Private Tales The Monster and The Burning Heart

[Olvir]

Ollie listened intently, taking a sip of the wine as Zael gave a speech which he couldn't help but think had been practiced a time or two. A small smile forming on his lips.

The ambition within his new friends tone was admirable, and something he had never heard before. Ollie had met plenty of peasants of course. He'd spent more than a few nights in disreputable taverns, had servants he'd loved and cared for, met men and women who had little more than the shirts on their back.

Yet he'd never met anyone like Zael.

The only Dreadlords he'd ever known already either had their power, or were born into it. Alistair, Elias, and Houri were all noble born. Those that had served House Weiroon were...well they had never shared their ambitions with him.

It was startlingly refreshing to meet someone like the Initiate before him, and as Zael continued to speak Ollie couldn't help but grin. "Well then."

Ollie said as he held out the bottle to Zael.

"I look forward to your rise, Lord Castomir." He truly did. The Nobility needed people like Zael. Someone to break tradition, someone new. "May be it be swift, and last for the ages."

 

[Zael Castomir]

Zael lifted the bottle up high. Flashed a bright grin just as the convoy passed into the shadow cast by Vel Anir's mighty gates.

"I'll drink to that."

* * * * *​

Travel. Precursor to every mission. More or less went the same each time. Directions might be different (this time south to the Falwood Stone, north from the Allir Stone and close to the 'Sayve' River) and the weather might suck or might not. A little bit of both this time on the weather front.

The Allir Reach was rainy as fuck. Sarah (Zael finally got into the habit of calling her Sarah, and he was one step removed from calling her Auntie like some of the caravan hands) said it just happened to be the season. Well Vel Anir had a rainy season too and it wasn't drenched like this; guess they just so happened to catch the wettest part of it. There was a day—yeah, count it, one day—of full sunshine, unobstructed by clouds or nothing. Technically one and a half, because the next day at a lunch break stop the clouds had come back in and it rained again, but this time it was actually warm. It struck Zael on a flight of fancy then to strip down to nakedness and go zooming around camp with his arms stretched out like the wings of a bird, proclaiming, "I'M THE KING OF ALLIRIA!" much to the general amusement of the caravan personnel. He then motioned to Ollie to join in the silliness and shout whatever the hell came to mind into the rain by Kress the lad of a noble did it.

Sometimes Zael forgot that Ollie was even a noble. He sure didn't act like any of the ones he'd personally encountered (and Zael was iffy on counting Initiates who were nobles, that shit probably didn't qualify, right, they've never lived the life). Ollie was right down here, feet on the earth just like Zael. No high horse or nothing.

Zael'd have to remember that. If he reached for the stars and actually got one, became a Lord himself and all, he'd definitely have to remember where the hell he came from.

Be a lot like Ollie, you know?

* * * * *

GRISHINO​

"This is it? Looks kind of nice," Zael said cheekily.

Reminded Zael a lot of Elbion: same architecture, white buildings with red roofs and nice cobblestone roads. Clearings and fields surrounded the town, and there were farmers busy at work in them; they'd a moment of partly cloudy skies, though the air still smelled heavily of the fresh rain.

Sarah, Zael, and Ollie were all in the lead wagon today. Sarah just tittered and said, "Not quite our destination. Rostok lays just across the Sayve River. This," she said, sweeping her hand out toward the town, "is Grishino."

"Have you been here before? Sounds like you know the place."

She nodded, saying at pleasant length. "I~ have~. They do well for themselves here, as you can see." She sighed. "But, they've been rather bedeviled by Rostok for some time now; the thing there feeds on their nightmares, so it's said. Monster hunters have gone to Rostok hoping to slay it and have either failed to find it or never made it out."

"It's gonna be different this time," Zael said, grinning to Ollie and giving him a little elbow nudge.

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

What Ollie thought would be a painful and torturous journey fraught with boredom and long dragging hours actually turned out to be...fun.

Zael had a nature about him. An electric sort of draw that pulled in Ollie and even a few of the others in their caravan. Over the weeks of their travel they drank, played cards, talked long into the night. Before long the young Noble forgot all about why he had started on this trip and simply joined in on the fun.

It was almost like a haze.

His responsibility to House Weiroon was forgotten. All the strict and proper protocols thrown away as instead of the Noble Son of a Great House, Ollie simply became a friend.

When Zael went streaking through the Caravan, shouting his declaration of kingship, Ollie could only grin. His side near splitting with laughter as he was beckoned from his perch. Shirt tossed to the side as he clambered onto the nearest cart and shouted to the sky. "I'M THE GREATEST SWORDSMAN IN THE WORLD!"

A declaration which earned him naught but a few chuckles and a single scoff within his head.

The joy of that, the new friendship he had found and the simple joy of getting to be himself carried through to the day they arrived at Grishino.

Sitting behind Zael and Sarah, sword leaning against his shoulder Ollie wore a smile as they entered the small town. His eyes drew over the buildings, watching as Sarah explained how the city had slowly begun to suffer the effects from whatever it was that dwelled in Rostok.

"It will be." Ollie greed, swaying slightly from Zael's nudge. "Though, I think we should try to learn a little more before going ahead."

The Noble said. "Maybe ask around tonight."

His father had set this thing in motion, but they'd had little more than rumor and stories to go on. He doubted that they would find more than that here, but at least they wouldn't be obscured by a thousand miles of retelling.

 

[Zael Castomir]

Sarah gave Ollie a few genial pats on the back. "You stole the words right out of my mouth! That was precisely the plan."

"These Grishino—" Zael paused, puzzled. "Grishinoers? Grishinoans? Grishies?"

Sarah giggled, a sound that was pure class and warmth coming from her, and said, "'Grishan' is what they prefer, but I think some of the lads your age would very much appreciate the humor of being 'Grishies.'"

"Right. Grishies." He smirked and continued, "These Grishies probably have a lot of stories about all these other attempts."

"And equipment," said Sarah. "For us and everyone else."

"Everyone else?"

Sarah, pleasant smile unconcerned, looked to Zael and Ollie and said, "Oh. Yes. Word from my sources. We're going to have some 'colleagues' going into Rostok as well."

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

An eyebrow perked for a brief moment as Sarah mentioned 'everyone else'. "Treasure hunters?"

He asked dubiously.

There had been no doubt in his mind from the beginning of the journey that they would likely meet others after what was in Rostok. After all if his father had been duped, there were likely a dozen other wealth merchants who would happily fund others to hunt what lay within the city.

Not to mention those who would be enterprising enough in their own right to get what inside.

"I think it might be best if you and Trik gather the equipment we need." Ollie suggested. Knowing his bodyguard was more than eager to stretch his legs. "Zael and I can hunt down some rumors."

 

[Zael Castomir]

"Oh yes. Treasure hunters, monster hunters, solo-types most certainly," said Sarah. "What I heard through my own grapevine were the bigger groups, organized like ours. We've got some Elbion College folk, though I don't think that's much of a surprise; a rich and adventurous Allirian who's hired local mercenaries; oh, and ogres from Tyr, led by a thoroughly entrepreneurial goblin who—what's wrong, Zael?"

Damn, he wore his apprehension on his face for that one. "I don't like ogres," he said. "Got somethin of a bad history with em."

Yeah, he welcomed Ollie's interjection there. He pushed Vel Janix out of his mind.

"Absolutely, Ollie," Sarah said. "I'll also get our ferry across the Sayve sorted. I imagine it might be crowded though with all the rest of the parties. Not many Grishans want to even go close to Rostok."

"Well, if we bump into any of these other parties out on the town we'll make friends with em," Zael said, glancing over to Ollie. Or try to, in the case of the Tyr ogres.

The caravan rolled into the gates of Grishino then. Those really were modest walls, weren't they? This "Stalker of Minds" harassing them must be the most eventful thing to ever happen in a Grishy's life, let alone all this attention from foreigners descending on their fair town.

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Ollie frowned for a moment as he listened to Sarah's descriptions. His brow furrowing as she mentioned Elbion College, and then suddenly raising as she spoke of Tyr.

Despite being a noble, worldly and educated, he had really only ever heard of the City once. Long ago Weiroon had traded with them, though the distance had made it an exceedingly rare thing. All he could really remember about the place was that it was famous for it's metals. Though something else sat forgotten in the back of his mind.

He glanced sideways at Zael for a moment, not quite understanding his issues with Ogres, but deciding it was probably better not to press. "Of course we will."

Ollie said with a smile, hoping to reassure the Initiate with a quick jab to his arm. He wondered if Elspeth would be displeased if he picked up that habit.

Shaking the thought, Olvir turned his attention to the town around them.

He watched the faces of those around him, noting that Sarah had absolutely been right. He saw the townsfolk first of course, somewhat hunched and exhausted looking, but strewn throughout them were mercenaries and adventurers plenty. They were easy to pick out, in leathers or chainmail, carrying swords and other weapons.

The Caravan came to a stop just outside the market square, Olvir hauling himself from his seat and throwing himself over the side of the wagon.

"Right, meet back here in a few hours?" He asked.

 

[Zael Castomir]

To Zael, nothing was quite as invigorating as a little physical affection. Ollie bopped him one in the arm and it immediately brought a grin to his face. If an ogre walked up to them right now Zael would've shook his hand, picked him up, and overhead pressed him—a friendly little how-do-ya-do if ever there was one.

He hopped down at Ollie in the market square. His armor he had off and stored on the wagons (best part of traveling aboard a vehicle, wasn't it?), and so landed lightly on his feet.

"That works fine for me. I'll even have nice accommodations purchased by then," Sarah said from the lead wagon. And with a sly smile and a wink she said, "Don't get into too much trouble, boys."

"Oh never," Zael said, his tongue literally stuck into the side of his cheek.

He gave a small wave and turned and it was off into the moderately busy market square with Ollie. Grishino really was an orderly and well-put-together place. Aside from the plenty of haggard looking people trudging around with visible bags under their eyes. All of the newest stalls among the market were dedicated to various folk remedies either to help with sleep or to supposedly keep the Stalker of Minds away. One man was seriously hawking his own ward against the Stalker's nightmares: a fresh tilapia, which you were supposed to no shit lay over your forehead right before you went to sleep (he swore it worked for an uncle).

"Hell of a place we got here," Zael said. And then, "You thinkin what I'm thinkin?"

Why, the local Grishy taverns of course.

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

"I'm more than willing to bet." Ollie answered, his eyes flickering over the various buildings surrounding them.

His search was quick to find fruit as the Noble spotted the classic hanging sign of a tavern. Upon it was painted what looked to be a stag, though in it's hoof was a large mug of ale, and pink colored the creatures cheeks as though it were drunk.

Ollie pointed it out to Zael, and quickly the two of them made their way through the crowd.

Before long the two Anirians found themselves stepping through the door, greeting with the scent of cheap tobacco and even cheaper ale. A bit of music was being played by a minstrel in the corner, and almost every table inside was occupied with adventurers, mercenaries, and one very large and strangely grayish ogre.

A frown touched Ollie's features, having always thought that Ogre's were brown. Yet instead of focusing on that he threw his arm around Zael, steering him immediately away from the common room and towards the bar. Not wanting his new friend to trouble himself over the gray hulk.

"Welcome lads to the Drunken Stag! What can I get ya? Ye with some of the crew new in town?"​

The Innkeep said, a wide grin on his face, and no wonder for it, business was booming. Ollie reckoned he was probably the only one in town sleeping well.

 

[Zael Castomir]

Fuckin ogres.

But Zael was ushered in the other direction, and, yeah, he had to admit, that was all for the better (and he didn't mind the physicality from Ollie at all, he loved to see it). Gray-skinned or fair-skinned, Zael didn't want to look at that ogre overlong and start thinking back to Vel Janix. He'd make peace with it one day, get past it. But today was not yet that day.

"I'm all for some ale," Zael said to the Innkeep. It was indeed plain to see that he was one of the lucky ones out of all the Grishies who didn't have bags under his eyes. "And don't worry, you'll be hearin about us soon enough. Right when we come back with the Stalker's head."

The Innkeep bellowed some laughter. "That's what they all say! And you know what, every time, I say right back: 'Good luck, friend. You'll need it.'"

"Don't need luck when you got skill, good looks, and a big dick."

The Innkeep had another round of jolly laughter. "Got a high appreciation of yourself, eh?"

"Me? I was talkin about my friend here, Ollie," Zael said, grinning and giving Olvir a hearty clap on the back.

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Ollie let out a guffaw, his head shaking as he briefly pinched the bridge of his nose. "Kress, remind me to give you some etiquette lessons."

He couldn't help but grin wide. Wondering what in the hell Elspeth would think if she heard such talk.

"Otherwise Lord Castomir is never going to find a Lady to marry." Though the Republic had come, laws of decorum and etiquette still remained among the nobility. Talk like Zael's would get one thrown out of the Golden Rose, not to mention a potential suitress' home.

"I err...Wha?"​

The Innkeeper asked, a turn of confusion on his face. "Don't worry about it."

Ollie said, using his free hand to reach into his pocket and dig around for a moment. A second later an Allirian Crown was fished forth, slapped onto the bar between the three of them. The wide grin still planted on his face as he continued.

"We're looking for some information." He told the man. "Rumors, stories, a few details about our query across the river."

He slid the coin towards the other man. "You can share, and keep whats left after we pay for the ales."

 

[Zael Castomir]

"Consider me a work in progress," Zael said affably of those potential etiquette lessons. And to top it off he posed like some of the classical statues from the Age of Expansion (not that he'd seen one in person, but there were artists' depictions of them sure), flexing his arms grandly in the process.

Finding a nice Lady to marry. Lady or not, Zael hadn't given any real thought to the whole idea of marriage (the Academy left little room for anything other than worrying how to survive till tomorrow, at least until recently). But look at Ollie here! Maybe a year or two older than himself, Zael guessed, and already betrothed. Nobles had a way of staying a few steps ahead in the game of life, didn't they?

Before the Innkeep slid the coin across the bar and into his pocket, Zael got a fleeting look at it. Huh. Never seen any crown like it.

"It's a hell of a monster, I can tell you that," said the Innkeep. "Do you know just how many professional monster hunters have come through Grishino? I'm not talking about some upstart youths like yourselves—no offense, but you both look the part and I've seen plenty of 'em. I'm talking about men and women of all races geared to the teeth with stuff you've never seen the likes of before. They go to Rostok. They find disappointment or death."

"How long has that thing been there?"

"Years," the Innkeep said, maybe having told this tale hundreds of times but seemingly never having gotten tired of it. He had a flair for storytelling though so it fit well. "You want this honest man's opinion? No mindless, bloodthirsty monster survives that long with this amount of hunters going after it. That thing is smart. It's like it knows when there's hunters coming, and knows who to avoid and who to...well, you know."

He looked to Ollie, eager and receptive for more questions to fuel his storytelling flame.

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Ollie listened attentively as the Innkeep began to describe their foe, a slight frown plucking deeper at his lips with every passing word.

What the man said was...troubling. They had known the monster would be here, but the idea that it was actually smart enough to predict hunters was certainly concerning. Yet at the same time there was opportunity there.

If it was intelligent enough to try and predict it's foes, it also meant it was smart enough to be fooled. They would just have to find the right method. "Has anyone ever returned from across the river?"

Sarah had said there hadn't, but it was worth asking. Her information was likely a few months out of date.

Before the Innkeep even had a chance to answer Ollie continued.

"We've been told the thing stalks through dreams. What does it do in them?" He asked, quickly pressing. "Is it the same dream for everyone? Does it change nightly?"

If they were going to face this thing, they needed to understand it. If there was any sort of pattern the creature followed, Ollie wanted to know it. That was the only way they would win.

 

[Zael Castomir]

"Plenty have," confirmed the Innkeep. "All those big time monster hunters and the like. You know, the ones the Stalker somehow knows to avoid. Heh, funny story. There was one of these monster hunters, this Light mage, weird lady, fanatical and shy at the same time if you can believe it; blondie like you," this to Zael, "but with one good blue eye. Oh, and pretty big..."

He cupped his hands in front of his chest, mimicking the size with rounded motions. For some reason the Innkeep had found it necessary to add this detail.

"Laz-something was her name. Anyway, she was one of those that came back disappointed. Never saw the Stalker. She was so broken up about it that she stayed in Grishino for months, offering to kill any other monsters for miles around. Called it recompense. And damn, let me tell you, even the nightmares backed off tremendously while she was in town. So she eventually got the nickname 'Dreamcatcher.' Isn't that something?"

"Can't promise we'll do any dream catchin, but we'll do you one better and slay the source."

"And best of luck to you."

We've been told the thing stalks through dreams...does it change nightly?

The Innkeep tapped a finger to his chin. "Hmm. You know, now that you've got me thinking about it, not a whole lot of people actually share what their nightmares are about. But from the ones that do tell, it isn't the same dream for everyone, and it does change. See, it's tailored to the person. The Stalker seems to...uh...invade, I guess is the best word, your dreams. Turns your own worst fears against you in an endless number of ways. I mean, you can imagine that's something hard for people to tell."

"You're lookin pretty good though," Zael said. "No nightmares for you?"

"I'm an upstanding man," the Innkeep said, giving out a guffaw. "And I use one of Paul's tilapias every night! People call him a fool, but I say it works!"

Zael couldn't help but snicker. The fucking fish-guy merchant.

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Ollie frowned for a moment, slowly sifting through all the information the Innkeep laid out.

At least they now knew that not everyone who went into Rostok turned up dead. That was at least a small positive, perhaps if worst came to worst they could stick their tails between their legs and get the fuck out of there.

Small victory. "The Dreamcatcher."

Ollie figured that anyone, or anything that could keep some of the nightmares at bay was probably a good step forward. If this woman had warded off at least some of the creatures magic, perhaps she could somehow be of assistance.

"Any clue where she went?" The Innkeep had made it sound like she was departed, but perhaps they could send word.

Other than that, Ollie didn't have much else of a clue. At least from what the man across the bar had divulged. They would have to ask around some more, or perhaps try to find someone else who had returned from the other side of the river.

Behind them, unnoticed, a man seemed to shift and lean closer.

 

[Zael Castomir]

The Innkeep shrugged. "You know how it is with those loner, adventurer types. She could be anywhere on Arethil for all I know." With a little smack on his palm on the bar, the Innkeep said, "Let me get you those ales."

Off he went to fetch a couple of clean tankards from the back wall.

"Alright, seems simple enough to me," Zael said to Ollie. "We strap a couple of those tilapias to our foreheads and go in."

Zael snickered again. Folk remedies were something else. Arethil was replete with all kinds of useful herbs and natural reagents that could be combined with an alchemist's skill into wondrous poultices and potions, but somehow, like blades of grass growing through the cracks in an otherwise pristine cobblestone road, those folksy remedies always found a way through. Tarrow had a couple of its own from what Zael could remember...they didn't work.

"If we're lucky, maybe we can catch one of those disappointed solo monster hunters comin back from across the Sayve. And I'm sure he'd love to vent his vexation all over our gorgeous faces."

The man behind them indeed went unnoticed.

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

"If we're lucky." Olvir said, a bit of glumness stuck to his voice.

In truth they hadn't been looking for long, but from what the Innkeep had told them Ollie wasn't feeling all too positive. Though they had a few more morsels of knowledge about what awaited them, nothing really helped.

He shouldn't have expected any different.

It was doubtful that any sort of secret to the Monster across the river existed, just as it was doubtful that this entire mission would succeed. There was a reason he had been so resistent to coming here, and as pleasant as their journey had been...he still couldn't help but feel this whole thing would end in disaster.

Just as he had told his father. "Is it always this way?"

Ollie asked Zael.

"Running in with half the information you need?' His head shook. "Just expected to get, something done?"

 

[Zael Castomir]

Ale came their way, and Zael picked up his tankard and downed a good gulp of it.

"Yeah, this is the best you can get, it's great," said Zael. "Maybe it isn't the case for some other Initiates, maybe they found a golden fuckin goose and landed themselves a mission or two where everythin was nice and tidy, but in my experience?"

Another drink.

"Gotta think on your feet."

He laughed a little. "I thought I landed a golden goose when you came struttin up to Sarah with your big friend Trik. She said your last name and I thought to myself: man, this is gonna be cake, your family's gonna have it all sorted. Not like they would willin'ly throw you to the wolves, would they?"

He smirked, knowing exactly what Olvir had said of his father and his tender mercies. But sometimes you just had to learn how to laugh in the face of fate. Misfortune hated one thing and one thing only: not being taken seriously.

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Olvir let out a scoff. "That just shows your ignorance of the nobility, my friend."

His head shook as he brought the ale to his lips, taking a small sip and finding the taste to be a rather pleasant surprise.

"Past the first born, we're almost as expendable as you." That wasn't entirely true of course, especially now. The Republic had taken over and allowed for quite a bit change, but old ways died hard. Within the Great Houses much still stayed the same.

Aisling was in charge of House Weiroon now, and yet here he was; Out in the middle of fuck nowhere hunting treasure because of the whim of a deluded drunkard.

"So, next step." He mused. "We find the local priest? Track down one of those returning hunters?"

Zael had already suggested the latter. "Get drunk and see what digs itself out of the local ruffians?"

At least that would be more enjoyable.

 

[Zael Castomir]

Ah, Zael should've smirked bigger. Olvir took him right at his literal word. Despite him meaning it to be a sarcastic jab at Ollie's temperamental dad, Ollie did say something which did reveal Zael's ignorance (hey, fair was fair) of the nobility. Past the first born, we're almost as expendable as you. Zael's brows rose and his lips puckered out as he nodded slowly.

Goddamn, it was a shame. You'd think all that emphasis noble put on family (or at least as much as they showed publicly) that it wouldn't be the case. But who else would know better than Ollie?

Plans for the next step.

Zael drained his tankard down to half and set it down and said, "How bout we say hi to those folks from Elbion? I've had a few good run-ins with Elbion students myself. Maybe they'll even remember me from the Festival of Fiery Skies."

Were they technically competitors for the Burning Heart? Sure, probably, yeah. But, if Zael had to guess, those Elbioners had probably hunkered down here in Grishino for a whole month now, studying and preparing for every little possible thing before they figured it was time to set off for Rostok. They might know something.

"They might know somethin," he said, speaking his very thought aloud. "And we can grease those wheels with a few friendly drinks. Heh, get them a little drunk and see what we can dig outta em."

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Elbion. That seemed like a good idea. Olvir knew preciously little about the College, but he did know quite a bit about the city itself.

Weiroon did business with several merchants in Elbion. Not that it would likely help now.

"Sounds better than some of the other options." Ollie admitted, turning around and leaning against the bar. His gaze swept over the tavern, a frown pulling at his lips. "Which one do you think they are?"

The tavern was practically packed to the brim with people.

Near every table was occupied, and most of them by less than savory looking folk. Cuthroats, mercenaries, men of the watch, likely some thieves, and of course the Ogre. None of them looked much like what Ollie would have judged as a student.

"You lookin' for the kids from Elbion?"​

The Innkeeper said, having apparently been eavesdropping on their conversation.

"They mostly stay clear of the common room, don't like mixin with the rabble. Simon does come down and collect their dinner though."​

 

[Zael Castomir]

Zael had a gander over the Drunken Stag's patrons, sipping at his ale as he did. Didn't take all that long to figure out the common room was devoid of the earnest pursuers of higher knowledge, so to speak. Just a quick inventory of faces, eyes, the whole composure of these men and few ladies, all that spoke to a certain hardness and life experience, yeah, that was enough to know no students were down here. The selection of students Zael saw? Good people, sure, but the coziness of the College had them leaning toward the softer side.

Before Zael could make some suggestions, the Innkeep cut in. Hey, just what they needed. A little extra tip of insight.

"Well," Zael looked Ollie's way, "no need to wait until dinner. Let's go upstairs and say hi to Simon, eh?"

If this Simon guy, or any of his Collegiate companions, had been at the Festival of Fiery Skies Ball, now that'd be a real treat.

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Ollie tipped his head in a nod, debating if they had perhaps gotten a bit too close to the Inkeeper.

In his experience it was never good when someone knew all of your business, and the man behind the bar certainly knew Ollie and Zael's. A frown pulled at his lips, and he shook his head as he decided he was just being paranoid.

A mark of who had raised him. "I think that'd be best."

He said, smacking Zael on the shoulder.

"Wouldn't want Simon missing out on such great companionship." Ollie flashed a smile, and then gently pushed the Dreadlord forward. Before long the two of them crossed the common room, passing by half a dozen tables. Including the one with the man who had been watching them.

Shortly after they climbed the steps, finding themselves at the top of the landing. "Which room was it agai-"

"Herrim you fool! Don't you know what that could do?!"​

A shout echoed from the fall room.

"Summoning the damn thing to your dreams is like asking for a wolf to come into your pantry!"​

Ollie glanced over towards Zael as the voices continued through the reed thin doors.

 

[Zael Castomir]

That was the spirit! Everybody at the Academy always took Zael's physical method of affection as either outright hostile and/or an invitation to fight. He certainly didn't mind the latter (and it was almost something of a vicious circle there, huh) but damn if his fellow Initiates just didn't get it.

Ollie got it, though.

Almost had a problem with the room, the Innkeep didn't exactly say which one, but somebody named Herrim fucked up just in time to solve their problem. These doors though, Kress. The Drunken Stag cut some corners there, didn't they?

"Don't bring a girl here or everyone's gonna know your business," Zael remarked. Then with a sly look sideways to Ollie. "Unless you're into that."

On the opposite end of Sieglilly's voyeurism was exhibitionism. And Zael know at least one special somebody back at the Academy who was that.

He jerked his head toward the door. Made his way down to it.

And knocked loudly. "Hey. It's the wolf. I heard there's a pantry in here."

Olvir

 

[Olvir]

"I wouldn't bring my girl here if you paid me." Ollie remarked dryly. Internally dreading what kind of headlines would print if he and Elspeth were seen in such a place. The Anirian Sun would print it on the front page, and then not sooner after Doran Sirl would likely have him killed.

Suppressing a shudder, Olvir tagged along Zael's side. Taking up position besides the Initiate as Zael loudly made his declaration.

Behind the reed like door one could hear a yelp of surprise, as though someone had just been bitten. Whispers quickly followed, though the panic in them made it loud enough to hear.

"What the hell?"

"Did you already do the ritual?

"No! The thing wouldn't come to our door! That doesn't make any sense you idiot."​

Ollie looked at Zael, some amusement flickering over his features as steps rang out behind the door. Seconds later with a loud creaking of hinges one of the students beyond revealed himself. He was an Elf, or at least his ears were pointy like ones, though his hair was brown, and his features were slightly more...angular than Ollie expected of the fair folk.

If the Noble had to guess, he was a bit older than both Zael and Ollie.

"Who the hell are you?"​

The student demanded, and Ollie only smiled. "Your new best friends."

He declared, much to the Elf's confusion.