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[Arcana]

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During her recent stay with Molly Willow, Arcana had heard that the old Kingdom of Stormhaven had chosen a new Queen. So Arcana decided to pay a visit to the old Growling Griffin. Queen Shantel had been a dear friend, long ago.

Alas, the Griffin was deserted this eve, though it was obviously inhabited and well cared for. She was just dispelling her ethereal steed – her real horse was getting on in years and was still recuperating from their last journey together – when she heard a man’s booming voice call her name. Arcana instantly turned toward the sound and saw… Arlin.

“You!” she exclaimed in utter astonishment as the burly half-ogre displayed a toothy smile, fortuitously inherited from his human parent along with the better part of his features.

Arlin’s grin quickly faded as Arcana’s eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened in fury as she paced rapidly toward him. He hesitantly began to ask her if she was mad about something when he was interrupted by Arcana’s fist connecting solidly with his face.

Arlin abruptly found himself sitting stunned in the grass with his legs sticking straight out in front of him. He looked up at Arcana with a blinking, bewildered expression as she shook out her right hand with a grim, satisfied smile.

“Wha’d I do?” he asked plaintively, probing for broken teeth. Damn, she could hit hard.

Arcana arched a brow over icy blue eyes and glared down her nose at him. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten a certain ‘incident’ in Umbra?”

“Oh. That.” Arlin looked crestfallen. In retrospect, it really hadn’t been such a good idea to try to sell Arcana into slavery. She really seemed to be holding it against him. He should have just kept her for himself; he was convinced that the fiery blonde would have warmed to him eventually. He smiled involuntarily at the thought.

Arcana’s angry stare, however, was if anything, intensifying as he sat there, and she looked as if she were considering spitting on him. Clearly denial was impossible, and excuses were useless because the woman was smarter than him. So Arlin chose a seldom-used tactic from his repertoire: he apologized.

“Sorry. I guess I had that comin’.” Arlin even discovered that he meant it. Arcana seemed somewhat taken aback, or at least temporarily halted in her desire to do him bodily harm Encouraged, he added. “Let me buy you a drink. Two old friends, eh?”

Arcana certainly felt in need of a drink. She nodded and said, “All right, but I still haven’t decided whether or not to kill you.” She turned on her heel and went into the tavern without waiting. “I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t help you up,” she called over her shoulder.

With surprising nimbleness for his size, Arlin got to his feet and followed. He joined Arcana at a table near the massive fireplace in the center of the common room.

“What’s yer poison?” he asked as the tavern master looked in their direction.

An angel and devil warred briefly and intensely over Arcana’s shoulders. The angel prevailing, Arcana sighed inwardly and said, “Just watered wine.”

“Eh!” Arlin grunted. “Suit yerself.” He ordered a pitcher of ale for himself. Their drinks arrived and the tavern master retreated out of earshot. Arcana sipped her wine as Arlin drank deeply and set his pitcher back on the table with a loud belch.

“So how ‘ave you been?” he inquired politely.

Nonplussed, Arcana answered, “To be perfectly honest, I’d been hoping you were dead.”

“Meh. In that case, yer in good company.”

“Still in the mercenary trade?”

“Need anyone killed?”

“I see.”

“Nah… I’s respectable now. No more slave-tradin’.”

“I should hope not. I thought even you had your limits, Arlin.”

Arlin muttered and looked at the table. “Once a sellsword, always a sellsword, and anyone can fall.”

It was Arcana’s turn to look uncomfortable. Both knew perfectly well that Arcana had done her own time as a mercenary long ago, albeit as one with considerably more discretion than Arlin’s Black Dog crew. Her sensibilities had eventually led her out of the trade and to the Knights she now lead. “Point taken. And, I understand now how easy it is to fall from grace.”

Arlin looked at her quizzically, and with a pained sigh, Arcana recounted the past several months of her life – her failed marriage, her daughter’s death, her departure from and return to the Knights. Arlin was sympathetic to the child’s death, indifferent to knighthood, and inappropriately gleeful at her marital status. The crass half-ogre always thought Arcana (whom he privately considered *his* lady-knight) could have done better… with say… himself. “Shoulda kept her for mahself when I captured her,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” Arcana asked.

“I said, I never put much stock in marriage.”

“Weren’t you married once?”

“Meh. It didn’t take.”

Arcana nodded and raised her goblet. “Down with marriage.” Arlin grunted agreement and took another long swig from his pitcher.

The sat for a time, quietly reminiscing over their shared youths. So few were left from that time that Arcana didn’t wish to lose the connection she had to the past with Arlin, nor did he with her. Besides, while he was a boorish, misogynistic oaf at times, his heart was generally in the right place, and she’d always had a soft spot for him. The problem, she thought, was that he’s lost his place in the world when the Yew Militia had disbanded. Without Yew’s mantle, he’d soon been shunned from civilized society. Not that Arlin had ever gone out of his way to be accepted. Arcana and handful of his friends had done what they could to protect him, but Arlin wasn’t content with a solitary ranger’s life in the woods. From there, the decisions he’d made lay on his own head.

“Hey Arcy,” Arlin began, “Remember that time you helped me hide from ol’ Stormcrow’s men?”

“How could I forget. Half the countryside was hunting for you. You’re lucky I found you first.” She’d sent him food, supplies, and information enough to keep him one step ahead of the authorities until the strongest voices calling for his head had quieted down. It had helped greatly in this effort that the younger Arcana had lead several of the Regent’s search parties. Her actions had been treason and would have landed her in prison at best, had anyone actually known about them.

“Remember that night at the cave?” Arlin added with a hopeful leer.

“Yes,” she answered with and effort to keep her voice noncommittal. They had shared a single kiss, no more. Arcana chalked it up as an inexplicable attraction to an outlaw and another folly of her misspent youth. No one knew about that, either.

“So how come you didn’t stay with me? Somethin’ wrong with mah bed?”

“Yes. I would’ve had to climb over the hordes of tavern wenches to find it.”

Arlin gave her his best smile and spread his muscular arms expansively. “Ain’t no wenches now, Arcy. Just you and me.” He paused and leaned over the table, his face close to hers. He gave a meaningful look at the thick fur rug in front of the fireplace and added as few details about said rug and fireplace that made Arcana’s temperature rise and her cheeks flush scarlet. She quickly rose to her feet.

“Good night, Arlin,” she told him, but not unkindly, and departed.

The irascible mercenary might have found reason to be disappointed at her abrupt departure, but he wasn’t. Arlin downed Arcana’s unfinished wine in a gulp, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his broad chest, a smug smile on his face. She’d come around eventually.

[Arlin]

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It was a boring and uneventful evening for a half-ogre looking for adventure. All his friends were either out of reach, or out of touch. He meandered around the woods awhile, flipping through random runebooks, hoping a rune would pop out and smack him in the face with an idea.

He was on his last runebook, ready to give up and go to bed, when he came across a rune labled "Arcanas House". He scratched his beard, pondering the situation. He had met her last week at thier old haunt, Stormhaven. At first he had actully feared for his life. But after she had let her frustrations out...and Arlin had his own ideas about where those frustrations lie....they had had a good evening together, laughing and reminiscing of better times gone by.

He grinned and, on a whim, recalled to her house just outside of Vesper. He noticed a large pile of weapons, armor, and jewelry piled outside the house. Spring cleaning perhaps? Then he noticed voices from within the house itself. Most likely her knightly kin. Without a second thought, he burst into the room, armed only with a smile. Several of the nights jerked thier heads around, and thier hands moved quickly to thier weapons.

This didnt trouble Arlin, as he strode into the center of the room, and boomed out "Arcy! So this be yer humble abode eh?" She gave him a cold stare at first...as did the rest of the knights. But her icy glare soon turned to a warm smile, and she welcomed him into her house. Arlin could her some grumbling protests from the other knights, but no one dared to oppose Arcana.

As the night wore on, most of the knights retired to thier homes, except for Arlin, Arcana, and two of her cronies. Arlin had been indulging himself in the free liquor, and after having fallen out of his small stool several times, found himself sitting across a large table from Arcana. They talked awhile, but she seemed different in the prescene of her knightly-buddies.

Whereas his comments had drawn laughs and, what he hoped was serious consideration only a few nights before, now drew threats and heated words. Soon the conversation turned to Arlins hostilities towards Sir Robert.

"Why are you so hostile towards Sir Robert and Aerius all of the sudden, hrm?" Arcana had incriminated

Seeking to steer the conversation elsewhere, Arlin replied without much forethought "Aww Arcana, yous know ya always had a special place in mah heart...and in mah bed"

Having simply thought to lighten the mood, Arlin could see the flames in Arcanas eyes light up. And they weren't the good kind of flames. She stood up, slaming her palsm on the table, staring Arlin down. He wished he could shrink himself right then...hard for a half-ogre.

"How DARE you suggest that we...ever!" She screeched, clearly in anger, and perhaps, Arlin thought, disgust. He shook his head however, his unwavering confidence perservering.

"Eh Arcy...I just was tryin' ta lighten' the mood...maybe its a sign a the apocolypse er sumthin but...well...I is sorry Arcana." He looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke, and he could see the flames of anger sizzle out. She was taken aback, as were the other knights at the table. She simply sat back down, and nodded.

The night wore down, and the two parted ways. Although Arcana made sure Arlin had an escort to the door. As he left, he swiveled his head around to catch one more look at the striking figure of the lady-knight.
He smiled to himself as he strode through the woods toward his home. Twice in one week, he had apologized, to the same person no less! And despite what he realized were moronic comments, she did not yet hate him.

As easily as he had fallen from grace, now he thought, maybe he could regain some of it again.
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As the fire fades to night, remember always the ember that started it all.

[Arieus De'Chevia]

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Later that night, Austin returned to share some information with Arieus.

A day later a White Gate (see that post) was opened and the Knight General Arieus was simply gone, for awhile; Austin securing some confidetial letter, for later use, if so required.
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[Arcana]

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“Defend yourself,” Arcana cried, accompanied by the rasp and ring of steel as she drew her sword. In a fluid motion, she rid herself of cloak and quiver.

Arlin swallowed nervously and reluctantly drew his sword. He still wasn’t exactly sure how things had deteriorated to this point. He’d thought an apology was more than sufficient. Yet clearly Arcana was skeptical. In fact, she seemed quite prepared to kill him. Bah. Women! This was exactly why he didn’t bother to apologize; it never helped!

Still, he had absolutely no desire to fight with Arcana. In fact, he’s devoted a very large portion of his waking time recently to accomplishing the exact opposite. He parried Arcana’s initial cut and backed away. Perhaps she had a point. He knew he’d been an ass recently; old habits die hard.

The half-ogre was quite nimble for his size, but Arcana was not even half his weight and far more accustomed to the uneven woodland terrain. The ranger-turned-knight pressed her offense and soon maneuvered him into treacherous footing. He stumbled once, twice and before he could recover, she swiftly rushed him and sent him tumbling onto his back in the underbrush. In the next breath she’d planted her boot on his chest and held her sword point at his throat.

“Damnit, Arlin, you didn’t even try,” she said irritably, knowing full well she wasn’t nearly as good with her sword as with her bow.

“Of course not,” he replied with a self-assured grin. “I might have hurt you.”

Arcana scoffed. “I’d never let you hurt me.”

“I know, I know. You’ve proved yer point.” He pushed her sword a few inches to the left, away from his carotid. “You gonna let me up or what.”

Arcana arched a brow. “You’re supposed to yield first.”

With his devilish grin as her only warning, Arcana suddenly felt Arlin’s massive hands clamp about her foot and ankle. She abruptly found herself unbalanced and falling as Arlin growled, “That’s only if you win!” and pulled her to the forest floor, easily wrenching her sword from her hand and tossing it far out of reach.

Instead of under attack as she expected, Arcana found herself cradled in Arlin’s arms. She looked up into his eyes in wonder as he brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and gently, even tenderly ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

“I would never hurt you,” he said quietly.

“How could I possibly trust you?”

In answer, he leaned down and kissed her passionately, wrapping his arms around her and pulling their bodies tight. All rational thought instantly fled Arcana’s mind. Arlin felt a thrill as she responded with equal passion to his kiss.

A snapped twig made them both break off in surprise, and the ever-wary Arlin reached for his dagger. Arcana’s fist in his face had been one of the warmer receptions he’d received lately. The hart who’d broken the twig froze in their gazes in fear for a second, then bounded away. They both chuckled in relief. Arlin turned his eyes down to Arcana’s face and leaned to kiss her again.

But the respite had broken whatever spell had been in the moment, and before their lips could touch Arcana slipped free of his arms and hurried away.