Redthorn Anvil

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"The Dragon's Crown. My Lord is a bit of a researcher on ancient legends, and he came across a text describing a crown created for the Dragon, and is said to have unbelievable power. I have reason to believe it exists, and I am leaving tonight on a journey to find it."
His expression turned wry. "The catch, Mira, is that, well, it's owned by the Dragon. And he probably won't want to part with it so easily. And that is if we can even find him, and if we manage to convince him, we don't know how it works. But I know of someone who could tell us."

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"What? Mute!?" Sparhawk blinked in surprise. What had happened? Had she run into some trouble with the law before, or another pirate?
"...No, that is news to me. We parted ways before that happened." He told the elf.
"So to have you fulfill your obligation, she goes and steals a weasel and gets you into trouble as well. Poor show of thanks, Mira."
He considered the elf's debate for freedom.
"...Very well. If you--"
He was interrupted by the sound of another soldier's running footsteps approaching, and he turned his ear to listen.
"Sir! We've just recieved word from the noble house whose weasel was stolen from. They've decided to drop the charge, saying that the whole situation is too ridiculous to fuss over."
"Well on that, I think we all agree." Sparhawk replied.
There were a few derisive snorts of agreement.
"Well, it looks like you get to keep your weasel, Mira. Untie them and return the animal."
But an idea struck him then.
A blind man, a one-armed man, and a mute.
He stroked his chin in thought.
"How would you two like a chance to get your arm and your voice back? And your real voice, not the voice of a weasel."

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Ah, so the Elf made his presence known. He could feel a pause as his soldiers waited to hear what Sparhawk's verdict would be, and be prepared should he call for action. It was strange, his sence of ominous 'feeling'. He hadn't developed it until after he lost his sight, but it was like he noticed things that he might not otherwise would have given much thought to. Auras, he supposed they could be called. They didn't help him see anything, of course, but it surely helped him make sense of some situations.
"Let him speak." Sparhawk said.
"Sir, the woman, she...err, stuffed the weasel in her shirt."
Naturally.
"So then get it out of her shirt. You're making all kinds of bad decisions today, aren't you, Mira?"
"Err, yessir." The soldier coughed uncomfortably again, and promptly ordered one of the other men to do it. Probably to avoid fishing down her shirt himself for the animal.

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The use of that particular nickname was more than enough to make Sparhawk's eyebrows shoot up, but the voice...?
"Um, sir? Was the weasel just calling for you?"
So now this weasel was a talking weasel. Well, this was just getting better and better. There was only one person who ever called him 'Sparky'. He crossed his arms.
"Mira. I should have known it would be you. I can't imagine a single self-respecting pirate desperate enough to steal a weasel--talking or no. Times must be pretty bad for the sea-faring thieves if they're resorting to these lows."
Several of his men openly laughed.
Anyone who knew Sparhawk well also knew that his dry, sometimes insulting humor was typically his version of friendly banter. People who didn't know him well usually assumed that he was actually being insulting.
"So tell me, because now I'm curious. Why is a talking weasel worth the risk of getting arrested for? And someone bind their hands up."
"Sir, the old man only has one arm..."
Wow, she couldn't even find decent accomplices. It never ceased to make Sparhawk wonder why the woman decided to become a pirate.
"So then find a way to pin it behind his back--use your brain, man, or don't you have one? Also, collect the weasel."
The soldier made an embarrassed cough. "Yessir."

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"Split up! You lot, go around to the back of the alley and cut off their escape. The rest of you, with me!"
Sparhawk had been knighted some twenty years before, and was a blind knight, though he had not always been. While on patrol, his men acted as his eyes in his stead, and he'd managed to get along quite well since. He'd gotten a report about a lost family pet--hardly dignified work for a knight, but at least it gave him the chance to bring in a thief before he set out that evening. His Lord had told him about a magic artifact, the Dragon's Crown, which held the power to restore his sight. After doing some research on the subject, he'd asked his Lord leave to quest for this crown. He'd planned to leave this very night. It was not yet sundown--his eyes could tell him that, at least--so dealing with this small theft would be of no hinderance in his timetable.
"The men are in position, sir--the thieves are surrounded." He heard one of his men inform him. He frowned.
"Thieves? How many?"
"Two, sir. An old elf man and a pirate woman. With a weasel."
"No doubt that's the missing pet." Sparhawk replied.
A pirate woman? Hadn't his old friend, Mira, become a pirate? Funny how life threw nostalgic moments in one's path. That had been back before he'd lost his sight.
"You're surrounded! Give yourselves up, you're under arrest for the theft of a weasel!" Honestly, that was the lamest-sounding reason for getting arrested. Who the hell would steal a weasel? Sparhawk shook his head with a snort, and he couldn't blame the low chuckles some of his men made.

𝔻🇷🇦🇬🇴🇳'🇸 ℂ🇷🇴🇼🇳

Sir Sparhawk

-The Blind Knight-

Aged 37 Years
Married
Not Over-Friendly
Banters

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OKAY I'M FINALLY HERE WITH CHARACTER ART FOR DEAR, LOVABLE SPARKY OKAY LET'S DO DIS

Journey to the Past

Kain

Kain nodded by way of reply to her greeting. "I was on my way to find a desk for you to use. Perhaps you'll join me and pick one out for yourself." He suggested.

Journey to the Past

Inoth

Well, I mean, clothes are clothes. If you like it, isn't that what matters? The little dragon tilted his head at her. It was then that a familiar voice caught his attention.
"He thinks that it only matters if you like it yourself." The voice belonged to Kain, who had come in when he'd seen the two of them in the shop. He absently stroked the dragon's scaly neck. Inoth wriggled happily.

Journey to the Past

Inoth

Well it's not like those clothes were made for women, I mean, they do belong to Kain. Hey, no wonder he's so stuffy! It's probably because his clothes are uncomfortable! But it was the clothier she wanted to see, so that's where little Inoth would lead her. He let go of her sleeve and flew off, landing somewhere to wait if she fell behind. He led her out into the courtyard, past the gate, across the bridge again, and into the city. It wasn't that busy right now, which was good for them. He led her right to the first clothier he could find, and chittered noisily to get the shopowner's attention.