It has been one day since Sweiza and Strife last spoke; the poor girl has been passing in and out of consciousness. Most of her time has been spent sleeping—with the few times in the waking world either to eat, ingest liquid or relieve herself. No time for fun, and she often simply walks by Sprite without a word. She is tired, he knows it. On that final hour of nearly a day passing, Sprite finally sees her rouse from sleep.

His wings perk when he sees Sweiza rustle in the covers of the bed. Something audible from her lips, “Mm, Lester… warm and moist like cake.”

His ears perk as he crosses his arms. If he gets her attention soon enough, he’ll know what the dream was about.

More rustling of the covers. Suddenly the girl’s arms pull tight and she lets out a yawn. She flips up to a sitting position and is greeted to Sprite hovering at eye level.

“Well?” He arms cross at her.

Sweiza blinks once. “Well what?” She refrains from trying to giggle nervously. It won’t work on him.

“Well what? What was the dream about?” He shoots his index finger at her nose.

Sweiza’s head tilts.

“Lester, warm and moist like cake… What did it mean?” His arms cradle, but he quickly darts in front of her nose.

She looks down at him in annoyance. “If you really must be a little pest…” She scoots her legs off the bed and to the floor, “Lester and I had this wonderful idea of sharing chocolate cake between us over a kiss. Not that that is any of your funny business business!”

“You promised wedding cake and I’d be the ring bearer!”

Sweiza jumps to a standing position and swats her hand towards him, he evades it as easily as ever. “You little runt! You don’t deserve cake; and you don’t serve chocolate cake at a wedding! And… and… dreams are private!”

Sprite closes one eye and makes a peaking motion with his hands. He then sticks his tongue out at her.

“Too hyper! No sweet things!” Sweiza widens her eyes in defiance at him.

Sprite takes a hit and noticeably jolts. He winces at her and then sticks his tongue out again; this time he makes a face at her. Just as Sweiza takes a step forward, Sprite darts off towards the stairs.

“Hmph! Serves you right Dewey!”

Sprite charges back down the stairs glowing. He sticks out his tongue and makes another face at her he flies off… again.

Sweiza looks up towards the ceiling in disbelief. At least things are back to normal. Well, fat least as far as normal (in her mind) is concerned.

—-

Up in the cabin area of the ‘Gigas Dura’, Sweiza sees someone she isn’t familiar with piloting the helm. Her attention shifts towards the front window. She sees Strife up at the bow of the ship. The woman has a familiar spyglass.

“Does she ever get rid of that thing?” She mentions it outloud, not used to having extra company around them. The gentlemen at the steering wheel is about to say something, but Sweiza is already towards the door. She gives one last look at him and then the door shuts behind her.

There are multiple people on deck. Sweiza gives them no attention. She scrapes her heels on the ground as she nears Strife. Strife blinks once and the spyglass lowers.

“Vera, very good.” Strife bows to her.

Sweiza crosses her arms and taps her foot; she shoots a hard expression at Strife. Strife’s eyebrows cock up in amusement; a smile follows soon after. Sweiza’s body language changes to something lighter and a smile also creeps on her face. She finally flushes out a laugh and her arms drop. She shakes her finger at Strife.

“I suppose we are even now.” Sweiza says it while slowly approaching.

Strife looks up thoughtfully, “I suppose having the life sucked out of you is no different than turning to stone. Yes, I think we are even… at least for now.”

Strife clicks her heels together. “If you will excuse me Vera, I must get back to surveying the horizon. Good day to you.”

Sweiza refrains from stammering, this woman is now her colleague. “Yes ma’am. May we live rather than die in future endeavors.”

Sweiza bows and Strife nods once before turning around; her eye goes back up to the spyglass.

Sweiza turns around to survey the people on deck, and then the gentlemen in the cabin. Although crowded (cozy is what she would call it), the ‘Gigas Dura’ looks a bit more lively with a crew. But most importantly, it isn’t lonely. She is going to have some fun getting to know these people, at least if not for another day—when they will arrive in Bothnin. Perhaps a few of them will stay? Better get to know them sooner, now than later!

—

Over the next few hours, Sweiza chats about this and that with the new ‘crew’ of the ship. People across many different cultures have crossed paths on this boat; their ages range from young to old, as do their experiences. She becomes well acquainted with them in the short time she speaks with them.

Elga Laufeia, a ten year old girl from Muspell. She was with her mother (a merchant), when their ship the “Stony Reef Cutter” ran into a black mist in broad daylight. They ran aground on the same sandbar as the Gigas Dura. Subsequent parties sent out to the nearby lighthouse and island had noone returning. Eventually Delphins and Alcyon came aboard and helped them to the island. She was separated from her mother. She learned of her mother’s fate when rescued by Strife and Surt. She likes cooking, coloring, and playing games with string. She is good with the yoyo and knows how to play the piano. When she gets older, she dreams of being a singer and a good housewife.

Lock Rutledge, a twenty-two year old male from Midgard; he served as a guard aboard the ‘Draco Helm”, a military vessel that accompanied merchant vessels to protect them from piracy. Loosely associated with Valhalla, the ship primarily served the North Midgard Coast; however, it was known to patrol the eastern and southern borders as well. The ‘Draco Helm’ was accompanying the merchant ship “Stony Reef Cutter”; a black mist rolled in and they were separated. When the fog cleared some days later, they were attacked by a mercenary group. They were captured as prisoners with their fate uncertain until Delphis and Alcyon’s plans went into motion. Lock has no family; although he aspires to be a great husband and father someday. He is quite good at the harmonica, his main hobby is cooking. He is proficient with the sword, but his weapon was taken from him by one of the mercenaries. When asked, he was uncertain about the fate of the Draco Helm. As it turns out, while Sweiza was recovering, Strife had the Gigas Dura circle the island a few times. They found the Draco Helm sunk in shallow water; this was much to Lock’s dismay.

Olaf Hafleiker, a Muspellian native to Muspell Harbor. He is in his thirty-eighth year and is most at home on the water. He is a fisherman by trade and ‘was’ the Captain of the “Northern Pike”, named after the fish of the same name. He had a crew of five. They would often spend a week or two looking for great fishing spots and then send out large nets to make a living. The ‘North Pike’ had a special loft built towards the aft (rear) of the ship that was enchanted with ice magic. A glorified metal ice box, it helped keep the cleaned meat of fish frozen until they got it back to Muspell Harbor. When Sweiza asked him if his crew actually cleaned all of their fish by hand—he simply bowed and said, “Ma’lady, fisherman live and die by the sea, it is a way of life.” What he most regrets is not being able to see his crew. His ship ran aground on a sandbar south of the lighthouse island. The mercenaries of Delphis and Alcyon were quick to respond to the strangers. Olaf’s crew had light armaments only and did not last long. Olaf himself was knocked out and only remembers awakening to being gagged. Before he was thrown into the ‘crystalen pyramid’ he was informed by Delphis that his ship was sunk for his crew’s efforts. Olaf managed to backhand him before he was restrained. When he finally arrives in Bothnin, he intends to get another ship and crew, then continue his way of life.

Esbjorn Folker is tall for a dwarf, but he says his family eats well due to their merchant status. He is fifty-eight and has been a merchant for most of his life. He was one of many merchants aboard “The Timberland” before it was attacked by Delphis and Alcyon’s mercenaries. The entire ship was ransacked and sunk. Anyone who fought was stunned by some kind of strange weapon—he likened it to a whip, but with a line like a fishing pole; when swung it would shoot out lightning and drop people to the ground. He still remembers the screams. Esbjorn was one of the first wave of people from ‘The Timberland’ to be thrown into the pyramid. He doesn’t remember anything after that. When asked if he has a familiy he can return to, he simply said there is a woman in ‘Alfgard’ that he fancies. He later encouraged Sweiza to see the nine-realms with her own eyes before she ever settles down with her boyfriend ‘Lester’.

Sweiza’s first real surprise was Vali Havlock; his elven ears were unmistakable. He is about what she would expect from an elf—quiet, reserved and contemplative. In her mind, he was a very tough walnut to crack. She did learn a few things about him. He wouldn’t give his age, but he looked on the younger side; which isn’t saying much since those with elven blood live longer lives. She learned he is a scientist and he studies botany. She didn’t know what the word meant, but he explained it meant ‘the study of plants’. She tried to inquire further, but he shooed her away. He was more receptive during ‘tea’ with Strife. As it turned out, his ship was a research and exploration vessel headed for Myrkvellir. However, a black mist rolled in and they were attacked by what they thought were pirates. Delphis and Alcyon were behind it. Sweiza tried to inquire further, he rebuked her and refused to speak to her further.

She found their current ‘relief helmsman’, Torry Enders, to be most pleasant in his manners and disposition. A fifty-eight year old dwarvan soldier from Bothnin, he has a very respectful, if not jolly air about him. He hasn’t truly left the area, but he has seen bits and pieces of Muspell, Niffleheim, Myrkvellir, Jotunher, and of course he’s been to the many areas of Svarta. His favorite part of his job? Ail, beer, whiskey, anything alcoholic. If it involves being in a party, he’ll happily stand guard. He is a man of many talents—singing, dancing, different languages, fixing ships, differing weapon forms (bow and arrow, pike, sword, javelin, twin sword, etc.) and he is quite good with the ladies by his reckoning. He is more of a freelance mercenary for hire if the price is right. He doesn’t have any hobbies, although he does enjoy tracking the stars, movements of the moons, and predicting weather patterns. Mr. Enders found himself under attack on ‘The Timberland’, from Delphis and Alcyon’s forces.

Lars Invar hasn’t hit his twenties yet, he is a young adult male from Alfgard. Unlike Vali Havlock, he is more talkative; it was no exception during tea time with Strife. Sweiza learned a great deal about Alfgard. They have an isolationist attitude, and save for a few that travel abroad, act as emissaries (traders/merchants, politicians, warriors, etc.) or otherwise flee the scene entirely, those of Alfgard-kin, are not normally seen out and about, let alone in public and worldly affairs ‘abroad’. Lars Invar wanted to be a soldier that travels the world, but he was deemed ‘inadequate’ next to his peers. He left the country in hopes of achieving his dream in Valhalla

Ulla Signa is an older woman in her seventies. She left Vanir with her husband Herald, both in hopes of retirement in a more rugged country. Vanir, Alfgard and Midgard had too many prying eyes and those of the nosy sort; Myrkvellir fit the bill, but there were ‘strange happenings’ going on there, so they looked towards a more settled area. Their calling was Bothnin and beyond in Svarta. However, a black mist came in on ‘The Timberland’ and they ran into Delphis and Alcyon. Her husband was drained of his life in front of her. She would have joined his fate, but she knows her husband would want her to live on with his memory. She enjoyed adventure and exploration with her husband in Vanir. Her hobbies include tea, knitting, archery and constructing weapons. Those last two got an eyebrow from Sweiza; it turns out weapon construction and archery were originally hobbies of her husband.

Lastly, the name “Douglas Fredi” rang some memory bells in her head. He is the chief scholar of Adavan in Vanir. Douglas thought she was an odd sort, but enjoyed conversing with her anyway. She was about to mention she met him in the future in one of her dreams, but was stopped and literally jumped when she heard Salmira’s voice in her thoughts. Salmira gave one warning, “Do not tell him or it will change future events.” Sweiza gave the warning her full concern. As it turns out, Vanir is closely tied to Midgard after they had a war some years back. Vanir is associated with magic study, specifically light magic. It isn’t allowed in Valhalla, so it is outsourced to other countries. When asked about his age, Douglas simply forgets. He thinks he was born about a half century ago, but his work (magic and scholarly study) keeps him occupied, so the days and months come and go. When asked about his hobbies, he said reading—this one did not come as a surprise, as by now Sweiza figures those from Vanir and Alfgard lock themselves away for some kind of ‘enlightenment’ or scholarly works that mere mortals would never engage in. When asked about Delphis and Alcyon, Douglas said he (himself) was the reason ‘The Timberland’ was attacked—his knowledge and insight on things like light magic and alchemy would be enough to wet any villain’s palette. Sweiza was chastised by Strife when she (Sweiza) tried to inquire further; no doubt because she (Strife) could tell Sweiza about it herself when the dust has settled and the air thinned without the prying ears of their ‘guests’.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

—-

Lunch and Dinner go by without issue. It is towards evening that shooting stars make themselves known.

“Moonsticks!” Sweiza says it outloud in front of Strife.

Strife simply tilts her head slightly, “Are you calling shooting stars a bad thing?”

“Shooting stars are supposed to be eventful!” Sweiza says it as a matter of fact. Her eyes close while she does it, she doesn’t need to see Strife’s response.

“It is funny that you say that then...” Strife says it more serious.

Sweiza’s eyes open in confusion.

“Look for yourself.” Strife hands her the spyglass and points it to a very specific direction just off the starboard (right) side of the ship.

Sweiza squints. “I can’t se…” She stops when she sees the cliffs in the distance.

“All I see are cliffs…” Sweiza sounds unimpressed. “…is that Bothnin?”

“Wait until we get closer. It might take an hour or two.” Strife says it as she collapses the spyglass in her hands and makes it disappear; she wastes no time and walks toward the cabin on deck.

Sweiza’s head follows the woman’s direction.

—

With Strife conversing with a few of their ‘crew’ over a map at the table in the cabin, Sweiza has a few hours to do ‘whatever’. She’s not interested in talking about battles, or their next location—she knows it will be Myrkvellir after Bothnin, or something inbetween Salmira providing. Instead, this is a wonderful opportunity for story telling. Naturally she, Elga (the young girl) and Sprite are around Torry (the dwarf helsman) as he pilots the ship; he has some unusual stories to tell. A slightly weary Lars (young adult male) is nearby ‘merely’ serving as a lookout; he tries not to go noticed by his captivation with the stories, something about needing to be a ‘lookout’, but he isn’t having much luck fooling anyone.

“He’s big and harry and walks upright like a man.” Torry is enjoying the enchantment of the younglings; if not getting a bit of a reaction. He makes a wide girth with his arm and sways his feet, body, and especially arms, like a great ape.

“You mean sasquatch, right?” Sweiza says it intrigued; her arms cross.

“It goes by many names; but the dwarves call it ‘Bigfoot’.”

“More like big and scary!” Elga hides behind Sweiza, although her head peaks out; she wants more.

Torry’s eyes twinkle at the young girl, he has her full attention, “Most of us dwarves aren’t too worried about him, we’re pretty strong. It’s when our food and ail turns up missing that we’re really concerned. Supposedly that is where the legend comes from anyway, I’ve never actually seen one.”

Elga steps back from behind Sweiza and peaks up at her ‘big sister’, “He’s such a liar!”

“Who said I was lying?” Torry continues staring ahead though the cabin’s window and out towards the bow.

They are interrupted by Strife, “Really Mr. Enders, you should refrain from spooking young children. They’ll believe anything at that age.”

Lars lets out a laugh and quickly stifles himself; Elga’s face flushes red and a big smile creeps up on Sweiza’s face. She (Sweiza) looks up at Sprite. She can see he only has his mind on one thing ‘food’.

“So what does Sasquatch eat?” He flies up to the dwarf, curious as to the answer.

“Supposedly he will eat anything that moves.”

The room falls silent. Sweiza looks away from the social circle and back at Strife. Strife is clearly eavesdropping as the woman is shaking her head sternly at the dwarf. Sweiza wonders if Strife actually likes dwarves or not.

Their conversation turns to Myrkvellir and all manner of nasty creatures that inhabit the region; in particular, the conversation of ‘vampires’ comes up. Sweiza has heard of them, but never seen one. But perhaps it is a myth like this ‘bigfoot’; the latter Sweiza has never seen in all of her explored years in the woods surrounding Maria. But perhaps Strife did double duty serving as sentry for that same village.

—

As the sun begins its final descent—with permission from Strife—Sweiza uses Strife’s spyglass to check on the cliffs again. This time she is entrenched at what she sees. An opening in the face of the cliff—something she assumes lets ships pass through—surrounded on either side by very large dwarven statues carved into the cliff face; the statues are covered in exotic looking armor. What really catches her attention is the presence about the area: large oval shaped balloons hover around the top of the cliff face, cannons adorn the tops of the surrounding cliffs, then large steel ships here and there in the vicinity. She has heard of the technology of the dwarves, the ability to float in balloons, and then impenetrable ships made of metal so strong that cannonballs will simply bounce off; she assumes this is their military.

She turns around and lets out an audible ‘eep’ due to Strife not announcing her presence. Strife clicks her heels together for deliberate effect, “Gaze in awe at the wonders of the dwarves, young apprentice.”

“They seem quite adept!” Sweiza says it, quite surprised at what she saw. It isn’t what she was expecting.

“Valhalla has…how you say…‘uneasy, but open trade relations with them’. We import quite a bit from them to be honest; it is strange that Odin hasn’t accepted the push for an alliance with Svarta. Regardless, most of the wares they have are in fact forbidden in Valhalla due to their enchanted or high technological nature in origin.” Strife says it shaking her head with crossed arms.

“So then why bother?” Sweiza says confused.

“That is the question. It was the belief of those in the know that Odin likes to keep things under his thumbs to maintain his influence.” Strife says it with sharp eyes at the girl. “Perhaps you understand why he needs to be dealt with.”

Sweiza forces a nod. Her head follows Strife as the woman walks back to the cabin.

—

It is roughly three quarters of a league (nautical distance, roughly two miles) from the cliff opening that a smaller metal ship breaks formation and pulls along side the Gigas Dura. They pull a little too close for Sweiza’s liking; she is a little alarmed at the cannons coming out of holes in the ship—they are pointed right at them (on the Gigas Dura). This appears to be a formality, so it shouldn’t be an issue. An official comes out, and begins speaking with Strife; Sweiza’s assumption on the formality is proven correct. Strife is quite friendly with speaking with him; she does her normal click of her heels and lets out several laughs while she speaks with the guard. She produces a paper and shows it to him. He uses some kind of spyglass to see it from less than twenty feet between their ships. He waves his hand in a friendly manner and Strife clicks her heels again. By this point Sweiza’s curiosity has gotten the better of her and she is out on deck. She catches the tail end of the conversation, something about ‘enough Valhallan Ail to trade to keep them busy for awhile’. Sweiza shakes her head. People always drinking—its a bad habit, unless for a party to become a little tipsy; she smiles to herself at the thought.

—

Inside and just beyond the cliffs a surprise awaits her—a massive hollow interior! There are ships everywhere! There are also holes in the ceiling of the ‘cave’ that let light in; in areas where there are not lights, there are lights everywhere. She can see the strange glow of lines rising from the sea and flowing up to what she can only describe as lamps; but they flow with something inside of them not unlike a firefly, but suspended in something water-like. Is this electricity or some variant?

Moreover, what strikes her fancy is all of the buildings hanging from the ceiling. They hang down several stories, much like the tower of an upsidedown castle. However, some of them go straight from the ceiling and into the ground; others stick straight up from the ground and others through the water. They appear to be made of pure stone—how on earth did they make them? But more importantly, how do they prevent water from getting in? It must be an intriguing way of life!

Their ship is moored at one of the docks and another guard meets them. By now, Sweiza in earnest knows she needs to eavesdrop… or at least representing on an official level—listen in on more of Strife’s conversations—she (Sweiza) is a Valkyrie after all. With all the people around her, she doesn’t completely make out everything in great detail, but she gathers enough: “What is a Valkyrie doing in Bothnin? Does Valhalla request an audience? What do you mean Delphis and Alcyon were operating near our waters? Cult of Loki? Preposterous! We may be able to help you with accommodations… provided we can help each other.”

Strife and the entourage stops then and there. “What do you mean?” She says it in a firm tone. Sweiza swears she sees the woman sneering. Does Strife not like it when someone other than her (Strife) attempts to negotiate?

“We’re having an issue with our hydro-electric dam.” The dwarf seems a bit too confident, if not a little weary, of the woman’s attention.

“Really? What kind of problem?!” The woman is definitely interested. Perhaps because she doesn’t have to barter with ail? So Sweiza thinks!

The dwarf backs up with his hands open in front of him, “If you talk to the current harbor magistrate…” He turns back behind him and leans up towards some lights that he points to in the distance, “…about two miles in that direction towards those lights… he can fill you in on our predicament. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other ships to inspect…”

Strife clicks her heels together as the dwarf passes behind her. She doesn’t turn around, but for deliberate effect, she rolls her eyes at Sweiza as he (the dwarf) pass by her. Sweiza’s head tilts in disbelief and confusion. Strife continues walking in the direction the dwarf pointed out. Just as Strife passes Sweiza, she leans in and whispers to her, “Never trust a dwarf.”

Sweiza’s eyes widen in surprise.

“They can be quite haughty in their arrogance! They think they are master negotiators due to their technology level compared with Valhalla.”

Sweiza nods as the woman winks at her and walks off.

—

“You couldn’t keep this under control? Why does this not surprise me?” Strife seems to be toying with them. Sweiza assumes it is a negotiating trick.

“As I said, it was an unforeseen side effect—we did not plan for something like this. Normally we have specially trained guards on boats to keep them away from the dam. But for some reason, this time they went straight for the power plant. We’re not sure why. We’d like you to investigate that as well. In addition to our ‘accommodations’ we agreed on, we would be willing to help give you hazard pay for this ‘opportunity’.”

Sweiza does not like the magistrate’s emphasis on the word ‘opportunity’.

Strife’s arms cross. “And just how many of them have cocooned into Basilisk?”

“We don’t know. But the survivors say a number were left behind and turned to stone.”

Strife shakes her head at the magistrate, “Serves you right, thinking you can outsmart mother nature. This is the fruit of your ‘hard’ work.”

“It was an unforeseen circumstance. I’ve already said that. What we’d like to kno, will you help us or not?” The magistrate at this point is clearly getting annoyed.

Sweiza stares hard between the two of them; she then looks up at Sprite. Torry is also here, so her attention focuses back at him. He nods once with a grin on his face. He likes this attention that the Valkyrie are getting.

Strife taps her foot once, she slams her hand on the table in front of them and raises up her finger at the magistrate, “Not only will I find out why they changed their behavior, my partner and I will drive them from the dam If necessary.”

“That isn’t quite what we had in mind.” The magistrate seems to have put a silence to Strife, if not by leaving her confused. He is delighted at the sudden stoicism in the room. He claps his hands together and one of the task managers behind him walks forward with a small bag. It has several dull red sticks in it. He pulls one out and holds it in front of her.

“Dynamite? You want us to blow up your dam?” Strife’s eyes are wide at the absurdity of it. “It’s your call.”

The magistrate nods once, then looks over at Sweiza, “There is the matter of how their gaze turns people to stone.”

“A mirror would fix that, yes?” Strife is now happy to be down to business.

“Several of our men tried. They were frozen as hard as a golem when it happened. We at first thought it was a bite, but my men later confirmed that the bite will create a supernatural creature.”

Strife’s eyebrows cock up. “Really? I wonder...”

“About?” The magistrate isn’t transfixed on the idea; he just wants the main power back, or at least the problem under ‘control’.

“Concerning that matter of Alcon and Delphis; I saw first hand they had changed their appearance into that of a bat and a wolf. Perhaps Basilik venom?”

“Anything is possible. What we do want you to know is we have your best interests in mind should your attempts be unsuccessful.”

Strife’s arms cross again and her foot taps a few times; her eyes close while she does so. “The crew of the Gigas Dura will be compensated for our efforts, accommodations and all?”

“Quite handsomely. None of my men will go back to the dam; those that did never returned.”

“I see. Maybe this will help tensions between our countries.” Strife says it with her eyes in a glare at the man.

“Perhaps...” The magistrate does not seem intimidated by her bargaining posture.

“Very good then. Vera lets-“ Strife is half turned around when the magistrate beckons for her attention again.

“There was one other thing.”

“…and that is?” Strife cocks an eyebrow up at him.

“…concerning the research of the alchemists…”

“I’ll think about it. You can start by offering medical supplies. My ship also needs to be restocked with food. I wouldn’t mind weapons and some munitions… flintlock and muskets, aren’t they?”

The magistrate nods twice and then claps his hands together three times. Several guards appear in front of the table blocking him from Strife and Sweiza’s view. This meeting is over.

—

Outside the main office, Strife seems rather stoic after the meeting; Torry is another matter, his body language indicates something jovial, almost giddy and child-like in nature. Sweiza cannot understand any of it. She keeps looking at Strife, but the woman doesn’t respond. When Sweiza finally does muster up the courage to say something, Strife snaps at her to stay quiet. They walk in silence for some half mile before the guards depart on either side of them. Strife remains stopped with the group. After the guards disappear in the distance, Strife’s body language slackens and she shoots a chance glance at Sweiza.

“What was all that about?” Sweiza says with some alarm.

“That magistrate thought he could pull one over on us. His negotiating tactics are obvious and dirty. Trying to rope us into this, honestly.” Strife shakes her body and shudders before stomping her foot to the ground, “Never trust a dwarf, right Mr. Enders?”

The dwarf shoots her a smile, “Not on your life.” He shakes his shoulders and arms at the woman with something jovial. “You two are the most fun I’ve had in some time. It was about time someone put him in his place!”

Strife lets out a laugh when he winks at her.

“If you two maidens will excuse me, it has been a spell or two since I have seen the pub.”

Strife and Sweiza look from the dwarf to each other. Sweiza has a big look on her face. Strife can tell.

“Can we?” There is hope in the girl’s voice.

Strife’s eyes roll away from the girl, “Only for official business.”

“Sure Strife, sure. Don’t get too tipsy!” Sweiza says it with giddiness. She chances walking up to her mentor and lightly ribbing her in the ribs with her elbow. Strife shakes her head and shoos the girl away.

“A drink or two shouldn’t hurt. We might be able to find out something useful about Bothnin and its current happenings and such.”

Sweiza looks hopefully from Strife to Torry. Sweiza has a gambit in mind and hopes it might just pay off.