Completed Spine soup

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor sighed, glancing to and fro, as the village came into view. He spoke after a moment of deliberation and silence.

"If I went across the world trying to fix prejudice and stupidity I'd be a poor and foolish man. Let him think what he wants about my people. But he can never deny that it was a Nordenfiir and a Templar who made sure a skinny Necromancer in a cave didn't royally fuck his town."

He trotted along with Rhi, as they neared the village. Already, people heard the footfalls of Arnor's large horse. Some had gathered outside already, swaddled against the cold.

He looked over at Ana, gesturing with a nudge of his head. He wanted her to take the credit for all of this. No point in him taking the glory when he had the money.

At least, that's what he told himself. But like everything he did, he had a more noble motivation behind a monetary one. For the most part, usually they paired up well.

 

[Anastasia]

Ana saw no reason in refusing the opportunity.

There no sense in modesty when it came to fixing Templar affairs.

No point in denying her part with blood sprayed across her face.

No ruffled feathers when the offer was willingly made.

There was only the pit in her stomach at acknowledging what she did. What it meant. And that somewhere out there, a family would grieve. But at least this town would be safe from harm.

The bulging eyes of a small face gaped up at her from it's parents' arm. She gave the child a tight smile and uttered, "You are all safe. We dealt with the necromancer and his horde. They are no threat to you now."

Ripples of relief echoed through the crowd, some blatant and others pinched behind a mask of skepticism that one good deed would not change. Ana's heart felt heavy at that, but all she could do was numbly accept it.

"Allow us one more night," she murmured, looking down from them all as she dismounted. "And then we'll leave you."

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Some of the crowd looked to Arnor. He nudged his head at the Templar.

"She said it." He slid off the horse as some of the town guard inspected the body. The undertaker came not soon after to bury the necromancer, as foul as he was.

It was some time later, that Arnor was able to secure a deal- one bath to clean, and one bath to enjoy. He was currently chest deep in the latter, large, long legs sticking out. Night had again fallen, and he hadn't seen the Templar since. Maybe he wouldn't again. Wouldn't blame her if she left.

A thought crept into his mind, and idle hands grasped the dark red braid of hair in woven into one of his braids. A curious sight, but most took it for a mutation of the bear people.

The fear of the Templar surprised him- but he never considered the implications that people who were not aware of the Nordenfiir could have. Or how much damage a bad Norden could cause. Was he a bad person? He leaned his head back in the cast iron tub, looking at the ceiling. Steam rose from the water, the occasional sound of someone moving around in the tavern the only sound he heard.

At the end of it all, the end of every job, this was how it was. Maybe at one point he enjoyed that. Payment and the promise of more work. The Spine was littered with the corpses of monsters and bandits, would-be prophets and rapists, all fell to the sword and axe of Arnor Skuldsson. But what else?

He rolled his fingers together, thinking for a long while- all by his lonesome in his lovely lilac bath.

 

[Anastasia]

Ana knocked softly on his door.

Shortly after their arrival a member of her travel party did find her. It was a bit of a relief to be back in contact with them. It surprised Ana how unpredictable and stressful going solo had been. There was something inherently comfortable about the hive mind proticals of the Templar.

She didn't know if this made her narrow minded or simply human. At least she always knew what to expect.

After a long trip back to the mine and the methodical burning of all the ghouls, Ana could finally consider the job done.

It would have been very Templar like to simply leave, and her men had expected her to do so. But she dismissed them back to their outside camp with the promise to join them shortly. She had one last loose end to see to.

"Arnor? Are you in there? ...I swear to Gods, if you're in the tub again..."

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"Swear to your hearts content."

He said, craning his neck to look down at the door. He watched her enter, his hand still resting idly near one of his swords, as always- propped against the iron of the tub.

"I thought you had gone with the other Templars. The people are happy to be rid of the undead. Consider the templars favored here." He said, leaning his head back.

"And how might a lowly sellsword help a mighty Templar?" He said idly, watching the ceiling once more.

 

[Anastasia]

Ana frowned, her arms crossing over her chest. She had been about to ask if he was alright, but his quipping phrase stuck something in her.

Her once amicable stance turned defensive for a moment, then tired the next.

"Oh, so I'm a Templar to you now?" She challenged softly, closing the door and leaning against the frame. From the distance, his modesty was maintained.

What was with him and tubs?

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"The actual arrival of other Templars burning bodies confirmed it."

He looked over at her, modesty maintained. He looked down at her from the ceiling, running a hand through his hair.

"And what am I to you?"

 

[Anastasia]

Ana watched on, her frown softening to subtle concern. Her brows remained furrowed, the candle light playing against her eyes. "An enigma," she answered honestly.

"But a good one." She hoped. She let silence slip between them for a moment, those lines as good as any to depart on.

She took a deep breath and pushed off the door frame. "Herath. That is where I am stationed. Send letter to my name for aid when the time comes. We'll take care of that horde for you." Not that she was sure why he needed it.

A small smile touched her lips, warmth swimming in her gaze. "Take care, Bearman."

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor sat still for a while. She was also an enigma to him, though he'd never admit it. Never admit a lot of things, not to her, not to anyone.

"You know- there are two baths- you would do well with a lengthy soak."

He looked at her for a while, a smile creeping up on his scarred lip. The scar that she gave him was stitched up by one of the townsfolk earlier.

"Or there's always just the one."

 

[Anastasia]

Ana laughed, the sound warm and genuine as she look over him from across the steam that rose from his water.

"Tempting, but I have a family waiting for me," she told him gently, not at all fluffing his ego to lessen the blow. A year ago Ana would have been absolutely flattered at Arnor's subtle attention for her. It wasn't often a gore splattered Templar found themselves painted in any desirable light.

But oh how the tables turn quickly. She readjusted her bag on her shoulders, gesturing to him.

"What about you, Arnor. Will you go back to your family now?" The sharp woman had not missed everything about him it seemed.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

The decline of the offer brought a smirk, a defeating smirk. Arnor sank into the tub, running a hand through his wet hair.

Then she asked about his family. Eyes dropped low, and his body language shifted. He became defensive and off putting to say the least. Normally soft eyes hardened.

The man who committed patricide, the man who ran away from home, the man who murdered his father had no interest in speaking to anyone about his family.

But Ana didn't deserve that truth, that hardship that Arnor left behind. But his face showed that more than his words could.

"None to speak of." He said coldly.

 

[Anastasia]

Ana stopped short, all small movements she had been making in preparation for leaving cutting off as she studying the man with obvious concern.

She didn't need the lines to be filled in here. She knew his merit, and that was enough. What she was more worried about was what would come next. After a moment, she found it in herself to speak again.

"Why don't you come with us, Arnor. We could always use more swords these days, and where there isn't money, there's ample company and supplies to spare."

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

He had to play the part. But the reality was that Arnor had no place playing the good man, the noble knight. The monster slayer, the do gooder. The noble intention. He was a mercenary. Sellsword. Monster hunter for coin.

Not Templar material.

Because deep down, Arnor didn't even believe he was a good person.

"No coin, no work." He hid behind his facade of gravitas and apathy. Ana could see through it like a thin veil. His eyes were the real him, a man scarred by his past. The thing he routinely ran from, and tried to bury with wine and women.

To no avail.

 

[Anastasia]

Her sadness shone through the small slump to her shoulders. Ana was a bleeding heart, but she knew the realities of the world. She couldn't save that necromancer anymore than she could force Arnor to take her offer.

Still, it didn't stop her from trying one more time.

"We take care of our own," she told him softly, her voice almost trepidatious in the way it tried to implore him. "... And there's women. Great, furious woman that could give you a run for your sword. Bet your coin couldn't buy you that."

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

There were only two things Arnor really wanted in the world. And he was looking at one of them.

"The only one I could wager worth anything is looking at me right now." He said with a sly grin. He leaned back in the tub, enjoying the hot water in all of its warmth and glory.

"Templars no place for a man like me." He wasn't religious, he wasn't even remotely close to a knight in shining armor. People were afraid of his kind. They'd never truly trust or come to like the Nordenfiir. Even in the Spine, where he spent years as a for hire problem solver, people did not want him to stay. They simply looked at him like a tool, or a freak.

"If you do leave now, I am certain fate will weave us together in its web once more."

 

[Anastasia]

A slight heat hit Ana's cheeks, the woman shifting in a poor attempt to hide the effects of his words.

"And if it does?" She challenged, griping the single straw he had left her with.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor thought for a long while, before he shifted in his bath, moving closer to her across the water.

"Then we will meet again and it will be a rather good day, won't it?" He said with a wry grin, his Svalen markings shifting as his cheeks pulled upwards.

 

[Anastasia]

Ana gave him a tight smile. The kind you hide emotions behind. "Well then," she concluded, pushing herself off the door frame.

"Until there, Bearman." She pulled open the door, letting out a heavy breath. "Stay safe." She slipped out, closing the door softly behind.

Not how she wanted to leave things, but...

She bit her lip, hovering in place for a moment outside the door. With a shake of her head, she left. Her people awaited.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

He heard her walk away, much to his dismay. And there he was again, like at the end of many of his adventures, alone. Flush with coin, but alone. He heard her footsteps, light and practiced, drift away.

And he was left to his own devices, once more. The Axe of Knottington, once again, watching someone who he grew to care about leave.

But he knew that it wasn't going to be the last time he saw Anastasia, no- just not as soon as he would've liked.