Fy lleidr bach,
I left you a hangover potion on your nightstand.
If you need it, use it. There is much to do today.
Atres
XOXOXOXOX
Smiling, even through the headache, she reaches for the potion and chugs it down. The taste is terrible, and she grimaces, but the pounding headache begins to ease. Unsure of what’s planned for the day, Emlyn rummages through her clothing, trying to decide on a good “ready for anything” outfit. Finally settling on a split riding skirt and a woolen sweater, she dresses quickly and braids her hair. Opening the door, she finds Atres leaning against the wall, smiling at her.
“How are you?” Atres asks, eyeing her critically.
“Good,” Emlyn replies, “Thanks for the potion.”
“I have another, if you need it,” Atres grins, “You put quite a dent in that bottle.”
“I think I’m alright,” Emlyn shrugs, “Mostly hungry.”
Atres frowns a bit, “You seem thinner. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I decided to skip the padding and the chainmail,” Emlyn explains, “We’re in the city and it seemed unnecessary.”
“Hmm,” Atres replies, “Let’s see about getting some food into you.”
“What’s the plan for today?” Emlyn asks.
“I thought we’d go poke around the King’s Guard armory,” Atres shrugs, “until it’s time to meet Argonath.”
“I think that would be lovely,” Emlyn nods, heading down the stairs.
Kethas hears the footsteps on the stairs and pokes his head out of the kitchen. On seeing Emlyn, he grins, “How’s that head this morning?”
“Quite well now,” Emlyn grins back, “I drank rather more of that than I meant to.”
“As Atres said, the circumstances were exceptional,” Kethas shrugs, “Just don’t make a habit of it.”
“I certainly don’t plan to,” Emlyn replies, “It’s in my oaths to seek moderation in all things.”
Satisfied, Kethas retreats into the kitchen.
Atres, following behind her, sniffs, “Gods! That’s the smell of home. That smell – I could almost swear my mother was making breakfast.” Kethas laughs, “I thought you might like a taste of home. Sit, it’s almost ready.”
Kethas comes out of the kitchen a little while later, carrying platters of fried potatoes, chunks of goat stewed in a spicy sauce, fresh flatbread from the oven, pickled vegetables, and some scrambled eggs. He sets them down and returns shortly carrying a jug of tea, mugs, and a stack of plates.
Gesturing them to dig in, Kethas starts helping himself, “Don’t worry about Benger and Ember. If you sleep in here, you get what everyone else leaves.”
Laughing, Emlyn starts loading food on her plate. Kethas looks a bit surprised and raises an eyebrow at Atres, who shrugs. Sometime later, Benger comes down the stairs following his nose and joins them.
Finishing her plate of food, Emlyn sighs contentedly, and Kethas chuckles, “Don’t they feed you at that Temple of yours, girl?”
Lounging in her chair, sipping at the tea, Emlyn nods, “They do, but not as much as I’d like. They keep trying to slow me down, but I’d rather eat more, train harder, and work it all off.”
Kethas eyes her critically, “You seem a bit… smaller today. What gives?”
“I skipped the padding and the chain mail,” Emlyn replies with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“The healers have her on restrictions,” Benger adds, around a mouthful of food, “but she wants to get used to moving with the weight again.”
“Maybe I’ll take you to the King’s Guard training yard,” Atres nods, “while we’re there.”
“She’s supposed to be limited,” Ember says from the stairwell, “to nothing heavier than a gambeson and wooden weapons. I won’t object to her training with you, but those are her restrictions.”
Rolling her eyes, Emlyn grins, “Oes, tad.”
“Don’t you ‘Yes, Dad’ me,” Ember mock growls at her, and Emlyn dissolves into laughter.
“Gethin told you,” Emlyn chuckles.
“He did,” Ember smiles, “It’s good to see you laughing.”
“Come have some breakfast,” Kethas says, “If Amalie can spare you a bit longer.”
Ember shakes his head, “No, I’d best be going. She’ll be starting to worry about now. Benger, a word.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Nodding, Benger follows Ember to the doorway, where there’s a somewhat hushed conversation before Ember departs a few minutes later.
Grinning, Benger returns, “I’m supposed to go with you to make sure that you abide by the restrictions. If you don’t, then we’re both going to be in trouble.”
“Arrg,” Emlyn groans, “He knows me too well.”
At Atres’s look, Emlyn explains, “While I might do something that gets myself in trouble, I won’t do anything that gets any of my cohort in trouble.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Atres grins, “That might stop you from attracting so much trouble.”
“It’s not like I go looking for it,” Emlyn shrugs, “It finds me.”
“You don’t exactly walk away, though, do you, girl?” Kethas points out, “Even when you could.”
“I find that hard to do,” Emlyn agrees, “given some of the situations I’ve faced. My oaths and my nature often don’t allow me to.”
“Look here,” Kethas sighs, “I’m going to try to be as plain as I can. We never thought Atres would bond with anyone. Now he’s bonding with you. If you do something stupid and get yourself killed, that bond breaks, and him with it. A thing like that can rip the gift right out of a Valkis. It can drive them to madness or suicide. It might even just kill him outright. Even if someone manages to resurrect you, he’s still in whatever shape feeling you die left him in – broken, insane, or maybe dead himself.”
Sighing heavily, Emlyn nods, “Oes, ewythr.”
Frowning at her for a moment, Kethas glances at Atres, who shrugs. “What’s that mean, girl?”
“Yes, uncle.”
“Uncle, eh?” Kethas chuckles, “I suppose that’ll do, if you call Ember your father.”
“He’s been more of one,” Emlyn grimaces, “to me, these past few months than my own ever has.”
Atres frowns but sets that aside.
“Come on, lass,” Atres grins, “Let’s go rummage through a bunch of dusty old weapons. We already had a good rummage through the Temple’s armory and found a few things. Maybe we can find a few more at the King’s Guard armory.”
With a last regretful glance at the breakfast, Emlyn follows Atres outside. Kethas chuckles as Benger wolfs down his last few bites before following them. Walking more slowly this time, Emlyn gets to look around. Atres sees her curiosity and slows a bit more.
“You haven’t been to this part of the city,” Atres asks, “have you?”
“I haven’t been outside the Temple much at all,” Emlyn replies, “I’m just now able to walk far enough to see any of it.”
“Would you like me to show you the city?” Atres asks.
Emlyn nods and Atres grins, “Oh, lass, I think I might quite like that. This is more the working-class part of the city.”
Pointing up to the hill, where the duke’s castle sits, Atres explains, “It gets fancier the closer you get to the castle. We can walk up the hill to the park that’s up there, and you can see the whole city. It’s a rather impressive view.”
“Walking is supposed to be good for her recovery,” Benger chimes in, and Atres chuckles.
“Well, lass,” Atres grins at her, “It seems I shall be playing tour guide. I think a picnic in the park would be lovely.”
The trio walks to the King’s Guard headquarters, and Atres ushers her inside. Leading the way into the lower basement level, he fishes out the key ring Argonath provided and tugs open the door.
“These are all smaller things,” Atres explains, “and they’ll take longer for us to pick through. Maybe something here will be useful.”
Nodding, Emlyn starts prowling down the aisles, peering into bins and boxes. Most things are unusual, bladed weapons like throwing stars or bladed chains, and not particularly interesting, so she passes them by. Occasionally, Benger hauls something out of a box or bin to examine. Emlyn will come and demonstrate a bit of how it’s used. Chuckling to himself, Atres admits that he’s not entirely surprised that she knows. On a bottom shelf in the back of the storage area, Emlyn kneels down and hauls out a dusty box and sneezes.
She opens it and her face lights up.
“Ooo,” Emlyn coos, “This is a good find.”
Grinning, she turns to Atres, “This is a lovely bit of kit,” Emlyn says, wagging the thing at him, “Can we ask Argonath if we can take these with us?”
“What is that?” Benger asks, “It looks like nothing more than a hand grip off a shield.”
“Yes and no,” Emlyn grins, “Do you think we could take these to your training yard? I’ll show you what they are.”
“I don’t see why not,” Atres shrugs, “since we’re not leaving the building. I’ll just go sign them out while you keep poking around for more treasures.”
Atres returns to find Emlyn prowling through more bins and boxes, but finally she shrugs, “I think I’m done here. I’m not really seeing anything else.”
“Care to come meet some more of the King’s Guard?” Atres grins, “I’ll introduce you to some of my friends. They should be up in the training yard soon.” Grin widening, Atres adds, “Maybe I’ll even take you to get you fitted for some of our leathers.”
Blushing, Emlyn ducks her head and nods, “Only if you can help me put my hair up in the traditional war braids to go with it.”
Atres leads them through the building to an extensive training yard on another level. There are a couple of men at the far end sparring, but no one else seems to be around. Atres sets the box down on a bench and watches curiously. Emlyn strips off a glove and grabs one of the items that resembles a shield grip.
Slightly alarmed, he whispers, “Should you be doing that? Here?”
“These haven’t been charged in a long time,” Emlyn shrugs, “It takes skin contact to get them working again. This shouldn’t take long.”
Handing a second one to Benger, she has him grab it and tells him, “Focus on pushing your aura into it.”
After a few minutes, Emlyn adopts a stance with a slight frown of concentration, a glowing shield springs into existence, belling around her. Gesturing for Benger to copy her, he tries it, but it sputters for a bit before he’s got a near duplicate.
“I’m going to link this one,” Emlyn says, “with yours, so hang on.”
Emlyn steps sideways and aligns herself with Benger. Leaning toward Benger, the two shields overlap and become something more substantial.
Taking a deep breath, Emlyn calls a halt after a few moments, “That’s enough. That’s a bit of a strain to maintain.”
Atres stares in amazement as Emlyn drops the shield and tosses the item back into the box, then pulls her glove back on.
“I don’t know how the King’s Guard ended up with them,” Emlyn says, “but they’re of no use to any of you. You have to be a paladin with a fairly powerful aura to use them. “
“What are they?” Atres asks.
“My people’s name for them would translate to something like Paladin’s Halos,” Emlyn replies, “It lets you focus your aura more tightly. It becomes easier to deflect or reflect damage once you gain some practice with it. I’d love to see if the Temple smiths can’t replicate them.”
“Now I see why you were so excited to find them,” Atres says.
“It might not be much help with Divaros,” Emlyn grins, “but they’re a good find. Now, where are your wooden weapons?”
Atres leads her into a side room, full of wooden weapons of nearly every size, shape, and description. Sorting through them, she finds some good approximations of the new weapons that she’s got the smiths making for Atres.
Tossing two of them to Atres, Emlyn grins, “Now let’s see what you can do with these. They won’t have the same weight, but I think if we use that narrow area by the benches, you’ll see why I say these are better in close quarters than that rapier.”
Heading back out to the designated narrow practice area, Emlyn sets herself up and signals for Atres to attack her. Benger wanders over to referee, and Atres attacks but is surprised to find Emlyn blocking or dodging most of the blows. When he does land one, it catches her right on the collarbone, and she winces.
Grimacing, she halts the fight and heals herself. “Now do you see how much faster and easier that is? With your reach, you should be able to subdue most opponents in fairly short order.”
“I did notice,” Atres agrees, “that I wasn’t banging my elbow on the wall.”
“Making the transition to these shouldn’t be that much of a stretch,” Emlyn smiles, “and it will keep you safer.”
-
Current Count: 3 "Unearned Smirks" and 1 "Sultry Look."
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Observation: "Atres is laying it on thick today. He left her a note with 'XOXO' on it! Disgusting. Then he took her to the King’s Guard armory just so he could watch her 'prowl' through dusty bins. He’s playing the long game, folks—one thousand and eighty-two days of waiting. I’d have had her swooning in a week with the right ballad and a decent set of beard beads.
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Current Jar Total: 22 coppers, a silver earring, and a map to a tavern that doesn't exist yet.
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Boltir’s Plea: "Did you see that? Nia found 'Paladin’s Halos' in a dusty box and immediately started training with them. She’s a natural! Meanwhile, Atres is just standing there 'smiling' like he won a prize. If you think Nia deserves a bard who can actually keep up with her aura-shielding, toss a coin in the jar! I’m saving up for a set of 'Anti-Hangover Earplugs' for when I have to listen to Atres’s romantic advice. Also, leave a review if you think Nia should have 'accidentally' hit Atres a little harder during that practice bout! "
Have you ever had someone violate your trust?