Twix Family/Fey/Zale
The Meeting with Zale, and a Happy Reunion...
Fey stands in the dim coolness of the recruiting office, which she'd just found that morning. The wizened man behind the hardwood desk gave her a stern look, and when she returned it, his old face broke into a smile.
"I must confess miss, upon seeing a woman enter my office I am often skeptical of their abilities. While this northern realm may be harsh and toughen the frailest of souls, it also does not tend to breed a good commander. You have a good look about you. My name's Zale." He stood and extended his hand to her.
"My pleasure to meet you, and to be of satisfactory competence, m'lord." She grasped the offered hand firmly, meeting his smiling old eyes straight on. "I will get straight to business, then. I wish to lead a group of lancers, cavalry, to aid in the defense of Melhed. I'm wondering, however, if you've a breed of horse that handles this type of snow and temperature range well? I've seen few since I arrived..."
"Ah yes, indeed we do! Here, come along to view the grounds, I believe they may be running drills at moment, in fact! Very good question you know. It took a long time to properly breed our warsteeds for the climate..."
The voices faded from the front office as Zane led Fey back to the room directly behind it, overlooking the practice ground with a large long window.
Elsewhere in Melhed...
Dyan looks through his morning scrolls quickly, as there are only a few. "Mouzl, eh? Looks like fun!" He jots out a quick note to ismet...
~ Meet you in Mouzl! Bet I can spear more baddies than you~ ;) ~
A Duskwing flutters eagerly out the tent with the message, puffing its grey feathers proudly. Dyan watches it go and grins, musing, ~there's not much for them to do these days, with so few messages being sent around.~ He turns to the last scroll and grins when he sees the contents.
~ A new troopleader has joined your realm. Fey Twix will be starting her career in Melhed today. ~
The Hawkeyed look to each other in surprise and confusion as a jubilant shout is heard from their leader's tent.
"Fey! Ya-HAAAH!"
Dyan strode out in front, leading the Hawkeyed through the last vestiges of Wailing Wood. He was wary to enter Lastfell, and was keeping a keen eye out, for this was where that large troop of bandits had robbed him last time. He was in better shape this time, surely, and had men with him, but he was certain that those bandits had outnumbered his current group at least 2 to 1.
"Sir! Wait up, sir!" A young man from a nearby town came running up behind the group, waving a roll of parchment.
Dyan signaled the Hawkeyed to halt, turning towards the youngster. "Aye?"
Panting and red-faced, the boy slowed to a stop before Dyan. "Sir... messages... for you... from... Agyr..." He gasped out between gulps of air, holding the scroll out at arms' length, half-bent over as he struggled to catch his breath.
"Is it urgent, then?" Dyan queried as he took the scroll and unrolled it. Quickly scanning the page, his scarred visage broke into a smile.
"S'always... urgent for troopleaders, sir! I'm glad... to have caught you... you march so fast!"
The curly-haired leader continued to smile as he looked down at the boy, who could not have been older than 9 or 10 years old. "Well many thanks for your considerable haste. Messages are often urgent for fighters like us. Is this your first mission, young runner?"
"A...aye, sir. How'd you know?"
Dyan just smiled. He dug in his pouch for a small coin for the boy, and handed it to him with a wink of his single eye. With a nod to the Hawkeyed, he turned and they were on their way again, leaving the boy with more money than he'd had in his life, and a confused expression on his face.
~Let him wonder...~ Dyan thought as his eye followed the trail ahead. ~If he knew this was just a note from my sister letting me know she bought new clothes and found the Academy today, he may not have given it such haste. You never know when a coincidental note like this could make all the difference... An older messenger would likely have known by the seal and colour of paper what it was. Good kid. Reminds me of myself at one time...~
A voice from beside him broke his thoughts. "Sir, how'd you know that little guy was a first-time runner?"
Dyan grinned. "I was just thinking about that myself. It's all in the note, you see. It was from my sister, letting me know she bought new clothes today. Not exactly a life-or-death matter, really. But the little one thought it was! He did not know the seal, only that he was being trusted with something important. I myself would have likely acted the same at his age."
"Ahaha, I get it. You stumped the guy though, sir, I'm sure he's still standing there, convinced you're a mystic or somethin'..."
"Too right!" Another voice joined in. "He was turning all sorts o' colours when we was walkin away, red an green an pale and red again. You did a number on 'im, Dyan sir."
"Perhaps I did. Little ones like him need heroes like us, fellas. We're the ones he'll look up to, and he trusts us with all his will and worth, his whole little world. One day he could be me, or one of you. For now, he can play at hero, and wonder how heroes know what they do..."
The mighty bridge from Lastfell to Bil Havil fades into the distance behind Dyan and the Hawkeyed. Dyan reads his day's messages with dismay.
"As usual, I leave the north when things quiet down, and suddenly there's hordes of monsters awaiting the pleasure of arrows as soon as I'm out of range! Huh. Figures."
He rolls up the scrolls and shoves them away, gazing back out over the long road ahead. Long, but not too long anymore, and there is a long-missed sister at the end of it.
