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  The three adventurers: A woman, a young man, both of bluish-grey hair, and a masked individual were moving along the gravel road leading north — towards the first anticipated destination of their current travels. Meanwhile, a tall, bearded man carried a sack full of clattering metal, as well as another concealed object wrapped in a white cloth on his back with a lot of effort, but not as much as to exhaust him instantly.

  Scratching her neck, one of the travelers opened her mouth. "So you're saying that the conflict with the Gerad Confederation was mutually initiated?" Luka spoke, finally dressed properly for unaccompanied travel in unknown lands, wearing her full apparel for once. Bard, even if a captive of theirs, was allowed to wear some heftier clothes: The undershirt of his armour, warmer pants and boots, as well as some chainmail, just so he wouldn't have to carry more in the bag itself. The brand on his neck was not obstructed as he replied: "Yes, when the tribes that lived at the base of the mountain range left, both countries rushed to consolidate as much territory as possible.”

  The man sniffled and continued, “The result? The two large armed groupings met at multiple points in the valleys, and that ended up causing a few unsanctioned skirmishes. Thus an unofficial conflict without any sort of declaration happened.” Bard adjusted the bag on his back, rising on his heels and dropping, pulling his hands forward to pull the sack higher, “Though both parties withdrew most of their contingent shortly after, under some agreements. I was summoned exactly during that time." Luka was walking in front like always, and Rurik with Neoklipt were behind Bard, who was cruising in the middle of the group.

  Luka took a glance back, promptly returning to watch ahead. "I get that the Rannette kingdom and the Gerad Confederation resorted to using mercs en masse?" Her left hand rested on the pommel of her longsword, while Bard adjusted the sack on his back again, grumbling, "Well, yeah... The pay was good, but fighting in the mountains turned out to be much worse than I had thought before, especially since I was located at a point where the Rannette mercenaries had their defenses set up on a highground." The woman shook her head in acknowledgment, as fighting uphill was one of her least favourite past times, even if she rarely partook in man on man squabbles, “Sounds sucky~”

  With all due respect to the tone of the conversation, Luka couldn’t help but sneer, "Then, I'd assume that it didn't take long for you to get captured?" Bard scoffed, halting his adjusting procedures, "It wasn't because I was unskilled. If we had better coordination, I might've made it out scot-free." Luka gave Bard an awfully pretentious chuckle, not persuaded by his words, "Sure, buddy. It's better that you stay happy with your life sentence and injury-free discharge from the Gerad mercs." Bard silently eyed the woman, he didn't like the intonation of her voice.

  “Can’t say that she isn’t right...”

  However much he disliked the notion, Luka was right. Even he couldn't underestimate how lucky he got in this predicament. Meanwhile the tribulations of the bearded man continued, the woman made sure to shield her eyes from the sun, humming as she looked out in the front, "Anyway, I reckon that we have finally got to Gastat!" And indeed, the empty fields ended and wheat started, the distant houses growing nearer by the minute, "Took us long enough to reach the city by foot." Rurik said, using his right hand to cover his line of sight from the sun, too. They passed a few farmers who gave them a collection of questioning glances, but their gazes primarily focused on Bard, the basic straw hats casting shadows upon their tunics, their figures fading behind the carefree group. Neoklipt got quite a few stares, though.

  The masked man leaned to the side and looked out at the city in the distance, "Doesn't seem like a particularly big town." Neoklipt minded, and Rurik leaned next to Bard. "You said that you used to talk to the dungeon guards a lot, do you know anything about Gastat?" The bearded man turned his head to face the young adventurer, giving him a slight nod before speaking, "Generally Gastat is just a farming town, no more than ten thousand people.” Feeling the appraising gaze of the adventurer’s eyes, Bard continued: “It also has its own military outpost within the city bounds, as well as a dungeon. You can say it's the only major military formation along the entire southwest coast of Rannette, aside from the few smaller towns and villages that comprise the main defensive line to the north-west of the mountains in the south of the country." Luka groaned, not interested in the whole topic, "This is useless information~ We won't be in Gastat for long." The building density gradually increased as they moved along the gravel road, the onlookers changing from farmers to simple city folk, most didn't seem much invested in the passing group.

  The cloaked man caught up to the young and older man in front, "Sounds very inconsiderate, leaving the defense of the entire west coast that borders Gerad to a single defensive line." The masked man reasoned, glancing around at the brick housing that slowly increased in count as they approached the city proper, the wooden accommodations gradually thinning out, "You'd think, but it's a very narrow area that was turned into one large corridor that's overseen by cleverly organised fortresses.” Bard almost rolled his eyes, admitting the superiority of your foe was always unpleasant, “What's worse — with the new positions on the side of the mountain, they now also have a clear view of everything that goes on down in the lowlands and until the very beach."

  Neoklipt turned the slits of his concealing mask to look at the back of Bard's head, giving him a low acknowledging hum. "That makes sense.” With this the masked man quieted down. “But, what's so good in those mountains that both countries decided to just go ham at each other without warning?" Rurik interfered, speeding up to walk by Bard, "Shallow ore reserves, there are a lot of ore deposits that sit right under your feet in the rock. Of course they wanted to have all of that to themselves.” Neoklipt and Rurik shrugged.

  “Seems reasonable”

  The two of them though, Bard yawned, “It was also a generational mission of sorts, if I recall correctly. The tribes that lived at the low of these mountains were very good at repelling any advances done by either side, so ambush tactics were employed." The man himself began to shoot looks the more urban the surrounding landscape got, “Year by year, day by day the Gerad and Rannette forces attacked their villages and chased around those who were nomads."

  Luka raised an eyebrow at the man, whipping her head around and almost tripping on a small stone, prompting the whole group to halt in place. "They ganged up on some tribes?" She said, trying to keep her composure, gripping the pommel of her sword tighter, meanwhile Bard hardly batted an eye, as if he had already seen this commence a dozen times by now. "It did work in the end, albeit it took around a hundred or so years to make them withdraw completely."

  Luka’s expression grew annoyed. "How long ago was it?" She kicked the stone aside with considerable fervor, not even looking as it flew to the side of the road, narrowly missing a passerby, "You mean the war? Started a little shy of a year ago. I don't know how it is right now, as, well, I've been convicted for most of the time..."

  Bard pushed on as Luka restarted the march, "Still that’s pathetic, ganging up... Eh...? If you don't know what the hell is going on at the lines, why would you purposely go south after you've escaped from the dungeon?" The man walked in quiet for a short moment before replying, his face was calm and neutral, although it did seem to be barely askew, "Better to go where you've already been, the forest you've captured me in is directly connected to the mountain range.” Bard clicked his tongue, “If it weren't for you people, I'd be back in Gerad in a few months." Luka openly laughed at his words, "With what chances? It didn't seem like you had that much supplies at your camp, and it was a whole nine people you planned to lead through there!" She tapped her right pointer finger at the temple, and that forced a sour expression out of the man.

  "Besides, have you even got any good survival tactics for that kind of biome?” With a grin she stared back over her shoulder, “All you did was chop up some beat up chest plates and band the pieces into makeshift spikes. Did you really think that those half-assed attempts at banditism would've provided you with enough resources to make it through there?” Luka mockingly shook her finger at Bard, walking sideways for a moment, “That place is worse than some jungles I've been to, and you planned to live there with zero preparation! If anything, we might as well be called your saviors because you could've died there soon enough~" Bard was not amused in the slightest, staring at the woman with a poignant hint in his stoic expression, "I suppose."

  “I mean it wasn't me who suggested that anyway. But call you saviours? You killed the other guys rather nonchalantly for such a righteous title.”

  As Bard was making unpleasant expressions behind Luka’s back, which was now turned to him, they were noticed by a pair of guards who were walking along the street, wearing the all familiar half plate, armed with halberds. Those halberds were thrown over the shoulder in a casual and comfortable carry, with their kettle helmets pulled back on their heads — unobstructing the widening eyes as the halberds were lowered. As the team approached the good fellows, the young man took care to assess the guards from feet till head, "Looks like we are near some correct company." Rurik said, gesturing for Bard to set the sack of armour on the ground along with the white cloth. The Guards were approaching slowly and somewhat relaxed, seeing as Luka moved her hand away from the hilt of her longsword entirely, wiping the usual smug smirk off her face, keeping it a straight expression for the talks.

  "Who are you? Any reason for brandishing a sword like that?" The first guard reached the group: a not so young man with a slight growth of hair on his face, who also took care to memorise everyone's faces with those brown eyes of his, the kettle helmet pulled back frontwards. Luka crossed her arms, but without attitude, "My name is Luka Melinn, That boy is my brother Rurik, and the masked man is Neoklipt." She waved to the masked man — Neoklipt turned Bard's head to reveal the brand on his neck, and both guards squinted their eyes, the suspicions a bit less strict but not alleviated, "We are adventurers of sorts. I heard that some prisoners escaped from the local dungeon and look at what we fetched." She said without much change in tone or expression, briefly glancing at the armour that the guards wore, "The armour that those guys nicked off of your friends are in the sack." The brown-eyed man nodded slightly, "So you're escorting him? Then, if you don't mind, I'll ask you to surrender yourselves for a search."

  Rurik shrugged, squatting to untie the sack, while Luka took off her sheathed sword, letting the other guard hold onto it while the first one went over to pat down Rurik. "You said that you've heard about multiple escapees, where's the rest?" The second guard asked, he was a younger lad, but also not clean shaven, "In the bag." Luka pointed using her head as the man searched her. Once they were done, they switched to Bard and Neoklipt.

  Neoklipt took them a great deal of effort to search completely, the man was armed to the teeth, and they also had a short whisper conversation about him not taking off his mask, which only left them scratching their heads as the mask felt like it was glued to his face. Eventually they gave up on searching Neoklipt altogether, instead opting to just step away and take care of Bard.

  Once Bard had been cleared, the guards each had a few words with one another and carried on with the procedures. "Step aside while I look through the sack." The atmosphere mellowed out as the final stage of the search commenced. The armour within cluttered as he sorted it out and laid it out across the road, the onlookers watching from a distance, but the guard suddenly revulsed, "Ugh... I see, ew." It was the other escapees, but only the brands that they used to have on their necks. With considerable recoil, the guard took great care to move along, "That should be sufficient proof of your achievement..." He bemoaned as his brown eyes locked onto the long white concealed object, "What's in there?" He asked but didn't wait for the reply, moving over to reveal the object by his own hands.

  As the cloth was unwrapped, the shape of the greatsword became more and more apparent, the brown eyes widened yet again, his fingers going along the base of the blade, hushing to call over the other guard. "...It can't be?" They murmured, looking from side to side and at each other, before quickly wrapping the sword back up, whispering amongst themselves in the process, "...Warden's..." A segment of their conversation was barely heard. Both of them straightened out, the older guard clearing his throat, "Uuuuuuuh... I suppose you are free to go, but it would be wise of you to come along with us as we take the scoundrel back to the dungeon." Luka locked eyes with the guard, raising one of her eyebrows, her intuition feeling good about the ordeal, "Sure thing! Lead way, it's less worrisome this way, ain't it?" Now her smirk rose back to her face as she received her own pointy metal stick back.

  "A bit unexpected, but it seems that Bard had nicked the sword from none other than the dungeon warden himself."

  Luka stared at the guards, who were shoving all the loot back inside the sack, taking their time to be careful with the white cloth as they rose from the ground, calling over for Bard so that he could carry the forsaken piece of cloth yet again. But, this time the greatsword was carried by the guards rather than the dangerous prisoner. "Let's move now." The older guard said, and the group moved along the street once more. The gaze of the young woman drifted to the groggy man in the seldom armour, his weary and dreadful expression felt even from the back of his head.

  "Though, the reaction of the guards warrants that this warden isn't just some simple service man."

  Her thoughts went just as fast as their mild stroll through the not-so-busy streets of Gastat, the timely onlookers less curious about the strange guests once they've got the guards escorting them in a respectful manner. However, Luka herself took great care to examine the two men, both of which gladly turned their backs on the four travelers, well — three travelers and a runaway.

  "I don't know what standards there are among the regular guards and prison guards of this place, but I doubt that those two dimwits are specifically of the latter kind. Then, why are they so much as filled with trepidation, or should I say worried about that greatsword belonging to the local Warden?"

  Luka and her expression were rather usual from the outside perspective, but a couple lazy glances at his sister already made Rurik acknowledge the slight turmoil that has clouded her dull mind. In turn, his gears began to turn posthaste after a short period of deduction.

  "I am more than sure that Luka indulged in rumination in the regard of the dungeon warden, and I myself think that this isn't purely without reason... I know that usually prison staff and regular law enforcement are not deeply intertwined amongst themselves in Ranesairan, and, considering that so far the more laid-back and calm approach of the guards is similar to that of the Usurbruk countdom and the Commonwealth makes me think that it's rather safe to assume that the same principles of minimal interactions would apply here, too..."

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Rurik grasped his chin in thought, which made Luka pick up on his deductive process as well. Otherwise, Rurik was coming to a conclusion somewhat swiftly, reminding himself of the whole situation that took place not too long ago.

  "It seems to be the case after all: the Warden is somehow influential outside the dungeon itself, and with that I can go as far as to assume that the Warden might be either somehow related to someone in the general chain of power, or is someone with a past that includes connections to those who are still active within said chain."

  Rurik remained stoic about his deduction, and Luka did not try to hide her interest, those murkish grey eyes fixed on her brother as he himself gradually turned his face towards his sister. His expression was not content with Luka's blatant display of attention. Shortly glancing at the guards and noting how they were deep in murmurs amongst each other, Rurik decided that it would be ultimately best not to engage in avid discussions behind their escorts — to explain this mutely, he simply gestured pinching his lips while giving her a stern look.

  "Rurik you bastard, I know you've got some idea about that Warden already... Annoying brat, you could've at least said something."

  All the while it was thought as Neoklipt casually strode beside them, the young woman rolling her eyes and fixing her gaze straight ahead once again. Rurik did not halt his mind race, however, continuing with the flow of his thoughts as he turned his eyes to the front, too.

  "Although it's not best to speak outright behind guards... I think we have some great odds in this world if we strike a good impression on someone within the local governorate's structure. Favours with officials always pay good, if not money, then counterfavours — I like those a lot."

  With the time passing, and Rurik smiling, the distance to the dungeon decreased and the group soon found themselves walking out of the city bounds. It would've been far more favourable to take a horse carriage with some other guards, but everyone didn't seem to be quite bothered by having to walk dozens of hundreds of steps on the gravel roads of Gastat, the soles of everyone's boots crunching on the small stones of the path as the silhouette of the large dungeon building began to emerge. The pace of the guards quickened slightly, almost as if they were growing restless for reasons only known to them.

  However, their expressions were not ones of worry as they reached the large gates of the external walls of the dungeon grounds, which looked like a repurposed castle or heavy fortifications. The watchmen were situated at the tops of multiple wooden towers — they didn't look part to the thick and old stone of the walls, and when they were let through the massive reinforced gates by the other guards that stood on either side of the entrance, their suspicions were confirmed more or less, as extensive structures of wood lined the inside of the walls, the land between the walls and the inside building open, yet covered by small metal spikes and lined with a pair of moats enough to fit a man like Bard completely from head to toe. Their contents were no less threatening than what was outside their dirty trenches.

  The eyes of the siblings were quickly drawn to the tall and burly man, whose somber expression was now more apparent than ever. Both of them wondered how that sort of muscle treasury managed to get through such defenses alongside mugging multiple guards, as well as nicking the greatsword of the Warden. Absurd — they concluded, yet, it was as true as the sun rising in the morning, maybe Bard wasn't that incompetent after all.

  When they observed the main building with more attention, the past of this structure was getting clearer, the castle or fort — whichever it was — seemed to have significant history for Gastat, as its shape suggested multiple floors, probably three. Yet, it only had one and a half, the second floor was fragmented, the walls over the first floor were separated into segments, likely around the stairs leading up. New stone and renovated parts of the structure were clearly obvious, this place has seen a lot of battles in the times of old, it would appear, and only now reused for other purposes.

  The inside of the Dungeon was not as surprising: usual stone walls, damp and stagnant air, a hint of the smell of filth going up from the levels below, and many doors lining the corridors, where many guards patrolled, who were dressed akin to the guards whom the group met out in the streets. Their peace was not long lived, as a couple of guards came up to their entourage and began whispering conspiratorially to them, so quiet that their own breath disallowed them any opportunity to overhear.

  "Fellow Adventurers, it would appear that your custody over the escapee ends here." The older guard turned back to them after giving the greatsword to the prison guards, the other one of the pair going up to Bard to secure him, while some other guards came to confiscate whatever boon he had previously snatched from them. “Goodness~ Thank you very much!” Luka sighed with relief as Bard was taken away.

  The rest of the procedure wasn't anything exciting, as the three were simply told to stay in a seldom decorated room and made to... wait. A single trio of wooden chairs, a table and another chair on the opposite side of it, with the rest stowed in a dark corner of the prolonged rectangular chamber.

  Clearly bored, Luka tapped on the table, "Oi, you know what?" She said while pursing her lips, one of Neoklipt’s throwing knives held between her nose and lip. Her words attracted attention from her equally bored brother, who raised his gaze from counting the fibers of the table's boards, "What is it?" His head turned, but most of the motion was done by his eyes, "Isn't it strange how none of the guards asked Neoklipt to remove his mask?" Luka added after pulling the knife away from her face and sliding it back to Neoklipt.

  Rurik crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair as Neoklipt leaned forward to look left, past Rurik and at Luka. He was not participating in the conversation just yet, but he did hide away his weapon. "I mean... I did notice it, even Sarbat didn't seem too bothered by having someone like Neoklipt around him. I mean no insult, but Neoklipt looks creepy." The creepy man's mask, or call it a face, gradually approached one of his partner's. Rurik didn't turn his face to look back, and Neoklipt just froze in place while staring into the side of the young man's face. "It makes me think that they are either very careless, or people of this kind are common... Since they also didn't mind us being armed and without any sort of identification. Honestly, if that happened somewhere like the Church’s territory or the Raressank Dukedom, we'd be locked up without much process."

  Luka nodded slightly and Neoklipt pulled back entirely. "I observed them the whole time, it didn't seem like they were concerned by my presence in the least." Rurik had an uncomfortable expression trickle down to his face, he rubbed Neoklipt's left shoulder, "Uh... I'm sorry to break it to you, but they were rather tense whenever you got close, even we had a hard time adapting to your presence at first. And we even had some experience being around kussars in the past..." Neoklipt glanced at Rurik then back at Luka, his mask staying for a second on each of the sibling's faces, before tilting downwards, the hands of the man slowly rubbing against one another. "Oh..."

  Their quiet ten or twenty minutes were soon interrupted by the sounds of the door being slung open in an instant, and the subsequent thump of boots entering the inside perimeter. "So here you are!" an older woman with a delighted expression barged, her body clad in a strict uniform, her dark brown hair tugged into a ponytail at the back, with one of the green eyes bleak with clear scarring on the cornea, the surrounding skin of her eyelid, brow and cheekbone ingrained with a scarring no less severe. The wrinkles of her face were exaggerated by the wide smile on her face, a tinted bottle in her left hand and four cups clasped in her left by the inside walls.

  The woman came up to the table. "Here I was drowning in despair over losing my sword, and look who came straight to rescue my heart!" She was quite a bit taller than Luka and Rurik, who stood up to greet the hastily arrived individual, but unsure of how to proceed with someone this excited. They didn't have to think of an approach, however, as the woman casually set the bottle and the cups on the table, leaning over the creaking wood to clasp each of the three adventurers' hands in succession, the skin of her own hands notably hard. "I heard that all of you are adventurers, huh? Quite the keen eyes for snatching sleazy bastards you've got on your heads." The woman said, finally setting down her rear on the chair with a prolonged sigh. "C'mon, sit down fellas."

  Hesitantly passing each other glances, the group sat down at the same time, although the woman wasn't done ravaging the stale air of the room, actively disturbing the barely established peace at any given chance: "Time for introductions! I'm no less curious about knowing you bunch than getting back the prisoner and my greatswords, so get on it, speak up." She leaned on the table with one of her elbows resting languidly on the boards, the slightly raised eyebrows keenly gazing out at the people in front. "U-uh, yes, of course..." The energy was quite intense, so Luka felt a bit startled and had to contain her discomfort swiftly, "I'm Luka Melinn, p-pleasure to meet you...?" Rurik also took a moment to gather a more or less determined look, "And I'm her brother, Rurik."

  Neoklipt wasn't at all swayed, pointing a single finger at his own face as the words coming out of his mouth took on a more saddened tone. "Neoklipt." Was all he said for his introduction, which prompted the woman to side him with her good eye — then came the second round of handshakes, this time it was looking like she was trying to rip off their arms at the shoulder, "Very good, very good!" After those words her digits tentatively traced a path towards the cork peering out of the bottleneck, pulling hard at the stiff yet squishy construct, "My name's Kalista Zukurnik, the warden that those guards were freaking out about." Her eye also peered out shortly during her brief introduction, stealing intense pictures of their reactions.

  However, none of the three reacted in any particularly outstanding way. A better way to phrase it would be to say that their reactions were bare, keeping their eyes posted at Kalista with a slightly askewed eyebrow at best. The woman's own gaze fell not too long afterwards, the popping sound of the cork being pulled out a swift change of pace for the room. "It would only be appropriate for me to thank the saviours of my heartfelt possession, so it is my utmost pleasure to have you enjoy yourselves during your stay in Gastat." Kalista said, pouring the dark amber liquid out of the bottle and into the cups, filling them short of the brim, "Those might not be the most fitting vessels for the drink... But I hope the taste satiates some of the fatigue that undoubtedly befell you after such an arduous journey."

  The cups were slid to each of the adventurers one by one, the unmistakable tinge of alcohol hitting their nostrils with a clear sweetness. The generally tense pretense of comfort in their moods tilted to genuine delight, especially in the case of Luka — the sloshing of the liquid in her mouth forced a perceptible smile to her face, as she was ever the favoured one to drink until total inability out of all of them.

  "Tastes like Whiskey."

  Rurik did not express such an outward excitement over the chance to cleanse his palate like his sister, thoughtfully swerving the drink in the cup and observing the simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar beverage, glancing up at the content Kalista, who rolled her fingers on the table, waiting until the guests finish their first reverie.

  "I see you enjoy this brew quite a bit, hm? All the way from the Earl's own residency, a fancy drink even for myself!" Luka choked slightly, slinging the cup back onto the table with a resounding "H-huh?"

  This woman kept throwing surprises at the two young people and the sad black blob. Rurik, instead of buckling down under the sudden pressure, went into more inquisitive action, "Earl... Do you mean the lord of Gastat?” Kalista gave him her utmost attention in this instance, “It seems that you are trying to insinuate something, if I might be as rude as to assume." The young man indeed wasn't a fan of witty people, his face as a whole drew a suspicious stare at the older woman.

  Kalista only gave him a sharp smirk, which quickly transformed into a normal smile. "Indeed I am! What I'm trying to say is — I am quite important here, and you three really helped me out with the sword, truly.” She leaned onto the table, holding up her head by the chin, “I will not go as far as to state its value to myself, but those who brought it back deserve equal reward for equal effort, don't you think?" Kalista gladly tried the drink on her tongue as well, chuckling with delight as she set the cup down, "You claimed to be adventurers, didn't you? I'm dying to know what could've brought such peculiar people to Gastat of all places. As you've probably noticed, we don't have much happening around here besides minor scuffles and the like." That face of hers did gleam with genuine curiosity, and, besides, it is better not to mess with the laws.

  "It's nothing." Neoklipt suddenly chimed in, to the surprise of all present people, his cup settled on the table with a considerable amount of the contents absent. "We were on a voyage, you can say. It simply led us here and now we're having a stark time exploring Rannette." Luka and Rurik turned their faces to the masked man, whose face was slightly lowered and aimed at the cup.

  "How diplomatic! Way to go, Klippy!"

  Luka thought, taking her cup to her lips for another time, turning her eyes to Kalista, attempting to mask her own surprise. "And where'd you come from, then? A voyage would mean that you came from the west. The Rannette kingdom doesn't have any east sea access." Her eyes squinted as she leaned to the side on the table, her finger straying away from the cup, pointing at the group. Rurik felt slight pressure in this case, such casual prying felt just like back home at a guard's post. "Ranesairan." Neoklipt was the one to speak again, and did not waver, continuing his convincing tone through the last of his words, "Though you won't be able to find it on any maps, not of the Rannette kingdom, that is."

  Those were bold words, but they were truthful indeed. Rurik internally grasped his lower face in thought, as the conversation was gradually getting harder to manage. "Ranesairan, huh?" The warden rolled her good eye, the eyelids wide as her mind pondered on the word, "I can't say that I've even heard those kinds of syllables before..." She looked back at them, her expression inscrutable in the likely suspicion that might've arisen in her head. The talk went on regardless with Kalista's initiative, "That's a whole 'nother conversation within of itself, ain't it?" Her aim was not to probe her saviours after all, a grin spreading across her face as she leaned even further over the table, her cup extended, "I'd rather have cheers than sneers trying to talk about someone's origins, I'm bloody curious about your years of findings than anything!" The group raised their cups, and for a short bit, the room was filled with the sounds of drinkware tapping drinkware.

  "Speaking of which..." Luka asked with her eyes readied at Kalista's face, while Rurik gradually regained his calm and steady bearings, "What happened to your eye? It looks gnarly."

  “Be more nuanced, you dumbass.”

  Her brother felt a shiver run down his spine at the nonchalance of his sister, given the situation it wasn't an ideal question. But Kalista didn't seem to mind in the slightest, by the looks of it, rubbing the scarred eyelid with her fingers, "This? Nothing important..." She groaned and looked away, grumbling "...Much embarrassing, though." The younger woman nodded, nudging the warden to continue her disclosure, "Uhh... Well, you see, when I just got into the army — God how long ago it was... — I and other graduates were being assigned horses, it's how it goes in Rannette.” Kalista took a hearty sip out of her cup, “Being in the all important cavalry, we had to get stallions since they are so strong and whatnot, aggressive, indomitable." She rolled her finger on the table, flicking her eyes back at Luka, "And they were great horses, don't misunderstand me, but if we put that aside — I was given a stark, stellar even, black stallion... It was a beautiful horse and I wish it was mine, really!" Kalista clicked her tongue and mumbled as she poured more of the Earl's drink in her cup, scowling, "But that asshole thought completely otherwise, I suppose. As I was riding him around, testing the reins, boots, grip, waters — that hunk of meat buckled on the spot as soon as we got a slight bit over walking pace!"

  Kalista threw up her arms, and as her arms dropped back down, her left hand slammed against the table flat, "I spun over his fucking head and I landed on a stone the size of my fist with my bloody fucking eye!" Her exasperation met their ears nice and clear, the frustration apparent no less than the splinters peeking out of the table boards. "I- I see..." Luka flinched at the sudden sound permeating through the room, as well as Rurik, who had to sigh as he licked his upper lip clean from the spilled beverage. "At that moment I wish I could've roasted that cunt and pulled it into strips...!" Kalista squeezed her right hand into a fist, sizzling in her own anger before trying to speak in a calm manner, "But I couldn't, he was the army's property and it was my fault for the incident, CLEARLY."

  After all that shouting, Kalista looked like she was quickly coming back to a more cheery demeanour. "The results are on my face as you can see, and I can't.” She looked at the three, they didn't laugh at her joke, “At least not from that eye HAHA!" Her laughs shook the stone, but eventually they lowered to an annoyed groan, "That was too long ago for me to hold a grudge, and against a horse no less." A chuckle and her previously cheery expression returned. "But besides, let's talk about your own mishaps, shall we?"

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