Deli started out stern and angry with him, but she was smiling by the time he calmed down from his high.

“The Curse is dealt with?” She asked, happy for him, putting whatever troubled her aside, for the moment.

“This is what we call a good news, bad news situation.” Frank replied.

“Speak plainly.” Deli asked, trying for stern but only getting to annoyed.

“Good news is, I’ve got Agility three and Strength three back.” Frank shared.

Deli nodded firmly. “A success, then. Not whole?”

“Bad news is” Frank went on, “getting rid of the whole thing is going to be harder than I thought. But every part I remove is likely to keep giving me back my Abilities.”

Deli considered that for a moment. “You already got two tiers Frank. How bad is that Curse?”

Frank tried to remember if he’d actually told her about the Curse. He was sure he’d mentioned the details at some point.

“Well, it was six tiers.” “Points”, “so that leaves four, after this.”

Deli shook her head, chuckling. “I’m sorry. I think I may be hearing things Frank. How many Abilities did you say?”

“Uhhh. Six.” Frank repeated.

Deli just kept smiling at him.

“Four now?”

She twitched. “That would make your Threat three and a half Frank.” Deli slowly explained to him, as if he was being dumb.

The pause that followed was awkward. Frank knew he should say something to fill it, but wasn’t sure how to put it in a way that wouldn’t further distress her.

“Yes Frank?” Deli asked, still smiling. The smile was a bit fixed now.

“Technically, when I’m not just free of the curse, but also have had time to fully recover, its threat four. I’m threat four.” Frank sheepishly admitted.

“Four.” Deli flatly repeated. “I’m two and a half. And you’re four.” She took a deep breath. “I’m half a threat level from being nothing but a burden to you.” she concluded.

Frank would have liked to immediately deny that it. But the assessment wasn’t wrong. Staring up at that large an Ability difference, was like looking up at a mountain.

Deli slumped. But only for a moment. She planted her axestaff into the floor, and slapped herself on her cheeks, several times. “I’m going to need training next year too. Just to keep up with you.” Deli sounded committed to the idea, if not happy about it.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad.” Frank reassured her. “We’ll figure out ways to make it fun.”

“Fun? I know your idea of fun, Frank.” Deli told him, voice unimpressed.

Some heat did crawl up his face, but Frank kept his composure, for the most part. “We can make the training fun for both of us.”

Deli snorted. “You getting up?”

Frank tried to get up. Key word being tried. Couldn’t even get his ass off the floor. “Not anytime soon.” He admitted.

Deli frowned at that.

“Take your Challenge. I’ve mana to spare. I’ll be fine now.” Frank interrupted her musing.

She looked from him to the cave entrance and back. Nodded, and walked away. “Don’t blow yourself up while I’m busy.” She tossed back, over her shoulder.

“I won’t.” Frank told her honestly. Just sitting up felt nice. Cold, but nice. He was alright staying right here and enjoying the lightshow for a bit. “And Deli?” Figuring out which Abilities to slot in.

“Hm?” She’d gotten enough space for her Duelling Arena.

“Thanks for looking out for me.”

Deli snorted, loudly. The glare he got for that was heated, and just a bit fond. “Like I’ve got a choice. If I don’t, the house would burn down.”

“No it wouldn’t.” Frank denied immediately. Honesty compelled him to add: “Not on purpose anyway.”

“Aha.” She pointed her axestaff at him in warning. “Don’t. Go. Anywhere.” Turning back to the open space, Deli called out: “Ancestors, I stand before you a warrior, ready to face my Trial!”

Her voice echoed around the cavern, and the room filled with silver light once more. Oddly to Frank, hers didn’t come from above, from the moon, but from the very air around Deli.

“Wonder if different call-outs nab you different angel overseers, different Challenges. Where the way we call out to is like a phone number of a different angel.”

The walls of her Duelling Arena finished forming, cutting her off from him. Frank could still observe, but there was no sound. He watched as she called up a ghost of another, older Axe Breaker. And a far more experienced one, from what followed. The woman she’d called up proceeded to dribble Deli up and down the arena floor, with no more grace then Deli, but far more Skill.

Deli was losing, badly, from the start.

Frank kept wincing, watching it.

She kept losing, taking blows on her armour, dodging, retreating, until Deli started using her weapon to get around. The axestaff pushing off of walls, the floor, and even her opponent. Not that the last one worked more than once. After the first success, the Ancestor proceeded to demonstrate why gifting your opponent the handle of your weapon was a terrible idea. Deli took three more blows, before she got her weapon back. By now, Frank was fairly certain that if the woman beating on her was putting her full Strength into the blows, Deli would be a broken, bleeding mess already.

She wasn’t.

Deli started out losing that fight, and it only got worse as the fight went on. They slid and fought all over the Arena, Deli just trying to survive, and only growing tired for her efforts. She’d never win that way. But she didn’t stop fighting, and she did manage to slip a couple of her own strikes in past the elder’s guard.

After what felt like an hour, but couldn’t have been more than half of one, if not a quarter, they sprang apart. Deli, covered in minor injuries, and a couple of large bruises. Her Health probably not great. The Ancestor was in much better condition.

They both bowed to each other, and talked for a while, before separating. Frank wished he could hear what they were saying. After their talk, the walls came down and the other woman disappeared like smoke.

Frank tried to be supportive about the whole thing. “Well, not the greatest showing, but at least you probably picked up a lot from fighting someone much more proficient with your weapon.”

Deli snapped out of what must have been deep thoughts, confused for a moment. “Frank? My Trial was to survive her assault. I only attacked to ward her off. I won.” She was still breathing hard, but not so much she couldn’t walk or talk.

“You did?” Frank asked, surprised. “I didn’t see a light show.”

Deli looked down at him, waving it aside. “I asked for knowledge, guidance, not power, Frank. A teacher, to set me on a path that will help me keep up with you.”

“Oh. So what’d you get?”

“Advice while the sun is up. She told me to practice my weapon, my dances.” She went on somewhat unsure: “And to ask you to explain the art of pole dancing?”

Frank didn’t even know where to begin with that.

“Frank… is this another sex thing?” Deli asked, sounding exasperated.

Feeling about ten centimetres tall, Frank told Deli: “Not…entirely.” Seeing the resigned expression on her face he added: “It’s also good exercise! Acrobatic, great for Agility.”

Deli put her head in her hands. She sighed. Looked up at the dark ceiling.

“Ancestors, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“What?”

“Get up.” she insisted.

Frank had had a bit of time to rest. He still felt weak, was covered in burns and his arm hurt. But most of that would pass. He managed to struggle to his feet. “Where are we going?”

“Up. You are going to teach me this dance, before the Pale Gate arrives.”

“By noon? I can’t teach you how to pole dance by noon.” Frank objected.

“You will try.” Deli promised him.

“I mean, I don’t know how to do it myself! It’s mostly a female sport!”

***

Frank watched Deli practice her moves, nearly speechless. He’d done his best to explain how a woman could pole dance, but his was the perspective of someone that watched, not a performer. Besides, they all did it with poles that were much longer, and firmly fixed in place.

Deli didn’t care one bit about any of the seductive, slow motions. Except to acknowledge that some of them could be graceful, or good practice for someone with less Agility.

She crashed into the snow again, the axestaff tangled up in her feet. Got up, panting, and tried again.

No, what Deli had taken out of the entire art of pole dancing were the grips and rotation points. How to use her joints, ankles and knee, to pin the pole between them, and hold it, spin it without using her hands. How to try the same with shoulders, elbows. Deli was stumbling and falling, again and again. Flailing around with little success. She had to dive to the ground or twist about awkwardly not to hit herself multiple times. But every now and again, she’d pull something cool off.

Deli slammed face first into the snow again.

When she did pull off a move, it looked so natural, so graceful, it was as if Frank was the stupid one. He certainly felt like an idiot. “I spent months trying to discover or develop an Agility based fighting style for my spear, and never thought to try any of this.”

Deli set herself up again. Axestaff in hands, held close to herself, one foot in front of the other. As the imagined enemy came at her, the butt of the weapon wavered, slipping between her feet, as if she was about the trip herself. She let go of it, hands raised up, like she was trying to fend off a couple of daggers that were entirely too close.

It was the obvious weakness of all polearms. If someone had something short, sharp, and got under his guard, Frank would struggle with defending himself. That was part of the reason why Empire spearmen had shields. To guard with and use the shield as a wall to push the enemy away into optimal spear range.

Deli stepped back, hands grabbing for imaginary wrists, to hold the enemy off for a moment. As she stepped back, she tripped on the pole.

No. Ankle and knee worked together for once. Like two points of a fulcrum, the axehead spun around Deli, close to her, rotating as her feet did. It lacked the force to complete the rotation, falling in the snow to her side.

She reset, and kept trying. And trying.

Until one time, her step back wasn’t so much a step as swing from her knee, where the knee was just the point of contact. She somehow put her whole body into it, sweeping back from the knee. The head of the weapon came swinging around her, spike first, as fast as in any blow wielded by hand.

If there had been someone in front of her, they would have taken a spike to the ribs. Of course, then the axestaff would have fallen into the snow, momentum spent.

It still looked impractical as hell to Frank. But he’d seen what some of the higher Ability people could do. At fours and fives, strictly practical limitations started breaking. It was like that martial arts quote: a black belt in any serious style was better than a casual in any other.

Frank just couldn’t see how this would lead to a serious style, instead of being a complete waste of her time. Then she’d do some insane spin/kick/twirl thing, and he’d almost believe there was something to it.

Letting go of your weapon was the biggest mistake a fighter could make. Any serious opponent would know to knock her weapon away, or grab it. Deli kept letting go of her weapon; trying to hold on to it with other parts of her body that weren’t built for holding a pole. It didn’t work.

Except when, somehow, it did. Deli would try and try and try, rest a little, nodding, and making faces, like she was actually listening to someone. Then get up and try again. And the whole jumbled together movement set would get a bit smoother, a bit more graceful.

Every time it happened, Frank caught another glimpse of something. Something that could almost work.

Because Deli?

Deli was learning how to grip and wield her weapon with her whole body. Which was ridiculous and left him speechless.

Finally worn out by the whole thing, Deli crashed into the blanket next to him, groaning and fighting for breath. She ripped her boots off, one by one. Wiggled the fingers on her sock clad feet. “Need. To learn. Grip better. With these.”

“How are you supposed to do that through your boots?” Frank wanted to ask.

…

Frank’s mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. Deli didn’t notice, focused on her breathing.

“Who. Made. Style?”

Finally, he found the right words: “I think you did. Are. Just now.”

Deli looked annoyed when she turned to him. Seeing the stupefied look on his face, she blushed a bit, and shook her face. “Flatterer.”

She didn’t believe him. Frank couldn’t believe it either.

***

They’d gone inside, out of the cold, to recover and wait for the moon to finish its descent. The communal hall of the caravan section was crowded. Everyone was on tenterhooks. Some anxious, some excited, all expectant. Waiting to see how they’d done.

Frank had managed to recover from being brained with the fact he’d wasted months of free time working on a style and completely missing the point. “When I get my Agility four back, I can try it myself.”

It was a silver lining on a painful lesson. The other good thing in all this was that he’d figured out what was going on with Deli.

Now usually, to get a fighting style Skill, one needed a teacher. Martial art masters who discovered new ones were few and far between. They were famous for inventing a style, every single one of them.

Not amateurs like Deli.

Because for all her Ability and grace, she was still mostly coasting on her Strength and Agility. Someone with the same gifts, and the Skill to get the most out of them would take her apart.

But, she had two things helping her jump the gap. The first was, what Deli admitted was a voice of some ancient Ancestor teaching her. Said teacher had travelled far to the south, into the Dead Swamps, beyond even the Deep Sands in the south of the continent. There, a strange kind of short people fought in the mud, using poles to get around the thickly forested and always flooded marshes.

Once Deli had shown him some of their movements, from the stories of her mentor, Frank told her it reminded him of pole-vaulters. Thank the Gods she didn’t probe where he’d heard of them. Frank had panicked she would, and come up with a lie on the spot that dwarves in the mountains used them to cross small cracks in the glaciers and cliffs up in the mountains.

Which sounded ridiculous to him, on reflection.

Point was, Deli had gotten, for the day till dusk, the service of a woman who’d seen someone use a similar style. Just in mud, not snow. So she wasn’t inventing one, as much as copying it from the tales of a traveller that had the opportunity to learn it.

The second thing letting her skip past all the difficulties?

Frank had a feeling it was him.

Outsider (Invited Invader)

Otherworldly II: Thy carry the thoughts and paths of another world. Skills, skill groups, types, rarity and difficulty all re-arranged.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Disruptive II (Outsider) May create new skills from Outsider ways. May teach and spread them.

Frank suspected he was seeing the first practical application of Disruptive II, on someone who wasn’t him. He left her to her talks with her teacher. Deli wanted to use all the time she had with her, and Frank supported her in that.

Looking around, the communal room reminded him of his student dorm lunch room. It was large, square, with dozens of tables. Probably enough to seat more than a hundred people. The room had a high ceiling, four, maybe even five meters, near the top. It was like a church, arched between the two longer walls.

Within, there were three circles of tables. The ones against the wall, where children and fire keepers sat for the most part. Frank and Deli had claimed one of the free tables there to avoid the smoke, due to Deli’s Body one. The air was clear today, or at least mostly clear.

The inner circle of tables was for watchers and apprentices, surrounding a ring set into the floor, and lowered by about a foot. Lit braziers were spread around the ring, lighting up the room with firelight. Something must have been added to them, as the entire room smelled of pleasant herbs today. A mix of flowers and freshly cut grass.

Inside the ring were the more dangerous crafts, like smithing, and Frank’s own carving. If the Health Brew was being cooked, it would probably be done in the centre too, and armour repairs and leatherwork were usually done in the middle. It had a drain in the middle, for ease of washing away waste.

The middle tables were for everyone else. Most of the tables today were occupied.

Seeing a familiar face, Frank waved. Cherna hesitated, crossing the room, but did turn to approach their seats. As she approached, Frank noticed she wasn’t looking too good herself. Her hair was combed and orderly, but there were lines on her face, black under her wide light brown eyes. She wasn’t getting much sleep.

Cherna was also out of her pilgrim robes, and dressed only in the undershirt and pants that people carried at home. That and a short skirt over the pants, with a mid-thigh hemline. Her shirt and pants were a deep, dark blue, with a bright green skirt.

Frank glanced around to room to confirm something he’d noted about the Ilvir culture. He couldn’t recall everyone off the top of his head, but of the people he recognised, every single one dressed in only inner clothes was a firekeeper, or off duty. Even those were armed. Cherna’s club was nowhere to be seen.

Firekeepers didn’t wear other layers, because they never went out for long. Frank hadn’t expected Cherna to be one.

“Deli, my girl! You’re looking well.” Cherna greeted, some of the weight lifting from her shoulders as she found joy in meeting them again. Or at least Deli.

“Being a warrior has been good for you. Axe Breaker, I hear?”

“Yes Cherna.” Deli answered, filled with pride. “I’m hoping to get the Skill for it, today.”

“Well done, well done.” Cherna hugged Deli.

“Frank. You’re looking less scraggly, yourself.” She greeted with a nod. Her voice was normal, but something was just a bit off in it. Frank couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

“Had a bit of a wakeup call. Come, sit, how you’ve been?” Frank invited.

“Of course I’m less scraggly. I shaved.”

Not the whole thing, not down to bare skin. It was a bit embarrassing to admit, but he never really learned how to do it with just a blade. Never needed to, with servants around. “For all the trouble it put me through, life in the Empire did leave me just a bit spoiled, in some ways.”

Frank did manage to get rid of the moustache. Well, most of it. He didn’t want to risk cutting himself and losing even a point of Health to a mistake. He’d need to find someone to do the job properly.

Cherna plopped down into the offered chair with gratitude. “I’ve been as busy as a bee in spring. They’ve got us all running ragged.”

Taking a closer look at her, Cherna didn’t look terrible, but she was worn down.

Deli nodded knowingly. “All the Growers are pressed. The Reclamation wasn’t meant for this many. The fields planted aren’t enough. We-They have to make up the difference.” Deli was quick to correct herself, pretending she hadn’t said anything different.

Cherna followed her lead. “Aye. We’ve been scrambling to clear fields, inspect them for any gifts the damn demons might have left behind. That’s the troublesome part. Tis unnerving, walking a field and having a foot drop into one of them holes.” Cherna complained.

“You’re finding those up here too?” Frank asked.

“Aye. All over the place. When it isn’t some foul thing buried just under the soil, that spits out air that bites. That’s mostly done with, the Master pulled back our Hunters to sweep them for us, quarter last, but it’s been a proper shitshow. Some of the soil is poisoned, deeper in. Only way to tell is after the crop grows twisted.”

Deli offered up her cup in commiseration. They clinked and drank. Cherna was drinking snowmelt water.

“You want milk, mead?” Frank offered.

Cherna was taken aback. “You don’t owe me nothing.” She part said, part asked.

“We’re celebrating.” Frank was quick to head off any talk of debt. “We both won our challenges.”

Just then, Lilijah pranced into the room, smug as a cat that ate the canary.

“Make that three for three.”

Exuberant, and laughing, Lilijah slipped into the seat next to Frank and hugged him. It was brief, but heartfelt. “You’re making me more of those.” She told the table.

Frank felt a trickle of alarm. “Sure. Just, you are aware you aren’t supposed to bring any of them close to each other.”

Lilijah scoffed. “I know, I listened. They only blew up once.”

“I have several stones on me.” Frank deadpanned.

Lilijah paused. Then she ran for the middle of the room, dodging around tables. She dumped the two stones Frank had felt reacting into the middle of Frank’s work area. “Blast!” She warned. Some kids leaned forward to look, while others were pulled back by their attendants.

Lilijah got out of there before the stones started blowing up.

One teen girl got too close to the magic, and took a tongue of flame to the face. When it passed, she’d lost her eyebrows. The other kids, and more than a few adults, laughed at her. Chided her for not: “Listening to running warriors, and your elders.”

Lilijah ignored the byplay, and the girl, who ran out, crestfallen and humiliated. But probably fine, Health wise. One burst of his fire wouldn’t get through the full Health of most children, let alone teens. It would still hurt like hell.

It was about as cruel as letting a child learn that touching a working stove would burn them, and Frank had known parents that still believed that a “burned hand learns best.”

A single firekeeper, the girl’s father, by the resemblance, separated from the mass of people watching and went after her. He too looked disappointed in her.

Lilijah slipped back in a seat at their table. Embarrassed, she admitted: “I forgot you always have some on you. Do they have to be so easy to blow? I thought your stones were safe.”

Very conscious of the many ears listening, and of the avalanche of trouble he would be in, if it got out that he sold dangerous items to firekeepers, Frank spoke clearly and audibly for the rumour mill:

“I didn’t give you heat stones Lilijah. You obviously weren’t asking for them. I gave you a design that should, if you can trigger it, blow up well. That makes them… temperamental. If they weren’t, they’d be about three times as hard to trigger.”

“Three times!?” Lilijah cursed in disbelief. “It was already a birth and a half to get them to work at all! You telling me those were made to blow up for me?”

“Well, not specially for you. I don’t know what vector you’re using as a trigger mechanism. But I ripped out all the extra sealing lines. That’s why I told you you had to use them in the next three days, Lilijah. After that, they’d start blowing up on their own.”

Lilijhah was disappointed, but bounced back quickly. “That just means I’ll need fresh ones, morning of each hunt.”

“Yes, well, they don’t grow on trees.” Frank cautioned her. Cherna and Deli had started up their own conversation, while he spoke to Lilijah. Something about mushrooms. Grower talk.

“They’re just rocks.” Lilijah scoffed. Frank didn’t share her opinion. She noticed. “Aren’t they?”

“Not really.” Frank grimaced. “I’ve been using any smooth stone, but I made a deal with the Master Hunter for some. He brought me better ones. They made a difference. I still don’t know why.” Frank admitted.

“Which one?” Lilijah asked.

“Huh?”

“Which Master Hunter?” She clarified.

Wrong-footed, Frank asked: “There’s more than one?”

“Yes. The Reclaimers have theirs, and the caravan theirs.” she informed him.

“Really? I’ve never met the caravan one.” “Or seen them. Or heard them mentioned at all.”

“She doesn’t like towns, or crowds.” was all Lilijah said about her.

“It’s not Deadbeat, is it?”

Lilijah choked on her water. After clearing her throat, she laughed at him. “No, it’s not Deadbeat. She’s a patrol party leader, not a Hunter one, let alone a Master Hunter. Who do you think kept all the bad monsters away while you travelled?”

Frank thought about the trip over. While he did get into several fights with Sticks under Deadbeat, they hadn’t fought monsters, for the most part. Even after the nobles had went their own way, after Last Light.

“The other one, then. He was in the Hunter common room.”

“Gristlebalm.” Lilijah named him. “He never would talk to me. How’d you strike that Bargain?”

“I have my ways.” He demurred. It was better to keep at least some cards close to his chest.

Lilijah snorted. “Now you sound like a merchant.”

Frank jumped on that opportunity to tease her. “On that topic: how will you be paying for all these stones I’m to supply you with?” he asked with a smile.

Lilijah froze. “Sticks and Bones!” she cursed.

“At least that curse makes sense now.”

There was a hum in the air. Frank heard the wordless ringing of church bells, the quiet singing of a choir. “There we go.”

His Lifecord appeared on its own. Everyone’s did. Not that he could see them. Best Frank could tell, each person had a hallucination that only they could perceive. He looked to his own.

Aspects (Limit)

Physical (18)

Mental (18)

Mystical

Agility: 4-1

Body: 3-1 (11+2/40)

Reaction: 4-1

Strength: 3

Instinct: 3 (6/40)

Logic: 5-1 (+1/60)

Presence: 4-1

Will: 5

Destiny: 10 (10)

Fortune: 1 (10)

Magic: 0+1 (8)

Soul: (4-1) 2

Gift of Life

Health = 50

Recovery – 3/day

Gift of Heart

Mana = 8

Recovery – 15/day

Gift of Self

Guiding Light

Warm Smoke

Skills (+Applied,-Inactive, Unable,)

Traits, +Skills

Agility = 3

-Basketball 2

+Smooth 2

-Reflex 2

+Deflect 3 (30d)

-Riding 1

+Carving 2 (8+1/30)

Instinct = 3

-Empathy 1 (0+1/20)

-Reflexes 2

+Bargaining 1 (9+1/20)

-Survival 1 (4/20)

+Channel 2 (+4/30)

+Frostfire 1

Destiny = 10

Summoned Hero (Divine Blessing) (162/352 days) – Destiny 4

Scorched (Creational Curse) – Destiny 3 (18%)

Outsider (Invited Invader) – Destiny 2

Foolish beyond Reason (Achievement) (162/352 days) – Destiny 1

Body = 2

-Conditioning 1

+Soldier 1 (0/20)

+Pain Management 1 (11)/20)

Logic = 4

-Ecology 4

+Biology (5) 4

+Science 2 (0/30)

-Mathematics 4

-Tactics 4 (0/50)

-Strategy 2

+Runes (Red Sun) 3

+Runes (Eversnow) 1 (+4/20)

Fortune = 1

Reaction = 3

+Awareness 3

+Search 3

-Ignore 2

-Riposte 2

+Mage Staff 1

Presence = 3

+Extrovert 2

+Public relations 2

+Command 3 (9d)

-Pilgrim 1 (4/20)

Magic = 1

Banked Еmbers I (Scorched)

Strength = 3

+Lift 2

+Spearman (Red Sun) 2 (0/30)(30d)

+Medium Armour 2 (0+2/30)

Will = 5

+Temptation 4 (3/50)

+Resistance 4

+Principle 1 (+4/20)

+Persistence 4

+Ignore 1 (8/20)

Soul = 2

The Wonder of Magic II

+Pale Gate Greeting I

Three Ability, and 17 Skill progress. Not great progress, all in all. But he’d take it, with the two Ability points he’d gotten back. “That’s what? 60 Ability points just there. And the breakthroughs, for each one.”

That made the whole thing look a lot better. 50 Health didn’t hurt, either.

Next to him, Deli whooped. “I got it!” She shouted out. Happy, and just a bit puzzled. Cheers and groans were going off all around them. Under the cover of all the noise, Deli leaned in and confided in him:

“Oathsworn Poledancer.”

“What did you get?” Cherna asked, bittersweet. Happy for Deli, but resigned too. Frank noticed. He didn’t like it.

Deli was, at least, quick on her feet: “Surefoot Poledancer.”

Frank didn’t even have to tell Deli not to share the real name. He didn’t want his Outsider status coming out, and wasn’t sure what people could deduce from the Skill name.

“Hey Cherna?” Frank asked, keeping his voice casual. “You never did tell us how you were doing.”

Cherna tried to brush it off, ducking her head, sipping her mead. “I’m fine. Just tired, a bit.”

“From the work?” Frank pressed.

Cherna scowled at him. “Aye. And other duties.”

When Frank didn’t back down, she put her cup down. “Why, you interested, warrior?”

Cherna said it sweetly, but Frank made out just a hint of an off beat in how she put it. In how she smiled, leaned forward, drew down the neck of her shirt to show off cleavage.

His eyes narrowed. “Would those other duties be what’s keeping you up?” He asked, still keeping his voice friendly.

Cherna looked at him openly, invitingly. Seeing he wasn’t biting, she snorted and dropped the act. “What’s it to you?”

Deli did not look happy with what she was hearing. Frank wasn’t happy either. “How did it go?”

Frank put one hand on his staff. Made it glow, just a little. It was a neat trick, but all he had done was put a candle’s worth of effort through it. It was barely a speck of mana.

Cherna leaned away from him, concerned at the implied threat.

His other hand, Frank moved to his belt. Plunged into an imaginary pouch on it, and brought it up, as if holding something. Turned it over, palm up, empty, offering it to Cherna. Slowly closed his hand around the imaginary ball.

Except his palm, the gesture, wasn’t empty. Not in this culture.

It was a hearthfire, and his fingers were his life. Offered to protect her.

Deli made the same gesture. Cherna looked from one to the other, her face struggling. “You’ll be wanting the same.” She accused Frank.

“On my heart, Cherna; if you do not ask for it, I’ll not lay a single finger on you.” He considered the nature of Oaths, and decided against one, even a carefully worded one. “If you come to us, we might fight, and I’ll not exclude some physical punishments, if you’re being foolish or abusing our trust. But none like that. That I’ll promise, if not swear to. Before all these witnesses.” Frank raised his voice at the end.

There was an immediate reaction from the crowd. “Oi! What do ya think you’re doing with my woman!?”

Three men stood up from another table, all armed. Their leader was a familiar face. It was same guard that had shared a watch with Mauricious, at the cavern shelter entrance. When Cherna came to fetch Frank, warn him of trouble.

A hush fell around them, kids pulled behind grownups. The three hadn’t drawn weapons yet.

Frank breathed in. There was a thump from her chair as Deli came up, axestaff at the ready. Lilijah scowled at the both of them, but jumped on the table, drawing her own axe and hammer.

Frank breathed out, standing up as well. Standing between Cherna and them. Fire came from his core, crawled up his staff and formed a buzzing, sparking comet at the tip of it. As if holding a rifle, Frank pointed the staff at the leader.

“Walk away. Right now.” He warned.

“Before I decide I want to duel you.”

The three men stopped, scowling. Hands went to weapons. Four tables over, another mug hit wood. Brar stood up from his seat among the other Shield Guards. Rolling his shoulders, shield and axe both came up as he took his stance and advanced.

“Well, lads. We doing this, or what?” Brar asked, relaxed. Calm. Tapping shield and axe together in a salute. All the more unnerving for how confident he seemed.

A lot of hands were on weapons now, all around them, as kids and firekeepers backed up against the walls. More warriors were standing up, starting to form a circle around the two sides.

“’cause if we are, we really should take this outside.” Brar continued, to many nods among warriors watching. The leader of the three looked around the room, finding no support. His eyes finally landed on Cherna, who wouldn’t look at him. She kept her mouth closed, jaw clenched.

“Bah! Keep her. She’s not worth it.” The guard derided, saving face.

The tension went out of the room as they turned tail. Frank would have liked it if they ran away entirely, but they just went back to their table, grumbling all the way. Now that he thought about it, while their table was in the middle circle, the wall on their side was empty. No kids, no servants or fire keepers.

No family.

And all three tables on the other sides around them were armed.

Frank took the comet from his staff, and broke it up, like letting air out of a balloon. Before his breath ran out and he blew himself up again. Gouts of fire bloomed in the air. Those nearby ducked, and some complained, but no one was hurt. It was fortunate the common room had a high ceiling.

“I was wondering who the local assholes were.” he muttered so only those at his table could hear.

Cherna remained silent. Brar dropped by to lay hands on the shoulders of his party members, checking in silently. Seeing they didn’t need him, he went back to his table. Deli’s face was cold. Lilijah’s conflicted.

Finally, Cherna said quietly: “I wouldn’t say that. They’re right cocks, is what they are. False kindness, rotten within.”

Deli put a commiserating hand on her shoulder, while Lilijah shuddered in disgust.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can see that.“

Men, women, people came in all shapes and sizes, and of all kinds. Of course there were petty assholes here too, abusing their power over others.

“Sorry, I never asked.” Frank apologised, hoping to get her mind off the uncomfortable and unpleasant topic. “What are your Skills?”

Cherna swallowed, looking suddenly worried. Deli squeezed her shoulder again. “He won’t. He’s not that kind of man. Don’t worry.”

“I’ve never been great, at the growing part.” Cherna began. “I can cook, clean, carry lots of firewood.” she went on, still somewhat nervous. “I sew and weave, when there’s work for my Skill. Simple work only. I’m an apprentice with thread. Not as Skilled as you, Deli, but I’m a deft hand with a needle for my Ability, willing to learn. I’ve done a bit of cobbler work, but only a little. I’ve some skill as a midwife too, and at mending cuts.”

skill, not Skill he noted. Frank had a feeling he’d have to work this out with the Master Merchant. He wasn’t worried. Katri had left the Light Armour behind. It was shredded. It could be Cherna’s first big project, when she wasn’t doing Grower things. They’d figure it out.

“We’ll make it work.” He reassured her as well. “Why don’t we go get your things?”

“Right.” Cherna realised. “Before the pissant decides I owe him more for his generosity.”

Frank paid up, and they left. As they walked out, he waved over a guard to escort them. It was for the best to do this with a witness. Just in case.

What bugged him was her station. She’d beaten on Snow Shades with enthusiasm, during their voyage together.

“So why is Cherna a firekeeper?”