Fall 10, 511 A.V. It had been an interesting two months, living in the little town. Denval certainly wasn’t big enough to merit classification as a city – yet it was far bigger than a village. The people, both natives and travelers, had been generally pleasantly friendly, and helpful, and Syllke was now quite familiar with the layout of the place, and where things were. The Labyrinth, the Captain’s Hall, the Market, the Chapel – and the Lyceum, of course, where he slept and worked some part of most days. The Vantha had managed to keep up some sort of friendship with his Kelvic shipmate, and he had enjoyed exploring the town and its environs in Galio’s company on many occasions. It was a small place after all. But the two boys had taken somewhat to roaming far afield – or as far as the surrounding, impassable hills of disrupted stone would allow. To date, Galio had not managed to ascertain the whereabouts of his sisters, but he was ever hopeful that one day either or both of them would show up. As fall approached, and the weather began to cool considerably in this northern settlement, the two friends would often wander about until it was dark, and then retreat to a warm and cozy place they had quickly located – the local bar. Called the Stranger’s Welcome, it was well named and well stocked with many sorts of drink from places near and far. Trading vessels still frequented the harbor, and brought beverages both alcoholic and otherwise to keep the patrons of the Stranger happy. Once the winter ice set in, the ships would not be able to come, so the proprietor, Oleg, was making sure he had plenty in his storerooms to last the long winter. Syllke, for his part, enjoyed sampling a different brew each time, and had found a great liking for a dark, almost black, variety of beer made from malted barley, though he was prone to indulging in much lighter and more intoxicating varieties of liquor as well. Tonight, as he pushed open the door to the Stranger - dulling the sound of the autumn ocean smacking against the quay as it closed behind him - he was already contemplating what he wished to imbibe. Galio was due to arrive soon as well, and Syllke did not linger by the entrance but made his way to a bar counter. Leaning against it, he haled a familiar face behind it. “Lena!” He said with his ever present, ready smile. He had struck up an amiable accord with the tall redhead – a girl so unlike the girls in Avanthal. Before he even ordered his drink, he launched right into the question to which he was dying for an answer. “Have you thought it over? Will you pose for me?” The Vantha’s eyes sparkled in the ruddy hues of the firelight in the great hearth and the lanterns hanging from walls and ceiling - not only with the reflection of the flames, but also with their own peculiar glints of gold and crimson and orange. This was a sure sign that he was excited, or feeling exceptionally good about something – in this case the prospect of carving his own interpretation of the striking girl with the odd spatters decorating her fair skin. He grinned broadly. “You can ask Galio when he shows up – it’s not so bad. I won’t make you stay still for so very long. And I’ll even let you keep your clothes on.” Of course, when he had had the Kelvic pose, it had been in his bear form, so technically, he had had no clothes on – but lots and lots of fur. “And I’ll throw in lunch, or dinner. Do you like raw trout or raw salmon better?” |