Private Tales There and Back Again

[Faurosk]

"Three corners on that hat of yours, and not one of them shades your face," the wizard chided. With a shake of his head and two clicks from his tongue, he channeled every ounce of the 'sassy professor' persona that the past years had wrung out of him. "Besides, why would I want to stop your freckles? They're... Charming." As soon as the line of questioning turned back his way, it was Faurosk's turn to grimace.

"It went-- Well, not terribly well. Apparently, one of "m'lords" got caught up in his revelry. Drank the half the cellar dry and shattered a bust some few centuries old." The very thought sent a shudder up his back, surfacing memories of the past day's work that he'd been prepared to forget. "Nobody could tell me what the bastard looked like before his visage met the ground and promptly shattered, but they could certainly tell me when a piece was slightly misaligned, just a bit out of proportion."

With one last finger-waggling shudder, he let the subject drop. With an arch of his eyebrow and a drop in his volume, he continued.

"I got the payment I was due. That's what matters. Then again, you're not looking for work, are you? An assistant with fingers deft as yours, I'm sure we could double our profits with all the clutter you could pinch." The concept is weighed, considered, and dismissed. No, neither of them would benefit from earning a high-merchant's ire.

 

[Rainie]

At his implied suggestion, Rainie's eyes widened with delight. Who would have thought, sweet Faurosk encouraging her talent for pilfering rich folks of their treasures. Their time apart had made him bolder, in more ways than one. Still slightly flushed from his compliment of her (hated) freckles, she laughed quietly behind one hand.

"I'm quite busy these days, I'm afraid." She dismissed with a wave and a sigh. "Sailing is wonderful, everything I'd imagined, and also vastly more work than I'd expected," she said with a shrug. Her gaze drifted into the middle distance for a moment, thinking. "Hmm, I'm due back there soon, within a day or two at most. I think they may actually leave without me this time, should things get... complicated." Her lips pursed as she remembered the nonsense with that navy Muirin had been worrying about the past few months.

It was then that a young man in an apron wandered by their table, and Rainie happened to catch his eye. The pirate perked up from where she was leaning on the table, sending the boy a polite smile and wordlessly beckoning him closer with a casual crook of her finger. He hesitated for but a moment before coming over, wiping his fingers with a rag before tossing it back over his shoulder.

"Erm, can I get you anything?" Said the young man, looking between the two of them.

"Yes, please," Rainie purred, smiling. "Just something to eat, and..." she thought for a moment, "and a bottle of wine, please." Not her usual fare, as she preferred whiskey, but it was only just past noon. No need to get sloshed before dinner.

The man nodded hastily, then asked, "Any, uh, preference? ...For the wine."

She tapped her chin thoughtfully and looked to Faurosk. "How do you feel about red? Ooh, or perhaps a rosé..." It had been some time since she'd had any half-decent wine. Pirates were all about their rum, spirits, and ale.

 

[Faurosk]

The man across from her did not consider the pressure of foreign navies. He didn't even consider the time it would take her to walk back to the portal stone she'd come in through. Instead, Faurosk briefly entertained the thought of tagging along to learn the ropes of piracy. Thankfully, that flight of fancy was cut short by the youthful waiter, and the wizard put up a forced smile once he was asked for his opinion.

"Two bowls of whatever's cooking, two glasses, and a bottle of rosé," he decided without further deliberation. If the drink wasn't going to be in either of their preferences, there's hardly a reason not to pick something sweeter. Dismissing the waiter with a kindly wave, Rainie felt the weight of his attention settle on her once more. Eyebrows furrowed, his lips pursed over a question he couldn't quite phrase, he relaxed back against his chair.

"Once more unto the breach, then?" A smile played across his face before quirking into something lopsided. "If you have any business to handle here in Alliria, you'd best get to it."

 

[Rainie]

Nodding once to the waiter after his dismissal, Rainie returned her attention to the wizard across from her. She wondered at his thoughtful look, but was swiftly distracted.

"More like business I'm avoiding," she muttered drolly, recalling old guildmates and a contract that fell through. Rainie leaned forward on the table once more, now cupping her throat with her right hand as the other tapped out an idle rhythm on the wooden tabletop.

"I'm in no rush, really," she assured him. "If anything, these past few days have taught me the importance of time." She sent him a look that held a certain amount of significance and intensity, but the expression faded fairly quickly. Briefly, she entertained the idea of inviting Faurosk to come with her back to the ship, but dismissed it just as quickly. It was selfish of her, considering taking him away from whatever his next adventure was to come travel with her once more. She didn't get to make that request, not after vanishing for several years. Also, her first mate may kill her, or at the very least throw her overboard.

"Although!" She interjected after a pause. "My father asked me to rid the house of a few of my mother's old things. Would your darling mother be interested in a few bolts of fabric? Papa has a whole stack of them piled on my brother's old bed and wants nothing to do with them." Her tone was light, and casual, despite the subject matter.

 

[Faurosk]

Eyebrows raised at the offer, but he was quick to accept with a nod. "She'll put it to use. I appreciate it, Rainie." Smiling kindly, he set a hand at his hip. A single gloved finger glided across the seam of a pouch, now sealed. She'd been terribly generous, and the thought narrowed his eyes for all of a moment. The tension dropped only a half second later, and his expression dawned into a wordless grin once more.

Sitting forward, his elbows perched on the table's edge, fingers steepling above. "So you need to get back, and avoid attention in the meantime... We haven't done a great job of keeping out of sight, have we?" What started as a dramatic sigh cracked into a quiet laugh. "I could surely create a disguise for us, some transmogrification or another. You don't mind risking a limb or two, do you?"

 

[Rainie]

At that, Rainie gave a hearty laugh. "Why do I have the inkling that you'll give me a hook hand and a peg leg?" She laughed some more, hiding her smiling mouth with her previously-tapping hand. Returning her fingers to the tabletop, this time tracing the whorls in the wood, she hummed a melodic sigh. "I am not too worried. It has been many years since I caused any trouble here, and I daresay they've likely forgotten me by now." Which was an empty hope, but hope all the same. Rainie was ultimately an optimist, despite everything that she'd encountered in her life.

"So it's decided, I'll bring over the bolts of cloth either this evening or tomorrow morning," she determined with a nod to herself. Then she hummed again, this time thoughtfully. "Your mother doesn't seem to type to accept charity, huh? Do you have any advice on how to best deliver it?" At this question, she looked quite serious. Mrs. Drewry's favor was, obviously, quite important to her.

 

[Faurosk]

A peg leg and a hook for a hand? That thought brought a smile to Faurosk's face, but he dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. "No, no... All magic has a price, see. If we're trying to make you look bland and forgettable- a formidable spell, indeed -I'm afraid an arm and a leg won't cover the cost." He squinted at Rainie for a protracted moment, then winked and covered his eye. "Throw in half your sight and don a patch, then maybe we can talk."

Dropping the subject with a heartfelt laugh, he laid his palms and logic bare across the table. "My mother... She's a woman of exchange. Tell her I offered you a silver piece for the lot of it, and you talked me up to two." The wizard tapped his temple twice, smirking conspiratorially. "She'll know I got a good price, and better still, she'll see you were clever enough to double it on me. How's that?"

 

[Rainie]

Rainie's lavender eyes squinted across the table at her wizard, her eyes crinkling with her smile. The corners of her eyes had new crow's feet when she did so. "She charged me two silver pennies for a dress," she pointed out laughingly. "She'll never believe I'd take less than that for the fabric I'm, ehm, 'selling.' There's a lot of it." She chuckled again, forgetting to hide her smiling mouth this time. Instead, her hand found his gloved one and trailed absent patterns over it. "I'll make up something convincing, though. Thank you for the help." She smiled, drawing a loop on the back of Faurosk's hand.

"Mm, by the way," she began conversationally. "Did you know, p- sailors don't usually wear eye patches because they've actually lost an eye? Rather, they wear them to switch between their light to dark vision while traversing above deck to below deck?" Her doodling hand came up to illustrate swapping a patch from eye to eye, then returned to its previous place. "I've found that tinted glasses help me the most, in that regard. It takes ages for my eyes to adjust to the light." Distractedly, her wandering finger drew a meandering line over Faurosk's knuckles.

 

[Faurosk]

Faurosk inclined his head, looking along his nose to the instumentalist across from him. It was quite a haughty look he donned, and it channeled the image of a perturbed merchant rather well. "Are you saying my mother's handiwork wasn't worth two pennies, silver as they may be? Or was it perhaps that my fitting isn't up to your standards, seeing as it was tailored precisely to every curve and bone in your body?"

The charade fell apart with a shake of his head and an honest laugh. "No, no, you're right. You know the trades and prices far better than I do... And the anatomical tricks of sailors too, or so it seems." Tinted glasses, now there's a concept! If he could transmute hues into glass and find a trained cutter--

Of course, that plan would require learning the alchemical composition of glass, its shades, its hues, the physical properties of all three... The mage huffed out another laugh, shaking the thought from his head.

"What's this about, then?" His attention turned downward to where Rainie's fingers took a walk across his knuckles. He raised his hand from the table, carefully turning it in time with her meandering such that her hand walked right into his palm- A trap, of course, as he attempted to snatch her intruding digits between his own thumb and forefinger.

 

[Rainie]

The pirate made an inquiring sound and looked down, following Faurosk's gaze to their hands. "Oh, sorry," She apologized breezily. "You know what they say about idle hands." She eyed his upturned palm for all of a second before deciding, ah, he must want to hold her hand. Without a care in the world, she placed her smaller hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

Pleased smile on her face, she returned her attention upwards and lobbed a question his way. "So, what shall your next adventure be, then?" She wondered. "Although, you're running out of icy wastelands to have adventures in, I'm afraid. You might be overdue for something warmer."

 

[Faurosk]

Plans can backfire from time to time. That much is spelled out in the very blood of the universe; Anything that can go wrong, might go wrong. But Faurosk had not planned on this. His eyes tried to bore a hole through the back of Rainie's hand without success.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. The possibilities hit him like a gale, and he found himself blinking at the imagined stimuli. "I keep having this silly thought about stealing you away, fleeing across the Reach. Just the two of us. Like walking those roads will bring back the years."

He shook his head, and the motion carried down his whole body. First as a shrug, then a shudder. His hand didn't retreat from hers, though. "I don't know." Those words came again. A sigh followed them, then another thought: "Your type of sailing probably isn't in my nature."

 

[Rainie]

A sad sigh turned into an airy laugh at the mention of sailing. "I am finding it very difficult to picture you on a ship. Do you think you-" She stopped short, the meaning of everything he'd said sinking in rather belatedly.

What was it? Not that he wanted to steal away by himself, but that he wanted to steal her away. Well. That was... something.

And then she had a thought. An incredibly reckless, foolhardy idea. But it was there, now, in her brain. And she couldn't quite get it out of her head. And damn it if it wasn't all Faurosk's fault.

Her pause passed in a blink, and she cleared her throat almost in apology. "Well, I'd hope you wouldn't get sea sickness. That would be embarrassing for an Allirian." She sent him a teasing smile that was only slightly thinner than normal.

"I wouldn't worry about not having a plan for what is next. Perhaps that is stating the obvious, coming from me." With a laugh, she shrugged her bare shoulders helplessly. That was Rainie to a T, not planning a single step and still moving forward... or perhaps not forward, but.... definitely in some direction. Often that movement was rapid and with abandon.

"Anyways, perhaps your purpose will arrive soon. Your next adventure surely awaits, perhaps even impatiently." Absently, her thumb caressed the back of the fingers in her grasp, like she wasn't even thinking about it.

 

[Faurosk]

National pride came collapsing inward, drawing a groan from the mage that sent his shoulders arching forward and inward- As though a stooped posture could protect him from the shame! "I'm more Elbion than Alliria at this point," he realized aloud.

"Guh--" It was the only sound that could ever follow such a thing. Then, with a wrinkle in his nose and a stern shake of his head, he concluded, "I'd better be neither, at that rate. I hope you and I can still be friends."

Faurosk propped an elbow on his side of the table, first raising to support his face as he considered Rainie's advice. "If you're proposing that I should adopt your methods, I think the whole world ought to be afraid."

Take a directionless wizard and give him motivation in what-so-ever-way he's facing? That sounds like half the cautionary tales out there, wrapped up in a nice, succinct bow. "No, I do my best work when there's something tethering me. Whether a goal, or a leash..." A furrow ran between his eyebrows, drawn together in thought. "Come to think of it, those two often go hand in hand, don't they?"

Before that thought could spiral, the hand-holding, gaze-meeting, longing-looking pair of regular old chums were interrupted by their youthful waiter's return. With two bowls of a savory soup balanced precariously in one hand and a pair of wine glasses clutched in the other, he looked like a disaster waiting to happen.

Faurosk withdrew his hand from Rainie's, giving their server plenty of room to lay down his burden. Still, the mage leaned to one side, giving his bard a tight-lipped and thoroughly apologetic smile.

 

[Rainie]

At the arrival of the waiter and the subsequent withdrawal of her wizard's closeness, Rainie sat up straight and sighed. Closing her eyes briefly, she reminded herself the coquettish banter only worked on some people. Others required a more direct approach.

Pasting on a polite smile, she reached out to take the wine glasses, muttering some nonsense about being careful and bidding him to let her help him. Between her setting the empty glasses on the table and the young man trying to fumble the bowls of food, disaster struck. The wine bottle, previously tucked under the waiter's arm, fell from it's precarious clutch between his arm and torso.

Lurching forward, Rainie's hand shot out and snatched it deftly by the neck before it hit the floor.

"Oh, dear," she blurted in surprise. "That was close."

The poor waiter began stuttering out several apologies, which Rainie laughed off, waving her hand dismissively. The bottle itself would have likely been fine; glass was sturdier stuff than most people gave it credit for. Once she'd finally soothed the young man, and he'd taken his embarrassed and hasty leave after ensuring that the two of them truly had everything they needed, she heaved a sigh of relief.

Turning back to her oldest and dearest friend, she sent him a rueful smile. "Hm. Well." She smoothed a napkin over her skirt and went about pouring them both a glass of wine. "What was that about a leash, then?"

 

[Faurosk]

Sometimes, all you can do is watch as something falls apart. Faurosk had suffered his calamity for the day when his clever trap had been unmade into two minutes of close, personal contact. This left him with plenty of sympathy as the waiter's careful balancing act began to crumble, and the whole scenario was quickly written off as The Tower leaving its mark upon the day.

Rainie swept in to save the day, of course; That's what she does. Faurosk was too busy flinching while she did her deft work, his body wound tight and braced for a cacophonous sound that never came to pass.

"Quick acting, that," he complimented indistinctly, already relaxing and distracted by the glass of wine poured for him. The glass vessel was plucked up and sipped from, and it took a few seconds before he realized she'd directed a question back at him.

"A leash...? Ah, right. It's like... A metaphor for momentum. Or rather, the greater constrictions that allow for momentum to be built up in the first place. Like throwing a sling about one's head, or coiling a rope and weight about oneself only to release that energy-" His finger snapped. "Instantaneously and explosively."

His hand lowered, then smoothed across his lap. No napkin had been unfurled there. After a certain point, he'd accepted stains as an inevitability that's easier to repair than avoid.

"Of course, you shouldn't swing someone around by a leash... It's quite a terrible metaphor, really." An enthusiastic nod is muted by another sip of wine. He seemed quite glad, considering he'd just deconstructed and demolished his own turn of phrase. Wine has a way of making such activities more palatable.

 

[Rainie]

Her expression slowly being overtaken by fond disappointment, she sighed and shook her head at the end of his tirade. Faurosk had always been in the habit of overlooking the obvious conclusion, and instead jumping through proverbial hoops to get to the most convoluted solution. Good to know things hadn't changed much.

"Some people enjoy that sort of thing," Rainie sighed, slightly dismayed. At least the wine was bright and sweet, practically popping in her mouth after months and months of ale and rum. It was nice to be reminded that she did, in fact, still have taste buds and they hadn't all be burnt off via moonshine consumption.

 

[Faurosk]

"Some people enjoy being swung around by the neck and flung?" His incredulity is spelled plainly across his face. Then, shaking his head, he barrels on. "You must be braver than I thought."

It's not entirely clear when his ignorance turned from genuine confusion to facetious sass, but that transformation had occurred- That is, if his goofy smile was anything to go off of. A brief silence settled over their table, held in place by a sigh Faurosk slowly released. Cutting once more to the heart of things, he asked, "That isn't a proposition, is it?"

 

[Rainie]

A chuckle of amusement turned into a full blown laugh that had Rainie sitting back in her seat, holding her stomach and covering her mouth with one hand. Once she recovered, she smiled at him and shook her head.

"No, of course not, don't be ridiculous." Picking up her spoon, she nearly placed her elbows on either side of her bowl before she remembered that she wasn't on a ship and could remember her manners. Dipping the spoon in her soup, she stirred it once and amended, "One should always start with the basics first. Adventurous pursuits come later, after some negotiation." Under the table, she gave Faurosk a light tap in the shin with her foot.

She raised a spoonful of soup to her lips and began to blow on it gently. "Mm, speaking of adventurous pursuits, would you like to hear of my exploits from the past few years? I've a few good stories, if you'd like to listen." She took a bite, managing to scald her tongue a little. Oh well, it still tasted good.

 

[Faurosk]

For his part, the wizard seemed relieved. He relaxed against the table, propping his elbow on its edge and supporting a cheek in his palm. "Good, good. I somewhat doubt I'd have the strength to swing anyone around for long, least of all by their neck."

The turn of conversation toward her own past exploits could not have come soon enough. With a nod of his head and a click of his tongue, Faurosk plucked his bowl off the table and began to blow into it. It wasn't a particularly proud display, but he hadn't unraveled the secret to 'transmuting' a burn off of a tongue. Not yet, anyhow.

"I'm sure you have stories," he agreed between two lungs worth of air being blown into his soup. Watching Rainie recoil from her first bite caused that effort to redouble; At least her misstep could be a cautionary tale, eh? "Let's hear one. With any, ah... 'Incriminating' details excised, I'm sure."

 

[Rainie]

Furrowing her brow, Rainie fell into an uncharacteristic silence. Wracking her brain, she searched and searched for a story that wasn't incriminating. The silence dragged as she bit her lip, discarding story after story as they occurred to her. She probably should have seen that coming, considering piracy was, as a rule, a life of crime. Perhaps she should reassess her morals... Nah.

Finally, she wondered aloud, "Heroic deeds don't count as incriminating, right?" With an emphatic nod, she decided that even if it did, she wouldn't qualify it as such. "Right, so, a few weeks after I'd been voted captain, we were sailing near Black Marsh. For three straight days, we weathered the storm of the century, nearly capsizing twice! Luckily, my first mate is brilliant at the helm and I managed to figure out where the eye of the storm was. After that, it just a matter of following the eye until the storm cleared." Realizing she still held a spoonful of soup, she hastily took a bite and swallowed before continuing.

"So, after such a harrowing week, I decided we were due for a nice few days in a port somewhere. But what do I see on the horizon but a slaver ship, heading straight for us! Thankfully, my ship, which was named the Peacock at the time, was faster. My crew raided the slaver ship while I rained arrows down from the crosstrees of the main mast." As she spun her probably-embellished tale, her hands gesticulated for emphasis. "The fight lasted for ages, but I'm sure it was actually just a few moments. Eventually, I ran out of arrows, but I couldn't stop fighting yet! My first mate was locked in a skirmish with five - yes, five - slavers, so I took my whip, and -"

And on she went, describing the battle in illustrious detail. It was obviously romanticized, as she left out the gory reality of the admittedly gruesome fray. She exaggerated the heroic actions of herself and the crew, making the whole ordeal sound spectacular. As the story wound down to it's conclusion, she paused to take a bite of her forgotten soup.

After swallowing, she wrapped up with, "And so, with the would-be slaves aboard, we fled to the Spear. Once we were there, most of the people we had rescued left the ship, but a few decided to stay with the crew. I think one or two of them are still with us - yes, there's Bennet and... oh, what's her name. Mary... Maria!" At some point during her tale, she'd forgotten her manners and propped her elbows on the table again. T'was a hard habit to shake, after several years living on the ship. "Anyways, we arrived at port and realized those slavers were still tracking us. So I had a few cosmetic changes done to the ship, including the name, and left an anonymous tip with the navy there. Haven't seen hide nor hair of them since!"

 

[Faurosk]

To call her tale 'heroic' would be overly exalting to the deeds past bards had passed off as the same. The details had to be exaggerated, sure-- What 'first mate' would hold their own against five armed attackers? Isn't that more of a managerial position, anyhow? Suffice it to say, Faurosk had little idea of what actually went on aboard a sailing vessel, much less one so disreputable as Rainie's. Still, he was impressed!

"Well, you certainly haven't lost your gift for embellishment," he teased in an earnest attempt to hide his astonishment. It's a futile effort, but valiant nonetheless! How can one compete with their own expression, anyhow? "Even so, it's-"

The thought clipped off, halfway caught in the wizard's throat. He swallowed it with what was left of his wine, then gave it another run; "I'm glad you've found another way to help people, even if it's an unconventional avenue. Better yet, you've survived." He'd have to count his blessings for that.

 

[Rainie]

The pirate took the teasing with no more than a knowing smile and a drink of her own wine. After spinning her tale, she found herself quite parched, so she helped herself to another glass. Leaning back in her seat, she sent Faurosk a smile and slid the bottle of wine in his direction.

"Yes, well, I'm quite good at that," Rainie replied. What she meant by that was likely intentionally vague. Could be either one, really. Under the table, she sent him a nudge to the shin with her toe. "You are too, I'd imagine."

Returning her attention to her stew, which had cooled a bit over the course of her story, she took another mouthful and chased it down with a swig of wine. Then, she dabbed delicately at her mouth before returning the napkin to her lap.

"But enough about me," she demurred. "Let's talk about you! Get up to any particularly daring deeds? Or have you been bored to tears without me around?" She asked teasingly, sending him a lascivious smile over her wineglass as she propped her chin on her fist.

 

[Faurosk]

"What, you want me to share my stories and feel bland by comparison?" That was almost certainly a lie, but one that elevated Rainie's already inflated ego; Perhaps she'd let it slide? "I haven't slain anymore dragons, if that's what you're asking," Faurosk continued as he poured himself another glass. Wine had been a good choice, but with his bowl emptied over the course of her story, it was the only distraction he had left to busy his hands with. There were so few ways to keep busy while his brain tried to sort out words and thoughts, what a dreadful fate it is to think.

To make matters worse, there was something in that smile of hers that never failed to frazzle his speech.
Blasted woman.

"Suppose my company hasn't been pretty or persuasive enough to get me to charge a wyrm," he explained, delicately raising his glass to his lips and taking a sip. "Then again, there have been some rather daring deeds. At least, that's how you would put them. Some business with a frost troll, then a house that tried to kill me, and—"

He paused, squint, and reconsidered a handful of his life's choices. "Well, some stories aren't meant for polite company," he concluded, as though that word could accurately be assigned to either of them. They were sipping wine, after all. That's quite the polite thing to do! Far better than gulping.

 

[Rainie]

With compliments flying at her left and right from the caster across from her, Rainie couldn't help but preen a little. Even if they were just surface level, or worse, merely teasing, she decided to choose to believe them. Much less hurtful that way, and when had Rainie ever chosen something intentionally to cause herself pain? So, she smiled and flicked her hair over her shoulder, beaming as a result of his blatant ego stroking.

"Oh, please," she bade him with a crooked smile, "if I can tell you that I used a whip to pull a man into shark-infested waters, surely you can tell me your own tale." She pushed aside her bowl, which had been hastily finished before it got too cold.

"I will admit, I'm very curious about the house you speak of! I think I may have encountered something similar, but I didn't investigate further than the threshold. But, I suppose you can tell me that story another time. I'd much rather hear of the frost troll..." She trailed off thoughtfully, wondering how best to convince him to tell her such a story in ha, 'polite company.' Finally, an idea occurred to her, and her gaze immediately turned mischievous.

Taking her wineglass in hand, she scooted out the chair she was currently occupying and switched her bottom to the one next to it. Then, with no barrier between her and Faurosk besides space, she maneuvered her new chair closer to him with an obnoxious screech of wood-against-wood. Now that she was practically pressed against his side, she sent him another ridiculous smirk, looking quite pleased with herself.

"There, now you can just whisper it to me," she teased flirtatiously, "if you're so worried about eavesdroppers." Helpfully, she tucked her hair behind the ear closest to him, and made an attempt to look innocent.

 

[Faurosk]

Who did Rainie think she was, making such a blatant play against him? Such a bold and confident move would surely spell her undoing! If only he was actually able to resist her charms instead of merely pretending to. Those four chair legs screaming across the floor nearly grate him enough to grow a backbone, but in blatant truth, the deck had always been stacked against him. The best that Faurosk could do was to play his losing hand with grace...

The second best he could do was to use her own tricks against her.

So it was that an arm intruded between her back and the chair, drawing her in until she was not just 'practically' pressed against his side, but genuinely. "I had just built a shelter of snow beneath a natural protrusion of rock, when it approached," he began at a whisper. His word choice may be academic, but each consonant was given enough emphasis that she could feel the rumble of his voice against her ear. "Lumbering out of the cold and the wastes like some sort of nightmare. It brought my wall low, and gave me a nasty cut in the fight that followed."

He smiled and nodded off to one side before continuing, as though conceding to a point nobody had made. "I held held onto consciousness just long enough to freeze the troll solid, but that wouldn't last forever. Those things are built for frost, and it would thaw before long. Thankfully, I had a mighty witch for a guide, and she was kind enough to haul my arse out of the snow just as soon as she got back."

A hand raised from the dimness beneath the table, reaching up to prod his cheek twice. "She even patched me up. You can hardly see the scar unless you get really, terribly close... Suppose that's what the beard's for, nowadays." Not like many people get really, terribly close to him anyhow.
But for those that do?
Well, it's just common courtesy.