried. Dhann doesn’t say anything, but if she looks at him, will give a signature silent nod and assess her expression.
Lady Blackwood puts on a brief smile which fades almost as quickly as it appeared. She nods and looks down at her lap, smoothing her handkerchief on the blue velvet of her sleepwear.
Dhann looks at Erky. “Do you mind if I speak to her alone?” And to Lady Blackwood, “If I may?”
"No, not at all, I was just leaving." He departs, taking the soup and closing the door quietly behind him. Lady Blackwood smooths the kerchief again and nervously nods at your request.
A quiet breath, and he waits for the sounds of Erky’s footsteps to recede down the hallway - soon enough the two are left alone in the silence, in the chilled room. How appropriate.
[Dhann specifically does not tell the Maybesitters what he first says to her.]
She continues to stare while subconsciously or mindlessly flattening the wrinkles out of her currently wrinkle-free handkerchief over her knee.
He didn’t really expect an answer, anyway. Dhann doesn’t sigh, but his heart does. He realizes he’s about to do what he’s agonized over ever since the Fishery. Perhaps even before that.
Reaching into a pocket, he pulls something out, and gently takes one of Lady Blackwood’s hands to place the item in her palm, before folding her fingers around it and sending a bit of radiant warmth through his own hands, to her. He’s knelt in front of her, now, and looks into her face.
“Would you tell me about him?” He has left Bran’s signet ring in her palm.
She very slowly looks down into Dhann's eyes and then into her opening palm. She lets out a small chuckle and then squeezes it tightly. She closes her eyes and brings it to her face pressing her closed hand to her cheek hard. Tears roll down her face which appears far older than it should or than Dhann remembers.
After a very long pause, she relaxes her hand and takes the ring in both hands. She looks down at it and without looking up, "I knew he was Mirt's. I knew even before he was born. He could have been Lord Blackwood's of course, but I knew he wasn't. Lord Blackwood was so... proper. And as a baby, he was anything but. He would move at inopportune times; he would press on my bladder just when we were sitting to dinner; he would do jumping jacks it seemed just as I was falling asleep. And, after he was born, all that dark hair." She looks up at Dhann, "He was born with all that you know, just like you saw it." She smiles and then looks down again. It was the hair that gave it away. Lord Blackwood knew on the day Bran was born."
"He said he would raise him as his own. And, he did, he really did. In the best way he knew how. But he never loved him. I'm not even sure he really loved me for that matter." She pauses, seemingly reaching for the right words. "He never looked at him properly. You know, the way a father should watch his son when the boy doesn't know he's being observed?"
"He always knew what he was 'supposed' to say and he always said it. But there wasn't love behind it. Too many years of nobility, I suppose."
"As Bran grew up, four or five, I think, his precociousness started beaming through. There was no question he wouldn't at least try to answer, and he got most of them right, you know. He was always front and center in any room, clamoring for attention, anyone's attention. That's when Lord Blackwood appreciated him the most, I think. When he could show off his smart little child. But even then, he never really seemed proud. He was more like a ... nice piece of furniture really. Something you could let your friends look at and be jealous of but not something that gave you true joy."
"And then Maran came. His delivery took two days. If not for a cleric like you I would not have survived it. But I did it and I knew Lord Blackwood would finally have an heir and a child he could be proud of. And then Maran didn't talk. He didn't say one word until after Ander was born. You could see the pain in Lord Blackwood's face. He wore it every day. But still, he said all the right words and did all the right things."
"It was about then that I think I lost Bran. He stopped wanting cuddles, stopped running to me with a scraped knee or when his favorite toy broke. I thought he was just growing and finding comfort from the nannies or such. Then, I finally realized, he wasn't taking comfort from anyone. You know I never saw him cry after about age six? Not even once. Tutors would get cross with him and he would simply bear whatever punishments they doled out."
"When he was eight or nine, I found a small chest in his room. It was full of copper, silver and gold. There was even a platinum piece. I demanded to know where he got all this money, it must have been over 80 gold. All he would say is that he needed it. Of course, we took it from him. And instead of cry or stomp about or anything normal children do, he simply stopped speaking to us. He was civil enough and would answer questions and the like but nothing beyond that. Instead of the center of attention he became a recluse. He would do anything to avoid interacting with us."
She pauses speaking for a moment. She puts the ring on her forefinger and gives it a twist. It is obviously too big for her emaciated finger.
"I didn't really know what to do for him after that. He obviously didn't need a mother at the point and he certainly didn't want one. Lord Blackwood fell ill just around then so my attentions turned toward his care."
"From there, Bran's life is almost a blur to me. He started buying his own clothes and dressing himself so I gave him an allowance. Every so often he would ask me to increase it and I would. I figured at the very least I can give him money. That seems to make him happy for a time. Do you know he bought a ship when he was 17?" She chuckles for a moment about that and lets out a little smile.
"Brr.. Would you be a dear and close one of those windows? It is somewhat chillier today than I thought."
Dhann stands quickly, obediently, and pulls shut the window nearest to them, and asks, “Do you have need of anything else, while I’m up?”
"No, thank you dear. Where was I? Oh, yes, that damned ship. He called it the Westral. I don't know if he named it after me or if it was just close enough to be obvious that it wasn't named after me. I asked him about it, after the shock wore off and he just looked at me. It was a plain look but there was something new in his eyes, something dark. And then he turned and left.”
"Around this time there were so many people he brought into the house, spending one night or two and then they would be gone from his life. Strings of girls and even a few boys I suspect. But then they would be gone. One after another. Like broken toys he would toss them away."
The window latch clicks, and Dhann settles politely back to kneel in front of Lady Blackwood.
"From there, I have to say, I lost track of him. Isn't that a horrible thing for a mother to say. I just couldn't keep up with his coming and going. He'd be gone for days with no word or explanations. The only thing I could give him is money."
As Dhann kneels back down in front of her she looks up from the ring still on her finger into Dhann's face. "It's all gone you know. Everything. There is a small trust that provides for Ander and a little for Maran. I don't know how much is in that. Lord Blackwood set it up and his people hold those purse strings. But the fortune? The properties in Neverwinter and on the coast near Baulder's Gate? Lord Blackwood's fleet? It is all gone.”
"I suppose that is the saddest part. The only thing I had left to give him was the one thing I ran out of. He only found out recently. He went to the guildmasters who held our money and claimed the title of Lord Blackwood so they would speak to him. As persuasive as he was, it probably didn't take much to convince them. And they told him. They even told him he owed money still on the manor."
She takes a deep breath, "You know," she looks up, "I'm not sad I lost him a tenday ago. I'm really not. I'm sad I lost him twenty years ago. But I wasn't able to cry about it then. So, now," her voice gets louder and louder until it is almost a scream. ".. So, now, NOW, I've got twenty years of tears to shed! And I'll be damned if I'm going to stop because some little halfling or whatever he is tells me I shouldn't!"
She collapses into body wrenching sobs for a moment and then visibly moves into anger. "I should have stayed with Mirt! I never wanted all this! I never wanted it for me, I never wanted it for my baby! Mirt is the most irresponsible, irrational, unstable person I've ever met! But he would have loved my boy!"
She looks at Dhann, tears streaming down her red flushed face. "I loved him too. I really did. And, he's still gone.... but now, he's gone with no hope. There's no hope that he'll run to me because he scratched his knee or because someone was mean to him. There's just ... no... hope." She falls back in her chair into a quiet and still repose. She realizes she has clenched her handkerchief and suddenly realizes it is embarrassingly creased. She crosses her legs and places the handkerchief flat over her dark, velvet covered knee and begins to spread out the wrinkles.
[Dhann specifically does not tell the other Maybesitters what he says in response, besides mentioning to LB that Mirt most likely still hopes for a future with her, and her boys.]
"Yes, I suppose he does." A small smile crosses her face. "You're either very wise, young sir or very foolish. Isn't it funny how those two things can come so close together?" She chuckles a little at that and then a cough follows the chuckle. "Dear, I'm so sorry, I know we've met but, could you please remind me of your name?"
With the first real smile and headlift without tears or strain, Dhann can see she is physically unwell. Whether it be lack of food or nonstop mourning; she seems to have lost perhaps 25 pounds since they first met. Her hands are bony and she is clearly dehydrated and emaciated.
“I think the word that would fit those two together, milady, is hopeful. My name is Dhann.” He stands, and looks about for a shawl, or something. “Would you like me to ask the lovely Gnome downstairs if we might have some tea? It’s the least he can do after bossing you, as he seems to have so rudely done.” His tone is humorous, but his brow is concerned with her state of health.
"No, thank you dear. I do think I want those windows closed. And I'm sorry for what I said about Arkly... or Arky... blast, the halfling. That was unbecoming. Lord Blackwood had no patience for the smaller races. He said they were always underfoot and up to something. I suppose some of his awfulness rubbed off on me over the years."
"No, no tea, please. I think I would like to sleep now. I'm so very tired. I really appreciate our talk, Dhann. You are a true gentleman to sit with an old woman. But, if you'll forgive me for saying, I think you should leave now so I can get some rest. I'm just so very tired."
"Wait, before you go, do you know my other boys? Maran and Ander?"
Dhann extends a hand to help her stand, if she chooses to accept. “Yes, I do, ma’am. They’re with Mirt. As long as they need watching.”
She takes Dhann's hand and gestures to a larger more comfortable couch in the corner, further away from the windows. There is a pillow and a set of two blankets already laid there. No doubt Erky was thinking ahead. "I think I'd like to sleep here for a while. The light is so much nicer in this room. Thank you very much. And the boys are with Mirt. Do you think he'll take good care of them? He's so irresponsible and irrational?”
"And are they happy? It's been so long since I even allowed myself to think about them. They must be so angry with me."
Walking with her to the couch, Dhann replies, “I don’t think Mirt is irresponsible so much as not having had something to be responsible for, ma’am. He’s been nothing but the epitome of authority and seriousness in the time you’ve been away.” He helps her get comfortable, all the while making small talk about what Maran and Ander have been up to. And that they certainly don’t seem angry. Just hoping she’s alright. “Well, they’ve helped our Bard build a loom, Maran is incredibly gifted with things of a mechanical nature, we’ve noticed, and Ander’s quite the mature young man-“ He closes the windows, pulls shut one or two drapes, quietly talking the whole time, and checks to see if she’s dozed off...?
In a very drowsy voice she says, without lifting her head from the pillow, "Do you think they have hope? The boys?"
Dhann pauses for a second. “If anyone does, it would be those two...And they’re yours.”
She fades quietly to sleep but just before, in a very quiet tone, Dhann hears her mumble, "That's what I need. Hope. Maran, you're a good boy. But, I need Ander's Hope."
Dhann lights one of his sticks of incense, places it on the table, as well as the Blackwood token from all those Tenday ago. He leaves the portraits facedown.
Making sure LB is settled, Dhann goes downstairs to find Erky, leaving the door ever so slightly ajar. He politely tells the Gnome to have something light to eat ready so as soon as LB is up, if she asks for something to eat or drink, she doesn’t have to wait at all.
Erky looks at Dhann with a very patient and soft expression. "Yes, sir. I'll be sure to do that then." Dhann would, on the trip into the kitchen where Erky usually is, notice that Erky already has several meals lined up in trays that he is filling to be prepared for anytime Lady Blackwood would want to eat. He looks at all of this and then gives a little chuckle. "Thank you so much for coming. I heard her speak with you. I couldn't hear any specific words, mind you, just the talking of your voice and, most importantly, the talking of her voice. Thank you."
Dhann remembers the last time they were here and Erky’s formidable and incredible sense of hostmindedness and his face flushes. “Pardon, I- please forgive my rudeness. I should be listening to you.” He wants to brush it off, the thanks, but instead forces himself to simply say, “Thank you for having taken care of her for so long. Your help has been beyond giving. If there’s anything I might be able to help you with before I go?”
“I think she just needed someone to hear her.”
Erky replies, "I think we'll manage. I do hope you and your friends have a safe voyage."
Dhann says, “Thank you, sir. I’ll let Mirt know what’s happened. Oh- Lady Blackwood mentioned the light in the sitting room is enjoyable.” He gives a small bow and pulls out the teleportation stone. “Thank you very much for letting me come to your home once again. And for all of your help.”
The Gnome says, "And thank you so much for coming and for all you and your friends have done for this family. I don't know them well but I can tell you are all very interested in helping them get what they need. I do hope our paths cross again. I have very much enjoyed your company. Oh, and here, for your voyage. It isn't much but should you all find yourselves in a bind...." He hands over a very small package wrapped up in a pretty piece of fabric (that happens to match the drapes in the front room a little too well).
"You'll find a few little oranges inside, good for long sea voyages, but also a few very GoodBerries coated in chocolate. I think there are 8 in there. They'll last for a long while like that, covered in that chocolate. I have a friend in the wood who makes them for me and then, when I have time, I dip them in my own chocolate recipe to keep them fresh. They're very, very good for you," he says with a wink as he leads you back to the basement.
Taking the little box in both hands, Dhann nods. “Thank you, again, and to your friend in the woods as well. I’m sure these will be enjoyed.” He slips the package into his bag so he doesn’t drop it on the zap back to Mirt’s.
And at Mirt’s Mansion:
Showing Dhann back through the expansive first floor, he leads him out. "I'll be along up there very soon, I hope. Do enjoy your voyage. I'll" and he turns a bit more somber here again, "I'll look over everything here and take care of the boys. we should be fine. I could use some domestic time at home anyway. And this house is too big for just me right now anyway. I'm sure the boys will love it. Farewell, sir. It was a pleasure to see you today and thank you for helping Lady B. Until we meet again."