[Story] Korbas

[[ My RP buddy and I did a prompt thing we saw to create two characters blind and then make them meet. It was pretty fun! ]]

Korbas Whitehall brought the horses their oats, setting the bucket down between them. He’d already removed their tack and would need to brush them out before putting them into the stable. It was cold enough tonight that they’d want blankets, too.

“Excuse me,” someone said behind him. It wasn’t Lord Bradford, nor any of his guests. The girl with the muddy boots and thick glasses looked decidedly out of place here. She held a piece of paper out toward him. “There’s a bake sale at the Cathedral this weekend. The proceeds go to the orphans.” Korbas took the paper and studied it for a moment. He knew of the bake sales; they had them four times a year or so, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing this person at the Cathedral despite visiting every week — sometimes more than once.

He picked up the brush and began to brush the dirt and sweat from Snowfoot, the paint horse. Due to his quiet nature, he was usually ridden by ladies or children. The girl looked him over admiringly. “They’re lovely animals, aren’t they? I wish I knew how to ride.”

Snowfoot ducked his head into the bucket of oats, and Korbas regarded the stranger over his back. “Don’t you? It’s not difficult really. Horses are expensive to feed and keep though.” He considered, then discarded, the idea of offering to let her take Snowfoot around the ring. For one thing, he’d already been untacked, and for another he wouldn’t want to explain to Lord Bradford why a stranger was on his horse. She explained that she didn’t have a horse, she’d hired a wagon to come all the way from Stormwind.

Korbas frowned. That was a long way to be sending someone out to pass out flyers, and the daylight was already nearly gone, being winter. The roads weren’t safe to travel at night due to bandits, especially for a young woman alone. The girl said that she did in fact work at the Cathedral, but usually in the library downstairs or fetching supplies. She’d been there since the dragon had attacked the city, but she still wasn’t assisting with services due to some scandal — the woman who had been her previous teacher was found to be associated with cultists. Still, it wasn’t her crime, and the woman hadn’t even been related. It seemed unfair to be punished for the deeds of others. Korbas was sure the Cathedral in Lordaeron hadn’t been like that. His mother would never have stood for it.

She did say that she was allowed to take out books, but had trouble reading them due to the small print. He probably shouldn’t have, but Korbas offered to help read them. He usually had time in the evenings, after supper and before nightfall. Did he live in Stormwind? She wanted to know. Lord Bradford’s estate was in the northern part of the city, large enough to keep horses and a few other animals to give it the pastoral appearance, though he rarely used them for anything other than decoration. They were here in the countryside this evening for a hunt, though it was winter and there was few game on the ground. Hunts were really an excuse to socialize and ride, which Korbas could certainly understand. Admittedly he enjoyed them too, giving his horse the freedom to run and carry him over the fields and streams. Though he’d lived in cities all of his life, he could see the appeal that the country held.

Maybe the church expected her to walk back alone at night, but Korbas wouldn’t stand for it. He dropped some coins into her palm and told her to get a room at the inn. She could ride back in the morning with the rest of Lord Bradford’s party, who would be both numerous and armed. There were a few extra coins for the orphans, as well. She studied the coins and seemed to consider it for a long time, before she finally agreed. Korbas suspected it was his mention of the free breakfast in the morning that was the deciding factor.

She paused as she headed toward the inn. “Don’t forget the bake sale,” she said.

“I won’t.”

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