Saskia Kerraelas

Saskia Kerraelas

The Shadow Knight
Weaver
"Gruki!"

The call came from seemingly nowhere, not until dust kicked up under Syr Kerraelas' boots. She was running, for the life of her, but there was no pursuant after her. Instead, as she forced people to step out from her way, she held a wooden box.

"Gruki! Wait for me!" She yelled, her voice carrying. "Gruki! I have little legs!"

A lie, but not a lie. In terms of humans, Saskia was tall for a young woman. In comparison to her friend? Saskia indeed had a shorter pace.

There was several yards between herself and the other, but from that distance it was not hard to pick her out. She heaved. Coughed. Came to a pause as she greedily took whatever air she could to rush her heart beat to normal and also give her strength and stamina for the last run to reach the half-orc. "I have biscuits!" She yelled, her face pulling with exhaustion. The Shadow Knight set off again, not minding the odd stares she garnered from others going about their day.

Biscuits, sweet at it's basic but then drizzled in caramel and dusted with cinnamon, she had baked them triumphantly! And not a single person sent to the infirmary either! She even tasted them first, her confidence further bolstered by others that tentatively had a bite and were surprised it didn't taste all that bad. In her excitement, she had placed the biscuits in a wooden box and went to seek out anyone she knew. Faramund had been the first, and had kindly taken two biscuits, but Saskia wondered if he would actually eat them or give them away to someone he didn't really particularly like.
 
A quiet trip to the market, that had been the plan. A hop, skip and stroll down the road to Astenvale town. A bit of perusing, some choosing, maybe. As well as a few last minute requests from her friends who'd been unable to get away from their duties.

Her coin purse could've done with some padding, but she knew they were good for it. They would pay her back when-

'Gruki!' Uh oh. Glancing over one shoulder, the she-ork fixed her hair with a sweep of her hand as Saskia's voice reached her. Knights and squires stopped what they were doing to watch the scene unfold, curiousity piquing momentarily, only to be discarded once they realised what was happening. 'Gruki! I have little legs!' In other words, slow down, so I can catch up to you.

Looking down at her own feet, the big half-orkin shrugged, kept on walking, albeit with shorter strides this time.

Mention of biscuits bade her halt, and she turned back, a warm smile shining bright beneath eyes of burning gold. 'Biscuits?' She repeated the word, tasted it, like one might a blueberry muffin. Or one of those cute little cookies with the raisins in. Maybe I'll do some baking later, she mused, the scuff of booted feet interrupting her thoughts.

'Sassy!' Gruki threw her arms out to steady the dusker as she staggered to a stop. 'What's got you in such a rush?'
 
She was a woman exhausted, exceeding her own perception of her endurance. The widening of Gruki's arms promised that there would be someone to actually stop Saskia, for it felt her legs were now moving on their own accord with disconnect to her own conscious thoughts. Her face, red from exertion and desperate attempts of breathing, turned from a panicked expression to one of the worst grimaces as she prepared for collision.

Did it occur to her to slow down the closer she got to Gruki? No.

What did occur to her was that the wooden box of biscuits would be in the impact zone, but her mind had enough quick thought to alter her positioning. She twisted her torso, shoulder poised to collide into her friend first. Arms held the box at the opposite hip that faced away from impact, thus protecting it within the tight grip her fingers held onto it.

CRASH!

Saskia let out a strangled yelp. Her feet hadn't stopped. Tripping over her boots, Saskia quickly twisted herself to keep the box steady and away from harm. When she landed onto the earth, she let out a grumble.

There, before her, was Gruki. A shadow casted over Saskia, and it sung to her as it always did when it came to Gruki. Ignoring her pain and bruises, she lifted the box higher triumphantly.

"Biscuits!" She wheezed.
 
Gruki's eyes widened as Saskia twisted, favouring the box over her own wellbeing. Arms meant to brace instead found nothing but empty air as the dusker tripped over her feet, like an acrobat who'd yet to discover the limits of her body. Gruki would have laughed, had she not been so worried.

But she was, so she didn't.

'Biscuits? Oh, Saskia!' Shaking her head, the she-ork took the box and placed it aside. Stepping carefully, she bent to take both of Saskia's hands in her own. Helped her to rise. 'What was all that for?' She asked, brushing the dust and gravel from the knight's half-cloak. 'You know I would have waited for you.'

Checking her friend over for bumps and scrapes, the big squire sighed, relief flooding her chest.

'Must be plenty good, if you're willing to hurl yourself at my feet like that,' she smiled, stooping to retrieve the box, once she was sure Saskia could stand of her own volition.

'Let me guess: caramel?'

Slowly, she cracked open the lid, nose crinkling in recognition.
 
Saskia continued to ignore her sores, beaming as she watched Gruki pry open the box. "This time, no one's teeth are going to chip on these!" Her voice was still hoarse, slowly returning to her usual cadence. "Trust me, Gruks. I have figured out the very thing I was missing all the other times!"

Perhaps all her failed attempts at baking had left her sister-knights and brother-knights hesitant to try and more of Saskia's muses for baking. It was a skill that required precision, and she had skipped steps and skirted around corners in the past, but this time there was a new ingredient.

"This time, I took my time." When they got no reaction, she sighed. Her eyes closed, briefly, before opening up to try and explain again. "Patience, my friend. It truly does make the difference to stop and read the recipe's method. I even kept an eyes on the oven, make sure that fire didn't make things hotter than it needed to! And the caramel! I kept my eyes on that pot and made sure it didn't burn and fuse to the bottom!"

Proud. Saskia was so proud of herself, she wanted it to share with all her friends. "If you don't want one, then we can go find others to try it. Maybe we avoid Syr Meanroe. Blight, I don't think I am up for offering myself up to her slaughter." Things hadn't gone well the last time Syr Cathmore had sampled a baked good by the Shadow Knight.
 
'In other words, you did it exactly how you're supposed to,' Gruki grinned, plucking a biscuit from the box before passing it back to Saskia. 'Patience is a virtue, after all. Well done?' Taking a cautious bite, the she-ork nodded in approval, brows lifting in delight. Not too hard, not too soft. 'Just right' was a hard thing to find, and it took a lot of trial and error to find the perfect balance.

'Syr Cathmore is a... um, acquired taste. Still, I'm sure she wouldn't say no to one of these.'

Holding up her half-eaten biscuit, Gruki smiled, shrugged her shoulders. 'We could go find Roki or Pyp, maybe. Hel, we could even try the Captains.' A daunting prospect, truly, but everyone knew they were partial to the occasional treat. A good number of knights were for that matter. Squires included.

A boxful of biscuits might not be the cure to the world's woes, but it sure made Gruki feel better. Besides, half the time it wasn't even about the biscuits, but the effort that had been put into making them.

'Let's go see who we can wrangle up,' said Gruki, linking arms with Saskia. For support. 'And no rushing! We've got all day. May as well try to enjoy it while it lasts.'
 
Grateful for Gruki, and grateful for the helping hand, Saskia could not wipe the grin off her face as she was helped to stand upright as they began to walk.

"Gods, Gruks. I can't be serving these to the Captains. If this is my peak, then I am surely to have batches of biscuits that get worse and worse before I improve again." Even if Saskia followed the method to the very word written, she was sure there was a way she would ruin it. Out of every hobby she picked up, baking had become the bane of her existence. Nevertheless, Saskia was never one to admit defeat. Even if she complained and grumbled about it, Saskia would return to that oven and would try again.

Although, Gruki was right about the day! It was not a scorching day, nor a rare cool day of the season. It was just right. The gentle breeze provided enough comfort to gentle stir against the pair. "You really think they would enjoy the biscuits? The Captains?" Perhaps she should set a couple aside, wrap them up nice and neat, and have them sent to them.
 
'Why not? They're good biscuits. I could certainly go for another, only... Well.' Greed had never been much of a motivator for Gruki. But she liked her food. A lot. 'I find cooking works best when you don't go chasing perfection,' said the she-ork, finger raised like she was about to go into a longwinded lecture on the whats and whatnots of caramel biscuits. 'Same applies to baking, so don't go beating yourself up. Squire's orders.'

Putting her legs into motion, Gruki smiled, stride shortening with each consecutive step.

'I planned on heading into town until you came along,' she confessed, the satchel slung over her shoulder bouncing against her hip as she walked, side by side with Saskia. 'Would you care to accompany me? We could grab a drink, do some shopping.'

A couple suggestions to pique the Shadow Knight's interest. Gruki watched her intently, a small smile on her green face. 'It's okay if you don't want to,' she hastened to add. 'I just thought it might be nice, y'know? Give us a chance to catchup.'
 
Patience was something Saskia liked to think she possessed, but of course, her impatience seemed to win out more times than she could count. It was an utter fluke that she did so well with this batch, but celebration was truly warranted. In took place in the ever present grin that was never far from her expression; in the way she skipped beside Gruki to keep up with her longer strides. Any forming bruises and sore muscles were ignored, as she often did until much later in the day when her body would be feeling it.

"Oh! I would love to go into town with you! I was thinking of going tomorrow actually!" Yet having company always appealed more to the Shadow Knight. "I have some coin to unload from my purse. Been thinking of looking for a nice new riding cloak as we come into the cooler months. Do I need a new one while I have my old one? Perhaps not. Do I deserve a new one? Most definitely!"

Saskia did hold patience for the oddest things, and saving up coin was one of them. She had begun to mend her own gear and clothes in place of buying new, of learning to make her own clothes instead of splurging on decadent pieces. There was truly a skill in making something with your own hands, and that sort of thrill was something Saskia was keen to chase.

"Any time I can get with my favourite of the 'Kis is to be truly treasured." She told Gruki, glancing up at her with a bright beaming smile. "Feel free to rub it into Roki's nose he has been dethroned." A vicious cycle of favourites, but Saskia always came out on top whenever she got to see all her friends.
 
'That's the spirit!' Coin was for the spending and the sharing, Gruki believed, and a fine new cloak would suit Saskia's shoulders well, if the current one she wore was anything to go by. 'I wonder if the Shimmersilk salesman is still in town? I hear his wares are... um, widely-renowned.' And expensive, thought the she-ork, leaving that part out. More than a lowly squire could afford, anyway.

A fully fledged knight on the other hand...

'I'm your favourite?' Gruki struggled to hide her surprise. 'I'm flattered, really! Only, um, maybe it's best we don't tell Roki?' Her little brother would probably take it to heart, and the last thing she wanted was to see him down in the dumps. Besides, Saskia's mind was like the winds, ever shifting. Still, she was fun to hang around. Plus, her biscuits aren't half bad. Gruki was tempted to ask for another, but... no, maybe not.

'Where'd you get the coin from, anyhow?' Gruki inquired of her friend, bumping arms, though not quite so hard as to knock her off balance. 'You been dicing with the other syrs again? You would've thought they'd have learnt their lesson by now.'
 
The Shimmersilk salesman!

Of course, it would take an entire lifetime of saving her coin to fund an entire dress made of the most captivating silks she had ever seen, and yet it would be worth her life if one day she was able to afford several yards of the shimmersilk.

"Oh, I win their coin while they are sober. Was no fun when they were several cups into their evening and they would self sabotage their cards. Additionally, I liked seeing their faces while sober of disbelief when I win fair and square in Quick Swords." Her grin was large and smug. Her favourite card game to play, one that required quick thinking and sheer chance when discarding to make way for cards to being added to their hand. Of course, Saskia was no reigning champion, but she knew how to pick her battles. "I also mend gear for those that cannot be bothered doing it themselves. A little marketing here and there, and the syrs save money by paying me."

She patted Gruki's arm, the duo continuing their walk along the road leading to Astenvale Town. The day was pristine, and she was glad to have decided to join her friend in town than go tomorrow. What if the weather had turned drastically?

"Instead of buying new trousers or travel cloaks, I can patch them up! I don't ask for much, goodness, I am no miracle worker! But I enjoy it." It meant she had time and reason to improve her skills. She was able to make her own scarves with fabrics she fancied, and make herself dresses she was yet to have reason to wear to show off her hard work.
 
'Don't let Rulgak hear you, or there'll be Hel to pay.' Chin high, the she-ork glanced sidelong at her companion, a knowing smile betraying her inner thoughts. 'Y'know, I'm still waiting for those mittens you promised me,' she teased, feet following the beaten path towards Astenvale. 'Not to rush you or anything. "Good things come to those who wait," and we've time yet before Winter rolls around.'

Eyeing the trees ahead, Gruki allowed the silence to settle between them, soft and gentle, much like the day itself.

'It's good that you enjoy it,' said the half-ork, a dozen paces later. 'Quite a useful hobby to have, really. Like fishing. Or baking.' Her mind returned to the box in Saskia's hands, and she swallowed, decided to ask with no small amount of uncertainty; 'If it's not too much to ask, could I... have another?' Blushing slightly, Gruki looked away, sure her embarrassment would be her undoing.

'I'm feeling peckish,' she confessed, patting her stomach. 'Maybe we can stop for lunch at the Bern and Barley? Albert and Friederike will be glad to see us, if'n their old man isn't too busy cracking the whip.' Old Fruman was known to be a bit of a slavedriver. Hard, but fair where it mattered. Not to mention he had the best-stocked cellar in all the township.

'Not long now till the Broofest,' she grinned. 'And as Master Hawken keeps reminding me, practise makes perfect.'
 
Saskia waggled her brows. "And you will have your mittens by then." Decreed the Shadow Knight, unhooking her arm from her friend's in order to pry the box open and unleashing the delectable scent of biscuits beneath their noses. Holding the box up in offering, Saskia continued to speak. "I do enjoy Broofest! Perhaps I should look for nice fabric for a new skirt..." And ribbons!

In the past, she had given out many ribbons to participants asking for her favour. Never one to leave anyone left out, Saskia ensured she had plenty to give out. Different colours and different textured fabrics, Saskia hand sewn them all.

"But yes, Bern and Barley! Albert owes me coin still, and I have given him a fortnight of grace." She grinned, mischief alight in her features. "Perhaps I will be nice and ask for a round of pint instead." Even if their old man was watching like a hawk, Saskia had been sure to slowly chip away at the man's strict exterior. Very few were resistant to her sunny nature, and it was always a reward to see someone warm to her. Her fellow Knights and squires had no way of escaping her. They were all the better for it.

Saskia shook the box, crumbs and biscuits singing against the wood. "Take two, there is plenty there." She had another box full safe and sound in the kitchen, labeled with a baked by Saskia note written on top of it. It was warning enough, for she knew anyone else happening upon it would not wish to take that chance of going to the infirmary.
 
'You could do,' agreed Gruki, munching on a biscuit as they walked and talked. 'Though, I probably wouldn't, after what happened last time.' Broofest was a good time - it was also a messy time. Between the spilt pints and regurgitated booze, it was no wonder Saskia's skirt had ended up the way it had. Still, nothing a good soak and scrub wouldn't fix.

'Albert owes you coin? Never expected to hear that.'

The young barkeep had the virtues of a saint. Had Saskia managed to corrupt him somehow? Dicing or shuffling decks? Maybe they'd gambled on the horse races the town held every month? Or maybe she just did him a favour? Gruki told herself, unable to see the worst in her friend, or folk in general, for that matter.

'If you're sure...' Plucking another biscuit from the box, the she-ork carried on eating, her expression turning thoughtful as the town hove into view. 'A favour for a round of pints sounds fair,' she said, nodding. 'Then, we'll have more coin left over for the markets.'

Which reminded her, she needed to consult her shopping list. Try as she might to avoid them, the other knights and squires trusted her enough to bring back certain items from the town that they just couldn't get up at the monastery.
 
"It does sound fair," she agreed with a wink, "and Albert only owes coin because I made a bet with him. He bet coin that I could not walk down the stairs blindfolded and arms straight."

And he had been sure he would win easy coin that time. Did not believe that Saskia feared very little, but after making peace with the dark, she began to trust in herself more. Did her heart stop whenever her foot found no solid ground beneath it? Or did it leap to her throat as she blindly took those steps down? It thrilled her, that she could be so alive when others faltered with fear.

"Although... I think a coffee would pair nicely with these biscuits. Or tea..." There was a drink kiosk found in the market, but with their high prices and overly decorated and sweetened mugs, perhaps it was better to get warmed milk from their friends. Saskia made a face. Warmed milk then chased with a pint? "Or... we can do that once we return back home. After all, I cannot eat the other half of biscuits on my own." She laughed.

Perhaps they needed to go on a picnic again, before the warm weather became chilled and crisp.

"Yes! Yes I think that we shall do! So," a deep inhale, "market first, and then we quench our thirst and feed our hunger at Bern and Barley. What's on your list?"
 
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