Sounded like a sucker's bet. 'Albert should've known better,' smiled Gruki, shaking her head, like she almost felt sorry for the guy. Oddly enough, she kind of did. 'Maybe we don't fleece our friends in future?' The she-ork suggested, shrugging slightly, the biscuit in her paw disappearing, only to be replaced by a thoughtful expression. Gruki smacked her lips.

Perhaps one more wouldn't hurt? She considered the box a moment. No, no, I shouldn't! Don't want to spoil lunch.

'Coffee or tea, I find both to be agreeable,' said Gruki, torn. 'Let's see what mood we're in when we get there. If not, we can always have some when we get back.' Maybe she could invite Roki and Arbok along to join them? Hels! Perhaps Syr Hector might even tag along too, if'n he'd the time to spare. Everyone seems so busy nowadays, she thought, boots thudding on a small footbridge that passed over a stream as clear as the sky above.

Saskia's voice snapped her back to the moment, and Gruki smiled, happy with the plan.

'Off to the markets we go!' She exclaimed, turning to withdraw a roll of withered parchment from her satchel at Saskia's question. 'Oh, this and that! Roki wants a copy of Weavers Weekly. Big surprise there,' she chuckled. 'Let's see... Pyp asked me to pick up a parcel from the Stagehouse. We can grab that on the way to the Bern.' Going through the list, Gruki shared what she could, excluding some personal details best kept to herself.
 
Saskia snickered, "Weaver's Weekly." She had purchased him a year's worth of subscription two Winter Solstices ago, and recalled how excited her friend had been that every issue would be delivered to him. It was quite whimsical to see the trained silverdoves fly to wherever Roki was every week, the birds larger than standard doves, and had a touch of shroud to them. She expected nothing less from Weaver's Weekly.

"Alright, well I have a few letters I hope has come in, so I will accompany you to the Stagehouse... what about the market? Anything on your list we can look out for there?" She only needed to look at fabrics, perhaps an innocent perusal of the haberdashery not far from the marketplace. They both had time to kill, and biscuits to flaunt to those they knew.

Her orkly friend had not made any peep about any market finds they needed to look out for.

"Oh! Gruks, do you think the fudge cart will be in today? I can flirt for a discount if Reed is manning the cart." Saskia waggled her brows. "You like fudge, don't you?"
 
What a silly question. 'Of course I do!' Fudge, cookies, cakes; treats worth having. In moderation, the she-ork was forced to remind herself, as she had a gazillion times before. 'Never mind a discount, Reed'll give us free samples, so long as you do the talking.' He was about the same age as them, after all. A bit on the skinny side for someone who tended a food cart day in, day out.

Figures the owner didn't allow him any free samples of his own, which was a shame.

Might buy him some, thought Gruki, realising how that kind of defeated the whole point. Oh well. 'I have a few odds and so-... uh, bobs to collect. Nothing that won't fit in my satchel or under my arm.' She did have big arms, perfect for holding and hugging, though the latter could wait until after lunch had been lunched.

Following the road into town, Gruki linked arms with Saskia as they trundled along, just two knights from the monastery, out for a jolly. Didn't matter that she had yet to pass her trials, or that the actual knight was nigh a head shorter.

Dancing hands and raised voices welcomed them to the markets, a hundred voices mixing together, drowning out the click and clatter of coin being exchanged, merchandise being moved. As it turned out, the fudge cart was in town -probably cause it never really left- and, as it turned out, Reed was the one manning it. He spotted Gruki at exactly the same time she spotted him. Almost like he'd been waiting for them.

Or Saskia.
 
"I will have my arms free to help hold anything should you need me to. The textiles will be delivered at the Monastery for me. It would be too much to lug back home." She had done so once before, and swore to herself to never do such a thing again. Another time she tried to use her shadows to help take things home, but she may as well have asked drunken friends too deep in their cups to have helped. The shadows were too willowy, not as strong in the daylight.

Her eyes fell to the fudge stand almost immediately. Her smile broke free, spying that Reed was indeed manning the small shop, but her smile grew wider as she gasped loudly.

"Oh! They have the caramel fudge today!" Free sample or not, Saskia was taking a large chunk of that back with them today. She always asked for extra wrapping in order to keep her from snacking away at it.

"Saskia! Gruki!" Reed waved them over, and of course his eyes kept gravitating towards Saskia who only had eyes on the display of fudges on sale today. "Nice day for it, ain't it?"

Saskia lifted her gaze from fudge to the chocolate brown eyes Reed possessed. "Anything new today?"

Reed held up a finger and turned around, fumbling around the boxes before picking two out. "We have a biscuit crumbed fudge and a lemon and cream fudge."

"Lemon!" Saskia exclaimed, peering inside the box of samples. "Don't mind if I do..."
 
'What're friends for!' Gruki smiled, all teeth and easy charm. An extra pair of hands might just come in handy, and Saskia's were about as steady as... well, anyone's, really. 'Caramel fudge to go with the caramel biscuits? Sure, why not!'

Saskia's excitement was hard to match, but Gruki tried her best, a hand raised in greeting as Reed welcomed them to the stand.

'Yes, it is a nice day,' the she-ork agreed, hands folded behind her back as she perused the confectionaries on display, allowing Sassy to work her magic uninterrupted. As she had predicted, Reed didn't require much convincing. The selection wasn't half-bad either.

'I'll take some of the vanilla, please!' Everyone had their preferences, and she was no different. 'Some of the lemon, too. Keeps Syr Kerraelas happy.'

'Oh, really?' Reed's eyes widened a fraction, as if he didn't know already. 'Just so happens we've a deal on those today. Meaning, uh, you lovely ladies get more for less, yes?!' Reed grinned, clapping his hands together, like an overexcited salesman practising his latest spiel. He stared at Saskia as he said it. Gruki fought hard to keep the grin from her face.

'Told you,' she whispered softly in Saskia's ear as Reed went about bagging the fudge.
 
Saskia only had enough time to stick her tongue out at Gruki for her I told you so before Reed turned back to them (Saskia) and made an expression of waiting for their (Saskia's) lemon fudge order.

Never had Saskia thought anyone was silly enough to fall for her terrible flirting.

"Oh! Well..." She had taken a peak into the sample box, and saw the lemon and other treats. Saskia was feeling a little guilty now, now that Reed knew her favourite. That was more than enough lemon samples. "Maybe... I will catch the lemon fudge special price next time! You'll be sure to tell me, won't you?" Came the polite smile.

"You could... actually.... if you wanted to..." Reed reached out a hand, placing it atop Saskia's that held the fudge box gently. She froze, her eyes widening like a deer sensing trouble. It took a lot for Saskia to not look away and give Gruki the help me eyes. "Meet me tonight for dinner? My treat! As in, I will pay! Not, ha, the fudge! No, a real dinner! Here in Astenvale, or I could come by to you at the Monastery and dine with you?"

"The... they, um, don't serve food at the monastery." Saskia panicked her way through an excuse, a lie.

The pit of guilt grew deeper inside her when she saw Reed smile.

"Then you are free to come here to town for dinner! Perfect!"

"Gruki? Didn't you say we had that... thing tonight? Training, boring lessons..."
 
'Huh? What thing?' Blinking, Gruki watched the scene unfold, just as shocked as Saskia was to see Reed taking the lead for a change. But then you reap what you sow, mused the she-ork, sensing an opportunity to tease the Dusk Knight further.

'I don't think we do have any training, syr, nor any lessons.'

What more did a knight stand to learn save those lessons taught upon the Road? Smiling, Gruki turned to Reed -who was still staring at Saskia- and nodded. 'I'm sure Syr Kerraelas would love to- oh, wait!' The she-ork's eyes widened suddenly, as if remembering something. 'We do have that briefing tonight, the one scheduled for the sixth bell.' As far as Gruki knew, that was when supper was served. But Reed didn't need to know that.

'Alas, there'd be hell to pay if we missed it!' Painting on an apology, Gruki sighed, bowing her head ever so slightly. 'Very sorry, Reed, but I'm afraid I can't let you have Saskia this evening. As her squire, I must insist she return to the monastery. For the time being, at least.'

And a date with you would likely reduce her to a nervous wreck, thought Gruki, keeping her opinion under lock and key. Her gaze swivelled to the dusker. Assuming she's not one already.
 
Sweet, sweet Gruki.

How could Saskia fault the lovely she-ork? Have asked her to lie on her behalf in order of simply securing free sweet treats? That sweet Gruki did not hear the plea in Saskia's voice, and shot down the excuse the Shadow Knight offered up.

That Saskia felt something dreadful weigh inside her, horrified and panicked. Her mind began to race, lips opening and closing as a new excuse was quickly being built up on her tongue, but alas, Gruki saw sense.

Inside, Saskia was screeching to the high heavens, perched on the precipice of somewhere dangerously towering over the world. it was there she wanted to scream and fall gracefully into mortification.

Sweet, sweet Gruki.

That little heart attack cost the she-ork a biscuit.

"That's it! Goodness, imagine if I got that wrong!" Saskia recovered, trying to play up her nerves instead of letting her relief filter through.

"Then I will see you at the eight bell! I don't mind!" Reed insisted.

"Oh.. I don't think..." And the lad was too excited and cheerful at the prospect. "Alright!" Her voice rose several octaves, and her smile was strained. "I will... see you then..."

Only after Saskia and Gruki turned away to continue into the market did her face sour into a grimace. "I guess this is the consequence of flirting. It was bound to bite me in the arse eventually." She lifted the box of fudge samples. Sighed. "Worth it..."
 
Gruki shrugged a what can you do? 'Play games, win prizes.' Reed wasn't much to look at. But then he wasn't hard to look at neither. 'He has a kind heart... and good taste,' the she-ork reassured her friend, throwing an arm around her shoulders as they walked. Squeezed.

'It's just a date, Sassy! Not like you promised your hand in marriage!'

Although, he does like her. A LOT. The thought made Gruki feel strange, though she wasn't sure why. Romance had never been her thing. Probably because she'd yet to meet Mister- or Missus Right. 'Guess we'd better skip the Bern, if you're going out for dinner.' Gruki smiled, her warm gaze settling upon Saskia a moment, before sweeping the crowd around them. Shawls, skirts, tunics. Maybe I should acquire some new threads while we're in town. Would spare her a trip.

'What're you gonna wear? T-tonight, I mean.' It had been a warm day so far. No hint of cloud or rain. No doubt the weather would hold into the evening. 'Don't forget the Shimmersilk merchant's in town.' Costly, but if it helped Saskia achieve happiness...
 
"Saints and shadows, Gruki, we are not skipping Bern's. I very well need a fucking drink now." Saskia snapped, the sort of snapping that came with being on the losing end of a bet. "I may need several." The Shadow Knight sighed dramatically, face turning to pout.

But the thought of Shimmersilk brought some sunshine to her rain clouds.

"I will wear exactly what I am wearing now." Nothing clean or fancy. It had been some time since she felt like dressing up for a man or any other date. If it was for a public event like the Brewfest or the Himbo Festival, where Saskia could show off, then she would.

Saskia slowed her pace, a thought of an idea crossing her mind. She had thought firstly, oh no, let's not poke a bear, but if she had been too nice to truly shoot down Reed... perhaps she needed an aiding hand.

"Oh, I think I have an evil idea. It may cost more than going on a date with Reed, but I think if this goes well, it would be worth shining the armour or whatever punishment Syr Cathmore thinks of." The wicked glee returned to Sas' face. "Come now Gruki, my mood has renewed."

Just like that.

"Next stop! Where to, my delightful friend?"
 
It was a hard thing, fighting the urge to laugh. 'Okay, okay!' Gruki's shoulders shook as she held her laughter at bay. 'We'll still go to the Bern, I promise.' Perhaps it would give them a chance to commiserate Saskia's shameful defeat. 'Honestly, the lengths you- I mean, we go to for fudge.' Beggared belief. Almost, but not quite.

Then came talk of ideas, and Gruki's brows rose, serenity shifting to curiousity. Or perhaps suspicion.

'Oh? Tell me more!' Memories flashed across her mind's eye like a bad screenplay. Times when Saskia's "brilliant ideas" had backfired dramatically. Not to mention traumatically. 'Please, whatever it is, don't go drawing the eye of Syr Wrathmore. You know what happened the last time we... well, y'know.' Trouble had a name, and that name was Saskia Kerraelas. All being said, Gruki wouldn't have been much of a squire if she didn't stand by her knights.

'Next stop, the stagehouse! I can grab everything on the list, then we can cut back through the markets to the Bern, seeing as you need a drink.' She'd said several, but it usually only took her two or three to settle. Any more and she'd start getting worked up again, though for entirely different reasons.
 
It turns out that Saskia needed to think more on her plan. Gruki was right, that Monroe certainly had a name that could easily be adapted to a new nickname, but Grump and Wrath were quite fitting. This plan had to be excellent, and Saskia knew that being partnered to the grumpiest Knight of Dawn did not give her an advantage. Once she had a drink in hand, perhaps she could map out the plan to Gruki.

"Alright, the stagehouse!" Saskia felt confident in her idea. They had the whole day before crunch time would come around.

Astenvale was a town they both knew well, and when the road they would usually take looked too full of traffic and slow movement, the Shadow Knight and the she-ork cut through some lanes and alleys to get to where they needed. This path was too narrow for carts or wagons, and made it that much quicker for anyone on foot to get through the town.

"Do you think Arnold's oxen decided to lay down in the middle of the street again, and that is why things were moving slowly on the main street?" She mused once they walked out from a lane and into the open and not-so-busy street.
 
Gruki thought on it a moment, then shook her head. 'I don't think so, considering how embarrassed he was last time they held up half the town,' the she-ork smiled, recalling how red in the face poor ole Arnold had gotten when the bailiff's men had told him of the disturbance. How such lumbering creatures had managed to give him the slip in the first place was anyone's guess.

'Bet a bronze piece he was busy sating his thirst at the Bern,' she grinned, a hand coming up to shield her eyes as they strode out into the open once more. 'Mind you, it's a fair plod from there to here. Maybe he went to the Crown instead?'

There weren't many taverns in Astenvale, but that wasn't to say there weren't options. Gruki preferred the Bern cause it was closer to the monastery. And she was friends with the proprietor's daughter, Friederike.

'I hear poor Arnold's been quite ill, as of late. I'll have to make a point of visiting him sometime.'

Time took its toll on everything, 'cept maybe elves. Even the half-breeds aged more gracefully than their human counterparts, though, Gruki sometimes wondered if it would be the same for half-orkin. Hopefully, I'll take more after my mother, she smiled wanly, ignoring the way her heart ached inside her chest.

'Ah! There's the stagehouse!'

Holding onto Saskia's arm, Gruki waited patiently for a carriage to roll past, before letting the young dusker run free.
 
Saskia grew quiet hearing about Arnold's health. She had come to know almost everyone that dwelled in Astenvale, as in her younger years, she had been a right menace and her name was called out in frustration when one of her pranks were successful.

Astenvale became her home and family, and even if she still had many years to see...

The stagehouse. She perked up, grateful that they were nearing it. Saskia had put up with enough sadness in her dark mind for too long, and in this moment now, she was ready to bound forward. Of course, she failed in such an endeavour, when before her eyes a carriage came out of nowhere.

Looking down at her arm, she saw Gruki's hand holding her back. Saskia met her gaze sheepishly. "You know me so well."


Although a carriage clipping her face would be a worthy excuse to get out of her dinner date tonight, it certainly would not be pleasant getting a drink at the Bern.

When it was safe to cross over to the stagehouse, she felt her arm be released and Saskia moved. She darted and sidestepped anyone who got in her way, and in the last few feet made a sound of annoyance at a hen that kept blocking her way as she tried to step around it.

"Pesky! Don't make me roast you for dinner!"

"Are you yelling at Omelette?" Laughed Lawson.

"Yes," grumbled Saskia. "I am in a sort of mood."

Lawson looked up at Gruki, grinning wider. "Who pissed in her gruel this morning?" He asked as he turned back to getting a horse ready for carting goods.
 
'Aye, I do.' Saskia had always been quick on her feet. So quick, in fact, that they sometimes outpaced her. Into trouble, and out of it. Smiling as she watched her friend hurry away, Gruki glanced left and right before following suit. Folk made way at her passing. Some even acknowledged her with warmth and waves.

'Wasn't me,' she replied, sidling up alongside Lawson as Saskia gave battle to the stagehouse's mascot, Omelette. 'The list of suspects is about as long as my arm, and I never was much good at guessing.'

Grinning, Gruki turned to face Lawson, hand disappearing inside her satchel, only to reappear holding a scroll. 'For you!'

'Oh? What's this?' The she-ork rolled her eyes as Lawson took the scroll, unfurled it. 'I see, I see... Drew the short straw again, did you?' Chuckling, the man eyed her, his honey-hued gaze full of amusement as he continued, saying, 'Wait here while I fetch your items.'

'And keep an eye on Omelette!' Lawson called out, disappearing inside the stagehouse.

'Okay!' Hands on hips, Gruki blew at a strand of red hair draped across her vision, bangs misbehaving in the breeze. 'Careful, Sas!' She warned, finding herself an empty, driverless wagon to lean against. 'Omelette'll peck your ankles clean off if you keep getting in her space.' Or was it the other way around? Hard to say with temperamental hens.
 
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