[OOC Careful what you wish for: the true story of how Revvy got his curry.]
Aen had advised her that if she could not find a shortcut to the Old Lands from Kitins’ Lair, the shortest route would be from Silan. Kitins’ Lair had been a dead-end, so here she was, back where her journey has started. She can still remember no further back than her regaining consciousness just south of the Karavan Embassy, the victim of an obvious assault. But by whom and for what reason, she has no idea.
Lacuna wanders around the ranger camp in Silan. She is shocked by how quiet it is. When she as last here the camp was full of newly arrived refugees recuperating and learning the basics of the skills they would need when the moved on to their new lives in the New Lands. It was a vibrant if fluid community. She, herself, had stayed far longer than she really needed to - apprehension of what lay ahead stalling her decision to leave for the mainland. She smiles as she remembers her frustration of trying to find zun amber so she could impress Milles Dodoine with her burgeoning foraging skills. Ironic that the skill that was her bane here would become her obsession. She has decided to stay a few days and rest before setting off to find Melkiar. If she is honest, trepidation makes her delay her departure as much as it did her younger self in travelling the opposite direction. If Lacuna was more given to introspection she might ponder on the symmetry of her journey. Broken, lost and alone she arrived from the Old Lands - lost, alone and no less broken she prepares to venture back.
As she wanders through the camp her mind wanders in time …
Lacuna is not sure how she ended up finally agreeing to cook Revvy a curry, but she is not happy about it. Being nice to a male was… well… just not her. Being brutally violent, in a constructive manner, yes.* But nice… it was just… He must have tricked me. ’Hmmmmm, the swine must have gotten me drunk. That must be it. The git! Imagine taking advantage of a poor, innocent homine!’ Lacuna paced up and down ranting.
Sad and Bazett looked on perplexed as Lacuna carried out a rather loud conversation with herself. They rolled rolled their eyes behind Lacuna’s back and avoided making any comment about how Lacuna’s ability to get blind drunk on half a glass of beer was as legendary, as her suggestibility while drunk, not to mention, her complete and utter refusal to accept any responsibility for her actions, whatsoever. It was always someone else’s fault. Reality and Lacuna are very, very distant neighbours. Revvy was just the latest in a long line of homins who bore the brunt of Lacuna’s obsessive paranoia.
Lacuna realised that she was left with a tricky dilemma - cook it well and satisfy her pride, as she was rather conceited about her cooking skills, or poison the evil, cheating, little scumbag. Sadly Lacuna knew she did not possess Binarabi’s skills at martial cookery [Her Red Right Hand]. Nevertheless, she could always experiment and make Bones test them out. And it was a curry; the spices could hide the taste of a wide range of inventive ingredients… at the very least she should be able give the swine explosive diarrhoea.
As the memory retreats she wonders if Revvy ever worked out the secret ingredient in his curry was the putrefying Yelkoo fat and jugula secretion that she used to tan Mekoo skins. She knows Mithian saw her adding this final touch to the cook pot, but for some reason he didn’t tell his lazy guild mate. He simply sat with a small, secretive smile on his face as he watched Revvy greedily shovel the curry into his mouth.
She has failed to find her sisters. The sadness is growing in her. At times, she wonders if they were real, or just a figment of her imagination, broken memories. The song is calling her still, but she has a task to complete first…
*Lacuna is a firm believer in the Mindless Violence School of Learning: give a homin a fish - feed him for a day; beat a homin senseless and next time he will get his own fish.