An Unlikely Bride 8

Another stop and another evening to spend with his wife, the northerner even found that he could tolerate the kobolds without ill thought for hours on end. Socializing with them was not on his agenda, however. Sitting on a makeshift bench he just paid all the attention he could to his wife as she sat between his legs and chatted with her kin, meanwhile Kix sat off to the side and watched him with deep interest. There was something odd about that girl.

"Husband?" Anza murmured, looking up at him finally.

"Yes, wife?"

"Husband want sleep now?" she asked.

He gauged her question as he looked at her, but saw nothing that told him she was being suggestive. On that front he was somewhat wore out, their earlier session had left thoughts of eggs and children in his head for hours and hours. A part of him suspected magic, but he saw nothing to suggest that she could or did use it. No, it was just feminine tricks in his head at work.

"Do you?" he finally asked. "I am fine."

Sighing she laid against his chest and looked off into the dark. "No."

"Then let's not go to bed."

"Have to!" she retorted, struggling against him for comfort. "Not want."

Drond laughed and said, "Anza think we go to town."

That made sense, they were close and it would be an opportunity they couldn't pass up. They weren't near a larger city with less restrictions, so it would be likely that the inns and taverns wouldn't want to tolerate the presence of kobolds no matter who they were married to or where they came from.

"This is an opportunity I think you should not hope for," Thonvar cautioned.

"Anza go."

Obviously she wasn't having it, she was acting like a stubborn highborn. "Remember, these easterners do not respect me or know me. I would not be so convinced you will be welcomed past the gates."

"Anza not need welcome," she replied dismissively, rising up to take his hand. "Come, husband."

Sighing as she led him away, he made a mock show of how inconvenienced he was as he stripped off his clothes and climbed under the furs. Dismissing his performance, Anza rolled her eyes and went back to preparing their things for the evening ahead. She seemed distracted, especially after talk of their route filtered back through the train. Their road would be as originally planned and nobody could deter them from that, earlier during his exile she had brought his map up to the front and tried to persuade the elves and her father to go another way. Seeing his map again made her sigh and hesitate, he wanted to comfort her.

Leaning over he grabbed the base of her tail and tried to pull her down, but she wiggled away and kept packing.

"Come to bed," he implored.

"Husband, no," she muttered, waving behind her at the invisible suggestion, "why this?"

He looked at the pouch of magic vials she held up. "I was going to ask Khedze if she had any vials like that."

Turning back to her task, Anza asked, "why Khedze?"

"I learned she knows of alchemy, perhaps if--"

"Did husband talk Anza?"

"No, why? Was I supposed to?" he laughed, flopping back down. "I am cold, I need a wife to warm me."

"Husband want Anza under tail," she corrected.

Perhaps, but not at the moment. Either way she was almost done with her fretting and he resigned himself to watching her finally settle in, but she ignored his gaze as she undid her patched-over clothes. Not that it mattered, she only had one layer when her fur coat was off and removing the clothes left her naked to him. Sighing she looked him over finally and sat down on her knees, looking somewhat like she did when they were on the Lawstone together.

"How does husband want?"

Abandoning his position he reached out and grabbed around her waist, pulling her down. "Husband wants his wife close," he murmured, settling her down next to him. "Tell me what bothers you."

"Feel sad," she admitted, snuggling into him as he covered them, "husband help."

"I was remembering the first time I saw you, when you opened your robe," he chuckled.

She sighed.

"To think I did not appreciate these," his hand went to her hips, "I was a fool. Or perhaps you trick me into wanting more, I don't know."

"Anza good trick," she giggled, finally smiling. "Husband easy trick, not smart."

"Not even a little bit," he conceded, kissing the top of her head. "Even if I did not like you this way, you are... You are good for me."

Something was off with her, she took his hand and kissed it gently and didn't offer her usual commentary. Even with a limited vocabulary, he knew she would have had something to say about the compliment. Maybe it wasn't meant to be? At least she could sleep in his arms, and in the morning she would wake up fresh and ready to go! Hopefully he would be able to take her into town, but if not, he devised a plan to get her to tell him what to buy and he would venture out and get it. Not ideal, but he wouldn't let her feel defeated so easily.

"This was wise to come to bed, sleep will be good for us."

"Yes, husband," she mumbled, nuzzling his arm. "Anza like."

He closed his eyes and relaxed, trying to let himself slip off to sleep.

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A light snow fell over Ivar's Keep, it was always a time of fearful tenseness for the residents as they knew without a doubt that winter was finally upon them. No more harvests, no more last bursts of warmth, no more mornings spent without time to think or time to worry. Wind was silent that morning, Thonvar slipped out of bed and went outside to hear the snow's tiny orchestra of fresh flakes crashing so softly all across the hold.

There was nothing there for him, he went and got properly dressed before heading down to enjoy a morning meal.

Yet nobody spoke to him, he remained a ghost as he always did, the curiosity his father sired that was only meant to be seen and never heard. Guards paid him no attention, they never did, they were on the lookout for a great wyvern that had foolishly forgotten why it's race never soared over the steppes. Others had their eyes to the sky while they did their morning chores, all across the ramparts and balconies were pots of arrows of all kinds. Some had the mark of the mages staying at the keep, they were special, everyone knew not to even touch them. Likely poisoned, he imagined, dipped in venom specifically made to kill giant, magical beasts.

After his meal he went outside, there was nobody there. Then he saw Hroki, playing in the sand.

"Will you come outside the wall with me?" Thonvar asked.

"We are not allowed, your father will yell at us."

That was true, Thonvar thought. "Can we play swords?"

His friend looked up. His eyes were balls of ants.

Thonvar tried to scream, but his mouth was full of bees.

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He woke up with a gasp, choking on the saliva that went where it wasn't allowed.

Anza stirred at first from the commotion, but eventually his coughing woke her up and she rubbed her tired eyes. Morning hadn't fully come yet and he wanted to go back to sleep, but he knew after blinking his eyes it wasn't going to happen. Today was his wife's day, so it was probably best that he get up anyway since he had a lot to do. Slipping his arm around her, he rubbed her belly and kissed the back of her neck before exiting the covers and crawling out into the cold.

"Thonvar..." she murmured, turning over to where he was. "Anza want husband go bed."

He kissed her once more, that time on the lips. "Go back to sleep, you will have food when you wake."

"Yes, husband," she sighed, snuggling into the warm spot where he was.

Good. That was exactly what he needed, but for good measure he leaned down and let her nuzzle into his neck the way she liked. They seemed to do that a lot and it really worked with the difference in size between the couple, one of those little gestures of affection he had come to cherish. Leaving her was hard, he smiled as he watched his wife drift off back into the dream that made her feet kick with delight, under the furs he felt more of the movement. Well, nothing would ever get done if everyone stared at the beauty in the world, so on went his leggings and tunic and out of the wagon he went.

His bow came with, along with a handful of tolerable arrows she managed to scrounge up during their time apart. One had been repaired by her hand, probably spent hunched over a pile of junk as she found just the right scrap of thread to do the job. He sniffed the feathers, the scent of hide glue filled his senses, the wagon had a dry pot of the stuff for repairs.

Smart kobold, he thought, walking off into the dim forest with appreciation for his little wife.

An arrow knocked and ready put him at ease, offsetting the fact that his gilded sword was clumsily strapped around his back where it would be difficult to withdraw without some considerable effort. A man had cut the back of his head wide open once, it was the first time Thonvar had seen blood, he was drunkenly showing off his "technique" before his ill-fated trip to the whitemage. That wouldn't happen to the northman in the strange woods, he was aware, vigilant, ready; if the night or forest decided to attack he would be careful. After all, he had a wife to come back to, and he couldn't come back empty-handed.

Boar often lingered near settlements if the locals threw out their vegetables for compost, in the acidic soil of the pines it was almost a necessity for farmers and gardeners. Rangvaal had more alchemists and magic-users than the Reach, the hungry swine would be excited to get into their patches of mushrooms and herbs!

Fortunately he didn't have to walk long before he found a rut trail, the dirt disturbed here and there as the pigs munched on whatever they could.

Following it was easy, they made no attempt at stealth since they were such ferocious beasts if cornered and would run if a big predator came by. They were a very rare sight out in the steppes, but he had seen them and he knew how to hunt them. Locals might have considered them a nuisance since they were so prolific in their destructive habits, so hunting one might not have been so offensive for the local leadership. Who was that again? It had been so long since he had kept up with the goings-on in the forests, he simply didn't know anymore.

Not that he cared, they were dirty, greedy, and distrustful people. Poaching might have been dishonorable under some circumstances, he would never kill an elk or a deer if it wasn't necessary, but easterners hoarded their things and he did not recognize their right to all that nature had to offer. As he walked he imagined he wasn't the only one to stalk these particular pigs, the local farmers and woodsmen likely made a meal of them whenever they strayed too close! Good thing too, while it would make for a harder hunt he wouldn't need to worry about being picked on by the whole herd. Wild swine could kill a man easy if they felt they could, he didn't want to give them any ideas.

A grunting ahead made his spine tingle with excitement.

They were definitely close, no telling how far away he was from camp, but he was confident if he was careful that they wouldn't put up much of a fight and waste his finite stamina.

Peeking over the ridge he narrowed his eyes. One, two, three, four five... eight, nine... No piglets, a good sign, the fat sow on the left was probably ripe with the little monsters he guessed. Was it that season? Or earlier? It had been so long... He saw an old boar standing there and his swollen testes confirmed it was that time, it also marked him for death. Mating season meant the danger was magnified, he couldn't rely on the terror swine had for armed men to keep himself safe.

Almost sixteen yards away by his eye's count, and the boar was sniffing at the air as it lazily waddled around. Then it turned, it's hips jiggled as the feet stamped from some sort of annoyance. Boar hearts were deep in the chest and behind rib and leg, the best way to make a swift kill was to shoot from behind and to the side, and the old patriarch sealed his own fate as he stood in that exact way. Thonvar sighed softly, it was time.

With a readied back he made his draw and buried his fingers into his cheek, eye on the arrow's head as he controlled his breathing to steady his peaked excitement. Now was not the time to miss. His body grew still as his heart slowed, he felt himself grow loose wherever it was not necessary for a muscle to be taut and ready for the kill. His arrow had been the best he could find, mended by the careful claws of his wife, he let his heart open...

Wind guide me.

He barely felt his fingers let go of the string, it whistled into a musical strum radiated by the strong wood of the bow. His arrow was a whisper as it cut through the air, a brief moment in time frozen as his eye caught sight of it's brilliant blue feathers, one tipped in white, spinning round and round until he could see it no more.

With a soft pop the hide was pierced, his prey kicked hard and wheezed a squeal of alarm to his endangered harem that he fought so hard to claim. Run! They squealed in fear and scattered as he thrashed and kicked, but the arrow had already claimed his life. There was nothing more by the time Thonvar got to the vanquished swine, it was dead by his hand. A hearty meal for his wife and her kin plucked from the forest, he would need to hurry if he was to get back in time!

His bow around his body, Thonvar first placed a wrap of leather across the back of his head before he carefully heaved the gigantic carcass up and over his shoulders. Not many men could lift their own weight and half again like that, but he was not normal men, it just took a knowledge of his own body and steady movements across the open forest floor. Any spot to trip or stumble was avoided, turning was kept to a minimum and he walked with easy wobbles until his back and knees burned for relief. A clever man would have stopped, but all Thonvar did was lean against a tree for a bit of comfort.

Then he was off again, wandering and resting, all the while the sun's light remained off his left shoulder until he found the glorious road. He apparently hadn't been that far from it, just further east than he might have liked, but a smooth road meant easy travels.

He needed easy in that moment, his kill was beginning to feel like a mountain's burden on his abused frame.

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Huffing and sweating, he heaved the corpse down right next to the kitchen wagon.

After a few seconds a tired face popped out and looked at him. He stared back. Then she looked down at the slain beast and her eyes grew wide.

"Tell me what you need to fix it."

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She had let him use a spare basin to scrub himself clean, he desperately needed it too, but the leather wrap had protected him from the stink of his prey. While there he had retrieved his clean laundry from the washmaid's wagon, a necessary trade since the preparation of the boar had left him soaked in blood! At least she looked away while he changed, the cook was working hard on her new project armed with the superweapons of salt and a basket of the finest herbs Khezde could dry. Normally they were powdered... Or at least that's what he remembered, but the cook mashed them up with her trusty pair of rocks and threw the mess bare-handed on the meat.

Vegetables were cooked as well, forest roots and mushrooms picked days earlier also on the menu, the skilled kobold worked with the same care and devotion that he saw in the keep's kitchen. Perhaps some day in the future he might be able to arrange a journey back, hopefully the little cook would want to come with. Who knew what she could do with a real oven?

Cast iron pots, pans, and a large griddle over a hastily-built fire lined with local rocks were her tools and she used them well. Some of the pork had been made in an oily sauce, it was as tough as steak still and she beat the devils out of it to make it into a mush. Then she made a quickbread, the dough folded over and loaded with the pummeled meat, packed with another sauce and stuffed with greens. Covered and set aside, he guessed they would be rolls of some kind for the camp to enjoy.

She was not done! When her adolescent assistant woke, barely as tall as Thonvar's hip, the flurry of pans and bowls escalated. He had to stand back, he was just in the way.

Needles gathered from the pines were sliced by an old knife, thrown into a boiling concoction that the cook frequently sampled. Salt? Yes, more salt. Herb? Needs a bit of the green and the orange, he recognized wintergreen and perhaps anise. Spice? Of course, his nose protested when the wind lifted some for his sampling. This would be the drink with the morning meal, he guessed. A tonic to keep the kobolds hale and hearty, he was honored with a sampling after she graced it with a swirl of clover honey.

"It is good," he declared.

She said nothing, only nodding as she stirred. Work was to be done and she was but a small cook, but her russet, brown-speckled scales were pulled over burly muscle packed on by countless hours spent battling food and drink into an edible state.

Another taste, this time with an expectant scowl.

"I think the meat is quite good," he answered. Some vegetable broth. "This is good too."

Was she cleaning out the pantry? So much food! As if on cue she answered him by having her assistant take the still-boiling pot away, apparently that would be for later. Clever! So that's how she prepared the meals so quickly, he remembered the days of light breakfasts and light suppers never happened together.

He sat and watched the food boil, sizzle, and simmer for a long time, he lost track of time as he watched her work. His services were not needed until her assistant stopped adding fuel to the fire, then it was time to taste the main course. That bread was a big part of it, made without egg or milk, fighting for the spot of center as she slopped some pork in sauce next to the bun. Some potatoes were there, whipped with oil as she often did, topped with an extra helping of butter that he recognized as a big thanks for his hard work.

He bit into the roll, his smile was met with hers as she folded the muscled trunks of her arms.

"How did you cook this so fast?" he murmured. "There isn't enough for the whole camp, what--"

She chuckled and slopped some more plates over his protests. They received a little less love than his, but each one came with a roll and went on a large platter. Yes, he understood her intentions. There were more rolls there, probably there to be passed out to her other favorites among the camp, along with helpings of butter and gravy. One plate received a lot of the stuff and she pointed at it while grunting, "Drond."

"I understand," he said, as if making a pact of honor, "that one is for Drond."

She grinned, he nodded out of respect as he stood up. Adding his plate to the trays and grabbing some wooden spoons, he carefully lifted it all and waddled over to his wagon without daring to upset a single crumb.

All in all, a good start to a good day; he hoped the luck would hold.

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She wasn't even dressed by the time he ambushed her, his big arms around the kobold's small frame to keep her from wiggling free. Helpless, and not really interested in escaping anyway, she allowed herself to be fed morsel after morsel by her doting husband. No talking. Talking was not allowed, any mouth that mumbled anything was stuffed with delicious treats. They played a game with it, she eventually wiggled to face him and shoveled spoonful after spoonful of delicious buttered potatoes to smother the laughter. He made her quiet with pork steak, then some rib, she paid extra effort to suckle his fingers clean with a racy look in her eyes.

Eventually the fun came to an end, they had run out of food and they were happily stuffed anyway! Too bad he had forgotten the tea, Khezde dropped that off with a sour look at him. Anza giggled, she obviously didn't mind his forgetfulness, and he didn't have to explain where the fresh meat came from either.

Her long, sensual kiss made sure he knew how thankful she was, he could taste her meal as she made their tongues dance together with a sing-song happy sigh.

Except he needed to breathe after awhile, she didn't extract her tongue until he gave it a playful suckle.

"Stop!" she laughed, lapping at his lips. "Husband very want Anza."

"Husband does," he admitted, flicking off the covers to swat her exposed backside, "but we do have to go into town today."

Her eyes widened. "Anza not think--"

"My wife wants to go shopping, so it shall be done."

Anza sighed and looked over her shoulder and down, making a point to wiggle under his grip. "Anza like..."

"Oh you do?" he chuckled, getting two full handfuls, "so do I, if you had not noticed."

She giggled and nodded.

"If I had known this was out there, I might have traveled to the mountains to get it. How can a man resist?"

A single claw touched her chin and she pretended to think, but then she shook her head. No, no man could resist wide hips, full buttocks, and a plump tail to tie it all together; not if he was sane. Who knew they came like that? Even better was how soft she was... He had to massage her in his grip one more time, stroking the smooth hide that gave way to alluring and irresistible feminine flesh. Moaning softly she closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, letting him play with his favorite part of her.

Before he could decide to act on his growing need, the curtain whisked open as somebody passed and he realized prying eyes could easily access her nude form. She was his, he didn't want to share his privileged access to her figure, so he sighed away the excitement and grabbed a fistful of clothes.

"You should get dressed."

Frustrated she rolled her eyes and smirked, taking the tunic from him. Oh she'd make sure he had a show, gingerly walking away on her knees with a raised tail, her legs spread wide, leaning forward so he saw both of the warm places he was missing. A shudder came over him and he forced himself to keep looking, she took her time before rolling on her back and repeating the process as she slipped her toes into her leggings.

"Are you trying to make me change my mind, or just getting me excited for later?"

"Later," she hummed, wiggling her hips into the leather and cloth. "Anza make husband think for day."

"Yes, because you have to spend my money," he teased.

"Our money, husband," Anza corrected, rolling over to fit the buckle and strap over the top of her tail.

"Does this mean that what was yours is mine now?" he asked.

An enthusiastic nod confirmed their arrangement, but she had to giggle shortly afterward. Something told him that he wouldn't like what she had or have interest in it, maybe he was getting the short end of the bargain? She would never tell, her toes into the leather "shoes" that she enjoyed wearing gave her all the excuse she need to hop out of the wagon and out of sight. Sighing he grabbed their things and slipped out feet-first, it would be fun to see what the kobold would want at the market.

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Munvangr was an old town that had been built right out of a long hill, some of the ancient stones still littered the area and provided the foundation for the newer wall. No part of it was really much of a wall aside from the crown, not in the traditional sense, a fee of one silver to enter the town let them see that the other side was just dirt. They had to walk up a stone-paved slope that spilled out into a wider street lined with raised sidewalks of stone and wood, stairs led up to the buildings flanking both sides. Anza was sufficiently impressed, but not in awe of what Men could do.

A look of highborn scrutiny colored her expression, she was appraising her surroundings and judging worth.

"I believe that is the market ahead," he announced, pointing to the commotion. "Will you lead?"

"Yes, husband," she said with confidence.

He was lead by the hand up to the market area, over a hundred people were there browsing the open stalls and storefronts hidden in stone-arched recesses in a wall. From what he could tell the street looped around and up to a second level, likely where the wealthier people resided and where the larger institutions were. Taverns were on their level though, one dominating a corner where people sat under the jettied upper level. Surprisingly there weren't so many blond-haired folk around, he furrowed his brow and wondered why.

"Potions! Guild potions here!" a voice called.

He looked up.

A fat, square tower jutted up from down the street to his right and loomed over a carved shop window that almost resembled a bar. Immediately he could tell the buildings were one in the same, part of a larger complex, and a sign detailing potions and herbs hung overhead.

"... can't even begin to describe it, tall towers, beautiful ironwork, they know what they're doing ..."
"... graced the top of it, just a bit, I thought we were done for sure!" "Aye, the boy can't cast for shyte."
"... how can you say that, movement of the oceans are imperative to ..."

Apparently he had not been paying attention, there were a lot more people there than he thought... Catching sight of the sign and hearing the conversations of foreigners meant the town was host to guilds, obviously the couple wasn't so unwelcome within the gates. Still, he was kicking himself for paying a silver instead of the handful of coppers that he suspected the price should have been. No way to get it back, the deed was done. Anza led him through the crowd and past some chatting elves, evidently she had decided to look at the trinkets offered at a general good stall.

Behind the counter was a dark-skinned human. She didn't look too happy.

"I don't know what my wife is looking for," he blurted out.

Raising her eyebrows in mild surprise she glanced down at the kobold and back up at him. "Here I thought I'd seen everything, a kobold and a human. Usually they want to see the jewelry, should I--"

"Yes! Anza like!" she exclaimed, perking up to see. "Show Anza!"

"Well jewelry it is," the shopkeeper muttered.

A small display was opened up and folded out, necklaces and rings of all kinds were displayed along with their prices scrawled in small bits of parchment. Immediately the kobold's eyes lit up, she let go of his hand to paw at all of it before selecting a diamond-shaped amulet of silver. There were little pink gemstones on either side of a large ruby, it looked very expensive.

It was. Twenty five whole gold, enough to cast a copy of the thing and the chain to go with!

Before he could protest she yanked him down and stuffed it over the top of his head, stepping back to appraise his new look. Evidently satisfied, she clawed into the pouch looming just above his groin and extracted the golds before dropping off an amulet of her own that she produced out of thin air. He recognized it, a copper one with a little blue stone in the center, something a dead bandit had that she claimed as her own share.

"... travel all over the place, I swear he's ..."
"Gaww, the damned thing's all wrong, I ain't payin' for it!"
"... blood's fevered, I just don't know what to do ..."
"... hunting's good, but a real sport's ..."

He refocused on the situation in front of him. Reluctantly the shopkeeper agreed to that, three simple silver rings, a copper ring with a gemstone, and fifteen gold pieces for his new bit of jewelry. More than he would have liked, but she seemed quite satisfied with the purchase.

"Thank you," he muttered, letting himself get pulled away. "Anza, why did you buy this?"

"Husband pretty," she declared with a giddy bounce. "Husband want?"

She was pointing at a stall full of archery-related supplies. That could get very expensive, much more so than simple jewelry, but he had little say in the matter as she dragged him right up to the counter. Everything was extremely expensive, but the elf behind the display smiled warmly at them.

"Well, what have we here?" he asked, leaning against the roof post. "Two adventurers out to browse the wares? Sellswords?"

"My wife is spending all of my money, actually."

Again, surprise was the look he got, but the elf chuckled and looked down at her. "We don't have many kobolds in Viluun."

"Your homeland?" he asked, ignoring her tugging. "Until our marriage, I have never been out of the Reach."

"Yes, of course it's my homeland. Have you never heard?" he asked with a dubious expression. "Odd, our archers are world-renowned... Bitter rivals of the other kingdom, Raniilos, of course, but trust me when I say we are the better skilled."

Curiosity got the better of him. "Why?"

"Why, we use our ancestral bows as they were intended," he exclaimed, motioning to a short, sharply-curved weapon. "You would be familiar with it, lends quite well to your saddle-born style of combat! We produce some of the finest scout companies, even our western rivals employ us!"

"They use a different bow?"

"Yes, yes, insisting the longbow is the king of battle," the elf sighed, glancing over at a similarly-styled bow, but it's length was considerably longer. "Of course our cousins in Streydor prefer magic and deceit, but they still find time to employ us and make sure to enchant our weapons and arrows. To think, without us, they'd have to come begging the other mer for help."

"Dwarves?" he asked, unsure of what the elf meant.

Erupting into laughter, the elf clapped his hands and shouted, "Tauina's grace save me, the thought is too rich! Can you imagine? Or even better, dodging lava to beg an an ashy-skinned svunmer for his time, ho ho that's a good one!"

"They are the dark elves? I..." he trailed off and scratched his head. "I thought all elves were allies."

"Yes, now, but my dearest son of the Reach, would you trust a mer stranger?"

He frowned and blushed.

"We feel much the same way about," he rolled his eyes, "'Queen Viralyna' and her oh so very proud occupying army."

"Occupying army...?"

Some men passed by. "That's not how you do it, I promise you that!" "Hahaha! You're surely going to be in hot water after that!"

"Mm, you didn't hear this from me," he leaned forward, "but some say the war to the south was just a charade of their invention, concocted to force the remaining Espeans into a losing battle. She's occupied all the islands now, driven out the humans on Taromos by the thousands."

"What else do people say about the elves... Uh, those elves?"

"Rahmer, dear northman, and I'm sure you'll find plenty willing to comment on their misdeeds," the elf muttered, finally leaning back again. "Please, politics are interesting enough, but your adoring wife seems interested in the noble art of the bow."

Remembering her he looked down and saw her scowl, he winced sheepishly and let her show him some things while the elf looked on with obvious amusement. First it was the fine steel arrows, they were quite nice, he didn't like the price at all. Then came the rune-etched magical steel that carried a much more steeper price tag, but he still ran his thumb over the tip in appreciation. She hesitated and watched him, smiling with encouragement at his scrutiny. Did she want him to buy those?

"I will tell you in complete honesty that I personally bought those wholesale from the Master of the Skyfire Forges himself, ask anyone here!"

Thonvar sighed and nodded. "I bet when the lights were strong in the sky, we were married under their last day."

"Indeed, indeed! He worked all night on the fifth day, when the runes were struck he said this batch," the elf reached under the counter and laid a quiver down, "would be the best. For you, northman, since we've shared a good laugh I'll also say I have some javelin tips of the same batch."

"Javel-- Oh, throwing spears. Can I see those?"

A knowing grin flashed at Thonvar as the elf laid them out for viewing, their surface shone in the light and revealed to him it's hidden rainbow dancing across the dark steel. Simple runes etched across the surface had been filled with a resin he saw the keep's whitemage mixing once, it was almost as tough as the steel itself, but it's magical properties were said to be endless.

"Among my people, a hunter who chooses a fist of spears over the bow is either looking for a challenge or expecting to face terrible foes... Whatever your reasons, northman, I doubt I don't need to tell you these can kill bears, wolves, boars, and of course their were varieties, pierce the hides of wild troll, strike down maddened and malformed streghe and druids, and even the drakes, wyverns, and other draconic creatures."

"No, you don't, I have heard the legends..."

He neglected to mention his sword was edged with magical skyfired steel, backed by less-magical steel worked in the same flames. Gilding and silver inlay hid it's true power, it looked like another noble's blade that had little practical use and was a clever ruse. On the contrary, a master of swordsmanship would recognize it as one of the many styles of broadsword used by the northerners. Reachmen often preferred even-sided blades with symmetry, but since the Skyfire Forge was far to the north, where the magic was strongest, his blade was in their style. On one side it had a mostly flat edge, tapering to a point just over an arm's length away, but across it's thick width the geometry was quite different. Starting at the tip it flared out into a wider section, giving it a bit more weight toward the tip, but smoothed out quickly and sharply into a more straighter pattern with an ever so slight concave edge.

This was his most prized possession, it was said that the design was to give the qualities of an axe to a blade and make it more useful at sea. From a glance it would look like somebody had a slightly wider than normal blade and just moved a portion of the material near the hilt to the tip, just to give the end more momentum in a swing. Indeed, from horseback it was an incredible friend despite it being somewhat shorter than southern longswords; his only complaint was it's tendency to stick and refuse to budge. There was a lot to grab on to, the wide T-shaped hilt and grip ended in a dragon's head for a pommel and allowed for good leverage and two-handed grip.

When it struck it struck true, he preferred to slash and chop with it and used it's natural advantages.

"Is there a turner here?" he asked, gathering up the spear heads. "I have others I need fitted, none as good as these."

Anza laid out the coins, one after another, until they were short six gold and two silver. Pocketing the gold, the shopkeeper stood back and motioned down the street.

"Down there, the halfdwarf will take care of you. I'm Nauril, by the way, remember that name if anyone you know needs a good bow or strong arrows."

"Thonvar, son of Kargruuf," he replied, cautiously shaking the elf's hand, "this is my wife, Anza."

"Very pleased to meet you, my dear," he chuckled, taking her tiny digits up to his lips for a kiss. "When you wish to indulge your northman, please, remember that I am more than happy to oblige. And to chat! You've been a refreshing breath of life into my surely dreary day, Thonvar."

"Same to you, Nauril. Now I know there is at least one elf that I can tolerate."

Laughing heartily, the shopkeeper waved as they left before returning to his wares. Surprisingly they left with smiles, he knew how much his wife detested tricky elves and he wondered if she thought the mer was as charming as he did. From the way she cradled her hand, of course she did, but she leaned against him as they walked and reminded him that he had nothing to fear. Odd... jealousy was not often in his mind. No doubt it was more of her effect on him, he chuckled and slowly shook the foolishness out.

"... listen here you scaly son of a bitch, I won't have none of your damned swamp-addled nonsense in'ere! I won't be turnin' no damned-- Get that offa there!"

A hissing language followed shortly after, then profuse apologies with a heavy accent. Sighing he reluctantly took her around the corner to the sight of some tall lizard creatures standing there with wood in their hands, a furious dwarf-looking woman in an apron glared up at them. Turning slightly she threw up her hands when she saw them.

"Great! More scalebacks! Ancestors deep save me from this fuckin' mess I made meself when I opened this damned shop."

"We just want these round..." rumbled a lizard, holding out the log. "Can pay."

"Listen 'ere, you giant fuckin' crocodile shit. IT. IS. TOO. FUCKIN'. BIG."

A look of complete dejection fell over the mighty form of the lizard man, he slumped his shoulders and shook his head in defeat. Movement around his legs revealed he had a child with, roughly the same height as Anza, peering past the leather flap of the lizard's big tunic at the human and his companion.

"Why not take it to a carpenter?" Thonvar offered.

"Carpenter have hammer, not make round, is different," the lizard mumbled, motioning to the lathe. "Dwarf make round. Not want."

"Aye I'd love to take your gold and make your fuckin' log round as the damned full moon, but it's too fuckin' big for my fuckin' equipment," the halfdwarf declared with a raised, angered voice. "Carpenter will make it right as rain, now if you'll kindly FUCK OFF."

"Wait outside, I'll see to it," Thonvar commanded, shuffling aside to let them through. "Just out there."

A crooked smile was the reply, the big brute, his... her...? companion, and the lizard child all shuffled out as instructed. Odd. Shaking his head, Thonvar sighed and turned to the angry-looking shopkeeper. "Shafts for throwing spears, please. Can you also fit them?"

"Aye."

He produced the newly-purchased ones and the others he had from before. "How much?"

"These? Four silver for the lot, fix 'em up for you."

Anza held out the necessary coins, the halfdwarf took them without a word and got to work. Obviously it would take some time, so they stepped out into the light again where the lizard things were waiting. They seemed rather destitute, clad in tattered rags and leather pieces, in a way they looked like gigantic kobolds except without much care taken to their appearance. Somehow he was surprised by that, he had always thought kobolds looked like they got dressed in the dark with the exception of Anza. Perhaps some of the other ones, but his kobold definitely knew had an eye for detail and beauty.

He blushed when he thought of how she looked at him, he didn't often feel handsome before he met her. She had a way of making him confident of himself and sure of his path, even in the face of the unknown.

Which is exactly what he stared at.

"You help make round?" the lizard asked, passing the log to him.

It weighed too much, he fell to his knees. "Why is it so big? What are you trying to do?"

"Hole. Big hole with whispers. Put in hole, get paid many coppers, this many," it held out a full hand, all four digits and a thumb, "we eat good."

"Oh, and who is paying you to plug this hole?"

"Guild mans, pay many copper!"

A hole that whispered? What kind of foolishness was that? He didn't want to get involved, but he did agree to help, so leaving the log there he walked with Anza right to the carpenter's shop and looked around. An old man with streaks of gray in his pale, blond hair sat at a table drinking from a cup.

"Carpenter, can you turn a log?"

The old man blinked and looked up. "A log? How big?"

Almost on cue the lizards shuffled in, log in hand, the big one held it out with a hopeful grin.

"Oh, of course, give an old man a hand and it'll cost only eight copper. You might learn something too, learn the hard work you enjoy every, hmmhm..." he trailed off as he examined the piece. "It's not going to be pretty."

"Not need pretty, need round, this big," the lizard demonstrated, "make round?"

"Oh, yes, yes, come on then!"

Eight copper to round it off for five coppers pay, no wonder they were poor because they were complete morons. He sighed and shook his head as the lizard and old man worked, better them than him, but he still watched and took in the lesson. Much like at the turner's shop, the carpenter had a hefty spindle that the log was pierced with after he found the center, followed by the same process on the other side. That was the "tail" of the machine, while the bigger one was the "head" which made some sense in terminology. However the head had a trio of biting spears to go with that gripped the wood firm, it allowed the lizard to happily spin a big wheel connected to the spindle's shaft and in turn spin the log.

Suddenly it came all together, he knew the old man's job even before he got the twin-handled blade and started taking off the bark. An axe-bladed device was used here and there, placed in the path of knots and allowed to chop them off when they obstructed his work with the knife. Not long after the stubby log was cleaned and quite round, ready for use as a gigantic cork to plug whatever whispering hole was out there.

"There! Let's call it an even five coppers and we'll be done, I hardly did any work!"

Witnessing the lizard frown again made Thonvar sigh. "I'll pay. Five coppers."

Anza growled and tugged at his tunic, but he wasn't going to have any of it. Before she could make a scene he got the coppers out and put the coins in the old carpenter's hand, the lizards had already retrieved their precious log and were wandering away. Oh no, he was invested now, whichever mage was responsible for this mess would be paying him and them! He hated seeing the weak taken advantage of by liars and thieves, he felt honor-bound to fix this stupid nonsense.

That didn't mean he wasn't terrified to walk inside a guild hall.

Fortunately he did have his sword, the fee at the gate had covered that, and after a moment of apprehension he stepped inside. Smells hit his nose and bit with their spicy aroma, it reminded him of Sienna's fragrance that she had, carried by the breeze as the mage stormed around the keep. There were others there, things that told his brain to be afraid, but the assault on his senses just left him in somewhat of a daze. Lush carpeting went from wall to wall, a bright blue that almost glowed from the magical lanterns clinging to the fine wood paneling.

Paintings and artwork were scarce and when they were featured it was all about magical subjects, indeed it seemed like the best decoration the mages had were special artifacts of their trade. Staves and scrolls were displayed behind the clearest, cleanest glass he had ever seen, gems and strange stones shimmered with an invitation to come closer. There were wooden and iron masks that looked to him of being made from pure evil, a set of armor and a robe put over a mannequin that looked regal and magnificent.

An alchemist's lab was passed by, the door open to reveal the incredible array of potions and ingredients as the neatly-dressed figure worked. That must have been the source of the wonderful scent, or perhaps it was bowls of incense hidden here and there, he wasn't so sure as they walked by.

They went down the stairs. He followed.

Calling it a "change of atmosphere" was an understatement, the neatly-placed stones of the building's foundations and finely-detailed panels on the walls gave way to ancient stonework cut raw and harsh. They were in an old part of the town, back when it was the site of the first northerners perhaps, and he wondered how many yards of dirt and rock were above them as they kept walking down. And down. And down.

At the bottom was a very old door of wood, braced by thick iron fittings, the entire thing shimmered as lines of silver snaked across the surface and marked it as a magical barrier not to be crossed by the faint of heart. Before he could say anything about it they clumsily pushed open the door and went right inside.

His blood ran cold as he saw the thing they were trying to plug. It was a hole all right, one that went from this world to another. Some damned elf was standing next to it, he looked less than pleased.

"What took you so long you big idiots?! Do you know the forces at work here?"

"Do you?" Thonvar muttered with disgust in his voice. "Plug this abomination with wood? I am no mage, but even I recognize how mad that is."

"Of course you're not a mage you idiot! This wood is imbued with... bah! Shut up! You, put it in immediately!"

A happy bounce and a slight heave of effort from the giant's muscles made the plug slam down in the evil portal with great force. When the passage was blocked Thonvar suddenly realized he had been hearing voices echo off the walls the whole time, their absence left a strained silence only broken by grunting and the repeated sound of foot on wood. Unsatisfied with the results, the big lizard grabbed a loose stone and sent it crashing down on the plug. Then again, and again, until it was almost flush with the floor.

"Good. Now get out," the mage snapped.

With no sorcery to frighten him off, Thonvar stormed in while the mage was distracted and grabbed his collar. Still angry, he kept moving and slammed the elf hard against the stone wall with fire in his blue eyes.

"Pay for work, elf. You owe them more than five copper, and if needed I shall beat it out of your soft hide."

"Do you know who I am!?"

Thonvar yelled loudly and wound back, bringing his forehead right down on the elf's stupid face.

"Her holy grace!" the elf exclaimed, groaning in pain. "Please, please! No more! Damn you northmen, here!"

A sack of coins crashed to the floor behind him, so Thonvar let the injured elf down to tend to his hurt nose. He had to be quick about retrieving it, Anza was already making a beeline to increase their family funds! Snatching it up he glared at her, she had to stifle her giggle and wore a pretend scowl as he rifled through the little velvet pouch. No, he would not be robbing the elf, but he would see the lizards got a fair share for the danger. Five copper for him, three silvers for them, the rest was tossed right back.

"Don't do this again," he warned. "Everyone go, we're done here."

-------------------------------------------------

Reluctantly he left the "family" to do their own business and waited patiently near the tavern with his wife, they spent their time watching everyone else come and go. From what he gathered the town was a bit larger than the map seemed to imply, but it's tallest buildings still didn't crest over the top of the giant trees. At least they were far enough away for him to feel... He wasn't sure, perhaps less stressed, he had been deliberately blocking their presence out of his mind and refusing to look up.

For the first time in awhile he glanced up at the wild, blue sky and smiled.

She had noticed him and took his hand with a gentle squeeze, earning her a thankful kiss to the top of her little, stubby snout.

"Are we done shopping, wife?" he asked, mindful of how light his sack of gold had become. "You shower me in fine things, but we still have little in the way of clothes and comforts for our trip. Shouldn't we buy some soap? At least a bit of leather?"

After considering the suggestion she nodded. "Yes, husband. Anza like, smart."

"You should pick out the soap, decide how we shall smell."

"Clean?" she asked, giggling at the notion. "Yes, husband."

Of course they would smell clean, but he ignored her silly retort and put an arm around her as he sat back. Activity around the guild hall had increased, a procession of travelers in short robes and light armors of ornate design had arrived. Plenty were northerners, long braids and fair hair set them apart from the darker-haired southerners, and their pearly white skin definitely set them apart from the distant foreigners. Elves were there too, of course, a few with bluish-gray skin and sanguine manes, they were the more armored of the group. Yet the biggest curiosity was the beast-like races that he had never seen before, a pair of female cat women with matching white fur and vivid blue eyes milled near the back.

Then there were lizards, less imposing than the ones he had encountered and the female one of the three didn't hide her figure at all. They had longer necks, a thinner frame in general, and seemed almost elf-like in their graceful, fluid movements as they strolled across the market to the tavern behind an armored dwarf. Quite the interesting group, but he had no interest in sating his budding curiosity.

He had enough dealing with mages as it was.

Even so, he guessed it was around that time anyway and stood up. "I'm going to go get my spears, do you want--"

"Go, husband, Anza fine."

Keeping up with him was hard, her little legs had to work twice as hard to match his long stride and he just gave her an understanding kiss instead of commenting on her shortcomings. Inside her coat she had a little dagger, just in case, he felt it was okay to leave her for the short trip. What could go wrong?

Well he didn't think about it, he just hurried. Thankfully the halfdwarf was done and motioned to the tied bundle of weapons when he got there, but it was obvious that she wasn't going to pry herself away from her ale. For that he would take the sturdy twine with, if she protested then she'd have to come and get it! Of course she didn't, she didn't even remark on him coming or going, not even a thanks for choosing to do business!

He passed by a pair of men chatting and caught, "no, you don't understand, the wagons are gathered all around. Important folk, I tell you. Why else?"

Eavesdropping was always easy, but he chose not to involve himself more than making a mental note of the two men.

Rudeness was fine with him, his priorities were in results and the skilled turner did her job quite well. A large quiver would be needed to hold them if he wasn't going to be using a bow, bigger than the one he had and of a different design if it was to stay on his back. That would be a job for another time and probably one that could be done among the kobolds, if anything they had the skill to work leather well enough from what he saw. Perhaps even better than normal, they had gotten quite creative at using bits and pieces.

"... a special piece of meat, it's going to cost more ..."
"That's right, the thing just flew right over the top!" "Aye."
"... how's I'm supposed to get by, you there, tell me how I ..."
"Potions for sale! Get your potions!"

Loud, raucous shouting made him jump. He peeked around the stall at the source, scowling at the group of men gathered around... Anza? No, wait, that was a different kobold.

"... no, you've got to give me the whole one ..."

He almost ignored it, but a gust of the harsh wind made him look back at the right moment. They were trying to make the kobold swallow something, laughing and almost falling over themselves when it coughed and gagged.

"Aw, you've almost got it! Relax yer throat there an' we'll give 'er another go!"
"Let's see it! Got'sa nice bit for you if you do it!"
"I's know she can take it, she took it befor-- urp... Yep."

"... it's a special piece, you should pay ..."

A struggling wail caught Anza's attention at the same moment it did his own, she sprang off the bench and stormed over before he could get there. He didn't like that, but he wasn't fast enough to stop it. Into the crowd she went and out she came, dragging a sobbing street urchin behind and ignoring the loud noises of anger and disappointment from the human men. Had the scene been a bit different he would have found it amusing that the little kobold still clutched the hock of summer sausage in it's little hand. Were they trying to force that down it's throat?

There was a line, even when he thought kobolds were nothing but dumb savages he wouldn't of tolerated such dishonorable behavior. Drunks were pathetic, so he moved to intercept Anza before they got to her.

One grabbed her by her horn and yanked her back. "GOT ME ANOTHER ONE!"

They laughed as she snarled and fought against his grip, they almost didn't see him approach.

His wrathful glare bared down on the lazy-eyed drunk as he gripped the man's wrist and twisted. At first there was resistance as the man struggled, but Anza got free and he let go. That is where it should have ended. He was willing to end it there. He wanted to end it there.

It did not end there.

Winding back, the man took a heavy swing right for Thonvar that he easily dodged since he wasn't foolishly drunk while there was still light to work. A second swing put the reachman a few steps back, he saw Anza drag the whelp out of the way as he heard the market bustle die down. Tired of backing up and weary of how long the fight had gone on, he blocked the third swing and shoved the man back.

"That's enough!" he declared, pointing square at the man. "End it here!"

"Oh I'll end it it," the drunk growled as he drew a stubby halfsword, "draw!"

"There is no honor in killing a foolish drunk," Thonvar muttered. "Do not--"

"You got none," another snarled, spitting at the reachman, "we'll skin you 'fore we rape that kobold whore an' the runt."

Rage boiled his blood.

Everyone had given them plenty of space, the guards were on their way, he even exchanged a look of disappointment with one right before he looked back at the wild-eyed drunks. Most had backed off and joined the ring of people staying far away, but five men remained as they drew their weapons. Five on one... Worse odds had been fought and won, he slowly drew his own blade and tossed the bundle off to the side to give the sword two-handed attention.

By rights, this should have been an even duel, but easterners were often short on honor and self-respect. They charged at once.

In a flash he had taken his first swing at the lead man, the one who harmed his wife, he wore no armor so his sword bit deep and through the collar with a soft thump. Like a butcher's knife on a fresh cut. Raking back he stepped to the side and used the body as an obstacle, the second man went around the back and swung wide with his dagger.

Thonvar flexed hard and pushed on the hilt and pulled on the pommel, the man's head popped open with a loud crack.

A boot to his chest sent him reeling back with wide-eyed surprise, a downward strike to the right caught an out-stretched arm as Thonvar twisted clumsily.

The owner screamed and stumbled forward as the reachman's knee touched cobblestone, he joined the man on the ground as the other two clumsily stumbled over their comrade's oozing chest. One was run through as he wound back, but the sword stuck!

Twisting himself, Thonvar spun on his arched back and booted the fifth man square in the knee, making him stumble over the other and across the tip of his sword without injury. Another boot to another chest, Thonvar grunted and pulled before number five could recover. Finally the sword gave way, the man's chest suckling the steel loudly as it gave up the curved blade.

Rising to his feet, the redheaded warrior stood among the slain. "ENOUGH!"

"You BASTARD!" the fifth drunk wailed as he scrambled up.

He was set back down with a boot to the face, only then did the townsfolk intervene by holding the screaming drunk back.

"Do what you wish to these men," Thonvar muttered, glaring at the mages in particular, "I have defended my honor and my life fairly."

"He did! I saw him!"
"Did too, man's brave."
"Was honorable combat, they made the challenge."
"What of the kobold?"
"No, he defended it, I saw it."

Of course he did, but he put the mumbling of the crowd out of his mind. What a foolish group, and to think, all of it could have been avoided had they just let him and his wife be. Then again, it could have been avoided if his wife hadn't of brashly came to the aid of the whelp; that might have been handled differently. What was he going to do with them? Reason? No, it might have been inevitable that the battle happened. If not with him then with somebody far less--

A silver glinted in the light as a big, scaly hand was about to pass it over to a shopkeeper.

"Hold there!" he bellowed, storming right over to the stall. "What is this?!"

Going pale, the southerner stared at the northerner with wide eyes and a single head of cabbage in his hand.

"A silver for one cabbage?" he muttered, his voice dripping with malice and contempt. "Have you no honor?"

"T-There is no honor in killing an unarmed merchant!" he blubbered, dropping the cabbage as he stumbled back. "Please, I c-can give a better price, honest!"

"They'll take all your cabbage, and your greens, and your apple for that one silver. How many of these good people have you cheated? No more, not on this day."

"Y-yes sir," he whispered, rushing to do his task.

"Put the silver on the counter," Thonvar commanded. "Get your food, we're leaving."

Murmurs in the crowd sounded positive, but indistinct, he had stopped caring and just wanted to leave. Of course that wasn't one silver's worth of food, it was more like two, perhaps three, but the lizards gathered up half the stall's worth of produce and began to follow the northman. Guards had arrived by then, he shared a tense look with the sword still in his hand, but the nodded and let him gather up his spears. Some of the mages had rushed to the dying and gave them aid, but the fool that threatened to violate his precious wife laid there staring up in shock. He was dead, no healer could save a man with a head split nearly in two.

Pausing to look, Thonvar withdrew a silver of his own and flicked it at the man missing half an arm.

"See to your friend. He shouldn't have threatened my wife, you were all fools to have challenged my honor."

Before he could leave a mage, a white-haired elf wearing a scowl, called out, "you can't take my subjects! Those tribesmen and the kobold are mine!"

Thonvar turned slowly and narrowed his eyes.

The mage looked hopeful.

He scowled, he was not in the mood to indulge a knife-ear.

"Come and claim them if you wish."