The Corps's Headquarters

It was around five in the afternoon when a few of the patients were set to go outside for a stroll and some fresh air in the hospital’s park. However, the corps would notice that today seemed particularly lively; a small pack of yordle cubs herded by their care taker seemed quite excited to go outside, while a few wheelchair bound patients were hurriedly going to see what was up.

The reason perhaps, soon became clear that music was emanating from the park. It was certainly no great occasion whenever a few young musicians decided to volunteer to play for patients, but somehow today seemed different.

“Hurry! I heard there’s a new musician playing!”

“I heard it was a dancer!”

“Where are they from?” These were the audible lines from the hurrying patients, young and old alike, making their way outside. Given that Sona was such a wildly popular musician in Valoran, it is a wonder anybody else would try, but try they did. Music was still part of civilization, after all.

Piltover wasn’t known for its music scene, and the moderate few who played usually had day jobs as engineers, tradesmen and whathave you. However, one who investigated would eye an unusual sight- an exotic creature, fair of skin and dark of hair, wearing a rather flexible, revealing ensemble of pastel and bright colors that marked her as a gypsy. She danced barefoot and energetically to the lively violin and drums, the Piltoverian musicians playing completely new, rhythmic tunes.

In addition to dancing, she picked up a violin herself, and began dancing about the human and yordle children, livening up their hospital stay with something new and foreign... and alluring. Most of her audience were patients from the hospital, but it was clear that young Piltover men were quickly flocking to see the mysterious young woman- from her looks barely 18- who had decided to grace this humble little park with songs and dance from across Valoran. Wives were quick to peel their husbands away from the audience, and that she had an open instrument case being filled with coins would remind a few that she was basically
a street performer, playing for some loose change and maybe a few favors.

All was well and good, but as she finished she then switched to... peddling potions, remedies and snacks to the patients? Now this would elicit a reaction from the authorities, once word reached the Police Station... simply by having entered the country, this girl must have broken immigration laws and was now peddling on the street! Woe if Piltover's finest were to know...

Elenwe looked at the gathered people with a look of wonder and admiration, bowing after her performance before proceeding to sell potions. The Piltover musicians discuss among themselves the unusual diversity of their guest’s craft.

“She’s a Vagrant! Waltzing around in this neighbourhood! Report her to the Police!” A rather harsh old woman said, though her equally aging husband didn’t seem to mind.

The old lady noticed the medics and raises her walking cane at them. “Call the police! She’s making a mess in our city! She’s not even wearing shoes! And look at what she’s wearing! Isn’t there a law against that!? ” Actually it was an entertainer's outfit, and even the local dance studios wear something similar to public events.

Spooks looked at the medics who spoke to her, giving them a smile. It seemed she didn’t really care about such small things. “But... the local musicians said they were playing for the sick... and I have remedies for ailments of body... and spirit.” She explained, holding up a potion like she was trying to sell it to the medics.

“I simply wished to bring a little color into their lives... officers?” She shrugged her shoulders, still innocent- oblivious to the laws she’s definitely broken. The people who gathered seemed divided in their opinion and didn’t voice their stand on the issue. A yordle pup came over and bought some candied apple slices from her while she spoke.

Spooks glanced over at the money she made from music playing and sales. Sadly, it wasn't enough- for her anyway. She sighed, promptly heading over to pack her things.

Eventually, someone did call the Piltover Police and a pair of officers were now coming by. Spooks simply kept speaking with the medics.

She looked at the medics with soulful, pity-able eyes, as she stood there with her backpack and suspiciously large box with mystery content. "I have no place to stay though... and I have been on the road for quite awhile now... can I please stay somewhere? I haven't enough for a stay an inn." She said, with a cheeky smile. She meant didn't have enough for the Piltover Delux, maybe...

“You are the first to show me hospitality! Thank you, kind sirs. I am in your gratitude. May I know your names? I am Elenwe Tray’neth, of the Vardos Zarovia- the great travelling caravan of entertainers... I am travelling across Valoran by myself now.” She curtsied as she introduced herself, gracefully and with pose.

She followed their lead and went inside, amazed at the large structure. She had not been inside many buildings in her life.
“So... is this your home? Why do you live with sick? Are you some sort of healers? Why do you not go to their homes then?” She was quite talkative, that was for sure, and curious too. Her head went left and right and ooh’d and ah’d at the most mundane things in a hospital... like an IV stand.

“This is such a large place! Surely many more could dwell here...” She remarked off-handily, now moving on her own. She seemed quite the hit with yordle children and yordles in general, and a few pets; she cooed at a middle aged woman’s pet cat, and picking out a flower from a vase. All while drawing... attention to herself and the medics.

And yet somehow she knew exactly where to go, faultlessly identifying a free room. “Ah! A private bath! Oh my, such luxury!” She quickly sets her bag and instrument on the table.
She quickly found her hosts, as though knowing where they were.

“Please, let me repay this kindness of yours by cooking supper! Then, entertainment! Perhaps you wish to see a dance? Or hear a song, or a tale? You will not be disappointed!”

Spooks disapproved of the male presence in her room. She was whimsical and exotic, but she was still a lady and disliked the notion of a man waiting on her.
“Excuse me as I take advantage of your hospitality.” She said with a wink, and closed the bathroom door behind her. She had brought with her a small bag of elixirs and oils, and that translated into roughly a forty minute bath as Wynn was left to his own devices in the room.

If Wynn were the curious sort, her backpack and contained quite the variety of mundane and exotic items expected of a young adventurer on the road. It contained clothes, food, herbs, and trinkets. Moreover though, there was a leather bound journal with a lock, a gnarled walking stick made of darkened ash wood, and a sheathed sword. The sword in its sheathe was cold to the touch, and looking at the blade itself would reveal frejlordian runes and wolf engravings. A curious weapon for a travelling minstrel or potion maker or whatever she was.

Once the witch had finished her long bath, she emerged in a knee-length dark blue night gown, her long hair now relived of its bands and braids, a straight and wavy, rich mane of black hair, with a hint of shine to it. She was very quick to feel at home it seemed, which made her seem sweet, innocent, or very suspicious.

“So! Shall we go and prepare dinner?” She said, opening the door and awaiting Wynn’s response.

“Now why would I go and make trouble for my hosts?” Spooks asked, feeling slightly hurt that they’d think so. From her large backpack she retrieved a small pouch of special herbs, each spice wrapped individually in banana leaf in a dry pulpy form. She placed her sword against the wall, its chilling aura likely to ruin the dry goods. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind her having a weapon- a young adventurer must be able to defend herself, after all.

She walked with a spring in her step, barefoot as usual, now relieved of her many jewels and trinkets. For one of the gypsies, she had lighter skin, though parts of her bore small tattoos on her arm and ankles. As she didn’t so much as follow Wynn as headed directly to their destination without asking where it was.

Once at the mess hall’s large kitchen, she peered about the headquarters with clairvoyance, and counted the members of the corps.

It was almost startling, to those who’d notice such things, that she moved through the kitchen as though she already knew where everything was. She would, since she can see clearly what each cabinet held. Coupled with her chatty demeanor, one would think she’d worked here for years.

She fetched a large cauldron and filled it part way with water. She got a fire going with two pieces flint, and assembled some vegetables and meat, in suspiciously enough quantity to feed the corps. As she began slicing, dicing and other such tasks, she requested Wynn to assist with the menial labor of cooking, as she began sprinkling the meat with spice. The chatty young Witch began asking the questions; loads of questions.

“So tell me about yourself, mister Wynn! Who are you? Where are you from? What do you do? How did you come to be in the medics? Do you have interests in the arts or music? Do you have a lover? Ooh...! Do you dance or write? Do you think they’ll like stew? I want you all to try this recipe I’m making. Now, what story should I tell you after supper...?” and she went on with a few more mundane questions, mostly wanting to know about the person she was with at the moment, as well as the dish she prepared. The spices filled the kitchen with an unusually brisk aroma, and the stew itself was beginning to give off a nice fragrance.

She fetched milk from the cold storage in the back. By now, one would really notice that she never asked questions about where things were or directions to take, like she knew the place in and out!

Spooks displayed quite the shock at the policy Wynn explained. She never heard of such a thing! Inns and taverns were more than happy to shelter her in exchange for a night of kitchen duty! “So... I am cooking for my hosts, and they charge me? Well, that hardly makes sense. You don’t quite understand the concept of hospitality here then! Tsk tsk.”

She also listened as Wynn disclosed next to no information about himself. She was quite disappointed; the young man didn’t even seem to want to make a guess as to what his fellows would enjoy.

Regardless, the stew was prepared and it smelled quite delightful. Once the other medics came in, Spooks brought the pot to beside the table in the mess hall, setting out bowls and utensils, serving everyone the hearty, creamy stew. It had a reddish and greenish coloration to it, hinting spiciness and herbal coolness at once- a very interesting experience in addition to superb taste.

“Please enjoy the dish I’ve prepared. It is a recipe I learned from my aunt. She says it is a Noxian recipe, but they no longer make it there. So, as to pay back the... hospitality...” she lingered on that word. "...of my fine Piltover hosts, I am willing to share a song, a dance or a tale from the road. We of the Vardos Zarovia know a thousand and one tales; What would be your pleasure then?" She asked, looking at the medics with a bright smile.