ARC 6-Winter War-07
“Huh? Are we the last ones?”
I turn on my stool as the door opens once again, the largest group yet coming through. Two guilds comprise it if I have to guess, based on the differences in their attire.
Of the five, three wear crimson robes over their clothes, reminding me of the casters from the Hall. If the analogy holds true, that’d make them fire casters. The oldest of them, a man with salt and pepper hair and friendly dark eyes, carries a book on his hip, the mark of a serious caster.
The other two are an odd pair. One is clearly a swordsman with his chest plate, armored boots, and sword on his hip. He carries a helmet under his arm, his tousled dark hair showing it’d just recently been removed.
Beside him is a woman, judging from her curves. Everything else is hidden by a dark cloak, including a large hood that hides her face.
“Is that Bearskin?” the warrior calls out. He crosses the room with a smile, slapping the man on the shoulder. “Didn’t know you were joining the campaign this time around. Might have to wear a shirt up there.”
“Merven.” Bearskin shakes his hand, quite strongly from the wince on the swordsman’s face. “I won’t be joining. They needed a squad captain here to sign this agreement without causing a scene.”
“Suppose you’re the most reasonable of the lot.”
“You are welcome to share a drink with us but you should speak with the young miss.” He nods in my direction. “Seems to be in charge tonight.”
“Her? I mean, not to imply anything but asking a young woman to control that Kimble bastard—”
“I am here to provide force if needed but I don’t think it will be necessary. She’s stronger than she looks.”
What a gentleman. Funny the man wearing an animal skin has more manners than the man in a nice vest. Heeding the words of his friend, Merven the swordsman makes his way to me, his companion meeting him. Across the room, the older caster seats his compatriots at a table before approaching.
Time to do more work.
“Evening everyone,” I greet. “Lourianne Tome. Friend of the owner and hired help. Here to keep things orderly tonight.”
“Good to meet you, Lady Tome!” The swordsman greets me with the energy of someone half his age. “Merven, just Merven. No last name, common as they come. Here to represent One For All. Ah, this is Daisy. She’ll be leading the group headed north.” The woman nods.
“And I am William Cordotta.” The red-robed caster bows with a hand on his chest. “William is fine. Cordy is better. That’s what all the young ones call me.” His smile is free and kind. “Here to represent the Torchbearers. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Tome.”
“Same, same. Lou is fine.” Great, doesn’t look like this group will be any trouble. “Howie.”
“Already with you, Lou.” He sets three mugs on the counter and I pass them out.
“How come you’re in charge of things?” Merven asks as he takes his. “No offense, I mean, uh.”
He trails off as I chuckle. “Relax. It’s a good question. Howie asked me here to keep you all respectable because I’m fairly confident I can kick all your asses.” And if I can’t, Geneva who has gone unnoticed in a corner of the room certainly can.
My declaration is met with silence.
Merven breaks it by laughing uproariously, sloshing Herbanacle over the side of his mug. “Ahaha, that’s great! I take it you’re a caster? From the Hall? I know all the notable guildies, I think.”
“You got it.” Should probably keep it to myself that I’m not even a first-year acolyte.
“Affinity?”
“That’d be telling.”
“Ha! Well, it’ll keep things interesting. When all this stuffy stuff is over, we can have a match. Always looking for a good sparring partner.”
“Only person I spar with is my wife.”
“…what?”
“Good to see things will be taken in a firm hand,” Cordy says. He raises his mug toward Howie. “A bottle and two more mugs, my good man. Lady Tome. Merven. Daisy.” He nods to each of us before walking back to his table.
The still confused Merven is taken by the arm and dragged off by his companion.
“Pleasant people,” I say as I turn around.
“I recognize them,” Alana mutters, watching them from the corner of her eye. “Their guilds, not them. Especially One For All. It’s nothing official but they’re considered the number one guild in the kingdom. They take in everyone who wants to fight and trains them on credit. Their hunters work for the guild until their debts are paid. Then they’re free to do as they like.”
She stares into her mug pensively. “When I was young, I thought I might join them. Leave Victory for good. Train as a hunter before joining one of the orders in the capital. But then my affinity was tested and my father welcomed me into his house.”
Is it just me or does she sound bitter when she says that? More bitter than usual. “And the other one? The, uh—”
“The Torchbearers? They’re similar to One For All but they do prefer recruits with the fire and wind affinities. They’re known for producing competent casters that specialize in monster hunting. Good reputation among the people as they will travel to all corners of the kingdom and work for prices even the smallest villages can afford.”
“Saints in training.”
Alana smiles. “I considered joining them if I had a fire affinity.”
Of course you did. “Howie, who are the last ones we’re waiting for?”
“You should know them,” the brewer says while handing over a tray to his barmaid. “The idiots who you stole from.”
“Stole?”
I hold up a hand to forestall Alana’s lecture. “Before you get the wrong idea, the sword was a spoil of war.”
The look he gives me is droll. “War?”
“Battle. Okay, it wasn’t much of a fight. They attacked us and I may have taken one of their swords as compensation for the trouble. As a gift for Kierra. You know she likes weapons.”
Alana sighs. “Should have guessed.”
“No, no. It wasn’t her usual love of violence. These people deserved it.”
“Real assholes,” Howie continued. “They’re the reason Lou is here. More than once, they tried to muscle me into working for them. Don’t believe that weasel that proposed this whole mess for a moment. If they don’t get the terms they like, I bet they throw me in a bag and carry me off. I know how those types work.”
“I still don’t remember their name.”
“You don’t remember the name of the group you assaulted and stole from?” Alana asks in disbelief.
“It’s not my fault! We only interacted for a few minutes and they weren’t very memorable.”
“You’re not making this sound better!”
The door opening again interrupts her before she can get going. The last representative of the guilds arrives. Alone, interestingly enough. I vaguely recognize his sun-tanned skin and dirty blond hair as belonging to the man who started this whole affair.
He pauses just inside the doorway, scanning the room. “Everyone’s arrived, good. We can get straight to business.”
ARC 6-Winter War-07
“Huh? Are we the last ones?”
I turn on my stool as the door opens once again, the largest group yet coming through. Two guilds comprise it if I have to guess, based on the differences in their attire.
Of the five, three wear crimson robes over their clothes, reminding me of the casters from the Hall. If the analogy holds true, that’d make them fire casters. The oldest of them, a man with salt and pepper hair and friendly dark eyes, carries a book on his hip, the mark of a serious caster.
The other two are an odd pair. One is clearly a swordsman with his chest plate, armored boots, and sword on his hip. He carries a helmet under his arm, his tousled dark hair showing it’d just recently been removed.
Beside him is a woman, judging from her curves. Everything else is hidden by a dark cloak, including a large hood that hides her face.
“Is that Bearskin?” the warrior calls out. He crosses the room with a smile, slapping the man on the shoulder. “Didn’t know you were joining the campaign this time around. Might have to wear a shirt up there.”
“Merven.” Bearskin shakes his hand, quite strongly from the wince on the swordsman’s face. “I won’t be joining. They needed a squad captain here to sign this agreement without causing a scene.”
“Suppose you’re the most reasonable of the lot.”
“You are welcome to share a drink with us but you should speak with the young miss.” He nods in my direction. “Seems to be in charge tonight.”
“Her? I mean, not to imply anything but asking a young woman to control that Kimble bastard—”
“I am here to provide force if needed but I don’t think it will be necessary. She’s stronger than she looks.”
What a gentleman. Funny the man wearing an animal skin has more manners than the man in a nice vest. Heeding the words of his friend, Merven the swordsman makes his way to me, his companion meeting him. Across the room, the older caster seats his compatriots at a table before approaching.
Time to do more work.
“Evening everyone,” I greet. “Lourianne Tome. Friend of the owner and hired help. Here to keep things orderly tonight.”
“Good to meet you, Lady Tome!” The swordsman greets me with the energy of someone half his age. “Merven, just Merven. No last name, common as they come. Here to represent One For All. Ah, this is Daisy. She’ll be leading the group headed north.” The woman nods.
“And I am William Cordotta.” The red-robed caster bows with a hand on his chest. “William is fine. Cordy is better. That’s what all the young ones call me.” His smile is free and kind. “Here to represent the Torchbearers. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Tome.”
“Same, same. Lou is fine.” Great, doesn’t look like this group will be any trouble. “Howie.”
“Already with you, Lou.” He sets three mugs on the counter and I pass them out.
“How come you’re in charge of things?” Merven asks as he takes his. “No offense, I mean, uh.”
He trails off as I chuckle. “Relax. It’s a good question. Howie asked me here to keep you all respectable because I’m fairly confident I can kick all your asses.” And if I can’t, Geneva who has gone unnoticed in a corner of the room certainly can.
My declaration is met with silence.
Merven breaks it by laughing uproariously, sloshing Herbanacle over the side of his mug. “Ahaha, that’s great! I take it you’re a caster? From the Hall? I know all the notable guildies, I think.”
“You got it.” Should probably keep it to myself that I’m not even a first-year acolyte.
“Affinity?”
“That’d be telling.”
“Ha! Well, it’ll keep things interesting. When all this stuffy stuff is over, we can have a match. Always looking for a good sparring partner.”
“Only person I spar with is my wife.”
“…what?”
“Good to see things will be taken in a firm hand,” Cordy says. He raises his mug toward Howie. “A bottle and two more mugs, my good man. Lady Tome. Merven. Daisy.” He nods to each of us before walking back to his table.
The still confused Merven is taken by the arm and dragged off by his companion.
“Pleasant people,” I say as I turn around.
“I recognize them,” Alana mutters, watching them from the corner of her eye. “Their guilds, not them. Especially One For All. It’s nothing official but they’re considered the number one guild in the kingdom. They take in everyone who wants to fight and trains them on credit. Their hunters work for the guild until their debts are paid. Then they’re free to do as they like.”
She stares into her mug pensively. “When I was young, I thought I might join them. Leave Victory for good. Train as a hunter before joining one of the orders in the capital. But then my affinity was tested and my father welcomed me into his house.”
Is it just me or does she sound bitter when she says that? More bitter than usual. “And the other one? The, uh—”
“The Torchbearers? They’re similar to One For All but they do prefer recruits with the fire and wind affinities. They’re known for producing competent casters that specialize in monster hunting. Good reputation among the people as they will travel to all corners of the kingdom and work for prices even the smallest villages can afford.”
“Saints in training.”
Alana smiles. “I considered joining them if I had a fire affinity.”
Of course you did. “Howie, who are the last ones we’re waiting for?”
“You should know them,” the brewer says while handing over a tray to his barmaid. “The idiots who you stole from.”
“Stole?”
I hold up a hand to forestall Alana’s lecture. “Before you get the wrong idea, the sword was a spoil of war.”
The look he gives me is droll. “War?”
“Battle. Okay, it wasn’t much of a fight. They attacked us and I may have taken one of their swords as compensation for the trouble. As a gift for Kierra. You know she likes weapons.”
Alana sighs. “Should have guessed.”
“No, no. It wasn’t her usual love of violence. These people deserved it.”
“Real assholes,” Howie continued. “They’re the reason Lou is here. More than once, they tried to muscle me into working for them. Don’t believe that weasel that proposed this whole mess for a moment. If they don’t get the terms they like, I bet they throw me in a bag and carry me off. I know how those types work.”
“I still don’t remember their name.”
“You don’t remember the name of the group you assaulted and stole from?” Alana asks in disbelief.
“It’s not my fault! We only interacted for a few minutes and they weren’t very memorable.”
“You’re not making this sound better!”
The door opening again interrupts her before she can get going. The last representative of the guilds arrives. Alone, interestingly enough. I vaguely recognize his sun-tanned skin and dirty blond hair as belonging to the man who started this whole affair.
He pauses just inside the doorway, scanning the room. “Everyone’s arrived, good. We can get straight to business.”
