Nathyen had remained reserved in his indulgence of Eskrine's open tab,
mindful of the threats Aria had leveled against him. He had managed to procure a pair of wooden sparring swords earlier that day from a tutor who had been thoroughly confused at the prospect that the swords were for one as old as Nathyen, who already wore a
real weapon at his belt. He had taken the locksmith's gold all the same, and as Nathyen glanced into the frothy head of his second beer before him and then down to the floor where the wooden practice swords hung tied to his pack, he shoved the mug aside.
Bruises and a splitting headache, he thought.
That's what it'll earn you.
A stranger tapped his arm, and Nathyen snapped to attention, about to politely refuse whatever request or offer the stranger was about to let loose when a silver armband on the stranger's wrist caught his attention. Niowyn. His gaze followed her arm up to her face, recognizing the tribeswoman and smiling.
"Ah, still not used to you dressed like that - hopefully 'ya found some suitable replacements in the market," Nathyen said, but he could see plain in Niowyn's face she had not come to talk about her finds in the market, though doubtless she would show them all in excruciating detail along the road.
"Ahhh, it's difficult for me as well but I did find something more to my taste in the market." Niowyn responded, though her signature warming smile was absent from her face. Her blue eyes landed on the Dwarven man sitting with Nathyen at the table and she looked about the empty mugs surrounding them. "Good day to you, kin of my kin." Niowyn nodded her head at the Dwarf before she could no longer resist the devious grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. "It appears as though you have drunk my friend under the table. I hope you don't mind if I borrow him for a moment."
Erksine laughed at the black haired woman and nodded in agreement to her request. "Of course you can, my dear lady."
Aria, meanwhile, had taken leave somewhere in the midst of another hilarious anecdote from Erskine on the stunningly awkward differences in dwarven culture. Excusing herself, two mugs in hand, she made her way across the bar to find the fourth member of their ragtag crew where she had seen him a short while earlier. As she approached, she cleared her throat and holding out the froth capped draft, gave Oryn a nod, "Courtesy of a new friend. If you've got a moment, I'd like you to meet him."
The smile he had offered Aria as he saw her approaching widened as he took the mug of ale. He raised it to her but before he could thank her, she spoke. For a moment he eyed the contents of the mug and then looked back up at Aria, wondering who that new friend might be. Oryn shrugged, took a sip of the ale and nodded.
"If you can vouch for his character, I'm sure I'll like him." Reaching out to give her shoulder a squeeze he gestured with the mug and cleared his throat. "Lead the way."
Grinning lightly, Aria shook her head as she turned back to the others, "I'm not too sure you should be lookin' to me as a great judge of character, Oryn. I keep Nathyen around, you know." Giving him a wink, she led him back in time to see Niowyn approaching the table, "Ah… Perfect! Gang's all here. Successful shopping venture, I hope?" She added to the tribal woman.
"What's it 'ya needed me for, Nio?" Nathyen pondered aloud, interrupting Aria's question as he approached with a mug clutched in his hands still despite his better judgment, and for a moment his eyes drifted uneasily to the practice swords tucked beneath the table by Eskrine. "I'm sure 'yer new clothes are just as lovely as those robes 'o yours."
Niowyn looked at the locksmith blankly - she couldn't tell if he was teasing her or being serious and judging by the mug clutched in his hand, she figured he might not even be sure either. "As much as I would love to model my finds from the market. I have a more serious matter to discuss with you and everyone else."
"And I think I'll be taking this as well." She continued, as she reached for the mug of alcohol in Nathyen's hands and declared it as her own. "Shall we?" she asked, looking to Aria and Oryn before stepping away and into the corner of the tavern.
"Oh what a shame," Nathyen protested, making no move to take the mug back from Niowyn as she took her own sip from it. "So disrespectful to the…"
He fumbled for the right word for a moment, annunciating it slowly and purposefully once he found it.
"Generosity of our dwarven friend over there," he said at last. "'Twas a drink for
our bond of friendship! Aria - was Nio here part 'o that bond?"
"You'll thank her later…" Aria noted, with a sly smile as she followed Nathyen's brief glance to the practice swords, "Or maybe you won't. And you should know by now, these two…" She gestured to Oryn and Nio with her free hand, "Are always included in bonds of friendship. Particularly where celebrations are concerned."
Looking back to Erskine, she gave the dwarf a gesture to let him know they'd be back, though not entirely sure it was necessary, given he seemed well on his way to pleasant oblivion. Turning back to Nio, her expression softened to something a little less amused, "Now, what's going on? I take it you've pulled us away for something a little more important than updates on your shopping trip?"
"Right. A woman named Celothel approached me in the marketplace. She's from the Shroud, particularly from an Order of Arcanists." Niowyn began, not bothering to scold Nathyen for his remarks. She shifted the paper bag of goods in her arms before her eyes scanned the tavern for others. There were a few others in the Salty Tusk beside their group and the new Dwarven friend. And Elyssia would surely be stumbling in soon enough. One of the men sitting alone must've been the comrade Celothel mentioned. "She has a friend here in the tavern, she called him Deormund. Anyway.... she approached me because of my tribe. Apparently this Order she is part of has historical information on my people. Nathyen, do you know anything about them?"
"Ah, that I do," Nathyen said, scratching his chin as he roused his dragging mind into motion. "Back in the Shroud, well - I was part of the Locksmith's Guild. Thieves, truly - but, suppose you all already guessed as much. I worked as a page for the Guild for some time to get an understandin' of their habits and-"
One look from Niowyn told him she had no interest in what valuables the Guild might have had that were worth stealing. He cleared his throat, nodding.
"They're a strange lot. Not many 'o 'em in the Shroud, and a few wander about lookin' for relics and magic users such as yourself. I've seen mages, 'n you're not quite like any 'o most of the lost. Most know one or two spells, fewer can douse flaming walls and impale trolls with ice. Talked with a couple here 'n there, they mostly keep to 'emselves about what they do, but a fellow in the Guild used to be one 'o them. They mostly like to fuss over books 'n the like, and they try to teach the 'proper' way to do magic, but besides that that's all I know."
"Hmmm.." Niowyn looked down at her shoes for a moment, clearly processing the information before sighing heavily and giving her attention back to her comrades. "She mentioned elves and somehow… there is a link there between them and my ancestors." Niowyn looked to Aria, the young and courageous woman that Niowyn had agreed to help search for her brother. "I told you that I would help you to find your brother and I will not take back my word on that. But this woman and this Order know something about my people. I have to know what that is."
There was a long pause before Niowyn drew a breath and spoke again. It was a sensitive subject for her and an impossible choice - in one hand, she had people who had become her dear friends, people she didn't want to turn her back on, and in the other… she had her people. Her life and blood. "I'm not in this alone anymore. All of you have become a part of this and a part of me now. I would like to ask that this woman and her
bodyguard join us on the road, so that I can assess just what she knows and determine whether she is trustworthy or not before deciding about pursuing a position with the Order once we reach the Shroud.. But… I understand if you think it is too dangerous to allow them to travel with us."
Frowning lightly, Aria's gaze shifted past Nio to the man sitting alone. She recalled earlier, seeing his companion leave after spending a good portion of their conversation with their gaze on her and Erskine. She had initially thought the woman's interests were in the dwarven fellow, but now she had to wonder…
"...Blonde? Wearing a purple robe? Fairly certain I saw your young mage in the tavern a while ago. And if that's the case, her guard's still here, as well. I'm not one to tell anyone what to do, Nio, but I'd certainly be cautious of anyone knowing more about me then they've a right to know. Still… If you think you can access as much on the road with them, I don't see why we'd begrudge an extra pair of eyes and ears." Expression gentler, she reached out a hand and gently cupped Nio's forearm, "But you should know… you don't owe me anything. I can see this is important to you, and I've no intentions on taking that from you."
Niowyn smiled, returning the cupped hand on Aria's forearm. "Thank you. But you're wrong to think I don't owe you, or anyone of you, anything." She looked between her companions, her expression soft and vulnerable. "I meant it when I said all of you have become a part of me now. And I hope you know what that means."
"Yeah…" Aria offered, with a quick nod, "Pretty sure I know what you mean."
"Aye, 'n Shielders are no jesting matter either," Nathyen interjected. "Might be they're helpful - 'n if they've got wrongful intentions, I doubt she'd 'a let 'ya come back to talk to us. 'Sides, if her Shielder's still here 'n done nothin' yet, should be no problem."
"I agree with Aria." Oryn spoke up and scratched the back of his head. He didn't trust anyone that weren't in their little group. Perhaps that was for the best, but it was clear to anyone that Niowyn held a burning desire in her heart, to know more about her ancestors. Oryn couldn't bring himself to speak against that. "We'll have to be careful, but I think you're right." He looked first at Aria but then at Nathyen as well. "Both of you." He drank from his mug and then shrugged before he slapped Nathyen hard on the shoulder. "Besides, if it turns out we can't trust them, our fearless leader can beat them to death with those sticks he's carrying." He flashed the locksmith a grin.
"I'll swing for the knees, you hit 'em with that hammer," Nathyen laughed, slapping Oryn on the shoulder. "Unstoppable, see Aria? Don't need any of your lessons! I've a big,
strong man to protect me now, Hero of Hollows! Hero of… the Hollows? And his fearless aid."
"You'll need his aid, if you keep tryin' to get out of training…" Aria teased, giving Nathyen a pointed look, "But I suppose it's settled, then?" Looking to Nio, she smiled, "Your Order companions… our dwarf fellow. We're turning into a regular troupe. If anyone but Nathyen could play an instrument for its worth, we might actually be able to earn our keep to the Shroud."
Niowyn laughed as she watched Oryn and Nathyen tease back and forth. It reminded her of a pair of siblings back home. She finished off the ale in her mug, slammed it on the table next to her, and wrapped her free arm around Oryn's while looking at Nathyen with a cheesy grin. "Sorry, locksmith. But this big strong man owes me his life and I plan on using him for my own protection. You'll have to face the music and endure the abuse from Aria some more."
"Ah, I believe it's Aria that faced the music," Nathyen teased. "But if the welts are any indication, she's makin' me pay for that one."
"Won't distract me with
that memory…" Aria quipped back, with a grin, "If anything, it's half at fault for the trainin'... Just… tending to your needs like a young lady ought to, eh?"
"Ah don't pretend to be all clever stealin' my verse," Nathyen said with a laugh. "'Sides, we all know how
that tale ended, 'eh?"
"Hm. I dunno. Seemed a bit vague, if I'm honest…" With what could be nothing short of a teasing smirk, she turned back to Nio, "You'd better let your mage know she'll have an earful on our journey. Hopefully she can keep her sense about here enough to have somethin' to teach you when we get to the Shroud."
"Might be you can convince that Shielder to teach you a thing or two 'bout fightin' as well, lass," Nathyen said, brow furrowing as he searched for the man in the tavern. "Those lot are trained better 'an anyone I know, had my ass handed to me by one in the drill yards back in the Shard - used to call me his warmup."
For a moment, Aria's appearance shifted as her gaze proved briefly distant. They'd had this conversation briefly along the road - all of them. The idea of improving their skills, of challenging themselves. But for Aria it came from a complex web of uncertainty in her mind, a crippling self doubt… How close she'd come back in the Hollows… The idea of facing anyone like that again drove a wave of nausea into her stomach, but the moment passed and she nodded all the same.
"I'll consider it, certainly."
Oryn shifted his weight onto the other foot and cleared his throat. He hadn't moved away when Niowyn took his arm even though it had been his initial thought. He did his best not to look at her, but after a while he had to resist the urge to put an arm around her shoulder. Whether that was because of the ale or something else, he didn't want to think about at the moment. Instead, he focused on the conversation at hand.
"If you do get tired of fighting with sticks, should we come up against enemies that
actually want to kill you, I think I have something for you." He said, making a gesture toward Nathyen with his mug. "Found it back when we were headed for Gol Badhir." Oryn nudged Niowyn with his shoulder and continued. "We pulled it out of a pond but it looks fresh-forged." It had been a long time since he had seen the blade, but he kept it among his other belongings still. "I have no use for it. It's yours if you want it." Oryn finished and took a sip of his ale.
Growing somber, Nathyen took the sword, admiring its hilt and guard for a moment. It was finer steel than he had held in his life, save the hammer Oryn now carried. It reminded him of purchasing the sword he carried now in an alley in the Shroud - it had been a few short days after he had left the acting troupe his mother had bartered him off to in exchange for money to pay back a not insubstantial sum of gold. He had tussled with the Watch just a day before, and his nose had still been broken when he cobbled together what coin he could to pay the blacksmith.
"Aye, tell me something boy," he had said.
"You takin' that to gut someone, are 'ya? The one who did that to your face?"
Nathyen had nodded, offering the coin purse again. The smith had taken him in instead, put a roof over his head, fed him. One day he had woken up to the smith making a simple breakfast of bacon and bread, a rarity he had never seen in Maidenholm where meat was spared for no more than one or two meals a year, and sat down beside him.
"You need work," he had told him simply.
"Somethin' tells me, that coin you took to pay me wasn't 'yers.
Again Nathyen had nodded.
"So then we'll be takin' it and sendin' it back to the miners or the farmers out in the city, else it end back up in some noble's pocket. From here on, you work for me, 'eh? I'll teach 'ya what I know, keep 'ya from tusslin' with anyone else. You're too scrawny for it, it's a bad look to keep 'yer nose busted up like that."
The smith had died just barely a year later, but the sword had remained. Nathyen had never been an extraordinary thief - neither particularly graceful or quick-footed, but as he eyed his own blade in its sheath for a moment, brought back to that morning with the smell of bacon cooking atop the fire, he nodded, recalling how, perhaps unskilled as he was, never had his coin gone to waste. He turned the sword over, unsheathing it to look at the inscriptions along its edge. The gesture by Oryn spoke to him in much the say the smith's lessons had, and Nathyen looked gratefully to the larger man.
"Stonebane," he said, recalling the name Vardis had given it along their journey to Gol Badhir. "That's what Vardis had called it."
The gathering was still for a moment in remembrance of their fallen comrade.
"Thank you, Oryn."
Looking from Oryn to Nathyen again, Aria managed a small smile, "...Looks like we'll need to up your training, then. Best we get started… Unless…" Shifting, she looked to Nio, "Was there anything else?"
Niowyn retracted her arm from Oryn, giving him a curious eye before moving her attention to Nathyen. "Just one more thing actually" the tribeswoman nodded in the direction of the red headed woman walking in the door of the Salty Task. "That one there approached me in the market as well. Name's Elyssia - told me a story about her caravan being attacked and she's heading back to the Shroud. Asked if she could join us on the road and I told her I would have to confer with the lot of you."
"Seems we're a popular crew…" Aria looked over to the woman with a curious glance, "But then, we were looking for as much. But it does mean we'll need to be cautious. Of… certain things we discuss. Things we reveal." Her eyes shifted to Oryn, "A certain hammer, for instance…"
"Doubtful many'll know 'bout what the hammer is, this Oathsworn business aside entirely," Nathyen said with a shrug. "But anyone'll know what it's made of at first glance, 'n that ruby's quite a big one. All's to say, I think you're right, lass."
The locksmith paused then, stroking his beard as he eyed Niowyn with one eyebrow raised.
"Though I'll be curious to see what this…" he hesitated, mouthing the next words carefully. "Celothel can teach 'ya that 'ya don't already know, what with icicles through trolls' heads 'n those 'lil sculptures you do with water. But this Elyssia's got a story common as any in the mainland. Mountains are safe, edges of the country the safest. Out by the Shroud near the coast'll be the worst 'o it, but…"
A hand clapped the tabletop.
"That's a matter for the morrow, isn't it? So, then, we all in agreement to let this lot with us?"
"Aye… Agreed on my part." Aria nodded.
"By the time we reach the Shroud we can call ourselves a militia." Oryn said by way of agreement.
"Aye, might be you're right - Dale's Heroes, we'll call ourselves," Nathyen said with a laugh. "Right, then - on the morrow we leave."