[center][h2] [color=b5a0d2][b]⚘[/b] Steffen Gravinir [b]⚘[/b][/color] [b] [b]&[/b] [color=orange] Lein [/color][/b][/h2] [/center][hr] [hider=] Taking the lead back into Candaeln with Rui’s baggage in tow, Steffen noted some tonal irregularity around here. Occasionally looking back at Lein trailing behind him, the Hundi was being rather quiet than usual. He often ain’t that quiet around him, always finding something (no matter how stupid) to talk about. Now that he was around though, the Ingvarr was curious that he hadn’t seen Lein at all the entire week. He wondered if that had anything to do with it. [color=b5a0d2]“Haven’t seen you at all this week. Where’ve you been?”[/color] [color=orange]“Oh me?”[/color] Lein’s ears perked up, surprised by the question. Then, as if to cover for his lack of chatter, he slouched and gave a nonchalant shrug, letting the bags shift around on his shoulders. Lein was no stranger to ferrying baggage around, but the unusual shapes within the bags made for a challenging balance. [color=orange]“Been around. Met a couple old friends and had to entertain them for a bit. They’ve been a handful, but I had it covered.” [/color] [color=b5a0d2]”Ah, alright.”[/color] Steffen nodded. [color=b5a0d2]”Well, like with Rui, if they’re coming to Candaeln, just give me a quick note I’ll give them a warm welcome.”[/color] Given he was away for the whole week, it could have been beneficial from having more than one helper. Though given his Ingvarr blood, it could be a little intimidating depending on who it is. [color=b5a0d2]”Where are they from if I might ask? Fellow Hundis, or others?”[/color] It took half a moment for Lein to come up with a fitting response, considering the possible crossfire he might receive if Steffen ever decided to corroborated with Fionn. [color=orange]“Nah, just a grumpy old Ingvarr actually. Kinda like you, but angrier, dumber and way less handsome.”[/color] Lein winked, though there was less of his usual playfulness. [color=orange]“Never asked where he came from. Never told.”[/color] Lein frowned. Hadrianus. That much was true. Where did his grim retainer come from? And speaking of, where did Steffen come from? Lein had stifled some of the curiosity in the opportunities that came up. [color=orange]“Had to guess? From err, Barukstaed, I should think.”[/color] [color=b5a0d2]”Haha, yeah we do tend to get that bad image.”[/color] Having the reputations for being gigantic fearsome warriors was often associated with those attributes despite the honor-bound attribute. It couldn’t be helped that Vos Korvungand’s legacy in Thaln was still quite recent. Some of those still alive today would still have remembered the time of their invasion and the downfall that ensued. But if it was an Ingvarr, that would be quite fascinating. Knowing modern Ingvarrs, Steffen guessed that they were there for business purposes. Mercenaries, hired guards. Not many would outright choose to live here like him. [color=b5a0d2]”Probably?”[/color] Steffen looked up in thoughts. [color=b5a0d2]”I know some who were born outside of our cold wasteland. We do have a lengthy legacy in the region.”[/color] Given how many incursions into Velts, Inthillin and Thaln they had. [color=b5a0d2]”I was born [i]in[/i] Barukstaed though. One way you can probably tell is the skin.”[/color] He lifted his sleeve up, revealing his arm’s bare skin. He tapped on his wrist with his other wrist, his hand being preoccupied with the luggage [color=b5a0d2]”They’re usually drier and thicker. Maybe whiter too but that one also depends on what they eat.”[/color] [color=orange]“[i]Quoi?[/i] You’ve come way farther than I have, then? Thought I was the whistle-weed getting all strung up in the Roses, being the only one sweating my tail out with the summers here.”[/color] What Steffen said sat well within what he had heard of the snow-blasted deserts up above. Roaring giants rampaging through armored battalions, holding flaring torches against the linen of the Ithillin pennants. Hapless villagers shivering in fear of the two pronged horns in the distance. Or so the history books and red-faced instructors told him. The rest of what he knew were mercenaries and laurel-clad guardsmen, offering blood in exchange for coin. That is, until he met Steffen. Yes, quite the contrary, preferring to hold a quill between his fingers than the clash of bodies in the training yard. Meeting Lein with a firm but even admonishment over dunking his head whenever the Hundi stole Steffen’s coat. He had a feeling about this dissonance, but it was yet confirmed. [color=orange]“Guessing you’re not missing the weather then?”[/color] [color=b5a0d2]”I don’t know. I think just got used to both.”[/color] Steffen smiled amusingly at the question. [color=b5a0d2]”Though yeah, if I were to pick one, I’d rather be in warmer weather. It’s hot, but the sun gives me reasons to go out more. One thing I remember from my childhood was that if rain or snow clouds greet you in the morning, it’ll have dinner with you too. It’s uh…a rather overbearing guest.”[/color] [color=orange]“Aye, and quite uninvited on the road too, with the muck everywhere. Still, have you been on the water in a summer storm?”[/color] Lein took a deep breath, mimicking his memory of looking out into the sunless skies, grasping onto the railings as the storm thudded against the rolled up sails, the adolescent Hundi’s screams of wild energy meeting in a frenzied dance with the howling wind. An echo of the briny, seaweed-choked smell. [color=orange] “Ran into a couple back in Velt, got knocked around by them a bunch. Good at rousing your spirits, so long as you don’t get thrown off into the sea.”[/color] His momentary smile was hidden behind the luggage. [color=orange]“Heh. Won’t be doing much more of that ‘round these parts.”[/color] [color=b5a0d2]”Oh, once. Never again.”[/color] Steffen shook his head, looking away to hide the trigger, feeling his stomach twirling. [color=b5a0d2]”It sounds weird for Ingvarrs, but I have seasickness. Normal trip I could try to combat it by being on the oar duty more often, but storm…”[/color] It was an embarrassing fact to admit, considering they were just as much naval culture as their warrior’s. It wasn’t the main reason why Steffen turned away from their way so hard, but it certainly helped influence. [color=b5a0d2]”You’re from Velt? Or are you just there from your long travel?”[/color] Steffen turned to ask. Lein did mention that Steffen came much further than him. Hundi society weren’t insular at all, so they could be from a lot of places. Lein’s story from speaking to others also wasn’t necessarily consistent to when he spoke to Steffen, so there’s that as well. [color=b5a0d2]”Sorry if you mentioned it before, my memory couldn’t recall.”[/color] [color=orange]“Nah, just,”[/color] Lein paused. His usual response of the nonchalant, teasing ‘just been around’ died on his lips. He bit the inside of his mouth in contemplation. [color=orange]“Have you ever heard of the Keening? The uh, Rite of Passage.” [/color] [color=b5a0d2]”Umm…”[/color] The word Keening was foreign to him, initially thought to be a Veltian town name or something, but the Rite of Passage clicked. [color=b5a0d2]”Oh yeah yeah. That marriage fight thingy that you guys have to do?”[/color] [color=orange]“...yeah. Something like that.”[/color] Lein continued. [color=orange]“You grow up all cozy-like till sixteen, then you get kicked out into the grand old world to prove your mettle or some other nonsense. Loop back around, challenge someone to a duel and win your love.”[/color] His voice was unintentionally bitter, dripping with venomous sarcasm. [color=orange]“Didn’t want to be in bed with that whole pantomime, so I packed my gear and left Ithillin.”[/color] The truth as ever was sequestered into its own monstrous cell. But this much Lein could explain. It was just as believable as any other tall tale he blathered to others anyway. [color=orange]“Landed myself in all sorts of places, but managed to stumble all the way ‘round this forsaken continent, Velt, Chauntessy, Thaln - not Barukstaed, but hey, might end up freezing my other hand off instead in a couple years, hmm?”[/color] Steffen chose to believe it though. His mind could be on an eternal debate with itself about its validity without concrete proof, but his heart, one like a piece of charcoal, having been to similar places and emerged a bit less than it used to be, chose to believe something like that. The Ingvarr, having arrived at the room in the midst of the conversation, opened the door and let the bunny’s luggage down in an empty space nearby, and sat down on the side of the bed. [color=b5a0d2]”Good choice though.”[/color] Steffen joked back, nudging Lein on his healthy arm. He was curious about the arm too, but knowing his own story of his hip scar, it is a line one wouldn’t want to just cross without a toll. But seeing that Lein willingly gave the story, Steffen figured he might want to know a bit of his. [color=b5a0d2]”I know about your story, would you like to know mine?”[/color] He still debated what Erich said to him in the dream yesterday against himself, but a good gesture like that was to be returned regardless. And Lein, having traded stories for many a trail, understood the gesture implicitly. A truth for a truth, no matter how fragmentary. He dropped the bag from his head unto his knee and set it down with the rest of the luggage. [color=orange]“But of course, let’s hear it! What made you stumble all the way down to Aimlenn?”[/color] [color=b5a0d2]”Not too different from you really.”[/color] Steffen shrugged, planting his chin on one of his knees, wrapping it around with both arms, looking at Lein with a side-glance to hide the dolorousness. [color=b5a0d2]”We don’t have marriage duel, but we do have a family name to fill in the colors. A lot of us take pride in our family name, even though some of the history hasn’t been exactly great.”[/color] [color=b5a0d2]”If it’s not being a fierce fighter and a fiercer drinker, it’s not how Ingvarrs are, or at least that’s what my father tells me.”[/color] Knowing the conversation was getting heavy, he tried to lighten it up a little, pointing at his face. [color=b5a0d2]”But look at my face, does this seem like a father’s boy to you?”[/color] He had always been told that he resembled his mother more than his father, which was more of a common thing to say when there’s nothing to say, but still. [color=b5a0d2]”Anyway, my freedom came after my father was slain, ironically for not being a fierce enough fighter. I wasn’t around at the time, so I just left.”[/color] For that one, he did have to consider the truth told here. It was technically true, he just omitted the fact that it was patricide. Nor that he handed the head of family title to his brother, which caused this to begin with. He felt conflicted saying that, but the act of killing a family member was still a big deal to consider, especially for more loyalty-bound cultures like the Hundi. [color=b5a0d2]”The rest is basically like you, I stumble from job to job till I come here, coincidentally at the doorstep of the Cazt’s bastardly war. After doing some work for them, they offered a place here.”[/color] He shrugged again, this time looking at Lein directly, being more comfortable at this point. [color=b5a0d2]”So yeah, that’s how I’m here.”[/color] Lein remained quiet, making space for the story un-spooled before him as he leaned across next to the door, listening Steffen tell his story in one ear and keeping watch with the other. Not too different, indeed. There was always a gravity to every story Lein had listened to, and this one had imparted a gift of trust between them. Could it be a fabrication, just as Lein practiced so frequently? Perhaps - but what he had been told made sharp relief to why Steffen, with his silhouette cutting the perfect figure of an Ingvarr warrior, had taken up ink over blood. If Steffen could fake that veiled moroseness, then Lein would let himself be fooled. Lein matched Steffen’s return to lightheartedness, acknowledging the redirect with a smile of his own. An undercurrent of regret, still holding its cards as the table closed, but it would remain alone. He propped back up, feeling the wind turn about in the room and whistling into the window. Somehow, he felt just a little easier. [color=orange]“We’re peas in a terrible pod then, aye? Way too stubborn for our own good and far, far from home.”[/color] Stubborn. Yeah he was. Not in the traditional sense, but he was indeed a stubborn fool. It is difficult to fault any other on that. [color=b5a0d2]”Yeah, that is true, but at the same time…”[/color] Steffen laid his cheek bare on his palm looking at Lein, an easy chuckle escaped his lips. [color=b5a0d2]”Home doesn’t have to be that miserable place. I like it here more. Maybe one day something happens and I’ll go, but I would be bold enough to call it my home right now.”[/color] That much Lein could agree. But then it brought up another question. The one that yet remained unanswered in Lein’s mind. [color=orange]“So the Knights are your home, then?”[/color] Steffen wasn’t sure at first how to word the answers. In a way, that statement he made was a bit bold, so substantiating that would be a task. [color=b5a0d2]”I guess? Saying that makes me sound like Sir Fionn, but in truth...”[/color] He tilted his head back and forth a bit. [color=b5a0d2]”There are knights here that make me feel welcomed. They don’t judge me, so I consider that a homely thing. It’s not about the beds or anything physical.”[/color] But at the same time, there were others. Steffen found that if he were to lag behind, or not to be worthy of knightly behavior, they wouldn’t look at him kindly. For an administrative knight like he is, he wasn’t often prone to that, but there were still some invisible itch of that. Maybe it wasn’t as simple as he thought. Leaning over to Lein, the Ingvarr lightheartedly joked. [color=b5a0d2]”Does that make me sound a bit mopey?”[/color] Lein punched Steffen in the arm, grinning, [color=orange]“Don’t you go soft on me now, Sir Steffen! We’ve a knight’s honor to uphold!”[/color] Lein looked outside to tune back into the distant sounds of the training yard, a far away but assured promise of their compatriots’ presence. Home, huh? Lein’s home remained as the sky opened above him and the wind flowing past him, but at the very least, a rest with some homeliness wasn’t so bad. No, it won’t be bad at all. [color=orange]“Steff,”[/color] he began. Lein felt a surge of untangled temptation rise. But the very moment he opened his mouth again, his sentence had changed. [color=orange]“I do have something to confess - your squeaky door frame - might’ve been me.”[/color] The Ingvarr’s ever-so-friendly smile turned flat rather quickly. [color=b5a0d2]”Wait, so you’re saying…you caused that? And the weird shuffling of my record books?”[/color] [color=orange]“Guilty as charged.”[/color] He winked with a salute. Steffen puts both his arms together, resting on the bridge of his nose, his posture now slouching forward. A [i]looong[/i] sigh was heard mixed in with a raspy throat. Once the 7ft tall knight recomposed to look at his Hundi friend again, his cheek puffed out slightly on frowning lips That was a good sign to make a dart for it. [/hider]