Winter 4994, 36 Shinmoth
Sir Tristen led the Hengist representative to the manor provided by the kingdom to act as the team's headquarters and base of operations. The man spoke not a word the entire way. Even when they arrived at the large, ornate gates, he merely scanned the building with those stunning blue eyes, though his familiar let out an impressed whistle.
"In an effort to mitigate any leaks in information, we have declined to staff the manor full time," Tristen explained to the soldier as he led the way through the massive entryway, up the left-hand flight of sweeping staircases, towards the second floor and private rooms, "The Servant's Guild will be sending people to clean the shared spaces, tend the gardens once a week, and provide a cook for evening meals only. For breakfast and the afternoon meal, we'll be fending for ourselves, and it will be our responsibility to tend to our own rooms..."
Tristen glanced over his shoulder at the man, not sure what to expect from him. Would Shon be aghast that they were expected to live in a noble's manor without a noble's staff? Or would he be in awe of the extravagance, being of common descent? If Shon felt either, he didn't show it. He just nodded, as stoic as before.
They reached Shon's room, but before Tristen could unlock it, the door across the hall swung open to reveal another team member, Oswall. The Temple of Horsa representative stopped mid-step out of his room, his fingers already rolling one of his foul smokes. The small man looked as disheveled as ever, with a days worth of growth on his face and clothes two sizes too big. Tristen could never tell if the man was thin, muscled, or potbellied, or even his true height, as he walked with rounded shoulders and a slouch that never seemed consistent. Oswall looked nothing like the elite soldier he supposedly was. But that was exactly Oswall's specialty. He was a Rogue, sanctioned and employed by the Temple of Horsa for undercover missions and stealth operations.
Oswall took in both Tristen and the Hengist representative in a blink, and grinned, "So he's finally here? Better late than never, I guess." He shrugged, placing his unlit smoke between his lips and his hands in a set of pockets sewn into his trousers. Only those too poor to afford a bag of holding, and Rouges apparently, bothered with trouser pockets.
Tristen nodded to acknowledge Oswall's comment and watched Shon out of the corner of his eye. The Temples of Hengist and Horsa were sworn enemies. This was why literal representatives of the gods -Paladins and Clerics- had been forbidden from this mission from both orders. But Tristen knew Shon's history. That he had trained to be a Paladin, had even stood his vigil and been denied, and yet had chosen to continue to serve anyway. His file read like a man in denial, though to their benefit in this case.
The Paladin of Saint Giorgos didn't know what motivated Oswall to join the Temple of Horsa, except that he was from a province ruled by the god. It did seem that Oswall was more loyal to the organization than the religion, but he was also a Rogue, a class of fighter Hengist generally frowned upon. If there was going to be any tension in the team, it would be between these two representatives.
Shon turned to face Oswall and lifted his hands in front of his chest. Resting his left fist in his right palm, he bowed at the waist. His familiar trilled like a bird from his shoulder.
Oswall smirked, speaking around his smoke, "Got an awful lot o' hair for a Monk doncha, soldier?"
Shon rose from his bow and arched a single black eyebrow at the Rogue. His pseudodragon let out a twitter that sounded eerily like a giggle.
"You don't say much, do you?" Oswall asked, looking Shon over again more slowly. From his polished boots, up his neatly pressed uniform, to the bastard sword over his shoulder, and his pure black hair, finally settling on those ice-blue eyes with a barely suppressed shiver.
Shon spoke for the first time since his council interview, "I don't waste words."
Taking his smoke between his fingers, Oswall chuckled and shook his head. Starting towards the stairs that led up to the roof, he announced, "And with that, our motley crew is complete!"
"Staff Sergeant," Tristen called after him, "Gather the rest of the team in the library."
The Rogue spun on his heel but continued to walk backward, "Got time for a smoke while you give the grand tour?"
Tristen sighed and waved a consenting hand. Oswall gave him a lazy informal salute before turning around to continue up the stairs.
Tristen sighed again, turning back to Shon's door and catching sight of the soldier's arched eyebrow in the process. The Paladin looked Shon over pointedly, and the man finally asked, "Horsa's representative?"
Tristen opened the room's door as he answered, "Yes. I will make all the formal introductions at the meeting." Without further comment, Shon followed the knight into his new bedroom, stopping just one step in. It was moderately sized, about thirty feet wide and fifteen deep, with wooden floors, a private hearth, and rigging for a hanging light, though it lacked a light source at the moment. It was also completely empty.
Tristen continued to the single window taking up most of the smaller west wall, and walked the curtains open to light the room. "You will be able to furnish it as you see fit. A stipend has been added to your monthly pay to cover the cost of transporting all your personal belongings here, or to purchase new if you prefer..." He turned back in time to see the little pseudodragon launch itself from Shon's shoulder to wing around the room in an excited tizzy.
For a split second, the soldier looked shocked and overwhelmed. A moment later, it was gone, and Shon was as unphased as ever. Perhaps Tristen had imagined it. He was starting to wonder if Shon was capable of feeling anything outside of dutiful acceptance. Perhaps the soldier's failed vigil had affected him more mentally and emotionally than his files indicated.
The pseudodragon swooped out of the chimney flue and perched itself on the curtain rod, hanging upside down to whistle out the window and sprinkle soot all over the hardwood floors. It was far more expressive than its human. As if making up for the deficit.
Tristen studied Shon as he paced around the outside of his room, all the way around the long way before joining the Paladin at the window. Shon took a moment to stare out the glass, down to one of the side gardens below, and Tristen cleared his throat, "Before we continue, Master Sergeant..."
At the use of his rank, Shon stiffened, turning sharply and standing at attention. The Paladin officer eyed him again. Shon behaved like a Squire in training, deferential to all ranking officers as though he expected to be ordered to run laps for the slightest infraction of protocol.
Tristen continued, "Your ultimatum..." he let the word trail out, and after a moment, Shon arched a silent eyebrow. Tristen sighed. To say Shon was a man of few words was a gross understatement. "I don't want it spread to the rest of the team. It would be best if they didn't know about your past relationship with the Firewyrm." His familiar hissed.
Though Shon's expression didn't change, he did finally speak, "Her name is Lily." His eyes shifted ever so slightly, from focusing through Tristen to looking right at him, into him. The Paladin had to resist a shiver, "Sir."
"Yes... Well..." Tristen shook his head, partially in answer and partially to break eye contact without actually looking away. Shon was a big man, as tall as Tristen, who was just over six feet, but where the Paladin was built slim, Shon was broad in the chest and shoulders, more like a laborer or barbarian. Still, his physique wasn't nearly as intimidating as his stare. Those eyes... It was like he was looking into your soul.
But Tristen held a piece of his god in his soul and wasn't as easily intimidated as others might be. He continued, "Your past with her, and your stance against her being brought in, is to be kept confidential. Is that understood?"
Shon saluted in answer, though his familiar hissed again.
That would have to do. "If you will follow me, I'll show you around."
On the second floor, Tristen pointed out the pair of stairs -one on either end of the long hall- leading to the rooftop garden, where Oswall had gone to smoke. And each of the other five bedrooms, as well as the privy and bathroom.
The bathroom had three showers and large soaking tubs with a hanging sign beside the door to show if it was occupied and by whom. The privy had four stalls for toilets, and sinks enough for each of them to have their own. The others had already made themselves at home, their toiletries cluttering the counters. Tristen and the Cleric's sinks were the most orderly, but the Mage had more products than the two ladies combined. Oswall had not only his shave kit but a large box of makeup in various shades of black and brown, while the Druid had purposefully coated her sink with moss. Shon arched an eyebrow at the mess but just shook his head and left the room without comment.
Central on the ground floor was the grand entryway, which reached up to the second-story roof made of extensive skylights, giving it the feel of a courtyard. All the community rooms were off of this central hub. To the west was the kitchen, with a built-in informal dining area -where they ate breakfast- and a more formal dining room for evening meals. To the north were the stairs leading up to the second-story balcony and private rooms, as well as a second privy, tucked discreetly away, and the door to the rear garden. To the east was an official office, where they would hold most of their meetings, and a library that doubled as a sitting room. It was in the last of these where they would have their first meeting and introductions.
A fire already burned bright and warm in the library hearth, adding its flickering golden light to the magical illumination from the chandelier above. In one of six overstuffed chairs sat the Archmage Ranito. The man was a portrait of visual contradictions, with boney hands and elderly features but thick brown hair that seemed to belong to a man twenty years his junior.
Ranito looked up from his reading as they entered and snapped his book shut. Uncrossing his legs just to cross them again on the other side, he stated, "So he's finally here." The Mage set his book down on a side table and looked Shon over briefly as he pulled a ratty notebook and pen out of his robes. "Trust the Temple of Hengist to send an actual soldier..." He started scribbling in his notebook. "What's your name, young man?"
Shon arched that ever expressive eyebrow yet again, looking from the Mage to Tristen and back again before he answered, "Shon."
Ranito hummed without looking up, muttering under his breath, "Where have I heard that name before...?" Shon's familiar twittered, crawling from Shon's back to his shoulder and tilting its dragon head at the Mage.
Ranito looked up at the sound, and his jaw sagged. His dark blue eyes darted from the pseudodragon to Shon, then to his sword pommel, which had changed color as Tristen had shown him around -from pale blue to dark navy- "You're a Sorcerer..."
Shon's expression didn't change, though something about his demeanor stiffened, and his pommel turned slightly transparent. He nodded in answer, and Ranito looked to Tristen, "And Corwin cleared him?"
His shock wasn't without merit. It was a poorly kept secret that the Master Archmage hated Sorcerers. Tristen cleared his throat, correcting, "Prince Corwin, or Master Archmage if you prefer, Archmage Ranito. And yes, Shon is a Sorcerer, though sealed-"
"But with an item and not the tattoo?" Ranito interrupted, scribbling in his book again, "What is your element?" He looked up in time to see Shon arch his other eyebrow, his familiar twittering its dragon giggle. "Really?" the Mage asked, realizing without needing the verbal answer, "But ice is so rare! Are you sure you would rather not train it? It would come in very handy in bringing in the Fire-"
Tristen cleared his throat pointedly and spoke over him, "It would take far too long to train a Sorcerer for our purposes Archmage Ranito." Shon shook his head in his own answer. Though if it was to assert that he wouldn't assist in taking in the Firewyrm or that he had no intention of training his magic, Tristen didn't know. Nothing about the man's body language gave an indication to either.
Ranito didn't have a chance to ask any follow-up questions before the door opened just a crack, and a blond head peeked in, "Are we having a meeting in here then, Sir Tristen?"
The door was pulled out of Alena's hands as Oswall pushed it open the rest of the way from behind her, "What? You think I was lying to you, Al?" He snickered at the Cleric of Soleil, making her blush.
The Cleric was the youngest member of their team, only nineteen but already a Vicar of the Church. According to her file, she'd been chosen by Soleil two years early in her training -at sixteen- when the Church she was apprenticing with was attacked by draken. She was made into a Cleric of the sun god in a time of crisis and had saved the village in the process. Though she had continued her training and even stood a Vigil -for the sake of tradition- at eighteen.
Tristen nodded in greeting to the two, then looked beyond them before asking, "Druid Ebonwing...?" But his question was answered a moment later as a sleek black cat came streaking in between Alena's legs, followed closely by a loudly cawing crow.
The pseudodragon hissed, launching itself from Shon's shoulder to chaise the crow around the library, kicking up dust from the tops of the bookshelves. Ranito stood, snapping his notebook shut and shouting over their continued twittering and cawing, "Mind the books!"
The cat yowled, then snickered as it shifted into a woman. The Druid cocked a slim hip and watched the two winged beasts fly and dive around each other until a whistle pierced the din, and the pseudodragon dove back for Shon. It landed on his head and wrapped its barbed tail around his neck, hissing again at the crow as it made one last circle before landing on Ebonwings outstretched arm.
"I didn't expect to see a pseudodragon in the city," the Druid commented, shifting her hip to cock to the other side. The woman was almost all leg, built slim and tall in tight-fitting leathers with brown hair cropped shorter than even Tristan's regulation cut. She looked the Hengist representative up and down as he brushed the little dragon off his head. It fell back with an indignant squawk and grabbed ahold of his sword, chittering in his ear. "I can't tell if you've impressed it or if it's decided to be a nuisance out of spite." Ebonwing said.
Tristen didn't expect Shon to answer, but the man did mumble a quiet "Pest." to the pseudodragon.
Ranito cleared his throat, "It's his familiar."
Ebonwing's eyes went wide, and Oswall dropped the wad of tobacco he was pinching into a ball with a strangled, "Huh?"
Alena blinked in confusion and asked, "But I thought he was the Hengist representative. We already have someone from the Mages Guild."
Shon ran a hand through his hair, showing his icy eyes more clearly before the black strands fell forward again, and he looked away. He said nothing, and Ranito opened his mouth to explain, but Tristen held out a hand to stop the Mage, "Why don't you introduce yourself, Master Sergeant?"
Shon turned to face the bulk of the group and brought his hands up to bow again, left fist in right palm, "Shon, Sta- Master Sergeant of the Temple of Hengist." He wasn't accustomed to the two-rank promotion yet.
Ranito cleared his throat and added, "Sorcerer, sealed. Not associated with the Mages Guild." the familiar whistled.
"And the little one?" Ebonwing asked, then stroked the crow's feathers, "This is Neg, not as close as a familiar but a trusted companion nonetheless."
Shon straightened, focusing his intense gaze on Ebonwing before answering, "Ryuuko." He studied the Druid more closely than he had the others, and she smirked,
"Like what you see, big guy?" She ran her hands down her waist and cocked her hip again with sharp exaggeration, "Sorry, but you're not my type."
Shon huffed and looked away. It was the most emotion he'd shown since entering the manor. Ryuuko bit his ear, and he grabbed it by the neck, pulling it off and dropping it. The little dragon spread its wings before it could hit the ground and flew over to Ebonwing, perching itself on her shoulder opposite the crow and nuzzling her cheek before chittering at Shon. He rolled his eyes but glanced at Ebonwing and said, "Yua went to Shutha to see you..."
Ebonwing's grin faltered, and her hand froze halfway up to pet the pseudodragon, "You know Yua?" she asked. Shon just nodded.
The others looked between the two for a moment before Ranito asked, "Ryuuko? That sounds fairly draconic..."
Oswall snorted, "Well, it is a little dragon."
Shon nodded, and Tristen narrowed his eyes at the man. How did he know draconic? As far as Tristen knew, only the Warlocks spoke the dead language of dragons. Ranito opened his notebook again and asked, "Do you know what it means?"
"Little dragon," Shon answered.
"How do you-" Tristen started. Shon's eyes snapped to him, and the Paladin's accusation-laced question stuck in his throat.
"Lily named it," Shon said shortly.
Damn, he should've known. And now this was going to open up an avenue of questions that Tristen didn't want the team exploring.
"Lily?" Ranito asked predictably, "You know the Firewyrm?"
Shon's eye twitched, and he crossed strong arms over his broad chest, nodding in answer. Ryuuko hissed at the use of the woman's title. Apparently, neither of them liked them referring to her as such.
Oswall snorted, "Well, that should make it easier for us to bring her in at least." and Tristen held his breath. Shon looked away but said nothing, following Tristen's order to keep his ultimatum confidential.
Tristen cleared his throat. "Master Sergeant," He started the introductions to change the subject. "This is Archmage Ranito of the Mages Guild, Vicar Alena of the Church of Soleil, Druid Ebonwing of the Grove of Cathbad, and Staff Sergeant Oswall of the Temple of Horsa." Shon bowed to them as a group once again, and Ryuuko whistled in greeting, lifting its tail in the air like a wave.
"Well, now that that's done," Ebonwing said, moving to one of the chairs and falling into it with a sigh, "What's the plan?" Alena moved to sit beside her, folding her hands in her lap and sitting at the edge of her chair, looking a little nervous. Oswall plopped down as heavily as Ebonwing, shoving his tobacco into his lip and reaching for a flask that he spat into. Ranito resumed his abandoned seat, crossing his legs again and readying his pen on his notebook while Tristen rounded his chair, sitting straight and looking around at all of them in turn.
Shon didn't sit. He stood at parade rest -legs shoulder-width apart and hands clasped behind his back. Tristen gestured for a chair, "At ease, Master Sergeant..."
Shon arched an eyebrow at him. Parade rest was 'at ease.' Oswall snickered, "You could try using his name, Tris."
"Trust Hengist to send a true soldier," Ebwonwing added, shaking her head while Neg cawed and Ryuuko whistled from the back of her chair.
Shon sighed and took his seat without making Tristen rephrase or use his name. Shon crossed his arms, his sword pommel darkening once more to a midnight blue.
Tristen cleared his throat, he couldn't read the man... But there would be time enough to learn each other's quirks and personalities. There was a good chance they would be working with each other for years to come. "As you all know, this team has been formed by order of the king for the expressed purpose of apprehending and executing Warlocks..."
Nearly everyone nodded, though Alena bit her lip as she did so. Shon narrowed his eyes at Tristen, and his deep voice came out as a monotone, "After a trial."
Oswall rolled his eyes theatrically, "Here we go..."
But Tristen nodded, "Yes. If we are able to bring any in alive, they will stand formal trial per the laws." Shon nodded, offering no further argument. Tristen wasn't sure if he should respect the man more for holding strictly to the laws of the kingdom -laws the Paladin held sacred- or if he should be suspicious that Shon might hold sympathy for the Warlocks.
"And questioning," Ranito chimed in, "We don't even know their motivation and have only a vague idea of their goals."
Ebonwing scoffed, "Does it matter? They're Warlocks."
"It should," Alena whispered. When everyone looked her way, she held her chin a little higher, "They were sane when they sold their souls. We should know what drove them to it to prevent it happening to others." She looked around at all of them, and when she met Shon's eyes, he nodded at her in agreement. She blushed.
"So, where do we start? And can we do it after the new year?" Oswall asked, spitting into his flask again.
Ebonwing snickered, "What? You got a hot date or something?"
Oswall wiggled his eyebrows at her, "Wanna join us?"
"How many girls you got?" the Druid asked slyly.
"As many as you need. I hear you're a real animal..."
Ranito rolled his eyes while Alena's blush deepened, and Shon ran a hand through his hair again. Tristen shook his head. What had he gotten himself into with this group? Maybe it should've been a team of Saint Giorgos Paladins... He coughed pointedly, and the two troublemakers snickered. He tried to get them back on topic, "We will leave for Swailand in three days to see the tower and question the victims of the most recent Warlock incident. From there, we will go to the Lenare plains, so I recommend you spend your time doing what research you can into the barbarian tribes and their customs there."
"What tribe?" Ranito asked.
Ebonwing and Oswall exchanged shrugs, and Alena asked, "Does it matter?"
But Shon answered, "Laughing Pony."
Alena looked even more confused at what sounded like a random outburst, and Ebonwing snickered while Oswall asked, "What?" looking at Shon as though the man were insane.
Shon sighed, running his hand through his hair again. It seemed he often did that when being forced to talk against his will, "The tribe that was tricked by the Warlocks." he explained shortly.
"How do you know that?" Oswall asked indignantly.
Tristen answered for him, "The Master Sergeant was part of the team that discovered and stopped the Warlocks there." He glanced at the Hengist representative and continued, "He was also one of those who stopped the operation in Swailand."
Ranito snapped his fingers, "That's why Corwin let you join!" Shon shrugged.
Alena smiled, speaking shyly, "So we have a few days... What does everyone plan on doing? Maybe we could..." But Oswall and Ebonwing were already climbing to their feet, and her voice faltered, her smile fading.
Until Ebonwing grinned down at her. "I've never been to the capital before, and even though I've been here a few weeks, I still haven't seen everything. Would you like to go exploring with me?" She held a hand out to the Cleric, who beamed up at the Druid.
Taking the hand and standing, Alena turned to Oswall, "Would you like to join us?" she asked kindly.
Oswall shook his head and turned for the door, "Thanks, but I know the city like the back of my hand."
"Shon?" Ebonwing asked while Neg cawed and Ryuuko twittered.
But Shon shook his head, then mumbled, "...shopping."
"Oh? For what?" Ranito asked.
Shon stood, looking away from all of them again, "Furniture..." Was he embarrassed?
Ranito shrugged, "The Temple can work with the Mages Guild to have all your things transferred..." the Archmage started, but stopped when Shon ran his hand through his hair and shook his head again.
Tristen blinked at the man, then remembered his file more clearly. Shon had been an orphan in the Church of Soleil's care and moved directly from there to the Temple as a Squire. After his training, Shon enlisted and had been traveling the kingdom on jobs ever since. He didn't have anything to transfer.
"Staff Sergeant," Tristen called to Oswall before he could exit the library. The man froze without turning around, "Since you know the city so well, why don't you show our new companion to the shops he needs?"
Oswall turned slowly to look at Shon, who started, "That won't be-"
"Go with him." Tristen interrupted, "There is a good chance we'll be working with each other for a very long time, and in life-threatening situations. We should do our best to get to know each other." Besides Shon's obviously introverted nature, it was particularly important to the Paladin leader that these two be able to work together. If there was too much friction now -before they'd even gotten started- he needed to know about it.
Ryuuko whistled, jumping from Ebonwing's chair and flying over to circle Oswall's head and land on his shoulder. Shon sighed, running a hand through his hair yet again, apparently also a nervous gesture. Oswall just shrugged and gave a sloppy salute to Tristen, "Yes, Sir." then turned to Shon and waved for the door, "Come on, soldier boy, I've got a contact that can make sure you don't get ripped off."
***