"...and while I was still stationed in Waymoot, my sister sent me word that she'd passed. I asked to go home right then and there, but I couldn't get clearance for weeks- there was miles of paperwork, and when I turned it all in, they delayed and delayed." Rafa sighed and pushed at the dark mold stain on the floor again. "Last month was the first time I could've gone back to Moonever at all, and as soon as I get to the dock, I get the message that I've been tapped to go with Shesua."
Mi'ishaen looked over at Silveredge, who leaned ever so slightly across the table toward Aleksei. The Dragonborn, who had been contemplating the contents of his half-empty mug, reached one arm behind his head and scrubbed the roots of his blond hair slowly.
"It... is not the same leaving," he admitted at last, looking up to Rafa.
"So you're gonna call it whining?" the Human soldier argued, looking to Silveredge for support. "You tell him; you get it."
Silveredge, who had been thinking of something entirely different, frowned as she sat back slowly. After a few beats of silence, she allowed an adventurous hand to find its way over Mi'ishaen's resting right hand, and the Tiefling looked at her for a few moments before shrugging. Silveredge nodded her head- a miniscule movement that both males missed- toward Rafa. Mi'ishaen tilted her head from side to side, allowing her dark hair to brush the back of her shoulders through her scarlet dress.
"Well, you probably think orders are orders, but... I wouldn't follow them," she said after a few moments of silence. "If it'd been me, I'd've told the messenger to go dance with the devils. Family comes first. I don't understand any organization, anywhere, that tries to take that away, as though any king, any law, or any bag of coin could ever be more important than the people who raised you."
"Still I am thinking orders are orders... but these are... not good orders," Aleksei slowly agreed. "Yours is true sorrow; we drink."
Rafa raised his slightly dented flagon, and the three that shared his table began drinking the ale in their own until he set the thing back down on the knotty wooden table again.
"Alright- Silveredge, on you," the Human nodded, making a small toast toward her. "I have to pick a location, right? Right- eh... maritime... on the water."
Silveredge pulled her lips to one side of her face and reached up a hand to twist her fingers in her hair. "Well, once my- ah- Ides-Raz wanted go to Escalant- we were in Sultim, since he claimed the mercenary group with which he traveled had betrayed him to the guard in the town before, and that they hated him. It was strange, since they spoke nothing of their distaste for him to me... anyway, he spoke no Mulhorandi, and I could only attempt communication by means of a soot-based potion that I could only drink two sips of without immediately giving it back to the ground-"
"Oh, please don't tell me he made you drink the whole thing," Rafa groaned, picking at the half-brown potato that had been served to him more than an hour before. "I'll drink for that already."
"Um...yes, I'm afraid he did," Silveredge admitted quietly, more disturbed by Rafa's reaction than the memory itself. "It would have been inconvenient for me to have to keep drinking water and waiting to settle down. So I drank the potion as quickly as possible and managed to get through the entire conversation with the captain instead of only a few sentences at a time like usual, but the moment the boat launched...well..."
"So did you," Mi'ishaen supplemented, sticking the last of her limp carrots into her mouth.
"...and I'm certain that as the last of the potion was leaving me, I heard that the captain still intended to go lend aid to his people. But I was confused, thinking him to be just as Mulhorandi as the rest of his crew, so I said nothing; I merely cleaned my mess in silence. Just as I finished this, Ides-Raz stormed over and spoke harshly to me-"
"I love how he punishes you for something that's his fault," Rafa snorted, taking a pull of his ale. This done, he began poking at his cold potato again.
"-and demanded that I brew a form of the potion that didn't make me sick...which...doesn't really exist. Well, it turned out that the captain, for some reason, changed course dramatically. He landed at Emmech and told me it was Escalant, which I then told Ashok, not knowing any better. Turned out that we'd been set down blindly in the middle of a war between Thay and any other Human, Elf or Halfling that crossed their path. Ides-Ras was less than pleased... and that was when my hair got burned all the way off the second time-"
"The first time was nine, right?" Mi'ishaen asked, putting her fork down completely.
"That's right," Silveredge replied, moving some carrots from her plate to Mi'ishaen's. "When did I-"
"Before you hit the rock, or shell, or whatever that was down there," the Tiefling responded. "Are you sure-"
"I'm certain you'll put them to better use," Silveredge nodded. "Besides, you gave me your roll."
"I can't fathom this man you're describing," Rafa mused, deciding not to annoy his potato any longer. "How did he not understand that nearly everyone around him took offense at the way he mistreated you for his own enjoyment's sake? We drink."
"Hang on, I haven't any left," Mi'ishaen said suddenly as Silveredge began to raise her tankard. "Pass me the-"
But Silveredge had already put down her tankard in favor of the sweating pitcher, which sat in the middle of the table as though it were a vase of flowers. Pulling it toward herself, she carefully tipped what was left of the ale into Mi'ishaen's cup- a large earthenware mug that was so badly chipped on the bottom that the Tiefling had twice checked for leaks before she would drink from it. Once he saw that Silveredge was satisfied with her work, Rafa reached over and gently took the empty pitcher from her. He had only to raise it slightly for the attentive young Human who served their table to come and take it from him. Silveredge smiled her thanks, then raised her tankard briefly while everyone else at the table drank.
"It touches the most beloved, now," Silveredge said shyly when everyone had rested their drinks on the table again.
Working on her third cup full of ale had done wonders for Mi'ishaen's circulation, and the crimson of her already-ruddy cheeks grew even more intense. Rafa noted this, then leaned over to Aleksei, who was mincing his potato with his claws.
"What do you say we take the floor and leave them the bed?"
"Always Rasha will take lowest place she can," Aleksei noted. "Even if you go to the floor, she will lay there with you."
"I do not think you have ever left the land, have you?" Silveredge asked quietly. "I'll change the location, if-"
"Think of what you're telling me, man," Rafa replied with a raised eyebrow. "If the Tiefling were on the highest parapet of a chapel, your Rasha would find a way to be near her- and indeed that would be the lowest place she could be."
"No, I've gone on boat before," Mi'ishaen replied, rubbing the back of her neck in thought. "But before we went to Urmlaspyr...well... it had been a while, so- no, that fruit's yours. Take it."
"Gazposha Ranclyffe is teaching me much," Aleksei said, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh. "Everything you say is speaking of affection for both women."
Rafa nearly choked on his drink at that, and his next words were accompanied by an indignant glare. "Affection for- look you, I'm a married man!"
Aleksei shrugged, watching Silveredge and Mi'ishaen again renegotiate which one of them would eat what between their plates.
"A hound with strong chains will bark, if fresh quarry is close."
Rafa narrowed his eyes at Aleksei, then tapped his ale to the table to get the women's attention. "Here, ladies, a toast to the drowning of this male's good sense."
"Nothing doing; he's easily the best drunk here," Mi'ishaen offered with a laugh. Silveredge nodded her agreement, but added nothing, since she had a large piece of baked apple in her mouth.
"This is over time," Aleksei smirked sheepishly. "I am becoming better drunk with practice."
"Well, it's not as though you've not had reason," Rafa admitted. "A bard would weep all night for you."
"That bard needs different work," Aleksei shrugged. "This is point of game, you see. It is appearing naturally in a tavern in Razortear, maybe... eh... sixteen, seventeen years ago. I am not there, but my staff father is telling me of it, because it is much amusing him, and he is making into game."
"Go on, tell it," Mi'ishaen urged playfully. "You could compel the worst of audiences."
"Well, that explains a lot," Rafa muttered under his breath, only to catch a knowing look from Silveredge as she popped another piece of apple into her mouth.
"Two generals, defeated, are meeting in a tavern, one a Tiefling and one a Dragonborn," Aleksei began. "Many are thinking that this is uncommon, but after Tieflings are smashing through Razortear, some Dragonborn are deciding not to close their doors, but instead to carry on as always they are doing before. So this tavern is open, and it is serving both generals, who at first are sitting apart. But soon Dragonborn is curious about why Tiefling is sitting quietly, only looking into his drink without drinking it. So he sits at Tiefling's table, and he says, 'My ancestral sword is lost, because of you.' Tiefling general looks up and says, 'Drink, and drown your whining. My mother's pendant is ripped from my chest, because of you.' The Dragonborn is feeling insult, and he says, 'Two hundred of my charge are no longer living, because of you.' And the Tiefling is laughing sadly; he says, 'Drink, I tell you. I am having five hundred, and none are now with me.' Now, the Dragonborn is filled with wicked pride, because he believes he is in contest with this Tiefling, who is laughing at death itself. So Dragonborn says, 'Twenty strange creatures from the ground are rising up to eat my wife and children; it is nearly costing my life to kill them.' And Tiefling only says, 'Drink. Those creatures are kruthnik, only pretending that we Tieflings are in command until we free them. My charge of five hundred is destroying my village, and I alone am killing most of them, on fire with the screams of my people. They are coming here to attack your children only because there is no more meat on my children's bones for them to eat; the last I am doing for my people is allowing their killers to follow the scent of the one who is getting away.' The Dragonborn considers the Tiefling's words, and he drinks quietly until there is no more in his flagon. He is then putting his dagger on the table between them. He says only, 'For honor.' And the Tiefling takes the dagger in grave silence, and leaves."
The group stared at each other for a few moments before Mi'ishaen split the sodden silence.
"And your elder thought to make a drinking game out of that?"
Aleksei shrugged. "My staff father is having very different sense of humor than many others. He says to me that in the end, Arkhosia is becoming so much like Bael Turath that he is not always knowing which to mourn."
"I get it," Rafa mused. "I get why he would laugh at that- and bitterly, too."
"We should perhaps to drink to him," Silveredge noted distantly, staring off into space as she whirled in her own thoughts.
"You're right," Mi'ishaen proclaimed, starting in on her ale. She leaned slightly so that her back gently brushed Silveredge's shoulder, and the Shadar-kai snapped out of her reverie long enough to slowly sip at her own ale.
"He would very much like that," Aleksei nodded as he considered his ale for a few moments. "He is much favoring light brews; he is saying that because he drinks this, he is not having to make as much water as the rest of us. I am one night counting how many times everyone makes water. I am making record in front of him, then hiding it away from myself. In the morning, I go to him with it, saying, 'Staff father, you are making just as much water as everyone else.' He cannot tell me I am wrong, because he is not remembering how many times he is making water; he is not even remembering that he is seeing me make record. So, he is doing the only thing he can do."
"He whalloped the daylight out of you, didn't he?" Rafa grinned.
"With laughter," replied the Dragonborn, who was smiling himself.
"Sure, his sense of humor, sure," Rafa chuckled, toasting Aleksei with a slight bow of his head. As he took a drink, he noticed a figure that tugged at the edge of his rapidly melting memory. When the figure turned around and fixed him with a green-eyed glare, however, the confusion fled from his mind. "Oh, gods, it's the boy."
"Blade Unessmus!" Iordyn called as he moved toward the table. "Drinking on duty? With the prisoner bare of chains?"
"You are not seeing chains, but they are here," Aleksei replied simply.
"There- mad as a march hare," Iordyn lamented, patting the Dragonborn's shoulder gently. "I should hope the mage in Suzail does you some good."
"If he can make you leave us alone, he's done plenty," Mi'ishaen sighed, much to Silveredge's amusement.
"I asked for room in the name of the Crown," Rafa reported. "I gave his live-in woman all the monies I had left to me for food, since he would not take payment himself, and we have thus far enjoyed two full pitchers of their generosity. What, should Lathander now champion ungratefulness?"
"Oh, that's grave danger you're putting yourself in, twisting true teachings that way," Iordyn warned, coming close to the table so that he could whisper and still be heard.
"Danger is an unarmed archer annoying a swordsman who's required by law to carry his weapon at all times," Rafa replied, unimpressed. "Yet, I'm surprised to see you well enough to warn me of impending doom at the hands of an angry god."
"The potion was incredibly effective- so much so that my mother would very much like to know the weeds you used to make it," Iordyn smiled to Silveredge, who felt herself blushing. "Further, these accommodations are ridiculous- mold on the floors, dents and chips in the cups, knots and pests in all the wood- you'll catch a disease to make what riddles his brain look tame. Come, stay with me and my-"
"No!" Rafa and Mi'ishaen said at once. Silveredge put both hands on her mouth immediately, but Aleksei fearlessly laughed at the stereo rejection.
"I only thought to right the slight my parents gave you- to apologize for their behavior- I figured perhaps I might even find some way to make it up to you."
"Take your father's letter and tell him to pay a proper messenger," Mi'ishaen snorted, taking another drink.
Iordyn opened his mouth to say something stern, but thought better of it right before the first syllable left his mouth. With a smile and a small bow, he said, "I'll certainly take my father's letter, and I'll travel with you to deliver it myself. On the way, I'll be able to properly explain the glorious teachings of Lathander-"
"Stabbed yourself through the foot with that one, madam," Rafa scoffed. "The only trouble is, now we all have to deal with him and the 'glorious teachings'- gods save us."
"Oh, no," Mi'ishaen groaned, putting her head on the table.
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