Gruki

Gruki

The Sun
It was market day in Astenvale village. The sun was shining, the skies were clear, and the taverns were packed with all sorts of folk. Travellers, mostly. Merchantmen from aboard, strangers from the surrounding villages- Gruki recognised a number of faces in the Bern and Barley, though she had yet to put names to them, preoccupied as she was.

'Perhaps we should try Tam's,' the big squire suggested, turning to where her companions stood blocking the doorway. 'She always keeps a few seats spare for knights. Well. Sometimes.'

They had been on the road for awhile. A month or so. Long enough to start dreaming of soft beds and lukewarm pints. Gruki had enjoyed her time away from the monastery, all told, but even she was beginning to grow tired. The saddle sores didn't help. 'Maybe, maybe.' Scritching his chin thoughtfully, Syr Gruber sighed, waved a dismissive wave, as if to say he had given up. But then he grinned his devil's grin. Uh-oh. 'Hows about we skip this joint and make our own venue, eh?' He suggested. 'We've still got some dry firewood and provisions left over, haven't we, Gruki? Only, as I recall, we ran out of wine not two days past.'

His eyes glimmered and glinted as he tossed something to her. Gruki caught it mid-air, her gloved fist clamping shut like a steel trap.

'Be a good squire and get our skins refilled, then, come find us. We won't wander far.' Turning on his heel, Syr Gruber stomped out, leaving a thoroughly bemused Syr Jarro in his wake. 'Guy loves it when a plan comes together,' the wood-elf mused, holding out two empty skins. 'Especially when he knowingly leaves a squire in the lurch.' He smiled.

'Oh?' Gruki asked. 'What do you...'

Pausing, she unfurled her hand. A copper piece sat in her upturned palm; square, edges chipped. An old currency, but still a valid one. Though not nearly enough to pay for three wineskins, she frowned, understanding dawning on her face. 'It's okay, syr. I'll pay-' Jarro silenced her with a gesture. 'You'll do no such thing, lass,' he said, entrusting her with a few coins of his own. 'That should be enough to keep ol' Fruman happy. If not, well, let him know to put the rest on Syr Gruber's tab,' he grinned, before slipping away into the cold afternoon.

The door banged closed.

Right. Glancing around, Gruki strode across the common room towards the bar. Old Fruman -Gruki usually just referred to him by his job title- was nowhere to be found. But his son, Albert, and his daughter, Friederike, were both out front, working the taps and keeping their patrons happy. Or just drunk.

'As I live and breathe... Gruki!' Smiling, the younger of the two siblings welcomed her with such genuine delight that Gruki found herself disarmed in an instant. Which, she supposed, was just how they made sure their regulars stick around. 'Friede', Bert, how's... um, life?'

'Oh, better now you're here, friend. Much better!' Nodding, Albert shared his sister's smile as he turned his attention upon the squire. 'How's things with you? Those knights o' yours still makin' you do all the legwork?' Coins clinked, changed hands. Slipping them into his apron, he gestured Gruki closer. Regulars and not-regulars made way for the squire. Big as she was, most assumed it was the safe thing to do.

Smiling, Gruki stepped up to the bar, one foot on the rail as she leaned in.

'It's not so bad, really.' If anything, she was used to such menial tasks. It was all part and parcel of becoming a knight. A little humility goes a long way, she thought, setting the empty skins down gently. Albert nodded. They had done this before. 'See the market's attracted quite a few newcomers.' Gruki observed. 'Have any of my brethren stopped by to pay homage yet, or am I the first?'

Friederike thought on it some as she poured beer into a wooden stein.

'Hmm. Now that you mention it...'
 
A sudden and loud thudding came from the window.

Then it came again just to really get everyone's attention.

Arbok, sweating and huffing from her run from the stables in her work duds (after hearing that Gruki had returned when she had at last returned with the feed) out of breath and smiling wider than she had in weeks.

"GRUKI!! YOU'RE HOME!"
Her voice was slightly muted behind the glass.


"HI!!"


@Gruki
 
The Bern and Barley fell silent at the incessant tapping. So quiet you could hear a pin drop. Turning at the sound of her name, Gruki sighed, a sheepish smile forming on her face as she recognised the figure standing beyond the pane. Though, stooping may have been more accurate.

'Friend o' yours?' Albert asked, hiding a smirk behind a well-timed sneeze.

'I, uh, yes... something like that.' Rubbing at the back of her neck, the she-orc found the time and energy to wave at Arbok, her cheeks colouring from embarrassment. 'That wine ready yet?' Turning her attention back to the siblings, she placed a half-dozen copper pieces down on the bar in front of her. 'I would prefer not having to pay for a new window.'

'Yes, yes, keep yer hair on!' Filling and stoppering the wineskins one by one, Albert nodded, handing each back in turn. The coin disappeared soon after. 'Enjoy yerself, Gruki, and give my regards t' that brother o' yours, when y'see him.'

'I will.'

With a bow and a smile, Gruki backed away from the bar, turning quickly on her heel to find the door swinging open. Her eyes darted to the window to find Arbok still there. She waved again, beckoned her to follow.

Stepping out into the dry cold, Gruki let her feet lead her to meet her ursine friend. When the woman in question hove into view around the corner, the half-orkin threw her arms wide in welcome. 'Arbok! Hi!'

@Arbok
 
Arbok's embrace was like catching a boulder. She rocked her way into Gruki's arms and it felt so good to make that contact again she thought she might cry.
"I've missed youuuuuu!"
Her arms hugged hard and firm locked at Gruki's back not wanting to let go, it was as if all her love and worry for her had been in those arms and when she finally let her friend go she felt tired again.

"Let me look at you. Oh you were gone so long. It feels like the whole world has changed since you left."
She took a step back and took in her friend.
"You look great, the coast agrees with you."
The details were not given to Arbok, missions sometimes were just, outings and not all outings were missions. Regardless she was glad to have Gruki home again.

"Tell me everything. Has ole Gruber been working you hard?"
It was just a bit uncouth to speak of a Knight of the Order in that way but Arbok was so excited she had spoken without considering that he might be in earshot.

@Gruki
 
It was like running headlong into a wall. Of course, most walls didn't have thoughts or feelings or arms to hold you with. Nor did they have a voice as sweet as Arbok's. 'I've missed you, too!' Gruki laughed, reaching up on her tippy toes to give her bear-friend a hug. There were few people in the order that could match Gruki in height, let alone surpass her. Arbok was one of the special few.

Big, brawny, but soft at heart. Always full of energy, though, in the winter she tended to sleep in more.

Not that I blame her, the half-orkin mused, drawing her travelling cloak tight about her shoulders as a cold wind blew. 'Oh, don't be so dramatic!' She chuckled lightly. 'Thank you. Wrong time of year for a dip in the ocean, but I like to think the sea air did me some good.'

Theirs had been a diplomatic mission. Less sightseeing, lots of yapping. Gruki had learnt to stop counting the number of tourneys and banquets their band had been invited to during their tour of Altalusia's eastern provinces. After awhile, they had all started to lose their appeal. She sighed.

'Syr Gruber is Syr Gruber,' she said, loath to speak ill of her knight, even if he was a bit of a hard-ass. And a skinflint to boot. 'I'll tell you all about it, promise. First, though, I'd like to hear how you've been getting on,' she started walking. 'Been keeping busy?'

@Arbok
 
"Me? Oh I've been good."

A bit less than good.

"I'm going south for recon in the free cities. Just to keep an eye, report, letters... all the things I love!"
Her smile said it all but Gruki would not even need that. It was no secret that Arbok did not enjoy letters or recon, or hot weather but still she did her best to brave it.
"It's gonna be for a month but it takes near that time to get there so it'll three probably until I'm back."
Speak on it deflated her somewhat. She did not really want to go in the first place but now that Gruki had returned she was feeling crestfallen to be sent away. Then resilience filled her and bit her tongue and puffed out her cheeks.
Gruki was just back and she wasn't going to be all needy and pouty in front of her.

"Anyway, I leave in three days. Oh, Roki got taken to some tournament. Something about a volcano, it's in Suldaza somewhere I thing. He said to give you this!"
Careful to not shake the wine Arbok hooked her arms under Gruki's and lifted her a few inches off the ground in another hug. It wasn't far but she was one of the few who could do that much.
"He says he'll miss you and that he's sorry he's not here to greet you properly."
As she let Gruki down she backed up a bit never wishing to crowd anyone though Gruki seldom seemed to mind.

@Gruki
 
'Reconnaissance? In the Free Cities?' Gruki could hardly believe it. 'Seems an awful long way to go "just to keep an eye on things". I hope you don't get into too much trouble down there.' She had heard horror stories about Shroud Fiends prowling the coast, and haunting the Southern Mheara. Not to mention talk of devastation along the Arshakan border.

Taking a deep breath, Gruki composed herself. Arbok was a big girl -in more ways than one- and she could take care of herself. And they would be sending knights with her, obviously. She would be safe.

Relatively speaking.

'My brother... something about volcanoes?' That didn't sound good. The last time Roki had played with fire, so to speak, he had ended up causing more harm than good. Gruki knew it wasn't his fault; her baby brother didn't have a bad bone in his body, and everyone made mistakes. Still, I hope he's okay. Suldaza was even further away than the Free Cities. An entire ocean lay between Suldaza and Ilica, and Roki had never been a particularly strong swimmer despite his affinity with the elements.

Before her thoughts could fester, Gruki found herself drawn into another hug. Or rather lifted.

'T-thanks! Thank you, Arbok.' Giving her friend a reassuring pat on the back to show she was okay, the half-orkin waited for Arbok to put her down. Feigning a cough, she turned away, her face warming as she noticed passersby looking their way.

'We should probably get going, b-before Syr Gruber starts wandering where I've gotten to. Syr Jarro can only keep him entertained for so long, after all.' Smiling, she linked arms with her bear-friend, led her towards the road leading to the monastery. 'That looks like them up ahead,' she said, pointing to where a campfire blazed beside the road. 'Join us for some wine?'

@Arbok
 
"Oh uh,"
Arbok looked down at herself, she was a state. Her work clothes were stuck with bits of feed and muck.
"I don't know if that's such a good idea."
People were looking at them sure but that was just what happened when you towered over others, people could not help but see you. That did not bother her, what bothered her was the idea that Syr Gruber might think her underdressed. The last thing she needed was to make any bad impressions before a mission.
Struggling to pass it off as anything else just left her fidgeting in thought with her hair, trying to smooth it down from its typical unruly behaviour but when she looked at Gruki she felt better, a bit more sure and she felt a deep want of Gruki's own sense of certainty then.
"Are you sure they won't mind?"
It was happening now whether she wanted it or not, best to just go with it.

@Gruki
 
Breaking through thick brush, those cold and tired branches of old guardian alders, she saw what could’ve only been edge of town. Buildings, a bustle of people and and a broad road upon which shapes traveled like a funeral procession, hunched against the crispy air of a clear winter’s day. The blinding sunlight made it all shimmer, lending the scenery opening before her a dreamlike, hazy quality.

It was such a wonderful sight she could’ve cried.

“ My thanks. And farewell. “ She clapped the tree next to her on the rough trunk in parting and launched away, taking the little path belongst to deer and other forestfolk down the slope. The hems of her dark, nigh black robes caught on myriad little grasses and stems of dead wildflowers on her way but she kept pace, a new fire in every weary muscle. By the time she came to the road, leaping over the last ditch was no feat at all, though she managed it so gracelessly she may as well have fallen in. It wasn’t so much an elk’s mighty jump, like she’d meant, but that of a fawn still unused to its legs.

None looked at her as she scrambled up, rose and dusted herself off, a deep breath expanding her chest. The small pack about her shoulder gave a dejected frump as she adjusted it, its contents having drained to a mere changed of underclothes and some choice necessities. Walking on towards town, she pinched the edges of her veil together beneath her chin to keep the wind out, though it exposed her gloveless hand in turn. The skin in her knuckles was raw, crackled and peeling. Was this the suffering she’d been told befitted her?

There were men, holding camp by the road. And therein was one of the first people who’d meet her look and not instantly turn it away. He seemed to almost question her, their stares lingering. She probably looked miserable, but tried to smile.

“ Pardon me— “ She started and instantly paused to clear her throat, tongue working as she willed life to her dry mouth. The fire called out, tantalizing, but she restrained her will to properly approach it, resulting to a modest distance wherein she’d halt to stand.

“ Is this Astenvale? “ She continued finally, almost desperately as her look took in the town, her hands clasping one another. It was like rubbing two pieces of old, flaking leather together.

“ I’ve never— Been. “

And the forest respects no names given by mortals. What it doesn't know it cannot give.
 
'I'm sure, so how about you stop worrying and relax. It's not like Syr Gruber's going to turn you away when you show up, wine in hand.' Smiling, Gruki pressed one of the refilled skins into Arbok's hand, winked like she knew what she was doing.

Syr Jarro certainly did.

Sat cross-legged upon the dry earth, his back to the woods ringing Astenvale proper, he was the first to sense the stranger's presence. Ears sharp as daggers picked up the snapping of branches and the huff of heavy breaths forced from toiling lungs. Looking over his shoulder, he hesitated to interrupt his dawn-brother's ramblings, focused instead on the trees, nature's voice therein.

Syr Gruber's jaw stopped flapping long enough for him to notice Jarro's gaze wandering the woods. His own eyes widened in surprise as a woman stumbled from the thick undergrowth, looking much the worse for wear, though fortunately unhurt.

'Wha-... who-'

'You're on the right path, lady. Astenvale is a few short steps further on, to the left, there.' Kind eyes studied the stranger, wary, but not unwelcoming. 'Before you head into town, how about a moment's rest? Our humble camp might not offer much in the way of comfort, but it's safe, and we've wine and vittles to share should you require them.' Syr Jarro smiled, gestured to the ground beside him.

'Uh, aye,' grumbled Gruber, hurrying to catch up. 'You may join us. No offense, but you look like ye've been dragged through a hedge backwards, and not a particularly nice one at that.'

Down the road, not fifty meters distant, Gruki jutted her chin towards the camp.

'Who do you reckon that is?' She asked Arbok, hands overlapping atop her sword's pommel as she swaggered along, curious as the cat that got killed. 'She looks like me only... fairer. Shorter. I like what she's done with her hair.'

@Arbok @Ronja
 
Squinting her whole face to get a better look against the bright sun Arbok tried to make out the shape. She never had very sharp eyes though she could make out three figures, one of them in unfamiliar coloured garb. Of Gruki's description, it meant little to her other than she was green of skin so of the same folk.
"No idea, maybe she has a message?"
Tentatively she sniffed the air. No blood, so that was good. Generally it was a good idea to avoid those came from nowhere smelling like blood. the faint whiff of incense lingered about the stranger which only became apparent as they got closer, it was very faint.
"A priest?"
She whispered to Gruki almost reverently. The Gods servants were often remarkable to Arbok, their talk of greatness was awe inspiring and not always in a good way. Some of the stories were down right terrifying so Arbok, still clutching the wineskin began to hold it a little tighter to herself in an expression of resolve she did not quite believe.

"Hi guys! I mean, Syr's"
She bit her tongue in chastisement.
*Great start Arby!*

@Gruki @Ronja
 
Wine and— vittles?

She smiled at the offer, the expression widening as another of the men pointed out her sorry appearance. Though it hurt to laugh, the cold wind having whipped the peaks of her cheeks red, she did anyway.

“ Your eyes are keen, Sir. “ Ronja remarked, approaching the fire with as much restrained grace as she could, resisting the warmth and its sweet call. “ It was not a nice hedge. In my hubris I’d thought my acquaintance with the woodland would’ve been closer, more tender, but alas— “

She slipped the pack off her shoulder and sat down carefully upon the spot she’d been gestured to earlier, folding her skirts beneath her knees.

“ Years apart make us forget. Each other and then some. “
 
Smirking, Gruki gave Arbok's shoulder a comforting pat, her amusement shared by the knights, and perhaps the stranger, too? 'Wise words from a wise woman,' rumbled Gruber, holding his hands over the flames as a chill wind blew through their wayside camp. 'Y'have the look o' one, if you don't mind me sayin'. The robes and one's, uh, proximity to nature bein' the giveaway.'

Shaking his head, Jarro smiled as the stranger made herself comfortable.

'Forgive us, lady. My friend here likes to make assumptions. In fact, I dare go so far as to say it's one of his favoured pastimes, despite the trouble it sometimes lands him in.' Grinning, the wood-elf turned away briefly to greet the squires, acknowledging Arbok with a welcoming nod. 'Did you bring the wine?' He asked, eyes flitting to Gruki before Gruber could interject. 'We did,' she replied, offering him his wineskin.

She had given Syr Gruber's to Arbok. The dwarf eyed her expectantly.

'Um, so, not to be rude, but aren't you going to introduce us, syr?' Glancing from Jarro to the stranger, Gruki allowed herself a small smile, hand raised in quiet greeting. 'Y-yes, of course. Where are our manners?' Clearing his throat -a clear hint if ever she had heard one- Syr Gruber puffed out his chest, like a King addressing his court.

'Squire Gruki. Squire Arbok. Allow me to introduce... to introduce,' he cussed, slapped his knee, as if something had slipped his mind. 'My apologies, lady. We didnae ask your name.'

@Arbok @Ronja
 
It took Arbok a moment to get the silent hint.
"Oh sorry, Here you go Syr Gruber!"
Handing the wine to Syr Gruber Arbok was thankfully able to contain her nerves. She had been staring at the stranger, she was so, elegant in manners and speech.
Still there was some comfort in finding that for once Arbok was not the solely grubby looking one.

Taking her lead from Gruki she deigned to stand instead of sit, despite the ache in her legs from running all the way from the Monastery.
Stamina was not her problem but since her injury she found pain came easier and lasted longer.
As her name was mentioned she waved at the newcomer and gave a wide smile with her eyes closed. Only after did she feel that perhaps that was a bit childish and silently chastised herself again.
Nobody else was waving after all.


@Gruki @Ronja
 
She hummed her light amusement at the men’s exchange, gaze downcast lest she blush at the flattery. How strange it was, to be called wise — even if as just an assumption elicited by mere minutes’ acquaintance. Still, she smiled a little wider for it, making her point to meet eyes with Syr Gruber as if in thanks once his elven companion wasn’t watching, distracted by something.

Someones new, approaching. And wine. Cradling her hands before her chest, Ronja merely observed the lot of them with undivided interest, the fire in her eyes and a tired warmth in her expression. Gruki. Arbok. Her attention marked on both in turn, her right hand rising to meet their greetings with one of her own. A little wave of the fingers, an air of coy mischief about her.

“ And neither did I remember to ask yours. Forgive me, Syrs, as upon the road the exchange of names isn’t always a given. “ A comforting anonymity, one had to figure. Should she have preferred such a thing?

“ You can call me Ronja. Or lady, as you already have thus far. “ She tilted her head cheerfully, the dark veil brushing the side of her face. “ Not that I hold any actual titles, like yourselves. “
 
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