RP:Help Is Always In The Last Place You'd Expect It

This is a Warrior's Guild RP.

Part of the The Day I Tried To Live Arc

Summary: Meri happens upon Khitti, and Rorin joins the women to discuss the goings-on with Amarrah, the Plane of Shadow, and the dangers both present. Things do not turn out as Khitti expects as she manages to get at least one recruit for the next journey to the Shadowfell and the other is a possibility. Also, Brand shows up and scares the hell out of Meri. Khitti stares at him with a dreamy look in her eyes. It's kind of cute, tbh.

Frostmaw Tavern

Khitti was in her chosen spot near the back of the tavern, near the steps that lead to the rented rooms above. Gone were the blue dragonscales that typically adorned her form, the armor left upstairs in favor of something more comfort: a knee-length Kreekitaka-made black dress that seemed to reflect no light whatsoever, despite being in a well-lit building, and a pair of worn black boots. A book was in hand and a cup of hot cocoa gone untouched and now cold. Tired she was, as she had been since they returned from the Plane of Shadow, dark circles around equally dark emerald eyes. Around Khitti sat not a single patron; whispers and rumors had made their way around Frostmaw and it showed as a wide, empty arc surrounded the redhead, the rest of the citizens in the tavern keeping their distance from her. It’d been this way for many weeks now, and she tried to not let it bother her, tried to not let it show. Conceal, don’t feel, and all that jazz, you know. Not an ounce of that book had read though since she’d come downstairs. She’d been trying to give Dominic and Brand the opportunity to sleep in peace without all of her worried pacing, but it didn’t help -her- at all. Even now, in her presence, there were whispers as the patrons occasionally looked her way, turned their heads the moment she caught their gaze. Khitti flipped the unread page, feigning the studying she had been doing with that book, but of course, nothing was commit to memory.

Meri shoulders open the door of the tavern and makes her way inside, pausing at the entrance to give her feet a few stomps to shake of the snow stuck to her boots, a bit of foul language to accompany that. Damn snow. The hood of her fur-lined cloak is pushed back now that she was in the warmth of the tavern, cheeks flushed from the cold outside. Outside of that the bulk of her attire is hidden beneath her cloak, which Meri perhaps will remove once she settles into a seat of her own. Where to sit? Booted fit carry her further into the establishment as blue eyes glance around the many faces, Khitti was observed as was the way the rest of the patrons seemed to shun, avoid and gossip about her. Meri had heard a few things about this woman, very few things, but face was the only familiar face in the building and so her course ultimately steers over to the woman. "Hey," she greets the woman once she is close enough to not need to raise her voice in volume. "Khitti isn't it? I've seen you around a couple of times." Most notably that last meeting, but Meri does not seem to have formed judgments on what she has witnessed. A gloved hand slips out from beneath her cloak, offering to the woman as one traditionally does during introductions. "Meri."

Rorin sat among friends and brothers at a table fit for the small rabble near the fire. He clinked his mug of ale yet again and sat smiling and laughing for the first time in months. He was with soldiers, some Catalian, some Warriors, less than ten altogether, of various rank and file. Rorin himself looked quite at home in a black coat with battle patches from the three battalions, an actual eyepatch over his right, and a belt of weapons about his hips. His hands were thickly gloved and arms sleeved despite the warmth though it hadn't stopped him from getting a good poker hand. "Full house" he said as he laid his cards out to both cries and desperation. A three course meal afforded by scrounged soldiers pay took the middle of the table and the cause for celebration seemed to be Rorin’s acceptance back into the fold after his injuries. It had left him with a strange streak of bluish white that parted the right of his otherwise black newly cropped hair and a scar of matching color that struck wildly down the same side of his face. Regardless he seemed well at ease having the first night out with comrades inside these past few weeks. Despite the recent attacks and everything that had piled against them these soldiers were still human. Rorin was still just a 17 year old boy trying to live instead of just stay alive.

Khitti had definitely noticed Rorin’s existence amongst the crowd that was so far out of reach for Khitti, but like any outsider would, she chose to stay far away from the male. She was probably in about as good of standing as Eirik within the guild right now, at least it seemed that way to her despite Lionel constantly backing her up, and decided it was best to leave the kid be. The thirty year old female had watched Meri’s approach from the corner of her eye, blinking once or twice once she’d introduced herself. Khitti’s hesitant for the moment, but she’d soon take up Meri’s hand, giving it a bit of a shake, “Yeah, it’s Khitti. It’s, erm, nice to meet you.” The vampiress pauses, motioning to the other side of her booth with the same hand once it was retracted from Meri’s personal space. “I’m sorry about zhe vay zhings vent zhe other day vith zhe guild. It’s not always like zhat.” A beat. “Ve’ll okay...it’s mostly like zhat. It’s just been...stressful lately.”

Meri additionally had noticed Rorin and that game of cards he was participating in -- such a thing could not entirely escape Meri's note. It's not that Meri was trying to ignore Rorin or anything, it was just that...Well Khitti looked like she could use someone to keep her company, if the fact that someone is talking to Khitti doesn't send the hens into a bit of a gossiping titter. "Nice to meet you too," Meri echoes. Once her gloved hand is freed she waves to Rorin from a distance and does call out to him, from across the room. She had done well enough to not do this with Khitti but sometimes Meri's manners escape her, "Hey." Back to Khitti blue eyes goes, a half-smile pulling at her red lips, "I don't see why -you- need to be apologizing to me. But since you bring that up..." It was what it was, as far as Meri was concerned. The very same gloved hand that she was using to wave to Rorin drops and gestures to a chair across from Khitti, "Do you mind if I have a seat?" The back of the chair is grabbed preemptively, like she wasn't really expecting to get a no from the woman.

Rorin itched. It was somewhere in that dead eye that he could feel it. People were watching him. Darkness there in the corner. His left eye, that crystalline grey orb, sighted her: Khitti sat out from the familiar wood of the tavern despite her best efforts but perhaps that was just to him. Someone approached her. Rorin excused himself with the utmost politeness and the rag tag band of crest bearers carried on without him. He snagged a bottle of sweet wine from the barkeep and headed over to that lonely old corner. Of course he stood out as he approached, how couldn't he? "I'm not sure exactly why I haven't yet," he would start, "but I feel like I should be buying you as many drinks as I can. I think Lionel would awkwardly try to say he's not good at these things here, but I'm sure we can skip that." He would say it with a warm smile to the vampiress before apologizing to Meri, "not that I mean to intrude," he would add.

Right. The holy magic thing. The whole getting burnt alive. Khitti’d actually forgotten about that. Funny how things shift from one thing to another so quickly around here. She’d offer a faint smile and nod of her head to Meri, in answer to her inquiry of sitting, before addressing Rorin, “It’s fine, Rorin. It’s done and over vith and far into zhe past.” Suddenly the Dhavislaavian wished there were other aspects of her life that would do the same thing, but not yet, the time hadn’t come just yet to get rid of Amarrah. Pushing the thought away, she shifts her gaze back towards Meri. “It’s an apology on behalf of zhe guild as a whole. Zhey mean vell, I know...even Eirik, but zhey forget zhe image ve’re supposed to be projecting to zhe rest of the realm. You might be friends vith some of zhe members, but you’re still an outsider in terms of zhe guild itself, and zhat whole meeting vas bad form on our part. I honestly can’t imagine vhy you’d even vant to join up vith us again after zhat debacle.” She pauses with a sigh, looking across the tavern, watching as the other patrons -did- get a bit riled thanks to both Meri and Rorin joining Khitti. “I’m not trying to chase you away zhough; my zhoughts aren’t always optimistic. Ve certainly need your help. I’m glad you vere able to help Brand and zhat dragon vith zhe cave-in in zhe desert.”

Meri actually had a little bit of a spiel to give to Khitti, but that was temporarily reconsidered when Rorin approaches. Not that Meri minded Rorin's approach, she had no qualm with the man at all, her concern was speaking to openly and risking embarrassing Khitti. The chair is pulled out and Meri slides out of her cloak once she is seated, letting it rest over the chair (it also serves as a bit of a blanket -- look she is not from this cold climate and will never adjust). Even out of her cloak Meri was fairly well bundled up, favoring sweater over bodice, tattooed fairly well covered. Rorin is addressed first, "Intrude? Naw, the more the merrier is usually my stance." Khitti speaks so openly about the situation at the warrior's meeting that it puts any concerns of embarrassment Meri might have to rest. "Right, well, I am sure it is obvious to you that Eirik is one of my friends. I guess some might stand to reason that as friends he and I could share the same opinion on things? I just wanted to say that I vaguely understand that there are...concerns." Of what nature? Meri was not entirely sure, she has not witnessed and has not heard rumor. "...but I harbor no judgement against you or anything." Frankly, Eirik's words struck Meri a bit like the pot calling the kettle black in ways, but Meri would not outright say that. "As for the situation in the desert? I'm glad that I was able to be of help. I would say that was a great team effort and an idea suggested by Rorin, if my memory serves? We'll see if I am as useful next time around." All of this aside! Meri let's her attention bounce back to Rorin, "You look like you are feeling better than the last time I saw you."

Rorin rubbed at the back of his head with his left hand and looked embarassed. "Yeah, but, I'd feel bad if I burnt someone alive and they didn't at least have a drink from me," he chuckled and his left eye shone a sparkle of life unseen for the past few months. He thought about the conversation between Khitti and Meri and offered his own piece on it, "well being an insider of the guild is a rough job. Some of us have real political ties we have to keep up and with everything going on lately it's a tough job. But don't worry- we work hard together to get the job done when we need too. Sometimes it's not all about skill, it's about experience, inside the guild moreso than out. You just have to be willing to put the work in with us." He would gesture again about seating with them and wait to confer to sit or not. If welcome he'd pour the drinks from the wine and hand them out. He looked about wondering if anyone would propose a toast. "I've recovered, for the most part," Rorin laughed about his own permanent scarring with ease it seems and it's quite questionable how much he'd actually recovered considering how closely he held his right arm to himself. To health, to friendship, and to the guild seemed a good toast to him.

Khitti shook her head to the offered drink once she’d motioned for Rorin to sit as well at the table, “Does no good, hon, not unless I drink from someone who’s already drunk.” She motions her head up towards the rooms, where her own rented abode was located, “And zhere’s only one alcoholic I feed from and he’s quite asleep at zhe moment.” The term ‘alcoholic’ had been used lightheartedly as her line of sight lingered on the staircase, a wistful sigh making itself known before she returned her attention to the tattooed woman and the holy man. “Look, you, uh...you missed out on zhe first bug place ve came across, and some bad zhings happened, “ she said to Meri, “Long story short, I’ve got a shadow creature shackin’ up inside my body and she’s doing vhatever she can to hurt me--specifically going after zhe people I give a damn about. Vhich, of course, includes zhe guild.” Before Meri might interject, she continues, “But! She’s gone at zhe moment. Zhink she’s either all out of steam for zhe moment or just biding her time again. I don’t know. Either vay, it’s safe, -for now-. Eirik...Emrith...zhey’ve got good reason to be vorried. Hell, if zhey don’t zhink I’m vorried about zhis, zhey’re sorely mistaken. Truth is zhat I’m trying to get rid of her and zhey know it and if I don’t succeed, vell, Hildegarde has already said she’d see to zhe problem herself.” That of course meant that Hildegarde would follow through with Khitti’s death sentence that was placed upon her a couple weeks back. “I know zhey’re both concerned about everyone, but I vish zhey’d find out everything before damning me in front of everyone.” A hand juts out, motioning to the crowd on the other side of the tavern. “I’ve got enough people terrified of me. Eirik and his little temper tantrum isn’t helping, but I get vhy he vent down zhe path he did.” She shrugs her bare shoulders, sinking back into her chair, “If zhey’re so vorried about it zhough, zhen zhey’d help. Don’t expect zhem to just drop everything and go to zhe damned Shadow Plane, zhough.” She’d quit with her vaguely irritated monolog, looking then towards Rorin, studying him and the wounds that healed. “You should try a bit of vampire blood vith vhatever zhey’re using to heal you. I’ve used my own on Brand before. Even helped vith spider bites.”

Meri lifts a brow at the mention of burning someone alive, this talking causing her gaze to flit back and forth between Khitti and Rorin thoughtfully but ultimately she determines it might be best not to ask. The sentiments Rorin expresses about the warriors guild, being an inside, the politics, they are all listened to thoughtfully while blue eyes take careful inspection of the boy. Recovered for the most part, questionable indeed, however Meri was not the motherly sort and as far as she was concerned Rorin could make his own decisions. Khitti seems to have a suggestion and Meri just nods along in half-hearted encouragement of this idea, "What she said. Couple more days." Recovered for the most part is accepted. "Fair points, Rorn, fair points." As far as Meri interjecting? It does not happen. She listens to everything that Khitti has to say in thoughtful silence, her reactions minimal. Much of what Khitti said did not really change Meri's opinion, though it did at least shed more light on Khitti's situation -- which could be useful to the woman should things go astray with Khitti ever again. Mention of Hildegarde taking care of the problem? That does get a reaction. It is an awkward shift in Meri's seat, blue eyes averting away from Khitti as a fleeting frown pulls at red lips. Almost as if Meri knows that this is a promise Hildegarde would make good on, perhaps she knew someone? "I hope you are able to resolve your issue then...If I can help?" Shoulders are shrugged in uncertainty. "In the meantime...I will be cautious, especially during expeditions, but still...I harbor no judgement. It is out of your control..."

Rorin at least gave Khitti a small smile. Oh well. It was good to know Khitti lead some semblance of a life outside the guild at least. He simply swilled the wine in his glass and leaned back listening. His one grey eye fell on the table. "I don't like Eirik," he admitted rather openly with a momentary sour expression. He nodded to Khitti at her mention of vampire blood. He'd rather not talk about it though honestly. Instead he simply leaned back and withdrew from his coat a case of herbal cigars and had a light. He looked thoughtful. Contemplative. A young man with a mind opened by war where the cogs and gears were turning but there was no knowing what Rorin thought of in these moments.

Khitti shrugged at Rorin’s admittance of not liking Eirik, “He seems troubled; a outsider vith a past zhat keeps him from trusting people. It’s typical of most folk here, but I can relate at least. Zhis zhing vith Amarrah is not a recent occurrence, even. As long as he doesn’t hurt me or mine, I’ve no quarrel vith him right now.” Of course, there’d been emotional and mental wounding thanks to Eirik’s words the week before, but there was nothing to be done about it. She was getting better at compartmentalizing things in her head like Brand was. “You could go vith us, if you vanted to, Meri. To zhe Shadow Plane.” Should she mention the prophecies? Tell this poor woman what was said about Khitti by the very people that’d written the prophecy? No, best not to. It’s not like it mattered anyway. It was just coincidence, just a story. “Zhere vas a few bumps along zhey vay during our scouting mission, but ve have a better understanding of zhings now. It vould be dangerous, however. Incredibly so. But, between all of us, I zhink ve’d have a hell of a chance zhere at taking care of Amarrah.”

Meri tilts her gaze toward Rorin when he admits that he is no fan of Eirik, but though the tattoo artist called the lycan friend it was not an issue she was going to go to verbal war over. There was likely at least one person that Rorin liked that Meri could easily say that she did not care for. No one specifically comes to mind at this point, but it does stand to reason that the situation exists. "Ah well, to each their own. Do you." All Meri would really would say further on Eirik, she would not even nod to confirm that he does indeed seem to have a bit of a troubled past though she herself was no expert on it. Khitti's logic of Eirik not hurting her or her's seemed fair to Meri, he was a friend but she was not an entirely unreasonable woman. Most of the time. Maybe. Ultimately, their issues with him were not really her business. It was Eirik's."Uh, what is the shadow plane?" As someone who is not -technically- magically inclined, knowledge of such things often eluded Meri. "I mean if you think I could be helpful to you..." And if it would keep Hildegarde from snapping poor Khitti's neck like she did Tyler's, or worse! "It would just probably be good for me to have some idea of what I would be getting into, yeah?"

Rorin disliked Eirik for completely fallible surface reasons. "He's an arsehole," Rorin seemed a bit drunk here honestly but he had some rather personal experience with Eirik on those fronts. "Defeating the beast in it's home? Not the worst of ideas," he smiled again and concluded that she'd be just fine! "Ah- the shadow plane." Rorin withdrew another item from the lengths of his coat, a battered old journal, and opened it to the appropriate section on realms, planes, realities, alternate dimensions, and all that lay within- shadow plane among them of course. It would be a tad hard to read for others as it had been taken in paladin shorthand which often mixed and matched characters of dwarven, elf, common, and it's own. "Khitti is likely something of an expert now I presume? Though I do have several notes on the matter." He indicated with a tap of the scribbly scrawly page. Rorin kept detailed accounts of his journey as most pilgrims do and the collected knowledge between them may explain more than a few things. He also carried The Guide, which he was certain would have pages on the particular kind of shades Khitti may be dealing with.

Khitti’s mouth opened to offer a bit of enlightenment to Meri when Rorin’s mention of knowing the Shadow Plane is made known. After the obvious shock washes off of her, it’s soon replaced with minor irritation, and then a bit of standoffishness, “How zhe hell do -you- know about zhat place?” Now there was suspicion, crimson brows narrowing with concern. Had the mind flayers gotten to him? Were they toying with her? Did he know of the prophecies too? “Zhe only books I’ve found about it vere in zhe mage tower and vere quite vague. I didn’t have access to zhe books meant for guild members, but…” An uneasiness Khitti couldn’t quite quell caused her to shift in her chair, her line of sight shifting to Meri, but soon diverting elsewhere again. “Zhere is nothing vritten in any book zhat can prepare you for zhat place. It is vorse zhan Lithrydel.” She shook her head, her words meant for Meri, “It’s another plane of existence entirely. A mirror of Lithrydel. In a vord: Purgatory. Zhere is zhe dead lingering about, but zhere are also other beings, much like zhe ones here. I have come in contact vith some. Zhere are several tribes about. Some are rather neutral...others’ pretty damned evil. Not sure vhich ones ve’ll run into vhen ve go back, and go to zhe place zhat’s zhe mirror to my homeland, but I don’t have a choice. I’d do it by myself, but Lionel is insistent on helping and Brand is…” She shrugged. Brand was Brand. He did what he wanted, when he wanted.

Meri clears her throat as Rorin presses on with his dislike of Eirik. See, there was a fine line with being okay with someone not liking a friend and sitting around listening to someone trash talk that friend. Meri's not trying to make a huge scene here, hopefully her point is made. There was a discussion being had and as Rorin had already explained, Khitti was one of the most knowledgeable people on the Shadow Plane. Blue eyes briefly flit between Rorin and Khitti, mildly curious to hear what Rorin's answer would be. That would be the inspiration for Meri lingering about just a little bit longer. As far as what Khitti had to say? Not one single word that came out of that woman's mouth inspired any amount want to sign up for this trip to the Shadow Plane. The inspiration came from the fact that Meri was having a hard time looking at Khitti and not thinking back to the gruesome memories that Revan had shared with her. "If you keep me in the loop..." she said, with no amount of confidence. "I will try and help."

Rorin scratched at the back of his head and just mind of shrugged at her. "Paladin, remember? Sort of my job. It's not the best kept secret in the world or anything. Actually knowing anything about it- that's where the trick is. What I've gathered is just sort of general knowledge and tidbits from more reliable sources. Nothing concrete-" he seemed exhausted at the idea, apparently having expended his resources and come to the end of any leads. He pulled out his pocket sized travelers Guide to The Path of Light, as each proper paladin carried, the small harmless white leather cover baring the golden words in pleasant script, title on the front, and 'Keep Calm' on the back. He opened that as well to the tales of Iestros, Paladin of Xalious, who had written a hand account on his dives into the shadow realm. "The thing about it is, the place... changes, in a way. It's not as set as our world- it's so much more fluid than that. So it's not as if we can make a map, but fair attempts have been made at a bestiary, on the more common or dangerous types at least that may find their way into our world. And even those studies are rare," so in essence what any one told anyone about the shadow realm was nearly useless. Bupkis. Totally irrelevant. Rorin had a knack for only battling things he did know at least a bit of something about so he preferred not to go into that creep infested crawling nightmare if he could help it. He was certain anyone who'd been there would well understand.

“Brand is sure as frak not gonna let you face a place like that without him, is what he is.” Well, that sure was an entrance, even if it was a tad belated to be a direct follow-up to Khitti’s statement. When had he even approached them? He was standing behind Khitti as he made himself known, hands on the back of her chair and pose casual as if he’d been standing there quite some time. After a pat on the vampiress’ shoulder, the blonde settled into a chair beside her. A quick nod of the head out towards Rorin and Meri punctuated his next statement: “I take it you’re tryin’ to recruit a few more, though? Can’t say we couldn’t use the help, but…” Green eyes squinted at Rorin. “Not so sure the holy shine n’ sparkle’s gonna be much use there.”

Khitti hadn’t been taken entirely off guard by Brand’s little entrance into the conversation--it’s not like she couldn’t -smell- him approaching. Pursing her lips into a smirk, she tilted her head back to eye him, then shook her head as he said down. “Vhat happened to sleeping?” She could sense Meri’s uncertainty when it came to the trip and the vampiress offered the woman a reassuring smile, “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I mean, zhe first time vas a bit of a disaster in zhe beginning, but none of us had been zhere. Ve didn’t know vhat to expect. Ve vere given help vhile ve vere zhere--”She shot a look now to Rorin”--given an actual map to zheir version of Lithrydel so zhat I can compare it to one here. Ve’re not going in unprepared. Ve didn’t zhe first time either, honestly, but zhere vasn’t any mention of zhe tribes zhat live in zhe Shadow Plane, just zhe plants and animals and such.” The redhead waved a dismissive hand at Rorin’s book, “Hearsay, probably. I doubt any of zhem ever actually vent zhere. Holy magic, like Brand said, and arcane--probably even natural magic too for zhat matter--are dampened zhere, it’s not as strong. Any paladin zhat vould’ve travelled zhere alone, or even vith others, vould’ve been fodder. Necromancers, like me, or any other shadow-user is vhat’s needed to even get zhere, let alone help everyone survive. Don’t expect much of your type to go cavorting about vith people like me--you’re apparently zhe exception zhough.” Addressing Brand finally and his mention of Rorin tagging along, she adds, “I didn’t ask him to go. Just Meri. He’s just a kid, first of all. And second, vhen he’s done hobbling about like I had vhen he fried me and finishes healing, he’s gonna have to help look after Frostmaw vhile Lionel’s vith us. At least, zhat vould be zhe smart zhing to do, anyway.” Khitti may not have entirely agreed with Lionel making her his aide-de-camp, but she sure as hell could attempt to think as strategically as Briar had.

Meri is not typically a jumpy woman but seriously, where did Brand come from? Even now Meri does not full on jump but there is a bit of a start and she does level a scrutinizing look on the guy, which is trailed with a nod and then silence. There was much useful conversation going on and Meri didn't want to talk over anyone. "Well, she asked me to go slash I offered to help." She couldn't put all of the oweness on Khitti as Meri was a grown woman and had not been shy about a willingness to try and be of assistance. This is explained as the blonde slides her chair back and collects her fur-lined cloak, needing to wrap both hands around the thing to really get it under control. Big. Warm. Fuzzy. As far as if Rorin would be useful the couple on their trip to the Shadow Plane -- that falls into the not-Meri's-business category and the trio could have that debate amongst themselves. This is where Meri checks out. "Alright, I am sure I will see you lot later but I am going to get myself a room and call it." Blue eyes level on Khitti, "We'll be in touch." Meri might have normally given a lazy salute both arms are occupado.

Rorin offered a gentle smile to Brand. Or Dominic. Or... well, he'd never met this particular creature before so that should come first. "Rorin Shéz-" the pilgrim stopped himself and coughed. Why would that come out here? "Er, Rorin Deleas Gilead, Pilgrim of Arkhen. By no means a true paladin-" he explained this often, "you may find the opposite true. A bit of light is exactly what you need where you're going, that is, once you've found where you're going. But I get a sense this is more personal than that so I won't just go shoving my services places they aren't wanted," he inclined understandably. He chuckled at Khitti’s nuances. She certainly was the presumptive type wasn't she? Lots of opinions on her. Not that he minded. The glittering in his eye said he believed that was a challenge. His mouth remained in nothing but a joyful smirk however. He half saluted Meri in that Rorin way snd drank. He wondered if it was furtherly proper for him to be privy to the following conversation between the two... lovers? Friends? Honestly Rorin had no idea what Khitti’s relationship to that one was or any detail of her life. Suppose it wasn't actually necessary.

Brand waved Khitti’s question off, masking evasiveness with a touch of humor. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead, peach; don’t worry about it. Might even be pretty gorram soon, here, if those Gloomglut get at us again.” They’d encountered those voracious abominations on their scouting trip, and they’d been so impervious to magic and blade alike that the group had only survived by... jumping off a cliff. (It had seemed like a good idea at the time.) Magic and a really long rope had saved them from falling to their deaths that time, but there was no guarantee they’d get so lucky twice. “Or -- she can do the sleepin’ for me.” This was said with a lazy wave to the departing Meri. They’d have to introduce themselves properly another time, he supposed. Speaking of which, he knew plenty -of- Rorin, but... “Ah, yes. I guess we’d not had much time for the formal meet n’ greets on those guild missions of yours, did we? Name’s Brand. Just Brand, none of your fancy titles n’ whatnot. Elementalist, if you hadn’t already gathered from your guild’s shindigs.” Turning to Khitti, he quipped, “I swear, I’m gonna have to come up with somethin’ catchy to tack onto my name. Half these Lithrydel folk, they’ve got fifty-seven deeds listed out like they’re gorram royalty.” The Catalian dug an index finger into the grooves of the table as he turned back to Rorin and added, “you havin’ just the one tells me you’ve either not got a stick planted up your arse quite so far as the rest of ‘em, or you’ve not done much of anything worth notin’ yet.” In a beat of silence, Brand seemed to size up the paladin. “You bein’ Lionel’s squire n’ all, my bet’s on the former.”

Khitti was a woman after all--she had plenty of opinions. Most of them were about herself, though, thankfully for Rorin, and of course none of them were at all positive. “Pilgrim. Paladin. Close enough,” she muttered. Close enough that that magic of his sure as hell hurt, but of course, she kept that to herself. Side-eyeing Brand, she shrugged, “I don’t exactly have any fancy titles either, you know. Even been zhinkin’ about getting rid of ‘von Schreier’. No point in a surname vhen you’re zhe last of your family. Even if I do manage to get rid of zhis vampirism, probably von’t live long enough to have children anyway to pass it on.” At least not with the way things with Dominic were going. With a sigh, green eyes fixed on Rorin, “Look, kid--” she placed an index finger on the table, tapping it impatiently as she spoke, “--if you vant to help, zhat’s fine. You can come vith us. Hildegarde could -probably- manage the day or so it’ll take to go back zhere. Time vorks differently in zhat place. By time ve came back, it vas only just after lunch here despite zhe fact zhat zheir sun passed over us twice in zhat time.” That was irrelevant, and Khitti shook her head, continuing on, “If you go vith us, you do as I say. You do as Brand says. You do as Lionel says. Zhis isn’t some guild expedition. Zhis has nothing to do vith Lionel’s grand army, has nothing to do vith your rank in it or other title you might hold zhanks to royalty in some form or another. Zhe three of us are in charge, and me most of all, because zhis is -my- mission, -my- quest.” It’s your quest because it was foretold. You’re doing what was written. You can’t change fate. “I-I-I made the decision to do zhis.” Destiny. Fate. Death. Your fault. You can’t stop it. The redhead began to stumble over her words, her mouth hanging open for a bit as crimson brows furrowed together. Did she really make the decision to do this? Was it free will at all? Khitti’d gotten a little worked up along the trail of spouting off those things she’d said to Rorin, but now she was rather quiet as she spoke, “Enough people have died because of me, over zhe course of sixteen years. Please don’t add your name to zhat list.”

Rorin scratched his head. He sort of reserved the full titilations for the people who expected them; various calibers of nobles and whatnot. Being a Pilgrim wasn't so much of a title as it was just the thing that he did. Like saying you were a bookkeeper. Rorin honestly hadn't had the time to gather much of the information he would like on Brand but he was sure it didn't matter quite so much. Seemed like a nice guy, anyway. Rorin smiled back at Khitti. She still thought he was a kid? "I don't think the realm would miss me for a few hours, not like I was born here," whatever that meant to anyone that wasn't him. "I'm good at following orders and I don't give a damn about fame or glory. I just want to help," that sounded and looked completely genuine- because it was. "I understand this has been tough for you," he said, equally concerned and honest, "Which is why I'm leaving it up to you. Your mission. Your decision. Captain," he smiled a bit at her again. Rorin really did like being nice.

Khitti wasn’t the only one those prophecies had cast a cloud over. In truth, Brand hadn’t slept much more than Khitti, because if anything the dreams were worse than reality. He was no follower of religion and eschewed even the most basic spirituality, but when one dreams of a prophecy before it’s even told to them, before it’s even revealed that it’s -about- them, well… it could be said that Brand was suffering a crisis of faith at the moment. Privately. Inwardly. As far as appearances went, though, he seemed much the same as ever, regarding Rorin’s words with a smirk and conversing with equal parts snark and seriousness, whatever the situation called for. “Heh. He called you ‘captain.’ “ Brand gifted Khitti a jab of elbow into ribcage. “Tell me, kiddo.” Yep, Rorin was getting called a kid again. But in fairness Brand was, to all appearances, easily old enough to have fathered him. He couldn’t be the only one noticing the flecks of grey beginning to crop up around his temples. “What, to date, is the most dangerous mission you’ve ever been on? Are you prepared if a comrade dies along the way by the claws or the teeth of some horrid creature? If Lionel dies with you watchin’? Because I hate to say it, but that’s a sizeable possibility with the way things are over there. I’d wager, you pit those bugs the guild’s been fightin’ against most of the Shadow Plane creatures we ran into, the bugs’d lose.”

Khitti let out a wry laugh, “Tough? Tough doesn’t even come close to it, Rorin. And, ugh, please don’t call me ‘captain’.” The jab in her ribs had brought her back to a semi-sane state-of-mind for the moment as she side-eyed Brand again, giving him a grin as he continued on the insinuation of Rorin being a child. She wasn’t even all that much younger than Brand was, but was definitely older than the pilgrim that sat with them. There was a glimmer, a twinkle even, of something close to love for Brand in those emerald eyes as listened to him speak--or it could just be dust. You know. Probably just dust in her eyes. Or some pesky pollen. Allergies. Yes, definitely. Don’t mind the fact that she’s dead and likely can’t be allergic anything other than dragon’s blood. She shook it off, whatever it was, and set her sights on Lionel’s squire again, “He’s right. You’ve got to be ready for anything. Those bugs vere nothing. Zhere’s no telling how strong Amarrah vould be if she had her body again. Even just as a spirit, just an essence, she’s stronger than I am. Some of zhe humanoid creatures, zhe ones like us, zhey all have different abilities. Zhe ones ve met, in zheir version of Larket, zhey gave us a bunch of info. Maybe vhen zhings aren’t so crazy, ve’ll go back and you can speak to zhem--maybe even learn some stuff from zhem. I’ll even let you copy zhe map for your book too.” When wasn’t things crazy though? And before Brand might say anything about going back, she’d add, “Of course, I’d make the portal -in- Larket zhough, or in zhe forest nearby, since ve know it’s a safe zone. Or as safe as it’s gonna get.”

� Rorin was being called a kid again. Oh well. He was barely seventeen and this man seemed beyond his thirties. The pilgrim preferred to prove himself instead of boast but still. He thumbed at his glass and that left eye went rather deep looking. As if somewhere behind that small smile he was still searching for the same old answers. "I've already saved my comrades from death once. Didn't exactly lose my eye for nothing," he wanted whiskey. Self control. "But danger? The most danger I've ever been in ended up with me dead," there was no joke or exaggeration here. "Not that I'd let that happen again though. You sort of learn your lesson the first time around. I'm always ready," the eye went glancing at the weapons at his hip. He had for more than that now but it was true. A blade hadn't left Rorin’s side since that day. At the hospital he kept a knife in his boot. Every day for the past two weeks he wouldn't stop sneaking out to the yard for training. Yes, Rorin was ready. He was always ready. That was his job now.

Brand and Rorin were of the same mind at the moment, whether they realized it or not; as Rorin spoke, Brand pulled a whiskey-filled flask from his vest pocket and took a heavy swig of it. It was only with great care that he managed to not splutter all over the table at Rorin implying he’d been brought back from the dead. He’d chosen a bad time to drink. The remainder of Rorin’s speech was met with a look of incredulousness and, just maybe, the faintest hint of newfound respect. “Seven hells. Well there’s somethin’ I haven’t done.” Collecting himself, the Catalian turned to Khiti with a nod (and lucky for her, he’d been too otherwise occupied to catch that fond look of hers). “Aye, that’s good enough for me if it’s good enough for you. Still dunno about that light magic, but he seems to know his limits well enough. And he’s not bad with a crossbow, as I recall.”

Khitti stared at Rorin as he spoke, the grin she’d held moments ago fading as she listened intently. He wasn’t much older than she had been when this whole thing with Amarrah had started. Probably around the same age as Brand when he’d be handed over to the Daggers, the same as when Lionel washed up on Lithrydel’s shore to start his life as the ‘hero of Hellfire’. No, Rorin was no kid. Khitti knew better than that. You could tell just by looking at him, looking at the beating he’d taken. And he died even? Yeah. That’s gonna turn you into an adult real quick-like. She’d eased back into her chair by now, maybe even leaning a bit closer to Brand without realizing it, their shoulders touching. She remained silent, letting Brand speak as she contemplated things until finally she said, “You do vhat -you- can to get better. Send one of zhe healers here and I’ll give zhem a few vials of my blood to help speed zhings along--don’t drink it, mind you. Don’t need you becoming a thrall. I vant no part of zhat siring and half-siring business like other vampires in zhis realm. Being a necromancer’s bad enough at times vith controlling zhe undead.” She paused, gathering her thoughts before she got too off-topic. “You do zhat, and you survive vhatever Vailkrin zhrows at us zhis veekend--because zhere’s more zhan just spiders in zhat damned city, you know--and you can go.” She was sincere and she even smiled at him, her decision final. “But!” She’d add rather quickly afterwards, “Take great care not to harm anyone zhere unless need be and only do so after instructed--or, I guess, if it -really- looks like zhings are going to go downhill. Zhat’s not our home. Not our realm. Not our rules. Zhere are several tribes zhere zhat are benevolent. One, even, zhat ve’re going to need to seek out for safe passage across zheir ocean to get to get to zheir version of my homeland. None of zhat causing a ruckus zhat I heard about zhat you had part of in Larket. Zhose guys probably deserved it, but I’ll be damned if I don’t punch you in zhe face to knock you out before anything else could happen.” Khitti had a pretty mean right hook. Brand knows all about it. “If ve happen upon any of zhe not-so-nice types again, ve’ll deal vith it as best as ve can, and in hopefully a not-violent vay.”

Rorin itched in his fingers and his mouth was suddenly vacant of water at the sight and smell of the liquid gold. It was just a spare moment in which he seemed a man who hadn't had a chance to drown his demons in a torturously long time. Rorin’s one good eye returned to his wine. Might as well be spit water, he felt. At the mention of his crossbow his hand took to caressing the yew body of it firmly. A moment of weakness came where he envisioned pulling the trigger on himself. One more drink and one more prayer for the strength to get up from this table at the end of the night and find a bed to be haunted in. Not yet. Deep breaths. All you need is one day after the next. Plenty of people had died around, for, under, over, next to, in front, and behind him, in all sorts of ways. Teammates dying he could take. One more reason to fight. "It won’t be necessary," Rorin replied somewhat deadpan before coughing a bit and restoring his happy-go-lucky tone with its accompanying 3/4ths of a smile. "My arm is completely recovered," he was lying through his teeth but honestly who needed to know that? "Like I said, I'm good at following orders." She said that a lot. "I have no qualms following your lead on this matter," he held up his drink for the closing toast and downed the wine. Tasted like piss as far as he was concerned. "For now though I believe I'll retire. Let me know if you need help strategizing," it was a well known fact among the militiamen that other than Briar, Rorin had actually been forming most of Lionels command decisions. Sort of ironic with him being the squire- but Lionel preferred charging in heroically and historically that was his thing. Rorin was the only one of the pair with the time to actually scout and gather first hand information so the studious squire often lent a hand with formations of troops and intel on the enemy. That hadn't mattered so much at the battle for the bridge but that war story was a different matter. One Rorin would be screaming about in the middle of the night again as the faces of all his dead friends clawed up from the graves of his memory. With a smile he bid them goodnight and even spared an informal bow on his way. They seemed like nice people. Troubled, but nice, he decided.

Brand subconsciously rubbed at one stubbled cheek, the Ghost of Right-Hooks Past resurfacing. With his other hand he threw up a wave as Rorin rose and departed and left the not-quite-a-couple to themselves. Very much to themselves, in fact, as everyone else present was still giving Khitti as wide a berth as ever. It hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Well, he seems a different sort than I’d expected.” Whatever the hell it was Brand meant by that, he didn’t elaborate. “Let’s head back upstairs, yeah?” Brand murmured, eyes to the empty tables surrounding them. “More people warrants a change of plans, and it gets hard to think with all the starin’.”