Chapter Text
The Market Square of Dagger Falls was alive with noise. Vendors calling out their wares, coin clinking, carts rattling over uneven stone. The scent of baked bread and damp leather lingered in the air, mingling with something sharper, river water, perhaps.
I had been focused on a stall of simple trinkets, fingers brushing over polished charms, when it happened.
A shift, a pull.
Too light to notice at first, until it was gone.
My hand flew to my throat.
Empty.
My amulet is gone.
“There!” Ezra’s voice cut through the din.
A figure moved swiftly through the crowd—slender, hooded, unmistakably quick. An Elf, at least at a glance. He did not run wildly, but with purpose, slipping between bodies like water through stone.
My amulet glinted silver briefly in his hand.
Before I could react, Ezra had already moved.
He raised a hand, “Voco arvina.” Slick liquid spread instantly across the stones below The Rogue’s feet.
Grease.
The figure staggered, just slightly, but recovered with frustrating ease.
Ezra raised his hand, breath uneven. “Stop! Or- I will burn you alive!”
I turned to him in surprise. Ezra? Threatening someone?
Ezra’s fingers trembled faintly.
The Rogue slowed. Not stopped—just enough to glance back.
A smirk curved his lips.
“A Human,” he said, voice smooth with disdain. “Threatening fire he can’t even conjure.”
Ezra flushed immediately, jaw tightening.
“Oh, yes I can.”
I knew very well that he could cast a bolt of fire now, but he is not one to resort to such violence.
The Rogue gave a soft chuckle beneath his breath and adjusted the grip upon my amulet between his fingers.
Then his gaze shifted. Past Ezra, to Rainulf.
Rainulf stood motionless, face obscured as always. His posture, rigid beneath his cloak.
Even in a crowded square, he remained strangely separate from it. Still, white everything else shifted around him.
The Rogue’s expression flickered, head tilting slightly.
“Now you,” he murmured, almost to himself.
“Ezra.” Rainulf’s voice cut in sharply. “This is not the place.”
Ezra faltered.
“You draw attention,” Rainulf continued, tone firm. “We must be more careful.”
Ezra lowered his hand.
“…Right,” he said, quieter now. “Of course.”
He exhaled, and though his expression remained tight.
Rainulf had stepped in before things escalated further.
By then, The Rogue had stopped entirely. Watching.
I stepped forward.
“Please,” I called, my voice steady despite the knot in my chest. “That amulet. It is important to me.”
He tilted his head slightly, studying me now.
Up close, his features were striking. Sharp, composed.
“A sentimental trinket, then?” he asked.
I nodded. “I will not ask for trouble,” I said. “But I can offer something in return.”
From my pouch, I drew a few gold pieces, holding them out.
“Take these,” I said gently. “And return the amulet. Please.”
Ezra turned sharply. “Elsabeth!”
“This is theft,” he said under his breath. “You don’t reward that. The law-”
He stopped himself.
His jaw clenched. Though he clearly disagreed, he said nothing more.
Rainulf spoke instead.
“…It was a practical solution,” he said, watching The Rogue carefully. “Some take what they must to survive.”
It was not approval, but it was understanding.
The Rogue looked between us, then his gaze returned to me.
Slowly, he stepped closer.
He took the gold, but instead of leaving, he lingered, turning the amulet between his fingers before placing it back into my hand.
His touch was light.
For a brief moment, panic rose in my chest. My fingers closed around it tightly, keeping the symbol of The Dark Maiden safe.
“Well,” he said, voice softer now, a hint of amusement threading through it. “That was almost disappointing.”
I blinked.
“You’re not what I expected,” he added, eyes lingering on my face. “Kindness, in a place like this… it’s dangerous.”
There was a pause. Then, a slight smile.
“Maybe I’ll make it up to you.”
I hesitated, then spoke. Perhaps more freely than I should have.
“We are traveling west. We do not intend on staying too long.” The words left my lips before I had fully considered them.
Rainulf’s head turned sharply toward me.
“Elsabeth.” A warning.
The Rogue’s smile widened, just slightly. “Convenient,” he said. “So am I.”
“Do not be too trusting,” Rainulf said, quieter now, but firm. “Strangers may not always appear as they are.” His gaze shifted briefly to The Rogue. “And charm is often a weapon.”
The Rogue stepped back at last, offering a small, almost mocking bow.
“Until we meet again, then,” he said.
Then, just like that, he was gone. Slipping back into the crowd as easily as he had appeared.
The market noise returned around us, unchanged.
We did not see The Rogue again until later that afternoon.
By then, the noise of the Market Square had softened into something less frantic, and the sun hung lower above Dagger Falls, casting long bands of gold across the stone roads.
Ezra had insisted we continue searching for supplies while Rainulf quietly guided us away from the center of the crowds. Though neither said it directly, I knew both remained wary after the encounter.
I was surprised when a familiar voice called out behind us.
“‘Ey, love. You look disappointed. I was beginning to think you missed me.”
I turned.
The Rogue had cleaned the grease from himself entirely, and without the heavy cloak that had obscured much of him earlier, I could finally study him properly.
He was tall and lean. He carried himself with an effortless ease, slipping through places unnoticed despite his striking appearance. His skin held a bronze warmth beneath the afternoon light, contrasting sharply with short black hair that curled loosely around his face in uneven waves. Sharp, pale blue eyes.
I realized then that I had not truly seen him in the Market Square. The cloak, the movement, the distraction of losing my amulet…. All of it had concealed him somewhat. Now there was little to hide behind.
I realized then that he was attractive.
[Kalervo]
Not merely because of his appearance, but because of the precision with which he carried himself. Every expression shifted subtly depending upon whom he addressed. A smirk would soften at one corner before vanishing entirely. His brows lifted in brief amusement before settling again into something unreadable. Even his gaze seemed carefully measured, as though he were constantly studying reactions while revealing very little of himself in return.
Somehow, I noticed all of it.
Rainulf stiffened beside me immediately.
Ezra sighed beneath his breath. “You.”
The Rogue placed a hand dramatically against his chest. “Yes, me. And here I thought you’d sound happier to see me.”
“You stole from us,” Ezra replied flatly.
“A temporary misunderstanding,” The Rogue said smoothly. “Which I corrected.”
His gaze shifted toward me again.
“Kalervo Firmin,” he said with a small bow. “Since introductions seem important to your Wizard.”
“Elsabeth Spyros,” I replied.
“I’m aware,” he said lightly. “Your friends said your name.”
Ezra looked horrified by this realization.
Rainulf stepped slightly closer to us both, his expression unreadable beneath his hood.
“You should not linger here,” he said to Kalervo. “Nor near us.”
Kalervo smiled faintly. “Dangerous company, are you?”
Rainulf did not answer. Instead, he looked toward me and Ezra.
“If The Teshford Arms refuses us lodging,” he said calmly, “an ally is stationed somewhere within Dagger Falls. We will find accommodations regardless.”
Kalervo’s brows lifted slightly at the mention of ‘ally’ though his expression smoothed over quickly.
Rainulf continued, voice low.
“I must meet with them regardless. There are rumors of increased movement through this region.” His gaze shifted toward the surrounding streets. “I suspect one of them already occupies part of this area.”
“Comforting,” Ezra muttered.
Kalervo tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well. Until your mysterious friend appears, love, I happen to know The Teshford Arms quite well.”
Ezra immediately frowned. “That somehow worries me more.”
Kalervo ignored him entirely.
“Come along,” he said. “I may even spare you from sleeping in a stable.”
The Teshford Arms sat near the edge of the river, warm lanternlight glowing through its windows despite the fading daylight outside. Laughter and music drifted through the open doorway, accompanied by the scent of roasted meat and spilled ale.
The moment we entered, Kalervo changed.
It was subtle.
His posture relaxed further. His smile melted into something brighter. He moved through the crowd with ease.
He approached a woman standing behind the bar.
Dark auburn hair had been pinned loosely upward to keep it from falling into her face while she worked, though several strands had escaped already from the constant motion of serving travelers. A small scar crossed one brow faintly enough that it only became visible beneath direct lanternlight.
[Olara]
Unlike many innkeepers I had encountered during our travels, she carried herself less like a weary caretaker and more like someone accustomed to managing chaos personally.
The moment Kalervo approached the counter, her expression shifted knowingly.
“Back again?” she asked.
Kalervo placed one hand dramatically against his chest.
“Olara, love, you wound me. I’d hoped my return might inspire joy.”
“It inspired suspicion.”
“A cruel thing to say to a paying customer.”
“You have not paid yet.”
Interesting.
Kalervo smiled easily at that, leaning one arm lightly against the wooden counter while Olara crossed her arms.
One corner of her mouth lifted briefly before she looked away again.
Rainulf watched the exchange carefully from nearby.
Ezra looked increasingly irritated.
I found myself unexpectedly distracted.
Something unpleasant twisted quietly within my chest.
The realization caught me off guard.
“Oh Gods, no,” Ezra muttered beside me.
I looked toward him. “What?”
“Do not fall for this,” he whispered urgently. “Please.”
“I do not know what you mean.”
“Elsabeth.” Ezra rubbed a hand across his face. “He is using some kind of magic.”
Rainulf’s gaze shifted sharply toward Kalervo.
“I sensed it as well,” Ezra continued quietly. “At least one spell. Possibly two.”
I looked back toward Kalervo.
At the counter, Kalervo smiled again while Olara laughed softly at something he had said.
And despite Ezra’s warning, I noticed something important: Kalervo never once asked for a room for himself alone.
Every bargain he made included all of us.
Eventually, Olara sighed dramatically before retrieving a key ring from beneath the counter.
“Fine,” she said. “Reduced price. But if any of you stab each other inside my inn, I am charging double.”
Kalervo grinned triumphantly.
“Your generosity restores my faith in the Realms.”
“You don’t have faith in Realms.”
“True.”
Only after the rooms were secured did I notice Kalervo quietly placing the gold I had offered him earlier onto the counter.
My gold.
Yet somehow, he had used it not merely for himself, but to help all of us.
Ezra noticed my expression immediately.
“Elsabeth.”
“He helped us.”
“And perhaps… another offering. Later,” Kalervo added.
“He manipulated the innkeeper.”
“He lowered the cost for everyone.”
“With enchantment magic.”
Rainulf spoke before the argument could continue.
“…It was clever.”
Ezra looked betrayed.
I glanced once more toward Kalervo as he accepted the room keys from Olara with another easy smile. He dropped the keys off at our table without a word before he returned to the innkeeper.
Perhaps I should have distrusted him more.
Instead, I found myself wondering how much of his charm was performance and how much of it was genuine.
Later that night, after we had unpacked our belongings within our rooms at The Teshford Arms, I found myself unable to rest.
I found that we were allowed to stay as much as needed with no additional cost, thanks to Kalervo’s ‘contributions.’ I had only given him several gold pieces. I wondered what exactly one needs to do to convince someone to offer a room for free.
As the night deepened, the sounds of The Teshford Arms gradually mellowed beneath the steady crackling of distant hearthfires and muffled conversation below.
Ezra had already fallen asleep at the desk again; one arm draped awkwardly across an open spellbook while candlelight flickered beside him.
Rainulf remained awake near the window, sharpening one of his arrows with slow precision while I loosened the final braids from my hair.
For a time, the room remained peaceful.
Then I heard it.
Several dull thuds against the wall somewhere beyond our room, followed by muffled voices. Then laughter.
I straightened immediately. Rainulf looked up, one brow raised.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yes.”
Another sound followed shortly afterward.
My stomach tightened.
“Someone may be injured.”
Rainulf blinked once.
To my confusion, he suddenly looked deeply uncomfortable.
“…No.”
I frowned slightly. “No?”
A quieter voice echoed faintly through the wall again, followed by another laugh that sounded unmistakably like Olara.
Understanding arrived slowly, then all at once.
Heat flooded directly into my face.
“Oh.”
Rainulf looked toward the window immediately.
“…Yes.”
I lowered myself very carefully onto my bedroll.
“…Oh.”
Rainulf shut his eyes briefly before exhaling through his nose. The grip upon his sharpening arrows tightened.
Ezra somehow remained entirely asleep.
Remarkable.
Another muffled sound echoed through the wall moments later.
I pulled my blanket slightly higher.
Rainulf stood abruptly. “I am leaving.”
“You do not need to.”
“I do.”
Before I could protest further, he exited the room immediately with astonishing speed.
The door shut behind him.
I remained frozen for several moments afterward, staring firmly at the opposite wall while warmth continued burning across my face.
Sleep became impossible after that.
Eventually, I rose quietly from my bedroll and slipped from the room myself, hoping fresh air might calm my thoughts.
The night outside had cooled pleasantly.
Moonlight spilled silver across the streets of Dagger Falls while the distant river carried its steady song through the darkness beyond the town. Most travelers had already retired indoors, leaving the roads quieter now beneath the glow of lanternlight and stars.
I wandered a short distance from The Teshford Arms before stopping within a small open space near the edge of the road.
I wore only a simple gown of pale silver-blue fabric, loose enough to move freely within. My amulet rested once more against my throat, cool beneath my fingertips.
I stepped barefoot across the cool grass slowly at first, allowing memory and devotion to guide each motion. The world around me eased beneath the rhythm of breath, moonlight, and quiet reverence.
For a moment, I simply listened to the water, the wind. The quiet rhythm of the night.
Then I began to dance.
Every movement became a prayer offered to Eilistraee beneath the open sky. My steps remained soft against the earth as I lifted my arms toward the moonlight filtering between the buildings. The familiar motions steadied something within me, easing the lingering tension of the day from my chest.
Then, there was music. It came from a lute, no doubt.
The melody faltered briefly when I turned toward its source.
A Halfling woman sat nearby upon an overturned barrel beneath the lantern glow, her fingers still resting upon the strings as she stared openly at me. I recognized the hesitation immediately.
Half-Drow.
Even after years traveling around Faerûn, I knew that expression well.
After only a brief pause, she continued to play.
No words or accusations. Simply music.
Relief settled quietly within me, and I answered it by continuing my dance.
The Bard herself was small even for a Halfling, perhaps no taller than three feet. Long auburn hair fell straight past her shoulders beneath a tilted Bard’s hat of black and deep red. Freckles dusted across beige skin and a rounded nose, while large hazel eyes followed my movements. Pointed ears peeked through strands of hair near a gold pendant resting against her jerkin.
The melody softened, adapting itself to my movements.
Then, another presence approached behind me.
“Careful, love,” Kalervo’s voice murmured smoothly. “You’re making this miserable town look romantic.”
I turned toward him.
The moment his eyes settled fully upon me, something changed, although only briefly.
His expression shifted. Not dramatically. Enough for me to notice, but not long enough for me to name it.
A smirk returned almost immediately, smooth as silk.
“Well,” he said lightly, “that’s unfair.”
I tilted my head slightly. “What is?”
“You, looking like that while the rest of us attempt to behave.”
Despite myself, warmth rose faintly to my face.
Kalervo stepped closer, extending one hand toward me.
“Dance with me.”
The Bard’s music continued softly in the background.
I hesitated only a moment before placing my hand within his.
This was the first time we had touched, though it was through his gloved hand.
His grip was gentle, warm under his leather gloves despite the cool night air. He guided me easily into motion, confidence woven into every step as though dancing came as naturally to him as breathing.
Alas…Something about him remained just beyond reach.
Not his movements. Something quieter than that.
Though Kalervo smiled and spoke with the same easy charm as before, there remained a strange hesitation beneath it now. A restraint I had not sensed earlier. At moments, his attention drifted briefly. Not away from me entirely, just…. Somewhere else. I cannot explain it, but it made him feel more real.
“Where’d you learn to dance like this?” he asked quietly.
“My mother taught me,” I replied. “And the Priestesses of The Dark Maiden.”
His expression shifted again at that. Briefly.
Then suddenly-
“Kalervo!”
The voice cut sharply through the music.
A Half-Orc woman strode toward us with unmistakable irritation burning across her face.
She was tall and lean, though more muscular than Kalervo beneath layered traveling leathers and strange headwear woven from sticks and leaves reminiscent of a Druid’s garlands. Long jet-black hair spilled wildly around green-gray skin marked heavily with scars—old cuts crossing her arms, shoulders, and throat, alongside a burn scar twisting across her left hand. One particularly jagged scar stretched across the right side of her cheek toward a jutting jaw. She had canines that took on the appearance of small tusks.
Her expression darkened further the closer she came.
Kalervo released my hand immediately.
“Ah,” he said carefully. “Ki.”
“You disappeared,” she snapped.
“Yes, well, technically-”
“And now you’re dancing.”
“To lovely music,” Kalervo added.
Ki glared at him without blinking. Kalervo’s smile thinned slightly at the edges.
Then her gaze shifted toward me.
Kalervo raised both hands peacefully.
“Elsabeth, this is Ki,” he said quickly. “My companion. Ki, this is Elsabeth, who thankfully hasn’t stabbed me despite several opportunities.”
Ki grunted.
I inclined my head politely. “Well met.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying me carefully before she finally folded her arms.
Kalervo exhaled dramatically.
“There. Progress already.”
Ki muttered something beneath her breath in Orcish that caused him to wince.
“I should calm her before she decides violence is the answer,” he admitted. Then he glanced toward me again, pale blue eyes briefly warmer than before. “Perhaps another dance later?”
Before I could answer properly, Ki grabbed his sleeve and pulled him away.
The Bard’s music slowed to a gentler melody once more.
Then she looked toward me curiously.
“That dance,” she said carefully. “It wasn’t just dancing, was it?”
I shook my head softly.
“It is a form of worship.”
“Oh,” she breathed quietly. “Not Lolth, then.”
“No,” I said firmly. “Never Lolth.”
Her shoulders lowered as she sighed.
“Well,” she said after a moment, setting aside her lute, “that’s good enough for me.”
She hopped down from the barrel and extended a hand cheerfully. “Annis.”
Annis watched Kalervo and Ki disappear toward the opposite side of the tavern yard before turning back toward me with a crooked smile.
She lifted her lute slightly beneath one arm, “after all that dancing and nearly getting caught in whatever that was…” She gestured vaguely in the direction Kalervo had gone. “I think I deserve a drink.”
I smiled faintly. “You played beautifully.”
“And you dance beautifully,” she replied immediately. “So, we’re even.”
There was something easy about her presence.
Then her expression brightened further.
“Bring your friends,” she added, looking past me. “The quiet one looks like he hasn’t smiled in ten years, and your Wizard appears one difficult conversation away from collapsing into dust.”
Despite myself, I laughed softly.
We returned inside together.
The tavern remained lively even at this late hour. Lanternlight painted the wooden walls gold while travelers crowded around tables cluttered with mugs, cards, and half-finished meals. Somewhere near the hearth, a drunk merchant attempted to sing along terribly with another Bard’s tune.
Annis led us toward a quieter table near the far wall.
Ezra joined quickly after spotting us from across the room, carrying two books beneath one arm despite the late hour. Rainulf arrived several minutes later, silent as ever, his dark cloak still obscuring much of his face beneath the low light.
Annis stiffened the moment she noticed him.
Her fingers tightened briefly around her mug as her eyes lingered upon the shadowed hood concealing most of Rainulf’s features.
Then, as Rainulf sat, part of his cloak shifted enough for a familiar silver pin to catch the light.
Annis raised a brow; gaze focused on the pin.
At once, Rainulf adjusted the cloak to hide the pin from view.
Annis relaxed back into her seat. “Right,” she said lightly. “So maybe you aren’t secretly here to murder us.”
Rainulf blinked once beneath the hood.
“…N-no,” he replied quietly.
His voice faltered slightly, more than usual.
I looked toward him carefully.
Rainulf normally spoke with precision, calm and measured even under pressure. But now there was the faintest hesitation in his speech, subtle enough that perhaps only someone familiar with him would notice.
And strangely… gentler.
“Oh,” she said, lips curving slightly. “Good.”
Rainulf inclined his head once, though he did not speak again immediately.
Something passed between them then. Small and unspoken.
The thought surprised me enough that I nearly missed Ezra speaking beside me.
“So,” he said, leaning forward toward Annis with immediate academic interest, “you are a Bard.”
Annis grinned. “Last I checked.”
Ezra ignored the joke entirely.
“I have always wondered how Bards shape magic through performance. Arcane structure usually requires precise formulation, but yours appears partially emotional and reactive-”
“Ezra,” I interrupted gently.
He blinked. “Right. Sorry.”
Annis laughed openly at that.
“No, no, Wizard, keep going. I like talking about myself.”
Ezra straightened slightly.
For the next several minutes, the two spoke eagerly about magic. Ezra questioned her endlessly regarding rhythm, verbal resonance, and emotional focus while Annis demonstrated small harmless tricks between drinks, woven through plucked strings and soft melodies hummed beneath her breath.
Ezra stared in fascination. “You make it look effortless.”
“It usually is,” Annis replied proudly.
His brows knitted in response.
I listened quietly, content simply to watch the conversation unfold.
Eventually, I asked, “Where did you learn to play?”
Annis leaned back comfortably in her chair.
“Melvaunt,” she replied. “Moonsea region.” Her nose wrinkled slightly afterward. “Not nearly as glamorous as it sounds.”
I had heard enough stories of the Moonsea to understand the expression.
“And now you are traveling?” I asked.
“Aye. To Waterdeep.” Her hazel eyes brightened immediately. “The Bardic College there accepts students from all over Faerûn. Or so I have heard.” She lifted her mug. “Figured I should at least try before embarrassing myself somewhere closer to home.”
“You traveled alone?” Ezra asked.
Annis hesitated briefly.
“No,” she said. “Not alone.”
Rainulf’s attention sharpened immediately from across the table.
She simply took another drink.
Annis took another long drink before suddenly glancing toward the tavern entrance.
“Oh,” she said brightly. “Speaking of traveling companions.”
She lifted one arm and waved enthusiastically toward someone across the room.
A Dwarf woman approached soon after, weaving through the crowded tavern as others moved aside instinctively before she ever reached them.
She was short even by Dwarven standards, though powerfully built beneath worn leather armor reinforced with thick stitching and iron clasps. Long curly hair the color of light brown oak fell around her shoulders in untamed waves streaked with silver, partially shadowing silvery-blue eyes that remained sharp and observant beneath thick brows. A pale scar resembling the marks of enormous claws stretched from one shoulder down her arm, disappearing beneath the leather.
Most striking of all was the helmet hanging at her side, crafted from animal bones woven carefully together alongside a carved bear totem amulet resting heavily against her chest.
Annis grinned as the Dwarf reached our table.
“This,” she announced, “is Oda Garrett.”
The Dwarf snorted softly. “You make me sound important.”
“You are important,” Annis replied immediately. “You punched a man through a wagon.”
Oda shrugged as though this were an ordinary achievement.
I blinked.
Annis leaned toward us slightly. “We met near Teshwave after some trouble on the road.” Her expression dimmed briefly at the memory before brightening again. “I didn’t understand a single thing about her Barbarian ways at first.”
“Still do not,” Oda muttered.
“But then she saved my life,” Annis finished simply.
Something in her voice softened then beneath the humor.
The Dwarf rolled her eyes afterward.
Oda settled heavily into the empty chair beside Annis, crossing muscular arms over her chest as she surveyed the rest of us carefully.
Rainulf immediately stiffened again. I heard a gulp beside me, Ezra.
“You all look terribly delicate,” Oda observed.
“Thank you,” Ezra said weakly.
Annis ignored him entirely. “Oda is a crafter,” she explained cheerfully.
My interest brightened immediately.
“What do you craft?”
“Weapons,” Oda answered at once.
“…Oh.”
Oda barked out a laugh. “What were you expecting? Flower crowns?”
I glanced briefly toward the bear totem hanging from her neck.
“A fair point.”
Though I tried to smile politely, I knew very little about weapon crafting beyond basic maintenance for my own armor and mace. My mother’s teachings had always centered more upon healing than warfare.
Still, I searched for common ground.
“You seem connected to nature,” I offered instead, gesturing lightly toward the totems and woven pieces within her attire.
That earned a more thoughtful look from Oda.
“Aye,” she replied after a moment.
“I can understand why one would connect with nature. We are part of it, after all.”
Her lips curved slightly, but noticeable.
Beside me, Ezra leaned forward cautiously.
“You are a Barbarian,” he said carefully, as though testing unfamiliar terminology. “But also a craftswoman.”
“Aye.”
“And your combat methods are instinctive?”
“Mostly.”
“And that works?”
Oda stared at him. “Frequently.”
Ezra tilted his head slightly. Although his anxiety was apparent, curiosity slowly overcame caution as it often did.
“How exactly does one enter battle relying upon instinct alone?” he asked.
Oda grinned suddenly. “You stop thinking so much.”
Ezra looked personally offended.
Across the table, Rainulf remained quiet.
Oda’s gaze shifted towards him.
“You always sit there glaring at people?” she asked him bluntly.
Rainulf’s hood shifted slightly as he turned toward her.
“I do not glare.”
“You absolutely do.”
“I observe.”
“Suspiciously.”
Rainulf seemed to consider arguing further before deciding against it.
“…Sometimes.”
Annis covered a laugh behind her mug. Rainulf turned towards her briefly before lowering his head.
I noticed then that Rainulf’s irritation never settled into dismissal as it consistently might have with strangers. Though clearly wary of Oda’s questioning, he remained seated rather than retreating into silence entirely.
Interesting.
“So,” I asked Oda gently before the conversation could sour further, “are you also traveling to the west?”
“Aye,” she replied. “Waterdeep first.”
“For trade?” Ezra guessed.
Oda nodded once.
“Biggest trade hub around. Good place for a craftswoman.” One rough hand tapped lightly against the amethyst ring she wore. “Figure I’ll follow the Trade Way eventually. Plenty of work there.”
Annis lifted her mug with a grin. “And thankfully, she can kill nearly anything that tries to murder us on the road.”
Oda took a drink calmly. “For the most part.”
As the conversation continued, I found my attention drifting occasionally toward the tavern crowd surrounding us.
I saw him.
Kalervo stood near the far side of the room beside one of the support beams, partially hidden among passing travelers and lanternlight. Despite the noise and movement around him, his pale blue eyes remained fixed upon our table.
Upon me.
The moment I noticed him, the corner of his mouth curved slightly upward.
He had likely been there for some time, watching.
I should have found that unsettling. Instead, warmth stirred unexpectedly within my chest.
Before I could reconsider the decision, I lifted one hand slightly in invitation.
Kalervo’s brows rose faintly.
Then he crossed the tavern toward us with effortless ease.
Rainulf noticed him immediately. His posture tightened.
“Well,” Kalervo said smoothly upon reaching the table, “this appears far more entertaining than the usual tavern arguments.”
His gaze settled first upon Oda.
For the first time since meeting him, I saw genuine interest cross his expression.
The Dwarf must have noticed too. “You,” she said flatly.
“Me,” Kalervo agreed pleasantly.
“I saw you in the Market Square earlier.”
“How unfortunate for us both.”
“You stole from her.”
“A temporary misunderstanding.”
“And then charmed the innkeeper.”
Kalervo placed one hand dramatically against his chest. “I’m wounded by how little faith everyone has in my naturally delightful personality.”
“You should be.”
To my surprise, Kalervo smiled wider at that response.
“A Barbarian,” he mused. “Menacing.”
Oda narrowed her eyes immediately. “That sounded insulting.”
“Not at all,” Kalervo replied smoothly. “It was a compliment, actually.”
Annis folded her arms. “I’m useful too.”
Kalervo glanced toward her, his smile vanishing instantly. “I’m sure the music helps morale.”
Annis stared at him in disbelief.
“My magic would change your mind.”
Kalervo blinked once. “…Noted. I look forward to seeing it.”
Ezra made a visible effort not to laugh.
Meanwhile, I noticed Kalervo’s attention shift briefly across the table toward Rainulf.
Rainulf remained mostly hidden beneath his hood, though his shoulders have lowered somewhat since earlier. Especially whenever Annis spoke directly to him.
Kalervo’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly in thought. First at Rainulf again, then Annis.
Something about Rainulf’s gentleness around Annis appeared to have caught his eye.
Before I could think further on it, another figure approached sharply through the crowd.
Ki.
“Well,” she muttered, eyes sweeping across us. “You found more strays.”
Annis immediately frowned.
“Oh, I do not like you.”
Ki smirked faintly at that. “The feeling grows mutual, little Bard.”
Her gaze shifted toward me next, lingering openly upon my amulet.
“A Half-Drow Priestess,” she said. “That is almost funny.”
I stiffened slightly.
Ki tilted her head.
“Moon prayers and dancing?” Her voice sharpened mockingly. “Better than spiders, perhaps, but still strange.”
Annis set her mug down harder than necessary.
“At least she doesn’t worship monsters.”
Ki’s eyes snapped toward her instantly.
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
Annis hesitated only briefly before answering. “Orcs like you destroyed my hometown.”
The air at the table changed immediately.
I spoke quickly before the tension worsened. “We do not need to fight.”
Ki turned toward me sharply.
“And you think saying that fixes anything?”
“I only mean that—”
“You speak like someone who’s never had to survive people like this.”
Rainulf moved slightly closer beside me at once. Ezra straightened immediately as well, unease replacing his earlier curiosity.
“Ki,” Kalervo warned quietly.
Ki continued staring at me with growing frustration.
“You try to smooth everything over,” she snapped. “As if kindness solves hatred.”
Oda’s hand lowered slowly toward the greataxe resting beside her chair.
Rainulf’s posture shifted subtly into readiness beneath his cloak.
Even Ezra raised one trembling hand instinctively, prepared to cast if necessary, despite obvious discomfort with the idea.
The tavern noise around us continued, unaware.
Kalervo stepped forward before anything could escalate further.
“I apologize,” he said suddenly.
The words cut through the tension immediately.
Ki looked toward him in disbelief.
Kalervo exhaled softly, rubbing one hand across his face before addressing the table again.
“Ki and I…” He paused briefly, expression tightening for only a moment. “We’re protective of one another. Sometimes excessively so.”
Ki looked away.
Kalervo glanced toward her carefully. “Behave.”
The single word carried surprising firmness beneath the smoothness of his ordinary tone.
Ki’s jaw tightened. After several tense seconds, she stepped back.
Though the immediate danger passed, I could still feel the unease lingering beneath the surface like a storm not yet fully gone.
The hour had grown late by the time our conversation finally began to dissolve into smaller fragments.
The tavern had quieted somewhat around us. Several patrons had already stumbled toward their rooms while others remained slumped across tables nursing unfinished drinks beneath dim lanternlight.
Annis yawned first.
“Well,” she declared, stretching her arms overhead, “if I stay awake much longer, I’ll start singing tragic ballads at strangers for coin.”
“You already do that,” Oda muttered.
“That is different.”
Oda rose heavily from her chair, gathering her helmet beneath one arm. “We leave early.”
Annis sighed dramatically before standing as well.
Rainulf rose soon after, though his attention lingered briefly upon Annis.
Annis smiled faintly at him in return. “Goodnight, mysterious glaring man.”
Rainulf hesitated. Then, very quietly, “…Goodnight, Annis.”
Rainulf immediately turned toward Ezra.
“Not one word.”
Ezra lifted both hands innocently. “I said nothing.”
“You were about to.”
“I admit, I was thinking very loudly.”
Rainulf sighed in visible regret before retreating toward the stairs himself.
“I will speak with both of you in the morning,” he said flatly. “After you become less irritating.”
Ezra looked delighted by this response.
Once Rainulf disappeared upstairs, Ezra gathered his books carefully against his chest before turning toward me.
“You should sleep soon,” he said gently.
“I will.”
His gaze shifted briefly toward the opposite side of the tavern.
I followed it instinctively.
Kalervo.
He sat alone near the back corner now, one boot resting lazily atop the rung of his chair while Ki spoke quietly with him beside the hearth. Even from across the room, I could see the way his attention occasionally drifted elsewhere.
Toward our table, toward me.
Ezra’s shoulders lowered slightly. “…Elsabeth.”
I looked toward him. “Yes?”
“Be careful.”
“I know.”
Ezra studied me for a long moment, then he sighed softly. “I mean it.”
“I know,” I repeated more gently this time.
Before I could fully understand Ezra’s expression, he looked away.
“Goodnight,” he murmured.
“Goodnight, Ezra.”
He disappeared upstairs soon after, leaving me alone within the dim tavern below.
I remained seated for several moments longer, listening absently to the crackling hearth and distant murmurs around me.
Then I sensed movement approaching.
Kalervo.
Ki had apparently vanished somewhere during the last few minutes, leaving him alone as he crossed toward my table with familiar effortless grace.
“You collect interesting people quickly, love,” he remarked lightly as he settled into the chair across from me without invitation.
I smiled faintly. “You say that as though you are not included among them.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely the most interesting one.”
“You sound very certain.”
“I usually am.”
The lanternlight softened his features somewhat in the late hour.
He leaned back comfortably within the chair, pale blue eyes studying me with quieter intensity than before.
For a brief moment, silence settled comfortably between us.
Then his gaze shifted toward my amulet resting against my chest.
“You really believe in all of it, don’t you?”
“All of what?”
“The kindness. Forgiveness.” His eyes lifted back toward mine. “People changing.”
“I do.”
Kalervo looked at me for a long moment after that.
Something unreadable moved briefly behind his expression again, that same shift I had noticed outside during our dance.
“You’re strange,” he murmured softly.
I tilted my head slightly. “Is that an insult?”
“No.” A faint smile touched his lips. “I think it might be admiration.”
Heat rose faintly within my face before I could stop it.
His lips curved in response.
“Hells,” he said quietly, sounding almost delighted. “It wasn’t a compliment. You truly don’t realize when people flirt with you.”
“I am aware…. sometimes.”
“Mm. Clearly not often.”
I frowned slightly. “You flirt with many people, it seems.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
He leaned slightly forward then, resting one arm against the table as his expression shifted.
“For most people,” he said smoothly, “it’s entertainment.”
My chest tightened unexpectedly at the quiet sincerity beneath the words.
“And for me?” I asked before caution could stop me.
For once, Kalervo hesitated.
His gaze lowered for the span of a breath before returning to mine again, carefully composed.
“Risky,” he answered lightly.
Before I could think of how to answer, he stood from the chair with sudden fluid ease, as though sensing he had lingered too close to something vulnerable.
“Well,” he sighed dramatically, stretching one arm overhead, “if I continue staring at you like this, your Wizard may attempt to kill me in my sleep.”
“Ezra would never do that.”
“No,” Kalervo admitted with amusement. “He’d feel terribly guilty afterward.”
Despite myself, I laughed softly.
His brows knit for a moment before he smiled again, smaller this time. Less polished.
“Sleep well, love.”
“You as well, Kalervo.”
For a heartbeat longer, neither of us moved.
Then he inclined his head slightly before finally turning away, disappearing once more into the dim warmth of the tavern.
By the time I returned upstairs, the hallway had fallen nearly silent.
Only faint tavern music drifted upward through the floorboards now alongside the occasional muffled laughter from below.
When I entered our room again, Ezra remained awake at the desk, though one side of his face rested against an open book while candlelight flickered low beside him. Rainulf sat near the window sharpening one of his blades with slow, steady movements.
Neither looked surprised to see me return later than expected.
Ezra lifted his eyes first. “You were talking with him.” It was not a question.
“Yes.”
Rainulf’s sharpening paused briefly.
“And?” Ezra asked carefully.
“He is…… complicated.”
Ezra groaned softly into the table. “That is the worst possible answer.”
“It is true.”
Rainulf resumed sharpening the blade. “I do not trust his convolutedness.”
“I do not think he wishes to harm us,” I said quietly.
Rainulf’s bright black eyes lifted toward me beneath the shadow of his hood.
“That does not mean harm will not follow him.”
The room fell quiet after that.
Ezra finally closed his book with a tired sigh before rubbing at his eyes.
“I still do not trust him.”
“I know.”
“And Ki nearly started a tavern fight.”
“I understand.”
“And somehow,” he muttered, “I suspect this will only become worse.”
A faint smile touched my lips. “It is very likely.”
After some thought, Rainulf finally spoke. “Annis trusts Oda completely.”
Ezra blinked at the sudden subject change. “…Yes?”
Rainulf looked toward the dark window thoughtfully. “They balance each other.”
I glanced toward him curiously.
“You noticed that quickly.”
Rainulf was silent for a moment. “…I observe.”
Ezra nearly laughed himself to death trying to suppress it.
Rainulf turned sharply towards Ezra. “I regret speaking.”
I smiled softly as the conversation finally began to fade beneath growing exhaustion.
Outside, the distant river continued its steady song through Dagger Falls while moonlight slipped faintly through the curtains beside Rainulf’s window.
Slowly, I loosened my hair and settled into my bedroll at last, exhaustion finally catching up with me after the long journey and stranger encounters of the day.
Before closing my eyes, I rested one hand lightly over my amulet.
Today had begun with theft, uncertainty, and strangers, yet somehow, by nightfall, the road ahead no longer felt quite as lonely.
Though I still did not know whether that feeling would become comfort or danger.
-10 Flamerule, 1485 DR
[Elsabeth under the moonlight]