The City of Aethwin, jewel of the Free Cities, spread out before the weary group as they crested the last ridge before the outlying farms. It was nearly noon, and the city's glorious spires and luxurious terrain were bustling with activity. The sky was clear and the winds kept the temperature manageable. Horses would have been nice, but it was pretty certain that the ones they had ridden out one had been lost near the hags, if not eaten by them. There was still a way to go for the foot weary travelers, but the road before them was clear and the last few miles would pass faster than any they had trod. Home, after all, awaited them.
To his right, a soft giggling drifted from the woman hanging off of Vick's arm. She was a sweet thing, maybe in her late teens or early twenties, with tanned skin and dark hair. Lithe of build and clad in soft, supple green suede, she had been the one screaming back in the Startower. Lilian, he thought her name was. Vick had ended up rescuing her from whatever pit trap he'd got himself stuck in, and she had spent the entire trip back clinging to her "handsome knight".
"Fat bastard" was the first term to come to Alan's mind. He recognized her kind, though. Padded soles to silence footsteps, a pouch of tools at her waist. A thief of skill could sniff out another thief any day. She had likely broken into the place seeking quick riches. He couldn't blame her, it sounded like something he would have done in his youth. The old rogue just wasn't sure how long it would take Vick to catch on, or whether he should call her out or just let Madame Pryce settle things with the girl.
Windhawk had been quiet for the whole trip. Garthur had tended to what strain and injuries the dark tentacles had inflicted on her body, but the embarrassment of her own reactions to those invasive lengths was something that would linger on in her own mind. Not a single member of the group that had been there mentioned it, but she constantly shot glares to Alan and Faringalia, and even Vick, the one who eventually cut her down from their writhing grasp.
Still, when they had stopped to allow Garthur to give his blessings over the place Daphne fell, she had seemed almost happy for a moment. Tears had returned to the stoic ranger's features, but they seemed ones of happiness. It was apparent to the rest that a great weight that none of them shared had finally been lifted from the elven woman.
Garthur had complained incessantly about the distance during their walk, but Alan knew that it was his way of showing he was pleased with how things had turned out. It seemed he always drank most and laughed loudest when things were at their most dour, but when events turned out right, he was the first to gripe over the little things. Their mission had been accomplished, and he'd managed to seal another great evil away for however long his blessings would bolstered the Lost Queen's prison. He had been disappointed when the rest had overruled another trek through Pinroot Ruins. The dwarf had so wanted to show off how he had sealed off the entry to the Lost Queen's chambers.
Faringalia had reverted to the chatterbox that so annoyed Alan, but he had learned to tune her out. She was bubbling with excitement over having completed her first adventure as a True Reaver of Aethwin, and had waxed loquacious about how she had saved Vick multiple times, as well as how far the scant items she had collected would go to pay off her debts. He had to admire her eagerness, if not her overactive voice.
The most important of the group, however, had never left Alan's side during the entire trip. Elizabeth Tinsley clung to his side as if frightened he might slip away at any moment. Aside from that, however, she seemed in good spirits. Clad in Alan's cloak, and a simple black shift they had borrowed from the fallen Daphne's supply pack, she still managed to radiate a rare beauty. Nothing supernatural or otherworldly, but the simple attraction of a ready smile and a warm heart.
She recalled every bit of her capture, from the abuses heaped upon her at by the infiltrated guild to the way the bard had charmed her while her memories were subdued. With all that she had been through, however, Lizzy had been more concerned over Alan's state, and had doted on him every moment she could. For a noble who had rarely been subject to such hardship, she had proved quite strong.
Of course, when they had passed the Stranger's body, she had taken a knife to it. It wasn't the savage, raging fit of one driven by anger, but there was a certain rage in her eyes as she systematically cut the flesh. It was done, Windhawk had told Alan later, in a manner that would attract predators and scavengers to the freshly opened wounds, to speed the scattering of the bard's remains. Alan wasn't certain where Lizzy had learned such a thing, and frankly didn't want to know.
She had begged forgiveness for her actions while her memory had been gone, and it took some time for her to accept that Alan would not have faulted her even if there had been no spell.
"I love you, Elizabeth. No matter what you may do or what may happen. I adore you for being you."
Alan didn't think he'd ever seen someone so happy after hearing such a simple truth. He didn't, in all fairness, tell her about his own indiscretions. He wanted her to be happy, and such knowledge might certainly spoil her mood, though he was fairly certain she would forgive him in the end. After all, she had married a scoundrel with full knowledge of his personal failings. With her around to keep him on the straight and narrow, there would be no further lapses.
As they gazed out over the fields before them, Windhawk stopped, then cleared her throat. She waited for the others to turn their attention to her before she spoke, "This is as far as I go, friends. It was grand, adventuring with you once more, but the forest beckons, and I cannot deny its call."
Vick grunted a bit as he looked Windhawk over, but the woman at his side bowed her head.
"It was an honor to meet you, Lady Elf," Lilian's voice sounded as sweet as the rest of her looked. During the entire trip back, Faringalia had been pushing her to consider joining the Reavers, while Vick had been regaling her with tales of their past exploits. It seemed that the young woman was trying to put her best foot forward, in case she did end up joining the newer ranks.
The thief girl's courtesy stirred the fat Count to action, and he nodded, adopting a sober tone, "Windhawk, sorry about your cousin, but it was indeed good to see you in action again. May your travels ever keep you safe."
She offered a gentle smile in return. "Thank you Vick, and there is nothing to be sorry about with Daephraen. She is free now, free of the icy clutch of undeath which kept her from the forests for so long." Her smile grew sad, but she then turned her eyes to Garthur. "Isn't that right?"
"Yes, yes it is, elf." The dwarf stroked his beard as he regarded the ranger. "Keep fighting the dark ones out there. You've gotta pick up the slack so the rest of these old farts can retire." He jutted one thumb to Alan and Vick each.
Windhawk giggled, then turned her eyes to Alan, and Elizabeth in turn. She stepped forward, and hugged Alan's wife gently. "It is good that we have you safe and sound, back where you belong, Mrs. Tinsley. Keep the old man out of trouble, will you?"
Elizabeth laughed gently at the exchange, "Of course, I can only try. Alan is always one to do his own thing."
