"I thought this was a world far from Thanalan."
Osric Melkire stirred where he sat, the midnight helm held in his lap. He raised his head to glance at Roen Deneith where she stood… then he joined her in considering the the campfire before them. "Would y'like it to be?"
She narrowed her eyes, the flickering flames lending a golden hue to those pale pupils. "I did. For a long time."
He nodded. "And now?"
Roen chewed on her lower lip.
"I am... unsure." She turned pensive, her gaze following a small ember that took to the air. She shook her head, then looked to the sergeant. "You need not worry about me... Osric."
He could see on her face that his name tasted odd as it left her lips.
"As I recall,†she went on, “you always have a full plate when it comes to worrying about others and trying to keep them safe."
He shrugged.
"Used to be I filled m'plate because I cared. These suns? Others fill m'plate for me, and it's usually m'own gods-damned fault. Past deeds, 'n' all that. Nahare told you as much. Warren's next on her list." Osric blinked, then corrected himself with a shake of his head. "Castille. The paladin what runs the Grindstone these suns."
Roen nodded slowly.
"I know of Ser Castille. I met him when he and Ser Crofte were…." She trailed off. "I was told he was there with you in the tunnels." She turned back to the flames. "That woman, Nahare. Are you going to help her?"
The Lominsan chewed on that for some time.
"Even if I weren't inclined to -- which I am -- others would force the matter, like as not. I'm a spider caught between a web o' my own weaving and at least two others that ain't m'own… which brings us t'why I'm here."
He hesitated... then glanced at Roen who nodded again.
"So you came to talk to me about Nahare," she murmured. She let out a quiet exhale, as if relieved. "She... seems like a good woman."
"She can be, given more time. About as rough as Askier was, when we first met her." He shook his head. "How far removed from the runt's mess would y'like to be? I've enough sway with the right folk to push the matter towards either extreme."
She, too, shook her head. "I am not certain why she sought me out in the first place… or that this maniac even uttered my name."
Osric blinked. "You don't know."
Roen tilted her head. "Know what?"
Osric moved to stand, tucking his helm beneath one arm as he went. He looked to the unlit brazier that stood a dozen fulms or so from the decrepit structure that comprised Oakum Landing..Roen stiffened as he did so, as if bracing for bad news.
"Back when he was still livin',†he said, “he collared me. Told me that my network o' contacts was too much of a threat, that he'd been forced to remove that threat by takin' off the head."
He glanced back at her.
"He knows Kanaria 'n' I won't ever allow ourselves to be collared again... so this time, he's going after those contacts directly." He rolled a shoulder. "So aye, I've too much on m'plate... but I'm responsible for the shite what comes your way."
Roen met his eyes. The woman exhaled, as if resigned. "Ah."
Osric winced. "Apologies. The last thing you're wantin' is your old life draggin' you back to it."
Roen Deneith nods, her fingers curling slowly over her chainmail armor.
"I am learning every sun, that running from your past is... a futile thing." She furrows her brow. "I know this. I -know- this. And yet..."
"You still want to." He said the words as if he knew a thing or two about running.
Roen Deneith nodded almost imperceptibly.. That stoic mask fell just a bit as she pressed her lips into a tight line.
"A part of me wants to turn around and face all that I left behind. A part of me screams for it. Then another part…." She bowed her head. "Then the other part of me remembers why I ran and then ran further."
Her shoulders sagged with a sigh. "My brother is missing. Do you know that?"
Osric nodded. "Delial 'n' I've spoken. Tried to tap what little I've got in the Shroud to help, but... nothin' on my end."
The woman flicked a look at him, and there was a shadow of guilt that flits across her face.
"I do not know if he just left or if he is in danger. But I... I refused to become involved. I… I am not the paladin you once knew, Osric." She shook her head.
"Good."
She blinked.
He shrugged as he broke out into a grin. "The paladin I knew was a mess. Couldn't choose, couldn't commit. Let others do those things for her. I don't know if it's a paladin I'm seein' now, but what's before me looks seven hells of a lot better."
Roen stared at him. Quite some time passed before she spoke again. "So, you said you used to have your plates full because you cared. Do you? Still?"
The man looked back to the beacon.
"...I care enough t'fight my way out, 'n' to take those I care for with me. The rest... I don't know. Only so many meals before you're full."
Melkire slipped his helm back on and secured it one strap at a time. Deneith nodded absently, before she looked off in the same general direction.
"That woman... Nahare... she warned me when she did not have to. She put her own safety at risk for mine. So... I owe her that much."
Melkire turned an alien gaze on the woman.
"Runnin' can only take you so far," came his distorted, metallic-sounding voice, "and you're not the dyin' sort. I'm offerin' you a chance to cheat. You want in? Or out?"
Deneith flicked him a glance. There was a slowly narrowing of her grey eyes.
"The thought of cheating... the old me would not have it. I am no longer that woman. Let me know what I can do."
Melkire tilted his head to one side.
"If 'n' when you're ready... look to your shadow, and pray aloud. Ask for a gift. From Thal."
She blinked She stared at him for a moment. She nodded.
"Take care, Light." With that, he turned and bellowed. "ANSFRID!"
She parted her lips to protest… then sighed. He glanced just the once over his shoulder as a griffin descended and landed before him. He mounted without a word. She watched his back, and for a brief moment as he turned, her stoic mask fell away completely and she regarded him in earnest.
He nodded... and then he and the griffin were gone, nothing but a wing-swept gust billowing the drifts behind them.
"Stay safe, sergeant," she murmured to the wind.
Osric Melkire stirred where he sat, the midnight helm held in his lap. He raised his head to glance at Roen Deneith where she stood… then he joined her in considering the the campfire before them. "Would y'like it to be?"
She narrowed her eyes, the flickering flames lending a golden hue to those pale pupils. "I did. For a long time."
He nodded. "And now?"
Roen chewed on her lower lip.
"I am... unsure." She turned pensive, her gaze following a small ember that took to the air. She shook her head, then looked to the sergeant. "You need not worry about me... Osric."
He could see on her face that his name tasted odd as it left her lips.
"As I recall,†she went on, “you always have a full plate when it comes to worrying about others and trying to keep them safe."
He shrugged.
"Used to be I filled m'plate because I cared. These suns? Others fill m'plate for me, and it's usually m'own gods-damned fault. Past deeds, 'n' all that. Nahare told you as much. Warren's next on her list." Osric blinked, then corrected himself with a shake of his head. "Castille. The paladin what runs the Grindstone these suns."
Roen nodded slowly.
"I know of Ser Castille. I met him when he and Ser Crofte were…." She trailed off. "I was told he was there with you in the tunnels." She turned back to the flames. "That woman, Nahare. Are you going to help her?"
The Lominsan chewed on that for some time.
"Even if I weren't inclined to -- which I am -- others would force the matter, like as not. I'm a spider caught between a web o' my own weaving and at least two others that ain't m'own… which brings us t'why I'm here."
He hesitated... then glanced at Roen who nodded again.
"So you came to talk to me about Nahare," she murmured. She let out a quiet exhale, as if relieved. "She... seems like a good woman."
"She can be, given more time. About as rough as Askier was, when we first met her." He shook his head. "How far removed from the runt's mess would y'like to be? I've enough sway with the right folk to push the matter towards either extreme."
She, too, shook her head. "I am not certain why she sought me out in the first place… or that this maniac even uttered my name."
Osric blinked. "You don't know."
Roen tilted her head. "Know what?"
Osric moved to stand, tucking his helm beneath one arm as he went. He looked to the unlit brazier that stood a dozen fulms or so from the decrepit structure that comprised Oakum Landing..Roen stiffened as he did so, as if bracing for bad news.
"Back when he was still livin',†he said, “he collared me. Told me that my network o' contacts was too much of a threat, that he'd been forced to remove that threat by takin' off the head."
He glanced back at her.
"He knows Kanaria 'n' I won't ever allow ourselves to be collared again... so this time, he's going after those contacts directly." He rolled a shoulder. "So aye, I've too much on m'plate... but I'm responsible for the shite what comes your way."
Roen met his eyes. The woman exhaled, as if resigned. "Ah."
Osric winced. "Apologies. The last thing you're wantin' is your old life draggin' you back to it."
Roen Deneith nods, her fingers curling slowly over her chainmail armor.
"I am learning every sun, that running from your past is... a futile thing." She furrows her brow. "I know this. I -know- this. And yet..."
"You still want to." He said the words as if he knew a thing or two about running.
Roen Deneith nodded almost imperceptibly.. That stoic mask fell just a bit as she pressed her lips into a tight line.
"A part of me wants to turn around and face all that I left behind. A part of me screams for it. Then another part…." She bowed her head. "Then the other part of me remembers why I ran and then ran further."
Her shoulders sagged with a sigh. "My brother is missing. Do you know that?"
Osric nodded. "Delial 'n' I've spoken. Tried to tap what little I've got in the Shroud to help, but... nothin' on my end."
The woman flicked a look at him, and there was a shadow of guilt that flits across her face.
"I do not know if he just left or if he is in danger. But I... I refused to become involved. I… I am not the paladin you once knew, Osric." She shook her head.
"Good."
She blinked.
He shrugged as he broke out into a grin. "The paladin I knew was a mess. Couldn't choose, couldn't commit. Let others do those things for her. I don't know if it's a paladin I'm seein' now, but what's before me looks seven hells of a lot better."
Roen stared at him. Quite some time passed before she spoke again. "So, you said you used to have your plates full because you cared. Do you? Still?"
The man looked back to the beacon.
"...I care enough t'fight my way out, 'n' to take those I care for with me. The rest... I don't know. Only so many meals before you're full."
Melkire slipped his helm back on and secured it one strap at a time. Deneith nodded absently, before she looked off in the same general direction.
"That woman... Nahare... she warned me when she did not have to. She put her own safety at risk for mine. So... I owe her that much."
Melkire turned an alien gaze on the woman.
"Runnin' can only take you so far," came his distorted, metallic-sounding voice, "and you're not the dyin' sort. I'm offerin' you a chance to cheat. You want in? Or out?"
Deneith flicked him a glance. There was a slowly narrowing of her grey eyes.
"The thought of cheating... the old me would not have it. I am no longer that woman. Let me know what I can do."
Melkire tilted his head to one side.
"If 'n' when you're ready... look to your shadow, and pray aloud. Ask for a gift. From Thal."
She blinked She stared at him for a moment. She nodded.
"Take care, Light." With that, he turned and bellowed. "ANSFRID!"
She parted her lips to protest… then sighed. He glanced just the once over his shoulder as a griffin descended and landed before him. He mounted without a word. She watched his back, and for a brief moment as he turned, her stoic mask fell away completely and she regarded him in earnest.
He nodded... and then he and the griffin were gone, nothing but a wing-swept gust billowing the drifts behind them.
"Stay safe, sergeant," she murmured to the wind.
![[Image: 1qVSsTp.png]](http://i.imgur.com/1qVSsTp.png)
