The sound of harsh winds and the crashing fall of a few old stones are what woke Lazuel up that morning. She sat up in her bed and quickly scanned the room before coming to the realization that it had just been the storm outside. With this knowledge she allowed herself to relax a bit as she slipped her legs from under the covers and placed her feet firmly on the ground, which were covered in thick woolen socks.
Lazuel resigned herself to taking a more laxed look around now that she wasn’t searching for danger. The walls were adorned with weapons, shields, and monster trophies, the floor had a saber skin rug and the bed was made from a soft almost cloud like material. The room smelled of a mixture of lavender and gun oil. It was very reminiscent of the barracks from winter deep where Lazuel used to work and live.
She stood up from her bed and stretched as she thought about the night before. Lazuel’s mind drifted first to the journey to this frozen tower. It is truly a miracle I even made it here she thought to herself while picking out what she was going to wear. Without strangling Torrum to death, that is, She laughed to herself as she picked out a deep sea green tunic.
I swear that dwarf is just trying to get me to kill him, then thinking of his interaction with Nephadius, along and everyone else as well, I suppose. Her brows furrowed with annoyance as she fidgeted with a pair of brown leather trousers, it seems like no matter how I try to speak to him, he just responds with some snarky reply or an annoyed glare.
With a sigh as she finally managed to get the pants to stay put, she moved next to affixing her boots. Well, at least the others seem somewhat cheerful, she thought to herself, humming a tune while lacing and buckling her chitin boots. Poem is interesting, to say the least. I can’t tell if she is just acting childish, or if she really is just young, Lazuel thought quizzically to herself, smiling as she finally finished the fittings on her boots. Kazalath certainly has no excuse though, he's just plain stupid, Lazuel thought worryingly to herself while she tied her hair up in a neat ponytail, I hope that doesn't come back to bite us later.
Then there is Nephadius, what a character, she moved about the room, collecting her bow and arrows. I can’t tell what his deal is, he seems really nice, but also too nice? Lazuel fixed her bow and pack on her back. But he certainly seems to mean well, he defused the situation, commanded the room, and then gave us all a reminder as to why we are here all without making anyone feel too attacked. She began to fashion her quiver to her right side, I just don’t like that I can’t see what is going on in his head. He's so well managed, well spoken, well postured and, well, everything.
She moved to stand in front of the mirror, making sure her appearance was up to her own standards before retrieving her gauntlets and heading to the door. Perhaps I’m being too brash, I barely know him after all. Not to mention I think about things too hard sometimes. Slipping her on her gauntlet and fidgeting with the golden plated adamantine knuckles, she stopped just before the door, holding her left hand over her chest, and her right hand over the left.
Letting out a pitiful sigh, she continued to fidget with the gauntlet as she thought sadly to herself, I wish you were here to guide me father, like you used to. Regaining her composure, she opened the door, and began to make her way towards the dining hall. As she closed the door to her room, she took a careful glance up and down the hall which contained their rooms. It was about ten feet wide and thirty feet long.
At the very end of the hallway, next to a frosted window, were the doors to Lazuel and Torrum’s rooms. Lazuel’s was on the right and Torrum’s the left. Just past them were Kazalath and Poem’s rooms. Poem was on Lazuel’s side of the hall, while Kazalath’s was on Torrum’s. And as she went further down, she saw that Nephadius’s was too. So all the guys on one side, and the girls on the other, eh, she laughed to herself as she started towards the staircase, fine by me.
But before she made her way down, she noticed there was one other door on her side of the hall just across from Nephadius’s, except this one had no name. She tried the handle but found it to be locked. Thinking not much of it she decided to move on downstairs to get something to eat, but she couldn't shake a strange feeling in her stomach.
Before Lazuel even made it to the entrance of the dinning hall, she caught scent of what smelled like bacon, sausage, and fresh fruit. At this she picked up her pace. As she got closer to the entrance, she could hear the playful bickering of Poem and Kazalath, but not yet what they were arguing about. When she finally arrived in the kitchen, she was greeted by quite a bizarre scene.
Kazalath seemed to be trying to eat all of the available bacon in the bowl, but to Lazuel’s surprise, despite the massive size difference between him and Poem, she just kept getting the bacon away from him. The situation seemed to just be getting worse but when she looked around the kitchen to see where the chef was, she was struck by a moment of disbelief as she saw Nephadius in an apron cooking eggs, bacon, sausage, and fruity pancakes. She couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the sight.
Just as it seemed like Kazalath was about to throw the table in frustration, a large plate of bacon, sausage, eggs and pancakes appeared in front of him, immediately diverting his attention. Poem, who now looked jealous, was clearly about to steal from Kazalath and cause a whole new strand of issues, had a plate of a similar fashion, but smaller portion, set in front of her.
As Lazuel was watching the two ravenous dig into their dishes like they hadn't eaten in a week, she was startled when she realized that Nephadius was standing right in front of her.
“A most gracious morning to you my dear, would you care for something to eat or drink?” Nephadius inquired, “I have assembled quite the breakfasty fare this morn,” he proudly informed her, gesturing with his hands to the pile of food and vast sea of dirty cooking war. Lazuel also noticed that the trash can seemed to also be freshly filled with food.
“Of course I would love a plate! I skipped dinner last night in favor of sleep and warmth so I’m absolutely starved,” she told him as she moved towards the mountain of food, but she stopped as Nephadius blocked her path.
“Oh no, no, no, have a seat and tell me what you would like, I will prepare it for you,” Nephadius told her while guiding her to a seat.
Oh! Uh, why thank you, I’ll have a bit of everything with some coffee,” Lazuel said before quickly adding, “if you have any, that is.” She was surprised at the level of hospitality this person she barely knew seemed to be treating her with. It was nice, but also a bit concerning. I’ll have to keep an eye on this, she thought.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the thud of a full plate being sat before her, and then again by a cup while Nephadius poured coffee into it. She was just about to ask if he had any honey, but to her surprise there was already a bottle next to her cup along with a siring stick. How could he have possibly known I would want honey in my coffee, she wondered as she stirred her drink and began to consume the delicious pile of food on her plate. Perhaps it’s just a coincidence? She thought, it just seems like too much of a convenient ‘coincidence’ to be true.
Watching Nephadius hum as he glided elegantly about the kitchen, Lazuel’s eyes narrowed with a thought, is he also responsible for my strangely well tailored room? Lazuel was trying to decide whether or not to question him about it, when several loud thuds announced the arrival of groggy Torrum.
“Well good morning sleepy head,” Lazuel teased as he walked by. Torrum either hadn't heard her, or was just ignoring her, something made her think this was most likely the latter. You don’t have to joke back, but you could at least say good morning, jerk. Lazuel thought bitterly to herself, before pushing it to the back of her head, as it was ruining a perfectly good breakfast.
“Ah, Torrum, good to see that we have yet to lose you,” Nephadius added to Lazuel’s teasing, “I had thought for certain you had turned to stone with how soundly you were sleeping.” Lazuel laughed to herself over Nephadius’s remark before stopping mid bite, was he, watching us sleep? She then shook her head in denial, there’s no way, he probably just checked up on everyone when he woke up this morning.
“Tell me, what strikes your fancy for breakfast upon this snowy morn?” Nephadius asked Torrum, giving him a kind and patient smile.
“What ever ya can spare,” Torrum replied sleepily. He was half dressed in his armor, with only the basics of his basic plate mail and leather tunic on. He did however bring his hammer with him, Lazuel noted.
Torrum sat in the empty seat next to her, she had been across from Kazalath and Poem, with Poem to her left and Kazalath to her right. Torrum sat in between her and Kazalath, meaning he got bumped every so often by the massive dragonkin. Torrum’s patience was waning, but it was momentarily restored as a large plate of food and a tankard of ale was placed in front of him by Nephadius. He shoveled the food into his mouth greedily and savored every sip of the ale he was given.
And not so much as a thank you, Lazuel thought while rolling her eyes, typical Torrum. But that same uneasy feeling in her stomach from earlier was back. Her brow furrowed as she tried to place what about this was still bugging her. While she was lost in thought, Nephadius had dipped himself up a plate and taken a seat in between her and Poem. He ate as elegantly as he talked, and he sipped at his tea as if it were some fine wine.
Then it finally struck her. Wait, Torrum never asked for a drink, how did he know he wanted ale? As her thoughts began to race she looked up at Nephadius who met her gaze with a knowing smile. Lazuel began to panic. Her mind raced over every possibility. Is he reading our minds? Watching us when we aren’t aware of it? Do I know him from somewhere? Besides the actual fact of the matter being that Nephadius seemed to have an uncanny knowledge about them, the thing that scared her the most, was the very matter that it could be anything. She sat staring at her coffee for a time, trying to organize her thoughts in order to formulate a sentence.
But before she could even begin to speak, the time bomb that was Torrum and Kazalath finally went off. Kazalath had been telling Poem about something he had seen just outside the tower that morning, swearing it was a dragon, when his tail got out of control and the tankard of ale flying from Torrum’s hands, coming to a rest in a puddle of the bitter amber liquid after clattering to a stop on the ground halfway across the kitchen.
“Watch where ya flicken your tail ye gravel-brained git!” Torrum spat at Kazalath before exploding up from his seat to retrieve his discarded tankered, knocking Kazalath’s own plate over in the process.
“Hey! You just tossed my food dwarf! Kazalath exclaimed as he stood up from his seat, scraping together what was left of his pancakes and sausage.
“APOLOGIZE!” Kazalath roared as he spun around to look down towards Torrum, who was pleading with the puddle of liquid on the ground, desperately trying to cox it back into the glass like some animal to its cage.
Hearing Kazalath’s response, Torrum shot up from the ground and responded with a roar of his own, “Me apologize!? Yer ta one who knocked me drink from me bloody hands, ya overgrown lizard!”
“Well maybe,” Kazalath shot back, “If ya didn’t hold onto the drink like a pansy you would still have your drink, cause I wasn’t even trying to toss the cup and it went flying!”
Swelling with rage like a volcano about to blow, Torrum shouted back more angry by the word, “Oh I was holden’ it fuckin’ fine, if it wern’t for that fat tail o’ yers!”
Lazuel looked between the two, concerned a fight might start. Poem also looked back and forth from Kazalath to Torrum, her glances looking increasingly concerned by the second. Before Lazuel got up from her seat, she looked towards Nephadius, whom she had momentarily forgotten about in all the commotion, half expecting him to have prepared a solution to the battle currently being waged over breakfast. Instead, Lazuel was surprised to find that Nephadius was still sipping on his tea, looking towards the two like they were just children causing a commotion, disappointment evident on his face.
It would seem that stopping this foolishness is up to me then Lazuel thought to herself with a sigh as she rose quickly from her seat and made her way between the two manchildren.
“Why don’t ya make yer way on over here then drake, that head o’ yours will make for an excellent trophy on the wall of my room!” Torrum bellowed at Kazalath, his anger finally erupting out of him.
“Not your horns thought,” Torrum continued venomously, “They're far too broken to be on any self respecting dwarf’s wall, better suited for the hounds.”
Kazalath returned Torrums anger with an enraged war cry of his own, “Ya know I was just thinking about how nice of a belt that beard of yours would make!”
Then, with a cruel smile Kazalath added, “But then again, perhaps it would be better served as a tie for my new dwarf skin satchel!” Lazuel was taken aback by the last comment, even Torrum seemed to be momentarily stunned by the thought of being skinned for the sake of making a bag. Looking around the room, Lazuel found that Nephadius had stopped mid sip of his tea, and stared at Kazalath with an eyebrow raised. But when she looked towards Poem, she found her looking terrified towards Kazalath. When she followed her gaze, Lazuel found herself looking into Kazalath’s eyes.
Before they were a reddish amber color, with a scorched hue to them that was not uncommon amongst dragon kin. However, they now glowed with a reddish purple glow. They almost looked like they were on fire. Before the pair could take the situation any further, Lazuel stepped in between the two just as she had done the night before with Torrum and Nephadius.
“Alright I think that is enough out of you two!” Lazuel said as angrily as she could manage, but a little bit of fear rode on the fringes of her voice, something about the way Kazalath was looking at her made her want to retreat into her own skin and hide away there forever. She was no coward and had faced plenty of terrifying situations, both on and off the battlefield. But something about Kazalath felt off, it gave her the sense of being both powerless and alone in a room full of people.
Torrum must have noticed her uneasiness, because his anger immediately dissipated and was replaced with a protective aura. Torrum relaxed his aggressive posture and went to stand by Lazuel’s side. Lazuel, surprised by his sudden change of deposition, looked into the eyes of the dwarf, surprise evident in her face. Though Kazalath’s presence was menacing, something about the way Torrum being next to her filled Lazuel with a new found sense of courage.
“Listen, perhaps I was a tad bit too hasty in my anger, tis early in the mornin’ after all,” Torrum said with a somewhat less annoyed expression on his face.
So why don’t we just go back ta eatin’ breakfast, I think we might be disrupting’ the others,” Torrum stated plainly, looking expectantly at Kazalath. Who was staring back at him with a foreign ferocity spread across his face. He didn’t respond for a time. It wasn’t until Poem stood up on the table and whispered something into his ear that he seemed to calm down. The flaming blueish purple dining, and the anger dissipating from his face. He shook his head and then looked around the room as if he were confused. His gaze stopped on Torrum and he gave him a wide and toothy grin.
“Huh? Oh, did I say something? Must've slipped. My bad." Kazalath stared blankly while looking down towards Torrum and Lazuel with a dumb expression on his face. Torrum just blinked at him for a few moments, as if trying to figure out whether the dragonkin was serious or not. Lazuel wondered the same thing herself, He can’t be serious right? Is he just trying to act like none of that happened? She wondered to herself her eyes narrowing as another thought came to her, or does he actually not know what he just did.
Torrum seemed to be on the same train of thought as he next asked Kazalath, “The hell ya mean ‘slipped’, you were threatening ta skin me half a minute ago.”
Kazalath just regarded him with the same dumb smile across his face, “Skin you? Na, I’d prefer wolf hide or some kind of leather or pelt, your skin would be too much to fragile for a bag.”
He’s got to be joking, right? Lazuel genuinely couldn’t tell with the big dragonkin, he seemed like he didn’t remember the previous conversation, but he also just brought up the bag thing like before even though no one had mentioned it since. Torrum seemed like he was just done with the entire situation.
“I’m gonna just head back to me room,” the dwarf announced tiredly, “I’m not drunk enough for this shit.” And with a final snatch at the discarded tankard, Torrum took a bottle of ale and headed for the door.
“Come now everyone,” Nephadius interjected as he slipped in front of the door, blocking Torrum’s escape.
“Let us not fall to the discord of unfettered dialogue, for a lack of interaction only leads down the crooked passroads of damnation.” Nephadius exclaimed while throwing his arms out in a dramatic pause. During which Lazuel stared dumbfounded at the hellkin, he can’t truly be serious can he? No, he’s just toying with everyone. At the thought, another memory came rushing back to the present. Crap! Lazuel cursed herself, I nearly let my suspicions slip away in the chaos.
Seeing that everyone was now paying attention, if a little annoyed, Nephadius continued, “I will not stand by as all of you continue to behave like a gaggle of unruly children!”
“But now that I’ve got your attention, I believe now is the point where It would be in everyone’s best interest that I assign some tasks,” Nephadius lowered his tone in an almost scolding manner.
“After all, if your instance in acting like children persists, then I have no choice but to treat you as such.” He declared while closing his eyes and shaking his head disapprovingly.
Torrum began to protest the thought, but before he could get a word out Nephadius interrupted him.
“Torrum, glad to see you volunteer to take on your assignment first!” Nephadius said while smiling down towards the dwarf.
“Now you hang on to those pretty little horns of ya’s, I didn't… ” Torrum started, but once again before he could finish Nephadius interjected him.
I would like for you to head on up to the top of the tower and keep watch of the Western side, it looks over the ocean and the plains just before it,” Nephadius informed him before quickly adding, “You also might want to take this with you.” He handed Torrum an amber colored bottle depicting a dragon eating fire across it in the form of two large warped images, one on either side. Torrum took the bottle and inspected its ruff glassy surface carefully.
“What is it?” The dwarf inquired after a moment of careful inspection.
“It is a bottle of Flaming Scale Mead of course,” Nephadius stated matter of factely, “It does quite well at staving off even the deepest of chills, if you catch my meaning.” Nephadius winked at Torrum, who, realizing that he had just been given an excuse to leave and go drink in peace, happily accepted his assignment. And off the dwarf went, not before grabbing his hammer and stealing another bottle of booze.
After the door closed behind Torrum Nephadius continued, “As for Kazalath and Poem, we need some individuals on the ever important case of walking the battlements and making sure all the guards are in line.” Kazalath’s face lit up with excitement, obviously thrilled at the prospect of holding any power over others and shouting orders. Poem also looked excited, though for what Lazuel was not sure. But before she could think on the matter further, it was her turn.
“Ah yes, as for you Lazuel, I believe your skills in reconnaissance will come in handy. You see, we are in dire need of someone to check the perimeters and make sure there are no infernal surprises awaiting us in the night.” Nephadius explained thoughtfully while stroking his goatee.
“And, since I’m certain some would question whether or not I have work of my own, the answer is yes.” Nephadius stated in an almost bored tone, but Lazuel could tell that even that seemed forced, “I have a great deal of paperwork to get to you see, the keep and our actions here all must be recorded.”
“But nonetheless, we all have our own jobs to get to, and there are so few hours in the day.” Nephadius said remorsefully, “However, should you have need of me I will be located in my quarters.” After handing out assignments and stating his own, Nephadius turned to walk away, and to Lazuel’s surprise, so did Kazalath and Poem. Seriously, Lazuel thought to herself, no one else thinks this is weird? She Stared after Nephadius, watching the ever graceful hellkin practically float up the steps in a practiced and perfect form.
Am I just being paranoid? Lazuel doubted herself, then quickly shook her head. No, something was definitely wrong. But what could she do about it? Lazuel let out a defeated sigh, well, he is right about the scouting plan. And taking a better look around the place certainly isn't a bad idea. She turned and made her own way towards the door, but instead of heading back to her room or up further in the keep, she started in the direction of the room they had all sat in last night. Once there Lazuel took a cautionary look around, noting that the fireplace was still lit and as warm as ever, the tables had been cleaned and any trace they had ever been there last night removed entirely.
Not wanting to dwell in the room much longer, she made her way through the opposing door and stood before the gate of wood and iron. The guard from the night before stood just to her left in a small outlet. He sat on a wooden stool that was looking into a peephole that was hidden on the other side, to his right there was a box full of papers and other booklets. Before she could start any kind of conversation with him, he looked up towards her, sighed, and pulled the lever. The gate slowly rose up before her, allowing a rough gust of frigid air to tear into her flesh and bite at her neck.
Lazuel slipped outside quickly, not wanting to let the hot air escape and worsen the guards’ conditions. Though the air was cold and unforgiving as the lowest layers of the abyss, there was something strangely refreshing about it. Lazuel hurried down the old stone keep, pressing herself against its bricks and pulling her cloak tight against the mountain winds. As she descended down the snow covered mountain path, the thick haze of the blizzard let up a little, not much, but just enough to see properly. Though this cold climate was unlike anything back home, Lazuel’s recon training began to kick in as she started down and along the path. She veered off to the side in order to gain the cover of what little foliage was around.
Not to mention that being directly on the path, even if it was buried in two feet of snow, was a great way to get yourself in trouble. Focusing in, Lazuel’s mind quieted as her body seemed to move on its own, conditioned from years of training as she scouted all along the perimeter of the keep. After about an hour she was satisfied that there would be no trouble, at least for now. The only thing of note was a few animals coated in brown fur with horns that looked like the branches on a tree.
From her schooling she knew these were called deer. Quite beautiful Lazuel thought to herself, I had read of them but to see one is something else. She took a moment to watch as they ran through the snow in a small group yet also their own little lines. They are quite fast, and you'd think with such long legs they wouldn’t want to run so low to the ground Lazuel laughed to herself, funny little things, quite different from the critters in Izomii.
She thought for a moment about tracking them down the mountain so that she might bring one back for dinner. Too fast, she reasoned, not to mention it would be dark by the time I was back up the mountain. So Lazuel headed back up to the keep, leaving the deer to run and roam another day.
* * *
Lazuel rushed over to sit by the still lit hearth at the far end of the entry room. Like Torrum the night before, she had rushed in so fast that she hadn’t even remembered to greet the guards beyond informing them who she was and how they had better let her in. But after a moment of warming up, back she went to her room to grab a fresh, non-wet, change of clothes. While Lazuel walked up the steps she noticed that no one else seemed to wander the halls. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought this place all but abandoned, she thought as she made her way to her own room door.
Lazuel opened the door as the familiar smell of the barracks greeted her once again. She was still suspicious of it, but grateful nonetheless. As Lazuel rummaged through her bags, looking for some spare clothes, she instead found her time piece. At first she thought little of it, but decided to see just how long it had been. Nearly four hours? Lazuel blinked in surprise. Had she really been out that long? No wonder her stomach felt hollow—she had missed lunch entirely. She hastily scoured the bag's contents for her spare change, well crap, she thought to herself while throwing on the first pair of paints, socks, and shirt she found. With any luck the others just assumed I was still scouting and didn't go looking for me. Lazuel hoped while practically kicking herself down the hall and into the lunchroom.
After making her way to the eating area, she found that it was quiet and empty. Scanning the room as she had been taught to do with any space she might find herself in, no matter the comfort, Lazuel found that while the table showed signs of use, there was not a spec of food or cutlery anywhere to be seen. I wonder what I missed out on, she thought to herself, walking briskly to the cupboards then to the pantry. I imagine Nephadius made some extravagant meal Lazuel pictured while slicing into a loaf of bread and fetching a clean wooden plate. I wonder if this meal went better than the last, or if there were any more scuffles she pondered, but quickly answered herself, even if there were I’m sure Nephadius took care of it. Lazuel let out a sigh as she sliced up some tomatoes and began cutting into a head of lettuce. But she paused for a moment as a thought came back to her.
What is it with him? She asked herself, he seems so in control, why? Continuing her mental debate as she aggressively cut apart the lettuce, and more importantly, how. Lazuel reflected on this for a time while finishing up the lettuce and while whisking together eggs, cooking oil, vinegar, and a pinch of sugar. Ugh she exclaimed, this is getting me nowhere. Lazuel grumbled to herself while frying some bacon she found in the icebox. After the bacon was done cooking, Lazuel let out a defeated sigh as she assembled her meal. No point in further sulking on it she thought, besides, it’s not like he’s done any harm anyhow. She mulled the thought over as she spread the egg emulsion on her bread, then layered on sliced tomatoes, a sprinkle of lettuce, and crispy bacon.
Lazuel sat down at the table in the same spot she had earlier that morning. On to other matters she contemplated, while I’m glad they didn’t freak out and go looking for me, I would have thought there to be some kind of commotion. She sulked while looking around the room. Lazuel munched on her sandwich, taking slow considerate bites, careful not to spill any crumbs or drips of the sauce. Though I do wonder how the others are fairing she mused, Torrums probably black out drunk on the walls. Lazuel laughed to herself, I bet he didn’t make it to lunch either. She turned to look out towards the door, Kazalath and Poem are likely giving the guards all kinds of trouble. She might not have known Kazalath or Poem for long, but somehow, it felt like they'd been together for years.
Ha, with any luck it is an omen of the good times to come she chuckled to herself, almost choking on her food in the process. And Nephadius, hmm, he said there was paperwork to do she pondered while finishing off the last bite of her meal. Didn’t he also invite us to come have a chat if we wanted? Actually that’s perfect! Lazuel hopped up excitedly from her seat and began clearing her spot. Why didn’t I do this before, there’s no need for conspiracy, just go talk to him! She scraped what few crumbs had fallen onto her plate into the trash and proceeded to delicately clean and store her plate. He seems like a sensible enough fellow, surely he wouldn’t be upset as my more than reasonable suspicions Lazuel reasoned with herself.
She headed out the door and began walking up the steps to their rooms, but no matter how much she assured herself this was a simple, safe, and necessary thing, she couldn't shake this uneasy feeling in the depths of her stomach. But what if I’m wrong? She thought, what if he doesn’t tell me, or if he doesn’t know what I’m talking about and just thinks I’m crazy, what if he… Lazuel stopped in her tracks, no, that is enough, I can’t keep thinking like that. It's not fair to Nephadius, and it’s not fair to me She thought angrily to herself. This whole thing, it’s just fear talking, just pure paranoia. She reflected as she walked to the top of the steps and all of a sudden found herself standing in front of Nephadius’s door. Then why, Lazuel wondered, her hand hovering just above the door handle, did this awful feeling about him refuse to fade?
After only a moment of hesitation more, a noise from within the room interrupted her catatonic worrying. A melodic sound floated from just under the door. Is he, humming? Lazuel mused. She pressed her ear up against the door. Inside Nephadius seemed to be humming as he moved about the room, she could hear the sound of rustling papers and the scratching of a quill with fresh ink. Oh great, now I’m spying on him, Lazuel thought angrily to herself now who’s the creep. After backing a step back from the door and once again gathering herself Lazuel came to a decision. I will just knock on the door and to see if he is up for a chat she decided as she raised her fist once more to knock on the old oak door.
And if anything happens to come up about the strangeness in the keep then so be it she told herself as she wrapped three times on the door and a most standard knock.
Mere moments later Nephadius’s voice responded warmly, “Ah, do come in dear! The door is unlocked.” The doors' rusted hinges creaked under the strain of being put into motion, and the wooden door groaned in the effort, both acting as if they hadn't been opened in a hundred years. Upon entering, before Lazuel could even get a good look around the room, Nephadius was standing before her.
“Ah! Good to see you, my dear!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms wide, as if ready to embrace her.
“You had us all quite worried, you know. When you failed to appear for lunch, several of our little band debated setting out in search of you.” His tone was playful, yet carried an almost scolding lilt. To her own surprise, Lazuel found herself accepting the hug.
“And we very well might have,” he continued, “had Torrum not assured us you were merely being thorough. ‘Trust a scout to do what a scout does best,’ he said.” Lazuel smiled, warmed by the sentiment. Well, at least that dwarf trusts me. Then again, maybe he was just looking for a way out of a tedious search… Regardless, she chose to believe the former.
“Ah, well, I’m glad Torrum had the mind to keep everyone calm,” she replied. “It would have been a waste to go looking for a scout who simply got a little preoccupied.”
“Indeed,” Nephadius said, before smoothly pivoting. “And might I ask, what did you find? Anything of interest?” Lazuel thought back to her short, no so short, venture beyond the fort. Back to her slow traversal of the snowy mountain landscape, the beautiful view beyond the mountain range, and her sighting of the deer.
“Not much luckily, I didn't see anything that moved really, other than the deer that is.” She spoke after her moment of consideration.
Nephadius gave a slight nod, then raised a brow. “A deer, you say? And how far up the mountain was this creature?” His curiosity, though calmly posed, unsettled her.
“About a quarter of a mile from here,” she answered. “Why?”
“Oh, it’s nothing much,” he mused, tone as smooth as ever. “They simply don’t tend to venture that far up. But I suppose it may have been seeking preferable grazing grounds… or heading over the pass.”
Though his words were measured, Lazuel couldn’t shake the sense that even he did not quite believe them.
“But enough of this business talk,” Nephadius declared, swiftly redirecting the conversation.
“Why don’t you sit while I fetch you something to drink?”He guided her to a chair by his desk, setting a small selection of ornate tea boxes before her. Their exteriors bore gilded embellishments—one with a bronze maple leaf, another with a silvered dragon, a third adorned with a ruby rose. But it was the last that caught her attention: a simple, five-petaled golden flower, painted plainly upon the bag. The aroma wafting from its top told her two things—it was a safe choice, and it was Nephadius’s favorite.As she considered, he returned, bearing a plate of still-steaming brown bread, its surface glistening with a fresh coat of melted butter.
“Have you chosen, my dear?” he inquired as he set the plate down.
“I think I’d like the one with the golden flower,” Lazuel decided. She looked up in time to catch the faintest flicker of approval cross Nephadius’s face before he schooled his expression.
“It is quite alright indeed!” he declared, his enthusiasm betraying his usual composed demeanor. With a swift efficiency, he cleared away the other pouches and strode to the kettle, setting the water to boil. Left alone, Lazuel finally allowed her eyes to roam the room. It was… plain. Dusty. Old.
Portraits lined the walls, their surfaces clouded with age, their wooden frames weakened by years of neglect. His bed, though neatly made, was of cheap, rusting metal. His desk was a mess of books and scattered papers, a drawer left slightly ajar revealing ink pots and quills. A bowl of grapes, half-forgotten, sat near the edge. But what truly gave her pause was the sight at the foot of his bed—bottles. Dozens of them. Empty, discarded, a quiet testament to indulgence she would have only expected from Torrum.
She was so absorbed in the discovery that she failed to notice Nephadius’s silent return.
“Is something the matter my dear?” Nephadius interjected quizzically. Lazuel nearly jumped out of her chair in fright, having just been pulled from the deepest recess of her mind while she was taking in all this new information.
“You look as if you had just seen a ghost my dear.” Nephadius informed her with a worried look spreading across his face. He set before her a tea cup steaming with a golden liquid. The cup itself was made from porcelain with a faded blue and green pattern of bones covered in flowers circling the cup, which also seemed to shine with a slight glaze. Shaking her head to clear this fog and work back to her senses, Lazuel delicately picked up the cup and took a sip. She closed her eyes in delight at the floral flavors as they overwhelmed her senses. It reminded her of the honeysuckles from her home back in Winterdeep with a peachy apricot aftertaste that seemed to have a hint of creaminess to it.
“Good, is it not?” Nephadius inquired, watching her reaction with interest.
“Very much so,” she admitted. “I’d even say it’s the best tea I’ve ever had.”
He chuckled, evidently pleased. “Ha! Well, I am most delighted you think so. This particular blend is my favorite, you see—so much so that I ensured I brought plenty.” He took a contemplative sip before continuing.
“And should you ever find yourself yearning for another cup, know that I would be most happy to share a pot with you.”
Lazuel inclined her head in gratitude, taking another sip. Perhaps I misjudged him, she mused. He may have a way of seeing more than the rest of us, but there seems no malice in it. She glanced up as he took a slice of banana bread. And if we’re to be stuck here for a time, I might as well make friends with everyone, right? She smiled, reaching for a slice of her own. And there will be time enough later to ask about that peculiar sense of his. It would be rude to assume, after all. The conversation drifted from one topic to another, flowing as if between old friends. Minutes stretched into something longer, until at last, the pot ran dry.
“Oh dear,” Nephadius lamented, eyeing the empty teapot. “We appear to have run dry, I’m afraid. What say you to another cup, my dear?”
Lazuel did not hesitate. “I’d love one.” With a pleased smile, he took up the kettle and swept off to the kitchen. Perhaps this trip won’t be so bad after all, she thought, warmth settling in her chest. If nothing else, there is at least good company to look forward to. She let her gaze wander once more, now viewing the room with softer eyes. And yet, her attention snagged on something atop his desk—something that stirred a faint unease in her. But before she could give it further thought, Nephadius returned, fresh tea in hand.
“Anything the matter, my dear?” he asked, settling into his seat.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Lazuel said, shaking the thought away. “Now, you were saying something about the lords of Salem?” And so the conversation carried on, merrily drifting away from the thought of the thoroughly rotting bowl of grapes.
