Paladins in Nascorn
(Thursis from Shey-Re too?)
It was getting cold in the chapter. Nascorn’s novices had been doing little but chop wood for close to a month, but there was never a shortage of the needy - or sometimes, sadly, the opportunists - to come begging for free fuel to get through winter.
The four Paladins stared dolefully into the embers of their fireplace, which had just died.
“That last fellow was definitely an on-seller,” muttered Lorannon. “I could tell it as soon as look at him.”
“My word,” Lukhin said. “Useful psychic talent you’ve developed there.”
“Just you wait. Snows’ll clear, we’ll go around to his house, and there he’ll somehow have a few new suits of nice clothes.”
“Do you always wax philanthropic when it’s cold?” asked Thursis from inside his hood. A little puff of steam chased his words out.
“Shh,” Tobrey replied. “Better than the singing.”
On accidental cue, three of the four scraped their chairs closer to the fire’s ghost-heat in perfect unison, and it was enough to crack grins on every face.
“’Ah,’” quoted Tobrey, “’how faithfully the Paladin suffers.’”
“Doth,” said Lorannon.
“What?”
“Throw a doth in. I like doth.”
“Alack,” Lukhin intoned, since the other two still looked blank, “how faithfully the Paladin doth suffer.”
“You’re both odd,” said Thursis.
“Don’t be silly,” Lorannon replied. “Best part of this job is the doth. Not everyone gets to doth, you know.”
“You mean ‘not every man dost doth’.”
“Shut up, Lukh.”
Thursis shared a little glance with Tobrey. He was inordinately fond of this strange pair even after just the one month - which they had made quite short - but Lukhin’s utterly deadpan cracks and Lorannon’s rambles took time to get used to.
Tobrey reached a hand out from under his cloak to claim a bit of sausage from the table. The doting chapter workers always saw that they ate well, at least. “What’s the real best part, do you think? I rather like training the novices.”
“Odd choice.” Thursis grinned at his older friend, honestly surprised to hear it. Tobrey was almost shy in front of the lads. “Why?”
“Not sure.” Tobrey chewed for a while, half-smiling. “I guess it makes me worry less when I think what’ll happen in the chapter after we go.”
Lorannon laughed his ever-quick laugh, casting a sly look from the next chair. “Rubbish. You just like having an excuse to hit those sneaky boys with practice sticks.”
Thursis laughed as well for Tobrey’s mock-cunning expression. “You do have a knack for dropping them in the dirt.”
“It’s all in the wrist action,” said Tobrey.
The two transients were obviously having an effect on Tobrey. Thursis grinned a bit wider.
“I enjoy the arbitration, myself,” he said. “Lord Maswy gives us a lot of leeway with his common law here, which is good. I think he actually appreciates what we do to keep the peace.”
“Cows,” said Lorannon darkly.
Thursis blinked. It really was hard catching up to all his little non-sequiturs. “Pardon?”
“It just always seems to boil down to cows. ‘Why are you two fighting?’ ‘He took my cow!’ ‘Why did you kill his dog?’ ‘Because it spooked my cow!’ ‘What’s this war about?’ ‘Cows!’”
“Ah, yes,” said Lukhin. “The Great Bovine Wars of the Midlands. Just ignore him; he runs out of breath eventually.”
“What about you?” asked Tobrey, grinning at his tone.
Lukhin looked thoughtful. Well, more thoughtful than usual; it was his default expression, after all. “I like seeing things change,” he said at last. “Even when it’s just by a fraction, and just for a little while. It’s harder to see that happen if you live in the one place.”
“Good answer,” agreed Thursis. Tobrey nodded as well.
“Lorannon?” he prompted after a reflective pause.
“Already told you,” came the reply. “The doths.”
“Lorannon.”
“Okay, fine. The uniform.”
“Is he always like this?”
“What? Don’t try to tell me you don’t love the sparkles.”
It was getting cold in the chapter. Nascorn’s novices had been doing little but chop wood for close to a month, but there was never a shortage of the needy - or sometimes, sadly, the opportunists - to come begging for free fuel to get through winter.
The four Paladins stared dolefully into the embers of their fireplace, which had just died.
“That last fellow was definitely an on-seller,” muttered Lorannon. “I could tell it as soon as look at him.”
“My word,” Lukhin said. “Useful psychic talent you’ve developed there.”
“Just you wait. Snows’ll clear, we’ll go around to his house, and there he’ll somehow have a few new suits of nice clothes.”
“Do you always wax philanthropic when it’s cold?” asked Thursis from inside his hood. A little puff of steam chased his words out.
“Shh,” Tobrey replied. “Better than the singing.”
On accidental cue, three of the four scraped their chairs closer to the fire’s ghost-heat in perfect unison, and it was enough to crack grins on every face.
“’Ah,’” quoted Tobrey, “’how faithfully the Paladin suffers.’”
“Doth,” said Lorannon.
“What?”
“Throw a doth in. I like doth.”
“Alack,” Lukhin intoned, since the other two still looked blank, “how faithfully the Paladin doth suffer.”
“You’re both odd,” said Thursis.
“Don’t be silly,” Lorannon replied. “Best part of this job is the doth. Not everyone gets to doth, you know.”
“You mean ‘not every man dost doth’.”
“Shut up, Lukh.”
Thursis shared a little glance with Tobrey. He was inordinately fond of this strange pair even after just the one month - which they had made quite short - but Lukhin’s utterly deadpan cracks and Lorannon’s rambles took time to get used to.
Tobrey reached a hand out from under his cloak to claim a bit of sausage from the table. The doting chapter workers always saw that they ate well, at least. “What’s the real best part, do you think? I rather like training the novices.”
“Odd choice.” Thursis grinned at his older friend, honestly surprised to hear it. Tobrey was almost shy in front of the lads. “Why?”
“Not sure.” Tobrey chewed for a while, half-smiling. “I guess it makes me worry less when I think what’ll happen in the chapter after we go.”
Lorannon laughed his ever-quick laugh, casting a sly look from the next chair. “Rubbish. You just like having an excuse to hit those sneaky boys with practice sticks.”
Thursis laughed as well for Tobrey’s mock-cunning expression. “You do have a knack for dropping them in the dirt.”
“It’s all in the wrist action,” said Tobrey.
The two transients were obviously having an effect on Tobrey. Thursis grinned a bit wider.
“I enjoy the arbitration, myself,” he said. “Lord Maswy gives us a lot of leeway with his common law here, which is good. I think he actually appreciates what we do to keep the peace.”
“Cows,” said Lorannon darkly.
Thursis blinked. It really was hard catching up to all his little non-sequiturs. “Pardon?”
“It just always seems to boil down to cows. ‘Why are you two fighting?’ ‘He took my cow!’ ‘Why did you kill his dog?’ ‘Because it spooked my cow!’ ‘What’s this war about?’ ‘Cows!’”
“Ah, yes,” said Lukhin. “The Great Bovine Wars of the Midlands. Just ignore him; he runs out of breath eventually.”
“What about you?” asked Tobrey, grinning at his tone.
Lukhin looked thoughtful. Well, more thoughtful than usual; it was his default expression, after all. “I like seeing things change,” he said at last. “Even when it’s just by a fraction, and just for a little while. It’s harder to see that happen if you live in the one place.”
“Good answer,” agreed Thursis. Tobrey nodded as well.
“Lorannon?” he prompted after a reflective pause.
“Already told you,” came the reply. “The doths.”
“Lorannon.”
“Okay, fine. The uniform.”
“Is he always like this?”
“What? Don’t try to tell me you don’t love the sparkles.”