Elle slowly walked through the halls of Stonereach, interested in exploring her new guest quarters, she found the whole place rather odd. So far up in the mountains. She had only ever lived on ground level. It was a curious building at that, with winding halls, stairs that went up and down, and occasional deadends and spiral staircases.

She wasn't eager to go around opening random doors, but she slowly grew frustrated with the winding chaos, and resolved to open the next door she saw, turning a corner. As luck would have it, it was a tall, tan door of sanded wood.

She opened the door, and found herself in a small study. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with newer novels, and ancient tomes alike. There were scrolls strewn about on a nearby table, and papers scattered on chairs. The floor was surprisingly clear of any papers, although it was hard to see in the dim lamplight.

Elle began to walk slowly around the room, her soft steps making little sound as she browsed the books on the shelf. She wondered how hard it would be to collect them, the trck up the mountain would be hard for a carriage carrying so many books, or maybe the collection had grown over time. The books adding one by one from the far off lands, she even spotted a few Odeshian authors. Most where of craftsmanship or about elephants, they where the most popular outside of Odesh after all.

"The halls are simple once you memorize them." A voice from the corner spoke, breaking the silence and causing Elle to jump. It was Reliwen Cragmore. She was no longer dressed in her regal gown, but a brown tunic and and green pants, tucked into black boots. Like a [i]boy[/i]. Her hair was tied into a loose ponytail, and to her side hung a sword. Her face was a bit reddened in the dim light, with beads of sweat clinging to strands of her hair.

"Full of shortcuts here and there, including the shortcut from our training grounds to the study." She slowly walked toward Elle, staring at her peculiarly, like a lion might stalk their prey. "If not for the shortcuts then what, pray tell, brings you here, Elle of Odesh?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Elle looked at the woman oddly, she had looked so elegant before, like a proper royal lady, but now, she looked much more like a fighter, a sword on her belt and a look in her eye that made it seem like she could kill a man with her stare alone. Elle liked this girl a lot better now.

"I got lost." Elle admitted "But if the end result has led me to a conversation with you, I would say that it has not been a fruitless journey" She smiled as her hand rested on the crossbow on her hip. The girl looked as if she would strike her down.

"Don't feel too ashamed that you were lost," Reliwen said, slowly smiling. "Originally, Stonereach was the main hall we ate in, connected to a long mineshaft. When it was emptied out, the halls and stairways were simply built into the mine itself." 

With a grunt, she sat into a chair, slouching back. "Only those familiar to it won't get lost."
She picked a book up off of the table, survied it for a moment, and dropped it back down to the table.

"So, what brings a pretty young lady like yourself into the company of Kenten and James?" She asked, leaning forward a bit.

"I was invited... Well, my father was invited... But he was busy." Elle dragged over a wooden chair and sat down infront of Reliwen. "Official diplomatic buisness," She continued "Not really my forte personally, I prefer the rush of lunging with a sword, or scoring a heart shot on a prancing deer." Elle smiled, "I am guessing that sword isn't just for show?" She teased looking to the blade.

Reliwen smiled, unsheathing her sword. It wasn't the usual shortsword that The Gullish so proudly paired with their shields, famous to their region, but a bastard sword. She admired it, holding it with one hand, and giving it a twirl. It was a silvery steel, with a black handle, and runes etched into the blade itself.

"I wouldn't say it's for show either, but I've never slain a man, if that's what you were asking. Stormgully sees few wars." She stood up, letting the sword shine in the lamplight. "Swordplay's mostly reserved for boys in Stormgully, and in the rest of Elyden, frankly. I suppose it's one of the few things I have to boast of, that I've a skill few other women possess." She smiled, turning to Elle. "And you too, it may seem."

"Well I wouldnt say I was a professional, but I know which end I'm supposed to thrust with." Elle said admiring the blade in front of her. "Odesh sees few wars as well, some would say we are lucky. I feel otherwise at times." Elle thought about the possible upcoming battles "Do you shoot crossbows in Stormgully?" Elle asked as she slipped her own from her belt.

The crossbow was small in size, crafted by the greatest crossbow maker in Amplefort. The mans signature "Sam Hill" engraved on the side. He wasn't an extravagant man, he barely even made crossbows anymore due to his age. But one could be ordered from him, if you had the money. The grip was made of ivory, one of the rarest comodities in Elyden, and the bolts were made to cause as much damage to a human as possible. Barbed and made to be painful and deadly to remove. 

"We don't have crossbows in Stormgully," Reliwen commented, examining the contraption. "It's the nicest one I've ever seen. The first, but certainly the nicest as well." She said, smiling warmly at Elle. "I like the way of the sword plenty, but there's certainly a lot to be said for marksmanship."

"You get stabbed a lot less." Elle joked as she holstered the weapon once again. "So, why a warrior? Why not a profound lady, possibly a Queen if you had the right connections?" Elle asked wondering why someone would choose a harder life than the easy wealthy path of luxury. 

Reliwen paused for a long moment, almost suspiciously so, before saying "There are events in life that meld you into what you need to be, and what I needed to be was a warrior."

She looked quite pleased with her answer, nodding to herself. "As it turns out, I'm good at being one, so it all worked out in the end. Still, I'm not completely immersed in fighting. I know my only ticket out of here is getting a husband, and since we Gullish aren't the prettiest choices, I've at least learned to sing."

She sheathed her sword, giggling to herself. "What about you, do you have any hobbies outside of marksmanship?"

"I read here and there" Elle responded, looking around the room "This is quite the study," She smiled. "I also make wooden carvings, usually of animals like birds." Elle thought back to how her father taught her how to carve wood, how to always cut away and keep a firm grip on the handle of the knife. He was a nice man, but Elle believes a ruler shouldnt be.

Reliwen nodded, and asked her more of her hobbies, and in turn, so did Elle. They spoke for the better part of two hours, and when they only stopped, it was because the lantern had burned the last of its wick. They wished each other a good evening in the end, and went off to their seperate quarters, satisfied that they had made a new friend.

-----

Stonereach's halls were kept warm by their fireplaces, candles, lanterns, and near endless supplies of pelts. If that was not enough, there were still rooms filled with teas and hot ciders, sure to warm anyone within their halls. It was one of the most pleasantly cozy places one could hope to find themselves in, and so, every resident and guest alike slept easily each night.

Every resident, but one. Reliwen Cragmore tossed and turned in her sleep, clutching her eyes tightly. The rain was calm and subsiding outside, but in her quarters, there was a storm. The same words she heard earlier now echoed in her mind, rattling around her nightmares.

"So, why a warrior?"

In her dreams, she was not the tall, singing swordswoman she was today. She was a young girl of ten, who could neither hold a sword or a note. She was holding a handful of flowers, as she had been nearly eight years ago, when she was still not but a child.

"Melvy, I got you some flowers." She said, skirting into her brother's room. Her hair was long, and pulled into a braid that nearly reached her ankles. Her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes still shone with the innocence of a child.

Melvan lay in his bed, sitting up against his pillows, with his blankets pulled up to his waist. He was pale and sickly looking, struggling to keep a glass of water to his lips. Placing the glass on his bedside table, he smiled weakly at Reliwen.

"Thank you, sister." He said, watching her fit them into a vase. She knew he was only rarely well enough to go outside, and occasionally brought him things from the outside world. Namely, flowers. They were light yellow, with slightly wilted leaves -- The type of bouqet a child would pick out, after all.

"How are you feeling today?" She asked, sitting at his side.

"Better everyday." He lied, coughing into his blanket. He knew she worried for him, and hoped to ease her fears.

"I'm happy, then." She crawled across the blanket, and kissed him on the cheek. She crawled over him, and plopped on to the floor. "You read anything ni-"
She stopped mid-sentence, hearing the loud footsteps thundering down the hallway. Immediately, almost instinctively, she ducked under the blankets with Melvan, curling up next to him.

"Don't worry sister. I'll keep you safe." Melvan said, somewhere between cooing and promising.

The thundering footsteps were that of Kenten Cragmore. He was younger, sporting a long moustache in lieu of the beard he had since grown. His face was cleaner, and his eyes fuller. But his face was certainly redder -- Much redder. He was completely red in the face, staggering down the hallways, occasionally pausing to adjust his balance. He was slobberingly drunk, bellowing his words out with a strong slur.

"Reliwen!" He shouted, looking around the hallways. "Reliwen, I saw you before. Bring yourself to me." His voice was somewhere between crying and roaring, in a deranged drunken sort of way. "Don't hide from me, little lamb." He begged out.

She stayed hidden underneath the barrier of blankets, protected by her jaundiced knight. She shook with fear, but did not whimper or cry. Melvan held her tightly, silently praying to his dear Kammeth.

There was a loud knock on the door, threatening to shake the very door off it's hinges. It went on for a long while, shaking the door violently. It continued, growing louder, and louder, and then, nothing.

The knocking had subsided for a moment. Even the silence was a welcomed peace, like the calm in the eye of the storm. The hairs that stood on the back of Melvan's neck slowly went down, and Reliwen slowly stopped shivering. Moments passed, and nearly a minute went by. And then, as the eye of a storm always does, the silence ended.

The door was thrown open, and Kenten stood in the doorway. He was a hulking brute of a man, holding an empty bottle of cider in one hand, and propping himself against the doorway with the other. He started at Melvan, and then the shivering bulge in the blankets next to him.

He silently stumbled over to the bed, and grabbed her by an exposed arm. He dragged her out, much to her protest, and slammed the door behind him. "You should know better," He paused, stopping himself from drunkenly vomiting, "Than to hide from me,"

He began to take her down the hallway, before pausing to catch his balance again. He knelt down to her level, looking at her face as she tried to look away, clenching her eyes.

"You look so much like your mother, little lamb."
He smiled sinisterly, dragging the back of his hand over her trembling face. "And you grow with each passing day." He stepped back to examine her, from top to bottom, practically staring through her.

"Come with me, little lamb. Let's find someplace else." He tightly grabbed her wrist, and began to pull her down the hall once more.

Before he could step even a foot, a soft voice raised up from behind him.

"Papa, stop this!" Melvan said, slowly walking down the hall. He had no limp, but his legs shook with every step, threatening to send him careening to the floor.

"Stop this now, please!" He urged, continuing to walk towards his drunken father.

"Melvan, you're too sick to be up. Get back to bed." Kenten grumbled, loosening his grip on Reliwen and extending his arm towards him. Reliwen took her opportunity, and broke free, tearing away from his grip and running down the halls with a scream.

Kenten was far too inebriated to respond quickly, and turned to watch her flee in terror. Slowly, he turned his head back to Melvan. His face was redder than before, and his teeth clenched in anger.

"You little sh-shit," He growled, stuttering with anger. "Think you can make a fool of me?" He hissed. Even as Melvan shook his head in fear and began to back up, his father took a single step back, and kicked at Melvan's leg.

It was no push -- Kenten was a large man, and had kicked with every last bit of strength in him. The boy's leg snapped backwards, in a hideous contortion, accompanied with a crack that echoed in the stoney halls.

Melvan did not scream. His eyes welled up with tears, and he opened his mouth to scream, but only a squeaking gargle emerged. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and the boy fainted, collapsing from the pain.

A few moments passed, with Kenten only seething in his anger. A guard, responding to Reliwen's scream, emerged from around a corner. "M'lord?" He said meekly, examining the scene before him.

"My son's infection has spread to his leg, send for a doctor." Kenten said in an almost-whispering tone. He lifted his head, and stared at the servant. "If the doctor, or anyone else hears otherwise, I'll have your head sent to your family."

"Yes, M'lord. Understood, M'lord." He said, silently nodding.