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Cire almost begged off for the night, arguing that he was rather tired and he had already put the two men out more than could reasonably be expected. Neither Gene nor Stacy would hear anything of it though. Stace practically dragged him down the mile-long trail to Sunset proper. Normally, the thrill of being in a new place and meeting new people would have had him tripping over himself. Yet he felt as drained as he had left the dire boars. Only the promise of strong drink kept his legs moving towards town, that and Stace’s large supportive arm guiding him.

Calling the small collection of rugged buildings squished against the woods a 'hamlet' was, in Cire's humble opinion, extremely generous. The first building on his left was a small tanner's shop. Stretched on frames hides dried in the open air. Pungent tannins and acids turned his nose as they passed by it.

A ways off from that was the largest building he had seen by far, a lodge, where the bulk of the hamlet's villagers must reside. On the far side of a wide dirt thoroughfare were several small cabins in a row. These humble dwellings lined the way to their destination.

Raucous laughter, conversation, and bad singing carried through the night air from the only well lit building. Exhaustion receded as they went up the steps to the alehouse. It felt warm, comfortable, and a bit like home. Knots of tension loosened in Cire’s shoulders as he soaked in the atmosphere.

Stout's Tavern, called as such because it was the name of the old gnome who manned the bar. Grumpy, impatient, and of few words, he was the exact opposite of what Cire had come to expect from his barkeeps. The room was crammed full, lively patrons found seats or stood wherever they could. They are definitely breaking the fire code and are far beyond the safe maximum occupancy rating. He chuckled at his own thoughts.

Stacy and Gene led him over to a small table in the far corner of the tavern that had two patrons. They were jealously guarding the remaining seats. As Stacy and Eugene approached the table, both of them stood and leaned over to hug the big ranger and willowy farmer. When they saw Cire, each gave him an appraising look followed by reactions that were not wholly similar.

The male dwarf laughed and reached out, clasping his hand before he had even brought his own arm up, and shook firmly. “Name be Durg, Stone Dwarf an' soon ta be class upgraded warrior. I be mining these days on account o’ needin' a bit o' coin ta get by. That is how I met these here two gorgeous beasts! Stace helps guard the miners from animal attacks n' such. Pleasure ta meet ya boyo.”

Cire gave a hearty laugh, he liked this guy already. Straight to the point, full of determination, already buzzed, and a wee bit full of himself.

“Nice to meet you to Durg. I am Ciresil, but please call me Cire. Those 'two gorgeous beasts' as you put it, already do. I got an introduction to Gene by arrow point, but it's been nothing but friendly since then.”

They shook and sat down to join the rest of the table. Across from him sat quite a beauty, she had high cheek bones, striking raven black hair that pooled around her shoulders, a delicate neck highlighted by a beautiful gemstone, and piercing blue-gray eyes. When she tossed her head back a bit, the points of her ears gave her away as an elf. Her appraising look never let up. Her words seemed to pour out of her like molasses, but the tone was not so sweet. “What is with the eyes?”

Cire blinked, a little taken off guard, no one else he had met so far had mentioned that there was anything different about his eyes. He said the only thing that came to his mind.

“Huh?”

Grumbling, the elf woman repeated herself, but sounded it out even more slowly, like she was talking to a child. “I said, what... is... with... the... eyes?” Then she looked to Gene. “Is his Intelligence score below six or something?”

Insults were not a new thing to Cire. However, at first he had not been sure he was being insulted. The jibe about his intelligence stat was clear enough evidence for him to put the pieces together.

“Do you mean my heterochromia?”

Never having seen his new body in a mirror, or even a pool of water, he had assumed that this trait would not have transitioned with him to this new form.

Everyone at the table but Cire had a puzzled expression on their faces, but it was Durg that spoke. “I dunna know what be this hee-tro chromina, but what the lass be referin' ta be the different color o’ your eyes boyo. The right one be purple and the left one be bright blue.”

Well, I'll be damned. That is not the hazel and blue of before. He had acclimated to the uneasy reactions his eyes had always produced in people. Generally speaking, folks do not like to trust others who are different, even if the difference is only superficial. Only difference now, so far as he could see it, was that it was a little bit more obvious. He looked the rather brusque, but still undeniably attractive, elven woman in the eyes. Put the best shit eating grin on his face that he could and winked.

“Ohhhhh. That only happens when I am looking at ugly people.”

For a brief moment nothing happened. Gene, Stacy, and Durg went silent in shock. Then they lunged for the black haired elf. A tirade of swearing erupted from her mouth as the two men and dwarf held her in place as she struggled. Insults that were more creative and vile than Cire had almost ever heard erupted from her mouth.

He was both impressed and surprised. Chalk another one up to making bad assumptions about people. If she was strong enough to survive here in the valley, he should not have assumed that there was one iota of daintiness in her.

Interesting, while he could not understand her when she dipped into whatever elven language she was speaking, he did pick up a few of the roots here and there. It seemed like Elvish indeed had it’s origins in ‘Divine Elvish.’ In order to get things back on track, he apologized.

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“Sorry. Sorry. I tend to be a little touchy about it. It doesn't mean anything, really. I happen to have two different color eyes. Have you never seen an elf with two different color eyes before? Also, care to share your name? I do not believe we have been introduced.”

Turned out that her name was Selene. After a few tankards of mead her gruff exterior melted into at least a somewhat congenial attitude. Once everyone's spirits were higher, Cire got to know everyone a bit better. A lull in conversation provided him the opportunity to learn more about hist hosts and the island.

“So, Eugene gave me a rough description of the area. Mind sharing where you came from before making Sunset your home? Should help me understand things a bit.”

Durg gulped down the remains of his drink and slapped Cire across the shoulders. “Boyo, ya sure be new ta the area if ya don’t know that most dwarves live in the mountains!”

Jolted forward mead sloshed over Cire’s chin and he sputtered out a response. “I know that Durg! I’m not dumb. I meant where on the island you’re from.”

Durg grinned as he put a new tankard in front of Cire and grabbed one for himself from the center of the table.

“I figured boyo, I was teasin’ ya. Me and most dwarves on Belleria come from other islands or underground. There hasn’t been a true dwarven city on the island in recent memory.”

He took a long draw from his mead before continuing. “I dunna be comin’ from anywhere in particular, I was born in the Deep Dark. Most o’ the islands in the region be connected by tunnels and caverns. Dwarves and others be callin’ it the Deep Dark.”

Selene cut in brusquely, delivering her addition to the conversation in a perfunctory tone. “My home is in the Shadowed Forest, The Tempest Treetops.” She seemed to be examining Cire as she spoke the words, watching for a reaction. She also didn’t appear to have anything else to share.

Stacy began laughing rather heartily and looked over to Gene before smiling warmly. “It’s about time we told Durg and Selene how we met don’t you think Gene? Durg’s been asking since last season and as coy as you pretend to be Selene, I know you’re dying to know as well.”

Eugene shook his head a bit and stood up. He collected the empty mugs and mock glared at Stacy. “Go ahead. I’ve drunk enough and It would be a good way of explaining where we came from. I will get us another round, you go ahead and start.”

Stacy leaned in a bit conspiratorially. “Well, it’s no open secret that we both come around Meadow. Gene grew up on a farm out on the plains. I might not have ever met him if it wasn’t for the wardens. That’s the group that patrols the outskirts of the city and the surrounding countryside.”

Gene returned to the table and set the drinks down before taking his seat. “You see the plains around Meadow are rich and fertile. Lots of farms, bandits, and wild animals. Some of the more dangerous animals will risk attacking a farm to feed on the livestock. But mainly the wardens stop unscrupulous folks from depriving the league of their grain.”

Stacy nodded and cheerfully proceeded with the tale. “I was still in my first tour when out on a long patrol we ran short of supplies. Well, the captain knew a few of the local farmers, he had been at the job for decades. He didn’t want to go back to the city so we restocked at Eugene’s family farm. Fresh horses, fresh eggs, and fresh company.”

Eugene’s lips quirked into a teasing smile. “Let’s just say that it wasn’t the last time that Stacy convinced the captain to stop by the farm. One thing lead to another and the rest is a bard’s tale. We ended up striking out for Sunset with the hopes of better prospects than those waiting for us in the city.”

The table went quiet after the tale, relaxation and intoxication settling in to those gathered. Over the rest of the evening light conversation and continued drinking entertained the group. Cire had been observing the other patrons, lost in the reverie of a good buzz, when his ears pricked up to the conversation at his own table. The moment Cire had been dreading hurtled towards him like an unavoidable magic missile.

“..... so then he tells me spent hours up on the mountain picking flowers with a no Herbalism aptitude!”

All Cire could do at this point was groan.

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Later that evening, after the bar had cleared out, Stacy and Eugene still sat around the small table in the back corner. Stout had long since retired for the evening.

“Stace, you sure he will be okay waking up out there?”

Stacy chuckled a bit, he was peering into his tankard and swirling around its contents.

“He should be fine. Durg thought it was a good idea too, but that isn’t saying much. I doubt either one of them could have walked anywhere, we would have had to carry them. I’m strong, but I doubt I could carry Durg very far. Besides, what if he woke up when he was on my shoulder? Can you imagine his reaction?”

Eugene leaned back and nodded, he was distracted and the humor didn’t take root. “You know we still have to talk about it, right?”

Stacy sighed and nodded, a bit resigned. “I know, it’s not as bad as you’re thinking, but some things don’t add up to be sure. Well, let’s get it out of the way. You know it makes me uncomfortable to talk about what I learn when I read people. The spell lets me see so much.

“To start with, his alignment is neutral. I don’t mean that he has balanced alignments of opposing types, I mean that he has no distinguishing characteristics at all. It’s like he is a newborn. Heck, most kids pick up some sort of alignment characteristic along the way. It’s odd.”

Eugene listened, knowing that interrupting would only make it more difficult for his lover to share the intimate details. Stace took his time, taking a couple of swigs from his drink.

“He’s also level 2, or he was when I cast Nature’s Sincerity. It would have been difficult for him to survive in wilds with nothing. I don’t really understand how he could have done it. What did you notice?”

Eugene smiled and squeezed Stacy’s arm gently, then he left his hand there in reassurance.

“Don’t worry dear. You know I fed him and we offered him succor. Zeus ensures his guest right, we won’t do anything to risk that. It doesn’t mean that we have to be stupid about someone we have as a guest. I am not suggesting anything more than that.

“He is naive as a moon-faced calf and a little too eager to help. You said he wasn’t lying and I have always trusted you. Those facts line up with him coming from another realm and being reincarnated here. Hmmmm...”

Eugene tapped the table with a finger and then squeezed Stacy’s arm again. “He healed faster than I expected from the arrow wounds. I did cram him full of healing herbs, but he was fully recovered by mid-morning. Did you pick up on anything that would explain that?”

Stacy put his hand over the top of Eugene’s and squeezed back. “No, not precisely. You know that the spell only gives me loose feelings when it comes to certain aspects of a person. Alignment, level, and stats are always clear, but everything else is vague. When he was telling us about himself he was holding something back. He may have been completely truthful, but there was something that he was clearly trying to avoid discussing.”

Eugene scooted his chair closer to Stacy’s and leaned his head onto his lover’s broad shoulder. “I got the same feeling and I didn’t have to use magic. Well, we can keep an eye on him and help him out at the same time. Maybe think up a way to test his intentions and moral character.”

Stacy wrapped his arm around Eugene’s shoulders and gave him a hug. They would figure something out, they always had.