Nathania is sitting at the Wayhouse, knitting, as is par for the course. She's got on a warm sweater in a buttery yellow, a white tee underneath, dark wash blue jeans, and her bare feet rest on the carpet. She has her boots in the mudroom, and she's just chillin' for the moment, listening to the Chainsmokers on her phone with attached speakers. She sings along quietly, voice pleasant.
Having been reliably informed that this is the place to make contact with the Freehold's Lost, Duncan strides into the Wayhouse and starts to poke around for the locals. The Elemental is dressed in some once-nice clothes that have seen better days -- a frayed gray dress shirt, faded jeans, brown walking shoes, and a black pea coat. The singing catches his ear and draws him into the room where Nathania is knitting, and his entrance is likely difficult to miss, as he all but bursts into the room. His first impression of the ragdoll is a look of 'awwwwwww,' but the scope of the woman's transformation, not to mention the strength of her mantle, has an immediate sobering effect. Duncan halts just inside the room and clears his throat, just in case she didn't notice him somehow. "Sorry. I'm looking for someone from the local establishment?"
Nathania noticed. She looks up at him with a gentle smile. "Yes. Hello," she says in a slow, hesitant little voice, pretty to listen to but unremarkable save for the stammer she displays. "I'm... a Waykeeper. We help... you connect with... the local... Monarch if you want... to pledge... to the Fate's Harvest... freehold." She nods, once, and watches him, knitting still. "My name is... Nathania Winters, of Winter. Bishop of Blackbirds."
Ducan cocks his head at the sound of Nathania's voice, but his only reaction to the stammer is to listen patiently. Then he grins broadly when she provides most of what he wanted to know, right up front. "Straight to the point." Somethine he appreciates. "Duncan Morrow," he introduces himself. "Nice to meet you." The greeting seems friendly enough, though the man doesn't step any closer. "I'm in the area for a couple of months. Wanted to check in with the locals. Find out how things work here. Sounds like you're the right one to ask?"
Nathania nods at him. "Yep." She smiles, then, brighter. "Have a seat, if you'd.. like. We have... a kitchen if you're... hungry." She sets her knitting aside and turns the music off, tilting her head at him. "ASk anything... you need to know. I'll answer... what I can."
There's a laugh for the offered food, as if the idea of eating were funny, and then Duncan shakes his head. "Thank you, but I'm good." He drifts over closer to where Nathania is and drops down into a chair, exhaling a long breath. "I'm thinking of joining," the Elemental says straight up. "I hear Fate's Harvest is fairly new. How do things work? Are you guys seasonal? Pledge to the crown and all that?" He grins. "Trying to get an idea of what I'd be signing up for. So whatever you can tell me that's not a state secret."
Nathania nods thoughtfully, grinning at his laughter even though it's mildly confusing to her. "We're Seasonal, yeah. And you... do pledge... to the Crown." She considers him for a moment. "Do you want... to hear the Laws?" she asks.
Even sitting down, Duncan doesn't seem to be entirely at rest. Some part of him is moving, be it a tapping toe or fingers drumming on the arm of the chair. The first bit of Nathania's reply is good news. Familiar ground. But the bit about laws draws an exaggerated groan from the Elemental. "I better hear the fine print, yeah. Better safe than sorry."
Nathania grins at him. "Better safe," she agrees, and slowly, patiently, lists them, explaining them at length where she feels it necessary or where he looks even mildly confused.
Duncan make an effort to follow along, and the questions he asks show he's getting the gist of it, but it's clear he doesn't have a lot of patience for the details. He tries to shortcut sections where he doesn't have an obvious interest, such as the selection and duties of crown and council, but is keen on the lay member's duties and the wording of the oath. The death sanction is met with a grim scowl, and a slow shake of his head. "Jesus. You guys don't mess around. How does that work? I don't want to sign up to die because I wore white after labor day, eh?"
"That can be... commuted to simply... Banishment, you see." Nathania nods at him. "Apologize.. to the Crown. That's all. They may... decide to commute your... sentence."
"But the Crown can still call you dead," Duncan points out. "If you break even one of the laws. Pardon my French, but that seems pretty fucking harsh." Despite the protest, the man still looks to be thinking it over. "I'd like to talk with your Monarch before I swear. To get an idea of who would be passing sentence." Realizing the way he's phrased that, the Elemental laughs and clarifies, "Not that I'm planning to break any of the laws, but that's a right big risk."
Nathania raises an eyebrow. "I can ask the Monarch... to speak with you, but that's.. highly irregular." A shrug. "Whatever... floats your boat, though. I can send her... a message now." And she grabs her phone, unplugging it from the speakers.
Duncan just grins at making an 'irregular' request. "Sorry to be a pain. And thank you. I appreciate it." He slumps back in his chair and stretches his legs out in front of him, hands clasped behind his head. It looks like he's content to wait for an answer. "So ... anything I should know about the area, in general? Rather not step on any toes while I'm here, regardless."
Nathania shrugs. She explains some of the local customs, like staying off the East Bank of the Tam River in Tamarack Falls. She gets a response partway through. "Please... leave your number... with me," she requests. "The Monarch... may be... in touch." Then she continues her explanations.
Duncan listens attentively, nodding or giving a grunt from time to time. Then he grins again when asked to leave a number. "Good deal." The Elemental rattles off his cell phone number, the area code indicating a northeastern Massachusetts origin. "So if I decide to join, it's just the pledge and that's it? No twenty questions?"
Nathania shrugs. "I should. Especially... with oyu wanting... to see... the Monarch... before pledging." She considers him.
"Pledging your life is some pretty heavy collateral," Duncan says in agreement, and he sits up straight again. Noting Nathania considering him, the man grins back at her, unconcerned. "You mind if I ask you a personal question?"
"I reserve... the right.. not to answer, but go for... it," Nathania says with a smile.
Another hearty laugh rings in answer, but Duncan seems to approve. "Fair enough." Then he tips his head toward the ragdoll, still grinning. "Are you the Winter Queen apparent around here? Might save us both some time if we could talk about what next season might be like."
Nathania gets another response from her phone, and looks down, startled, at the message. "The Monarch... will catch you," she says, before looking up. And then she -laughs-. "Good gravy, no. I'm not. No one... wants me in charge... of anything. Second... in command, maybe. But in... charge? Goodness gracious, -no-."
"Good. Good," Duncan doesn't seem surprised to have the Monarch agree to talk to him, but then he doesn't have much in the way of expectations for the Freehold or it's standard procedure. Thin his grin broadens when he hears Nathania's laughter, and he chuckles in turn when she gives her reply. "Now /that/ has to be high on the list of 'things a Winter would say.' You look like you've been around a good while. So I was taking a shot in the dark."
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