image [https://i.imgur.com/2fLf4GD.png]

The crowd around the demonstration had mostly dispersed, A fair few remained to speak with the Elf, and some to scout the young Man. But even they left with time, onto bigger and better things in their eyes. After an hour, the last of the interested parties had left the Elf to his devices, save for Gyile and Browyn. Auryen had taken an interest in Gyile, wondering more about the artifact that he had seen and having the insight to know that Gyile was holding back.

Tannen had grabbed herself a bowl of soup, as she was desperately hungry. She was almost finished as Gyile and Auryen finally sat down to talk. She tried to eavesdrop on her approach, but all the same ruckus and roaring made it difficult. Tannen approached from behind Auryen, hoping to join the conversation at her own convenience.

"-I'm not one to wring the truth from those who hold their secrets close, especially when the secrets aren't their own. But I feel that's not exactly the case here. I'd love to hear more about the artifact you encountered, the Feathered Edge."

"I'm not quite sure how much I can say. I'm thinking quite carefully about what's most useful for you to hear, and what I can actually tell you."

Gyile had not yet noticed her, but to know that she was respected whilst they thought her back was turned relieved the pain in her side. If only for a moment. Auryen sat patiently.

"There is no need to rush, take all the time you need to sort your phrasing. But if you could point me in their direction, I'd be in your debt."

He was still thinking. The conversation had lulled so much even the elf grew tired. She decided that now was as good a time as any. She also desperately wished to speak.

"Don't bother Gyile, he might as well ask me."

Auryen turned around positively puzzled by her approach. Looking at the equipment she carried, the puzzle seemed to solve itself. His expression showed a great deal of familiarity before the puzzled expression returned.

"You're not lady Braia?"

The expression was contagious, spreading to each one of them.

"I hadn't thought you told him my name yet."

Gyile's defensive motions now were far more genuine than his playful nature when she first met him.

"I hadn't!"

Auryen stood up fast, as if threatened. It was the first she heard the Elf without his scholastic demeanor, instead his voice was smothered with a great deal of fear, and more so concern.

"Last I knew, the Feathered Edge was the sole weapon of now lady Braia. Who are you?"

The realization washed over the both of them, painful and obvious. The wave left them soaking with sorrow. Tannen's voice was somber.

"By lady you mean..."

"Narae Braia... When?"

"Some 2 years ago. How did you know her?"

"I helped her find that blade, a very long time ago. I knew she'd never part with it till her death, I knew it was strange to hear that the blade had left Paraclaed behind. I hoped young Gyile could lead me to her, that perhaps she was traveling again, but it seems instead..."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, I only knew her in passing. I'm saddened to hear it, but from your tone you were far closer."

Auryen looked at her again. Her skin was pale at some time, but her travels had tanned her. Her complexion was close to the miss he had known. Even her brown bobbed hair conjured images of her. Tannen had a larger frame than her, but was a deal shorter. She wore quite different attire too, a brown cloak, a vest and light pants, as well as strangely a harness. Save a freckle here or that strange gold piercing below her right eye, the resemblance was near uncanny. At least to his recollection.

"You're her daughter, aren't you?"

"I am. It's strange coincidence to find someone she knew on my travels."

The sorrow left her as the old wound closed again.

"It's strange for me as well, to see someone so vividly the same, and to know they are not who I remember. I'd hate to speak more without a proper introduction. Sit, I'd imagine you have questions for me, as I do for you."

Tannen reached out first, Auryen returned the gesture holding to her wrist firmly. Their other hands rested atop their joined arms for a moment. Gyile shifted to the chair next to him, letting Tannen sit in his place after they had broken from their introduction.

"Tannen Braia, as you may have guessed."

"Auryen Morre, as you might have heard."

Auryen sat back down, now more relaxed and with his vigor and passion returned.

"Before I regale you with what I remember of your mother, whatever you might not have heard, I'd love to know what's brought you to Esmony."

"I'm going home. Or I suppose my parent's homeland, my mother and my father both hail from Libare."

"What of your temple?"

"My temple is wherever I go, how many people do you know who worship the Peacock."

"One, and I suppose the rest I don't know could be counted on my hands."

She was beginning to shift the questions to Auryen.

"What brought you to Esmony?"

"I'm also passing through, though I came from the west. I'm coming back from Felstar, though I had to pass through Paraclaed as well. I've been traveling all over, spreading the word of my latest and hopefully, most long-lasting interest."

"Right, I saw your demonstration, but couldn't quite figure out what exactly it is you're doing. You don't seem to be peddling anything."

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"Peddling isn't the right word, not nearly, It’s almost the opposite. I've always been an educator, and after one of my students showed me an incredible discovery, I've been spreading the word of a new and wondrous opportunity to any and all able-bodied and confident. I hope to not only catalogue these discoveries, but to bring our nations even closer together with them."

Aureyn leaned in to speak a little more softly, not secretive but passionate and focused.

"Have you noticed anything strange lately? Places you've never heard of, crossing paths with a temple that's never been prayed to. A keep or a crypt hiding and jealously protecting something within, so tempted to approach?"

She retraced the steps through her memory, when she fell within that haunting and aberrant place.

"Yes..."

"I tell you this, it's no anomaly, it's happening everywhere. The Scholar's Poniard, Startle, and all the other artifacts I displayed were found so very recently. The places in which they were found had never been documented. Were they from the Before then that would make the most sense, but their architecture is advanced, some run deep. Very deep. Each of these places hold an artifact of the gods. Curiously, as you know, the gods came some odd 4 centuries ago, their artifacts even more recent, some no older than 200, all long after the written word. Most were lost, some like the one you carry were kept close, but so so many were lost. After the Rage, they were spread to the winds and forgotten, now, each and everywhere you look you'll find one hiding. Why do you think that is."

Auryens passion was in full display, drawing her in. Her own curiosity was peaked, and the answer to that place's origins was a tempting idea.

"I haven't seen it happen, but my associates and I have our theories. I believe these places are grown."

Browyn interjected.

"Whoa, you didn't share that bit with your speech."

"It's only a theory young Man, until myself or another of equal or greater credibility is to physically observe and document it, it will remain as such. But I remain confident in this theory."

Tannen spoke the question that sprung to mind, as sure as she was that it would be answered, she couldn't restrain her curiosity to ask.

"How do you think these places are birthed?"

"Birthed may be an odd term for it, but I suppose it works. I believe these places -something me and my colleagues have taken to calling vaults- are formed by the artifacts themselves. Parram, metals of the world and the outer terrestrial, they're the only materials worthy of these artifacts, so great they are to be named for the world itself. More than just its divine origin, we believe Parram to hold a native and passive power, one to shape the world. Clay turns to stone, dirt to diamond and wood to wall."

"Why only now then, there's Parram everywhere?"

"I... don't know. No one thing explains it. Perhaps some outside force brought it about, a gods intervention, but the clergy remain ignorant or are just as surprised as you and I. Maybe it takes time, but then we would have seen them forming, and the time of the Rage means that over the course of a hundred years the artifacts were lost, some would still be forming and others long since found. Then again, maybe they haven't all yet formed, growing in secret and only revealing themselves when they are ready."

"So then whats your angle? Why are you preaching to everyone you come across to find these things?"

"There are a couple of reasons I'm offering to buy them-"

"Buying the artifacts of the gods? I can't imagine the priests are quite happy."

"Not all, but most. In CloudScrape, my colleagues and I have formed a guild to consolidate all the artifacts to one place. We know how powerful they are, too powerful for our own good. So with generous donations from the church, a gift of a wing of CloudScrape from the backing of ma'am Brindalaine herself-"

Auryen would not get the chance to finish his sentence for a very long time. What sounded like the breaking and splintering of wood exploded from one of the doors. One could almost feel the force of the air making way for the door to open, already it had held still the bards fingers as the music drained from the inn and forced shut the maws of the loudmouthed patrons. An old voice shouted from the doorway, beckoning silence from the rest of the room, and demanding its undivided attention.

"RICKUM!!! RICKUM!!!"

"By the grains of Hell, is that Old Joel?"

Gyile spoke under his breath.

"RICKUM!!!"

The innkeeper rushed down from the stairs, his flurry of steps sounded out like the swift tapping of fingers.

"What's got you yelling-"

"It's your boy Rickum! He's taken one of my horses, and he's riding up river! I tried to stop him but he's too damn quick! He's gonna get himself killed going that far from town. He was talking of magic and swords and such-"

Tannen thought back to the young boy she had seen wandering the bar, being the innkeep's son was one way of getting in, and the young boy was similarly enthused by the display put on by Auryen. True to what Joel had said, the boy must have been fast, he was no doubt the first in the town to take Auryen up on his call to action. The innkeep's efficiency was on full display, he moved to a closet to grab a handful of choice items. As he did so, he barked orders to his older child.

"Get these people out or back in their rooms. Close the inn and meet me at the north gate. To it boy!"

The second child was taller than his father, and paler by a fair degree. His unusual height helped in commanding the crowds, herding them like sluggish and uncoordinated sheep, half of them were drunk after all. His voice was high with a rasp formed by years of yelling atop his lungs. This wasn't the first time he'd cleared the bar, and it wouldn't be the last it would seem. They moved slowly like a thick honey spilling from a tipped jar, but they would clear in time. Tannen and Auryen were lead quite aggressively towards the stairs going up, to which there was a short but unwavering line, all much against their protests. Gyile and Browyn made their way with the larger crowd, leaving for home it seemed.

"You heard him! If you ain't got a room you're not getting one now! Out the doors or up the stairs!"

The innkeep was donning a rigid breastplate. Already he wore thin padding covered in dusty and old wraps, old keepsakes from a veteran. The wrapping hood covering the piercing iron visor confirmed that the lord was once a warrior, infantry of the Esmony Militia. The wraps did well to block the gusts of Hell and the desert sun, but proved nothing more than redundant weight in the temperate climate of northern Esmony. He doffed the hood to show the battered and roughly kept helmet. He grabbed a long blade from its sheath to ensure it's quality, noting the forked tip and slight curve. When he was satisfied with its condition and moved to find his son. The innkeep grabbed his son’s shoulder with a steady hand and spoke softly, but held each word with great importance. As quick as he was to decide, he was to change his mind, and as quick to have it changed for him.

"I've decided now, up river are Ogers, they will crush you underfoot, and I won't have it."

"I can use your bow, I won't let it get close-"

"More than a widower, would you strip me of my children?"

"Would you have me a coward who could not save his brother?"

They both held still for a moment, it seemed as unnatural as a boulder pausing halfway down a hill.

"Grab it. Joel and I will ready the horses."

The lord turned back as the boy rushed to the closet. Tannen saw and brought herself to approach the lord. As evil as to kill would be to stay still and let the child die. Less gentle and more willing to simply move people aside than Auryen, she managed to break through the crowd quickly. She met the innkeep from behind, matching the vigor in his step and catching him before he made his way through the door.

"I'll join you."

He gave her a moment’s glance. Like he always seemed to, he had decided on his words long before she finished speaking.

"You're still weak from your injuries."

"Unlike your son, I need not convince you. I am joining you. If you won't have me, then outpace me."

He nodded, holding the door open for her as they approached it. They made their way up the stairs leading out the basin like foundation and began retracing the steps Tannen had taken to the Inn. She hoped the rest she'd had would be enough.

Still at the inn, the boy held the thin bow in his hands as he closed the closet shut. He began to make his way to the main stairs leading to the bridge outside, but he saw out the corner of his eye the Elf he knew to have filled his brother's head with delusions of adventure and grandeur. He took it as personally as a boy possibly could. He ran to him and grabbed the collar of the Elf, whipping him round to look him in the eyes. His gaze bore a hole through Auryen.

"You! If you're worth the spit between the gums you spewed your fables with, then you'll help to find my brother."

The boy failed to see that already the Elf was pushing into the crowd that was moving far too slowly. The Elf's touch was too ginger for the circumstance. Auryen returned the boy's gaze not with malice or fear, but with a great understanding and empathy, and a tinge of desperation.

"We've wasted enough time, get me out of this crowd, would you."