[center][h2]Housewarming Gifts[/h2][/center] Location: Nyhem to Claus’ temporary base Time: Afternoon, 1 week and 2 days after the party Collab with: [@Klomster] [hr] Nyhem was locked within the autumn season. The rain drizzled across the city’s scenery, bringing the cool winds and salty air inland. Leaves were tumbling from their throne branches to pile across the cobblestone streets only to be cleared by busy feet treading the worn down pathways. Among the crowds was a blue skin female, the half-elven Dyril, on her way to the city’s gates. Her shoes slicked along the hard surface as she avoided the sprouting puddles collecting in the path’s holes and muddy steps. It was times like this she found herself missing the Elven architecture in Beilokias where water flowed into small made treads then shipped its merry way back into the local lakes or rivers. All out of sight and mind. As Dyril approached the positioned guards, their indifferent expression told her everything. They neither stopped or cared for her presence while she edged past them. One only glanced long enough to note her appearance before giving a sound yawn. She wore nothing that was made to draw attention. A cowl was draped about her head, covering her neck and head from sight. Along the black dyed cloth were silver floral designs with a simple line edge, nothing too fancy. A dark poncho covered a slender tunic dress with the skirt ended just at her ankles. Her boots kicked the ends as her legs pulled along the road and brought her straight past the gate frame. On her arm, she balanced a basket filled with goodies that Kiseo had made up. Dyril suspected they would’ve been rather traditional to the Mao’s culture compared to the Elven one where well wishes were simply made. Those were often followed with secret wishes of misfortune, embarrassment, and worst within closed doors. The half-elf pushed the thoughts away after spotting sight of the camp. The men’s rowdy shouts, boastering, and semi-military behavior made missing the place nearly impossible. At spotting her, one a young man rose then shot off to find Claus. Claus was sitting in the command tent and approving and denying some of the suggestions and regular running bureaucracy of the company, papers and scrolls that needed approving by the company captain, things he had decided and just needed to approve, things that was just regular running things and a few things that sort of interested him for a few seconds. Like the report on how far along the repair of his armour had gone. He liked the progress of the repairs that had begun the day before yesterday, but he cared less for the price. In truth it was fair for a master armourers time, but that didn’t mean Claus had to like it. With a quick tuck a trooper entered the tent and raised his hood before addressing his captain. -”Steelhead, ‘lil Dyril is here.” A smile on his face, met with a smirk from Claus who responded. -”Well, see her in then!” He hastily rearranged some of the papers on his desk. Dyril was led in shortly after. Her hand reached for her basket, checking it was secured about her elbow, then looked at Claus. She pulled her hood down from over her head to rest at her shoulders. “So, hard at work I see,” She gently gestured to the basket, “Is there anywhere I can place this?” -”Put it here on the desk, since i assume we’re gonna explore what’s inside?” Claus answer was curious and of course ended with a smirk. “Kiseo thought you would like a housewarming gift and she did tell me that each item symbolizes something for her culture. I don’t know fully what’s in side, but she was confident I would know them,” Dyril said as she sat the basket down. With obvious curiosity Claus removed the cover to see what was inside. As he inspected each item he put it on his desk. Inside was some freshly made youtai, a fried bread Claus vaguely remembered from Beilokias, a candle he smelled but couldn’t place the scent of, but it was flowery, salt in a large pouch and a wine-pouch which he happily picked up and happily showed Dyril. -”Aha! Wine, want to share with me? I have no idea what the scent is on this one though.” He said as he carefully ranged a toss and tossed the candle to Dyril. As she caught it Claus was setting up a pair of mugs. Dyril mildly rolled her eyes, like a small sister annoyed by her drunken brother. She gently took a whiff and recognized instantly. A frown briefly graced her lips at when Kiseo had found the time to create a soothing scented candle was beyond her. Gently she set it back down then replied. “Lavender. Its scent is suppose to soothe and relax anyone that inhales it, especially during times of stress. A few women use it in perfumes here in Formaroth, but the Mao use it for good health. I’ve seen this sold in Shingseng’s remedy shops.” -”I see.” Claus was actually interested, but busy pouring the wine in the mugs. When he was done he offered one to Dyril and sar down with his legs crossed upon the desk. -”So, what does the bread symbolise? And the other things as well of course.” He smelled the youtai deeply and put it down again. He figured he’d have some later. “Well, from what both Kiseo and her mother, the bread symbolizes the hope you will never go hungry. The wine is for your life to have sweet experiences. I assume the other pouch is salt and that is for your life to always have some spice. Finally, the candle so your home will always be full of light and hope,” Dyril explained as she took her own mug, not surprised that Claus went for the wine first. He was never one to pass up the chance for a drink. Spotting him sniff the fried bread, she then added, “She made it fresh this morning. I know this because, I had some for breakfast. She used sheep lard from a newly butchered ram. I’m pretty sure she’s making some potstickers and tofu, If you’re interested I can request she add another bowl.” -”Ooh, some elven cooking. I think i’ll take that offer actually.” Claus checked the other pouch and it was indeed salt in it. “The origins of potstickers and tofu is actually from the Mao culture. We just started to gradually absorb it into our own culture, much like we do with anything else,” Dyril corrected him. Her lips curled into a softer smile, “Kiseo will be happy to have you, as would I. So, any idea how long before you could move into your new base?” On that Claus fell back in his seat and exhaled in a troubled way. -”The place was in a rough shape, all the inner walls needs to be stripped since the place had gotten damp in the insulation. Then the guys needs to put up new ones. I’ll however not put in as nice ones as was there before and they can forget embroidered walls.” He took a sip on his wine, a nice crisp wine. -”That with the fact I need to redesign some stuff to fit all the guys… weeks, months. I’m thinking weeks though, my men are efficient and are motivated to get a proper house.” A rumble of thunder in the distance as well as the rain increasing explained well the motivation. Living in tents in the rain isn’t exactly fun. Dyril jumped then settled back down, realizing what caused the thunderous sounds. Her eyes shifted to what served to be the tent’s doorway before returning to Claus. She considered her next words before putting forth her questions. “Do any your men have building experience? I rather you weren’t crushed because the foundation was poorly put together.” Claus shook his head with a smile on his face. -”Everyone seems to forget it, the Steel Fist are specialised in siege warfare, many of the men are proficient siege engineers. I have set up siege towers and trench systems with their help. We don’t build it pretty but we build it strong. There will be no problem there.” Claus was confident and happy, not at all annoyed as he might have been had another person asked the question. “Unfortunately, my… [i]grandfather[/i] interrupted that education about the Steel Fist,” Dyril pointed out, unbothered by Claus’ correction. Her hands folded into her lap as she thoughtfully looked toward the tent’s entrance. She knew the storm was approaching, but her mind couldn’t help but actually wander back to target practice. Every thump of the arrow hitting its intended spot made her heart jerk in excitement. Claus’ praise, even if it was overdone, helped to spur on that desire to become better. It was almost an addictive sensation she missed out in her life. She had her wine only half drained now. She was a light drinker when she wasn’t required to dig deeply into the cup, mostly because she liked her head clear and able to spot any trouble before it happened. “True, but siege towers aren’t exactly buildings. What are you aiming to build within it? What purposes will it have, aside from housing everyone between tasks?” Dyril figured she might as well get her mind off archery with helping Claus. With a slight tuck on his chin, he pondered a moment before answering. -”The usual, an office for me and a couple for the lieutenants. Katrina needs one as well, on top of that i need a practice yard, fake targets, archery range, those sort of things. But mostly it’s gonna be for sleeping in.” Claus answer was to the point, with a realisation he added. -”Oh, and storage. Lots of storage.” He leaned back with his arms behind his head, imagining the storage filled with cash and booze with a grin. “Sounds pretty simple,” Dyril noted, finally giving into her desires. She placed down the wine glass as she bluntly asked, “I’ll admit, my original purpose for coming was a bit selfish. I wanted another lesson in archery. I need an escape from the stress of finding someone to escort my carts when I finally find the ideal climate for the mandrakes.” Claus looked at the tent wall and listened to the rain for a moment. -”Well we ain't loosening any arrows today. Blame the rain for that.” He turned towards Dyril, the times in the Beilokias they shared as they did simple archery training now a cherished memory of Claus, unlike all the memories of the wars which began to make themself known again. He shook it off and smiled. -”But you know you are welcome to come and train archery any time you want. Swords, maces and polearms as well. If i don’t have the time there’s probably someone who’ll help you out as well.” He stood up and went to his pack and searched for a moment and produced a small hunting crossbow. -”AHA! Here it is.” He pulled out and strung his crappy little practice crossbow, he’d gotten it from his mother once and kept it for fun. Dyril had honestly loosened more arrows from it than he but he didn’t care. She shone up when he brought the practice bow. -“But we can practice your stance! Now show me how it’s drawn.” He handed the crossbow over with a smirk.