The rest of the day was largely rushed by Aldin since he now had to make multiple arrangements. 

First, he spent some gold hiring Mrs. Vinewater from down the road to tend to the various yard work, duties, as well as keeping the house free from any vermin while he was away. 

Next, he had to rid his pantry of the many perishable meals it held; wouldn’t want them to go to waste. So instead, Aldin spent the morning charitably distributing them around to his neighbours. After about noonday, Aldin now had to complete the herculean task of putting away the reading materials he had so thoughtlessly left laying around the many rooms of his home. He dreaded the thought of having to return them to their proper place in the study. 

This, unfortunately, took much of the day and in the end, Aldin was left exhausted. He did pack up one book on Celestial lore that he felt was pertinent to the upcoming endeavour, however.

After dusk, Aldin began to pack for his travel with Lou. The night was filled with a mixture of excitement and absolute dread. 

Getting his pack ready with rations, rope, and a few useful items, Aldin headed for bed.

 “Why did I agree to this?” 

 “Did Lou even say how long we’d be gone?” 

 “Oh jeez, What am I doing?”

After many hours of staring at the ceiling in worry, Aldin finally was able to get some much-needed shuteye.

The day came without warning, light intrusively shined far into the interior of Aldin’s home from the sun above and awoke him abruptly.

After a late lunch of some leftover salted-cod, he was now ready to set off. Although, as he takes his first step out of the door he remembers something important.

 “Oh, right!” 

Aldin quickly went back to his father’s old storage room and began opening up the large wooden chest buried under some old scrolls. Inside glistens a polished steel rapier, its edges: smooth, refined, and sharp. The handle is encrusted with brass and the pommel glimmers a pure blue from a large lapis stone set inside it; his father’s sword.

Aldin takes the time to carefully attach it to his hip, but with his stature, it may have very well been a longsword to the poor boy.

As he heads back through the kitchen, Aldin takes out a small envelope sealed with wax, entitled “~ Mom & Dad” and places it gingerly on the newly-cleaned table.

He begins to turn around but his eyes drift down and notice something he must have forgotten to put away... His redwood lute.

He holds and stares at it for a moment while the scene from yesterday replays in his mind. The way Lou looked at it, her expression when he said he hadn’t played... After a moment he straps it along the side of his backpack and heads out to meet up with Lou.

Following a short walk, he arrives at the small wooden building by the river. Nearby a large sign reads, “Iv Greggson’s Waldemik” meaning, “Greggson’s Taphouse” in Halfling.

Most people just call it “Greggs” however, the building was constructed forty or so years ago by Greggson Undertole and his wife. They decided to build it in response to the younger Halflings and their need for boisterous meals and entertainment. 

Despite Halflings having been a mostly secluded culture for the last few hundred years, lately, with the rise in travellers from The United Capital, Snowholt, and Tegisi, Fairfield has been intermingling with many different people from all over the known world. Because of this, many of the younger generations of Halflings have begun to indulge in exuberant partying and drinking. 

Much to the dismay of many in town.

Coming back here was a little odd for Aldin as he and Lou used to sneak out together to grab a drink when they were teenagers. It was mostly Lou who ended up enjoying herself, however. Aldin, for the most part, was more old fashioned and kept to himself; he hadn’t been back to Greggs in many years, despite living just a stone’s throw away.

Walking inside the doors, Aldin smelt the nostalgic aroma of honey-mead and meat pies. The walls are made of dark wood and dusty gray stonework adorns the floor beneath. Booths line the walls and a small crackling fireplace can be seen to the right. The tables are mostly empty which is odd given the time of day. Then Aldin noticed why... The elephant in the room, or perhaps we should say, the BULL in the room. As there happens to be a six-foot-tall Minotaur sitting at the bar, sipping on a drink with both hands. 

His burgundy muscular physique seemed to take up most of the view of the tiny bar to the left and his jagged horns keep accidentally scraping the woodwork above. On his back is holstered a gargantuan club that looks like a tree trunk that has been shaved down with some kind of primitive tool into a smooth-ish shape. Of the few patrons in the bar, all eyes are on him.

  § Aldin: Wisdom Save: 16-1

Aldin’s immediate panic subsided as he gazes upon this giant among Halflings. He had only read about minotaurs in fables. “The bloodthirsty savage beasts of the Underdark,” But this one seemed to be timid and peaceable enough. 

 “Hey Aldin, over here!” Aldin hears someone shout. 

He searches the room to meet their gaze. Eventually, he catches the sight of Lou who is peeking off the side of this huge creature and waving to him vigorously. Aldin hesitantly approaches the bar where Lou sits, now seeing her more clearly. 

 “Hey, Lou... Who’s your friend?” Aldin says in an unsure tone gesturing to the minotaur. 

 “Oh, that’s just Mini,”

Mini doesn’t turn to Aldin but instead looks down at his drink. Lou’s smile turns to a frown unexpectedly and she smacks the minotaur in the shoulder with the back of her hand forcefully. 

 “Where’re your manners, you big oaf!?” She yells. “Mini, meet Aldin,” 

The Minotaur swivels in his chair, still holding his drink gingerly and stares at Aldin for a moment. There’s a long pause as the two of them look at each other; neither one saying anything. 

Until Mini’s deep bass-like voice fills the bar area with a single word,

 "Hello,” 

Mini doesn’t move.

 “H-Hello,” Aldin replies and Mini immediately turns back toward the bar.

 “He’s cool when you get to know him,” Lou reassures Aldin just before she downs one of the shots left in front of her.

From the other side of the restaurant, some old fart yells over at Mr. Greggson who is currently manning the bar. 

 “Oi Gregg! Ee en ol miva ootsida! Aye gimly fima vomo ee behemothe imarappe, Helvar oote Waldemik!”

Which essentially means in the Halfling tongue: 

 “Hey, Gregg! This is no place for outsiders! I’m trying to eat here and that stinking behemoth is ruining my appetite, get it out of the bar!”

Behind the bar stands the kind old barkeep who answers in Halfling,

 “Listen, Mikel, if you want, you can take your lunch elsewhere. When Ms. Ti’vinor came in she assured me he wouldn’t cause no trouble, and any friend of Lumaria is a friend of mine.”

The elderly man barks back again in Halfling. 

 “Lumaria? This, what... Outsider? You’ve got to be kidding me, Gregg! What is she to you... your Elf slut?!”

Before anyone in the bar can even get a word out, Lou hops off of her seat and turns around to face the man. She stares him down and answers in perfectly fluent Halfling, 

 “Ambe Ina agar im bran an oit iv shroovim dik in trous, im recog oom im slaty, im prune saque min. Orr mabe ee talken Marion iv wor I haer oote im jes? Em soo isha loove id no.”

This mostly translates as, 

 “Maybe if you thought with your brain and not that shrivelled gourd in your trousers, you’d recognize who you’re speaking to, you pruned pink ball sack. Or should I tell Marion the words I just heard come out of your mouth? I’m sure she’d love to know.”

  § Lou: Intimidation: 19+1

You could see the moment Mr. Vinewater realized just who this “outsider” was. His face immediately went flush with red as his mouth opened and quivered lightly, obviously not able to respond. Aldin could feel him shaking from the other side of the room as he let out a few awkward audible noises and immediately fell forwards onto the floor with a loud crash.

You see, Halflings don’t normally share their language. Many of the more orthodox members, such as Mikel Vinewater, disapprove of outsiders and view the Halfling tongue as a sacred tradition among their people. If a Non-Halfling were to ever be able to speak with their words it would only mean one thing. 

This person has been set-apart as a Hovelkiin.

“Hovelkiin” in Halfling translates as “One of our own”. The title is only given to outsiders that have become beloved by the community. To disrespect one such as this brings utter shame upon one’s family name and the societal implications can be dire; torches & pitchforks kind of dire.

Naturally, this is why Gregg, being the upstanding gentleman he is, allowed something such as a Minotaur into his taphouse on the reassuring word of a Hovelkiin alone. It’s also why Mr. Vinewater who was so full of self-assurance and brash words a moment ago is now begging for mercy at the boots of Lumaria Ti’vinor.

Or as everyone in boulder used to call her, “Lou”. 

Elvish names can sometimes become taxing on the tongue of simple small folk, so when Lumaria was found alone in the streets of Boulder as a young girl, the townsfolk decided to give her a nickname instead.

 “Please! Lou, I’m sorry! It’s been so long since I last saw you, I didn’t recognize you!”

The old man looked up and saw the stern and angry face of Lou staring back indignantly. 

 “Please! Isn’t there something… ANYTHING I could do to repair this grave indecency?!?” He yelled in the common tongue, obviously with more concern for his reputation than for Lou’s feelings.

After hearing this, Lou bends down into a squat until she is just a foot above the grovelling Halfling and twists her mouth into a malicious smile.

 “Now we’re talking,” She chuckles as she aggressively pats Mikel’s cheek with the flat of her hand.

 “Lou. That’s enough.” A mysterious voice chimes in from the back of the bar with a breathy foreign accent.

A previously unnoticed five-and-a-half foot tall figure slides off his stool and walks over to Lou as she turns her attention to them. Bright yellow eyes can barely be seen glimmering faintly beneath their darkened hood.

 “It’s time to go.” They speak softly to her.

 “Oh, come on Jorasko, it was just getting to the good part!” Lou replies to the figure. 

She turns back to Mr. Vinewater and scoffs in annoyance, 

 “Oh get up Mikel! The townsfolk aren’t going to throw you to the wolves just because of some stupid drunken comment.” 

She pulls Mikel up to his feet and gives him a few more hard pats on the cheek. 

 “Just don’t be such an asshole next time, capiche?”

Mikel nods in agreement. 

 “It was great catching up Gregg!” Lou yells over to the bar.

 “Always a pleasure, Ms. Lumaria!” Mr. Greggson calls back happily to Lou before his eyes dart back to Mikel with serious disdain.

Mini places his glass down slowly and slides a silver piece along the bar to Greggson before turning to head out with Lou and the other figure known as Jorasko.

 “Come on Aldin, we can talk more on the way to camp.”

 “Right.” 

       • • •

The road out of town was seldom used. The farmers were the only ones who frequented the trail so most of the road currently lays overcome with weeds and white flowers. The nearby trees hang low over the path while the four of them walked away from Boulder.

Aldin looked back as the crest of the hilltop homes faded from view.

 “Where’s this camp?” Aldin asks.

Jorasko answers in a breathy tone, 

 “Off the side of the road, about an hour and 10 minutes from here. It shouldn’t be long.”

 “Oh okay... Your name was Jorasko, was it? I’ve never heard an accent like yours. Where’re you from?”

There’s a long pause. 

 “Tegisi,”

 “Oh! Lou’s from there but she had a different accent than yours when we were kids.”

 “Aldin, stop prying,” Lou calls back from a few paces in front.

 “Right, sorry,” Aldin responds, looking down at the ground.

As the party enters the small woods to the north of town, the light from above diminishes and is lost in the overgrown trees. Minuscule flies buzz all around them and a scent of white willow flowers lingers nearby. 

The canopy above breathes and waves in the breeze while multiple birds can even be heard singing sweetly in the distance.

After just over an hour, Jorasko’s voice cuts through the brush, 

 “We’re here.”

One after one, Aldin watches as Lou, Mini, and Jorasko, disappear into the bushes to the right.

Following them, Aldin finds a hidden camp tightly nestled between a few birch trees. He quickly notices three tents that are set up around what seems to be a makeshift fire pit. 

Jorasko is already down on one knee, attempting to start the fire with a flint. Sparks fly off the steel toward the small mound of twigs on the ground.

  § Jorasko: Survival: 3+4

 “Damn it... Mini!” Jorasko yells over to the other side of camp.

 “Yeah?” Mini’s deep bellowing voice echoes from within his tent.

 “Where did you collect this wood?”

 “Down by the creek,”

 “Oh, you logger-headed horned beast, they’re all wet! What... did you fish them out of a fucking beaver dam or something?!”

 “Sorry,” Mini apologizes candidly, still inside the tent.

 “Perhaps I can help,” Aldin steps up close to him.

Jorasko eyes Aldin up and down from inside his still darkened hood.

  § Jorasko: Insight: 8+2

Unsure about Aldin, he gestures toward the campfire, 

 “You are welcome to try.”

Aldin holds his hand out to the pile of sticks and makes a flicking motion with his wrist, 

 “Igni,” 

he speaks and a flame blooms in the pit, quickly igniting the surrounding wood.

 “Well… Lou didn’t mention you were a mage.”

 “Mage? Oh, no. I think you’re mistaken,” Aldin waves his hands dismissively and chuckles, “I’m no mage, I just read a bit. Almost anyone can conjure something like this if they’re given a few days to practice and-”

 “Mage!?” Lou steps out of her tent, currently unwrapping her wrists and knuckles from the thick red gauze she had them bound in, “Aldin was always a bookworm, but I wouldn’t call him a 'mage'. More like a…uh, flowery magician.” She laughs sarcastically and sits down by the fire.

 “Ah, I see,” Jorasko murmurs.

Quickly wanting to change the subject, Aldin sits by the fire and begins speaking, 

 “So, what’s changed, Lou? What have you been up to?” 

As he asks this, Mini’s snout pokes out slowly from inside his tent, his horns poking into the fabric from within ever so gently.

 “Just a minute... Mini,” Lou calls out to him. “If you want to be a part of the conversation, all you have to do is come sit down. Sorry, he can get a bit shy around new people.”

  § Lou: Persuasion: 1+3 [CRITICAL FAIL]

It seems her tone may have been a bit too much for the bull. They watch Mini’s snout slowly reenter the tent and Lou lets out a big sigh.

The light from above the trees is beginning to dim now, and the faint twinkling of starlight can start to be seen far overhead.

 “To answer your question… there’s been a lot. Where do I start? Um, after I left… uh…” She begins to trail off but quickly finds her words once more. “After I began travelling, I thought I’d head up to Tegisi; get back to my roots, you know? Maybe look for my parents again, see if anyone had heard of them. Unfortunately, I just found a lot of dead ends. I… I don’t think they ever went back there.” She stares into the crackling fire for a moment.

 “Oh. I know we always talked about going back but... I’m really sorry to hear that,” Aldin comments.

 “Don’t be. It’s fine,” She says with her eyes still glued to the flame. “After that, I worked for a bit up there. I actually ended up joining the army, believe it or not.” 

Aldin’s eyebrows raise unexpectedly. 

 “Yeah, while I was up there I was able to connect with my culture a bit. Everyone joins the army up there; battle is like a right of passage. So I thought I’d try it out, It’s how I earned my wraps.” She gestures proudly down at her chest which is bound in a tight crisscrossed orange fabric, “It was cool. I got to learn a thing or two about fighting. That’s where I met Jorasko!”

Before Aldin can even ask, Jorasko, who is currently sitting on the opposite end of the fire, pipes up while he stirs a small pot of soup, 

 “A story for another time.”

There’s a tense moment as Lou stares at Jorasko is silence.

 “That’s okay, I-” Aldin is cut off as Lou speaks up.

 “Jor, why do you still have that stupid hood up? It’s almost night time. You look like a creep.” Her tone is harsh and she looks at him unblinkingly.

Jorasko doesn’t move.

 “Take it off,” She commands.

 “I do not want to scare-”

 “Take it off.” Every word out of Lou’s mouth is like an arrow let loose.

 “...Fine,”

He pulls back his hood to reveal a grey-furred feline face with two piercing yellow eyes that turn toward Aldin. As Aldin can see now, his fur is well-groomed and atop his head are two pointed catlike ears that come to dark grey tips. The fur from his chest lightly billows out of his cloak and has a much brighter white complexion. A long dark tail uncurls from behind him and sways rhythmically side to side. But the most striking feature Aldin notices is the interesting pattern on his upper lip which curves up and down into almost a little handlebar mustache.

  § Aldin: History: 10+4

 “Oh,” Aldin lets out a small bit of surprise. 

 “I did not want to scare the townsfolk. Many do not take kindly to outsiders.” Jorasko explains hesitantly.

 “I… I think I’ve actually heard about people like you before, um… You’re a Tibixi, right?”

 “Tabaxi,” Jorasko growls at him through gritted teeth.

 “Jorasko!” Lou jumps down his throat. “There’s no need to be rude. Aldin wasn’t trying to insult you... Hell, most people around here would run away screaming if they saw you. At least Aldin's trying to be kind.” 

  § Lou: Persuasion: 5+3

Jorasko stares down at his soup in silence.

 “As for Mini, that’s a bit of a long story,” Lou begins speaking to Aldin again, but Jorasko stands up.

 “I’m going to sleep before Mini begins snoring. ‘Busuku benzolo,’” Jorasko says to Lou as he picks up his pot and heads off to his tent.

 “Nakuwe ngokunjalo,” Lou responds in Tegesian. 

Although Aldin doesn’t understand the Tegesian language, he’s heard it enough times in passing from Lou to understand when it’s being spoken. 

 “What’s his deal?” Aldin asks.

 “I think he’s just a little shy,” Lou says before Jorasko yells angrily from inside his tent. 

 “Ayinanto yokwenza neentloni, andazi ukuba kutheni undinyanzela ukuba ndithethe nabantu esingabaziyo!”

 “Andenzi. Ukuba ungcono kuyo!” Lou argues back.

She turns back to Aldin, 

 “Sorry about that. We should probably get to bed though, Mini’s snoring is no joke,” she laughs.

Aldin looks around the campsite again and counts the tents in his head, 

 “...1, 2, 3.”

 “Oh crap, where am I suppose to sleep!?”

 “You packed a bedroll right?” Lou asks with a bit of apprehension.

 “Well… yeah.”

Lou has a small sigh of relief as she parts her tent door, 

 “You’re welcome to sleep in my tent for tonight, otherwise you can always sleep under the stars.” She says before she vanishes into the door.

Aldin stares at the tent for a moment, his chest feels heavy and a lump builds in his throat. 

  Odd = Sleep in Tent     §      Even = Sleep Outside   =18

 “Nope,” He thinks to himself. 

He then calls into Lou’s tent, 

 “I’ll just sleep out here, Always liked the stars anyway. Goodnight Lou.”

  § Lou: Deception: 14+2 [Advantage]

 “Alright, Goodnight!”

Aldin quietly unfurls his sleeping bag and lays it along the ground next to the fire. After getting comfortable, he waves his hand and magically extinguishes the light.

Aldin had never slept outside before, the very thought made him uncomfortable, but an even more uncomfortable thought arose when he considered entering the tent with Lou.

The forest at night was foreign to Aldin and every small sound sent his mind into a tumultuous storm of paranoid delusions. 

 “There are no owlbears in Boulder. There are no owlbears in Boulder. There are no owlbears in Boulder,” he repeats to himself. Deep under the covers, he begins to finally come to restful sleep. 

But then… 

A THUNDEROUS SNORE echoes through the trees and fills the forest. Sleeping birds are quickly roused from slumber and sent flying across the sky above. Aldin groans and buries his face in his blanket. After a few attempts, Aldin once again finds a comfortable spot away from Mini’s tent and comes silently to a peaceful rest.