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When the inn finally closed Rone bid his farewells and told Craiger, he hoped they would meet again, then retired to his room. Traijen stumbled out the door and went to wherever he stayed when he was in the city, a mystery that even after all these years, Rone had never discovered the answer to.

Craiger also said farewell and returned to where ever he and his father were staying, but not before buying one last bottle of ale for the road.

13

The next morning Rone awoke with the kind of a headache that only comes from too much drinking. He made his way downstairs and sat down to order breakfast. Feral barely had time to bring it out to him when Traijen came in and sat down as well.

Rone could tell he was not the only one feeling the effects of the previous night's alcohol, as Traijen barely spoke a word before diving into the hot cup of coffee Feral had sat down for him. The two friends were content to suffer in their silence until the door to the inn opened again and in walked Trisha.

Traijen didn’t have to ask if this was the initiate they were waiting for, as her elegant gown and the Crimson sash all mages of the tower wear, told him she was.

Only a mage would wear a pricey gown to start an adventure in. Most had no clue what the wilds and forests were like or the fact that their fancy well to do clothing wouldn’t last a day in thick brush. He smiled and nudged Rone tilting his head towards the door.

Rone, upon seeing what she was wearing, shook his head and stood up to greet her.

“Please tell me you have something else to wear for our trip?” He asked, looking her up and down. He could not deny the gown was flattering to her body, and its midnight blue coloring stood in sharp contrast to her fiery red hair and deep green eyes. Making her far more appealing than he would like to admit.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” She asked, looking down at herself.

“I am a mage of the Crimson Tower and a member of the order of the wand. My appearance should reflect those things.” She said, looking angry.

“You’re going on a quest to god knows where, and that dress will look like a beggar's rags within a day of forest travel. Have you never been to a forest before?” Rone asked agitated at her privileged response.

“Well, no, but I’ve read many tales of other adventures in the wilds. None said anything about needing certain clothing for it.” She added defiantly.

Traijen smiled and slapped Rone on the back of the shoulder before leaning in towards Trisha,

“That’s because they assumed it was common sense to know these things, honey.” He said with a smile.

“And who might you be?” She asked Traijen angrily.

Ranger, you were supposed to keep our quest a secret, what part of tell know one did you not understand? And a rogue at that? Are you hoping the Heart is stolen from us?”

Her sarcastic tone and demeaning nature towards Traijen only succeeded in angering Rone more.

“You need to understand something mage, this is my mission, my quest. We will do this my way or not at all. Traijen is my friend, and I trust him a hell of a lot more than I do you. You would do well to remember that, as it might very well be him that saves your life should things go badly. Because as of right now, I’m struggling to find a reason to bother myself.”

Traijen smiled at Rone’s defense of his honor, then sat back down on his chair at the counter and looked at Trisha.

“Before we go anywhere, we need to stop by the tailors and get you some suitable clothes.”

Tisha being surprised by Rones angry outburst just looked down at the floor in embarrassment,

“I do not have any money,” She said rather softly.

“The tower provides all we need while we are there, I honestly did not know this would not be fit for our journey.” All her bravado and pretentious pandering were now gone, replaced with an almost childlike demeanor that made Rone feel sorry for raising his voice at her.

Even Traijen felt a tinge of guilt at her pitiful reply.

“Never worry, dear, being a rogue does have some advantages. I will cover the costs of your new attire.” Trisha smiled shyly at him then took a seat at the counter. Rone motioned for Feral to bring her whatever she wanted, and the three reluctant companions finished their breakfast in silence.

After their meal, they headed into the streets to find a local tailor, and within the hour, Trisha had been refitted with more suitable traveling clothes.

Replacing her eloquent gown with soft leather pants, a buckskin tunic, and leather boots that stopped just below her knees.

The black leather of the pants seemed to fit her form perfectly, while the red boots and tunic only enhanced the appeal of her fiery red hair and pale skin. As much as Rone hated to admit it, she was even more beautiful dressed like this than she was before.

As the tailor finished his final adjustments on her new clothes, Traijen leaned towards Rone and whispered in his ear.

“I’ll give you credit Rone; you sure know how to pick a traveling companion. Just do me a favor and let me bring up the rear, would you?” He asked with a nod towards Trisha while her back was turned towards them.

Rone just shook his head as Traijen moved to pay the tailor.

“There now, you have the look of a genuine adventurer,” Traijen told her with a smile. The sincerity of his words made Trisha blush, but she just smiled and said thank you as she stood looking at herself in front of the mirror.

“Now, to see about a weapon,” Rone added as they started for the door.

“That I have covered.” She said, producing a small wood-handled penknife from her pack.

“And a fine one it is,” Traijen said with a smile.

“But you should carry some type of steel as well. Never know when it would come in handy.”

The look she gave him showed her distaste for the idea of using such a weapon.

“I’ve never used a weapon like that in my life,” She said with a frown.

“Well then, it’s a good thing you have me to teach you how,” Traijen said, whirling one of his own daggers in a show of skill.

Trisha smiled, but the look she gave Rone told him the thought made her uncomfortable.

“What about Craiger? The half-Orc we met last night. Didn’t he say his father was a master smith? We might get a good deal on a weapon from him.”

“Good idea, he was a friendly enough sort, for a HoloSpawn,” Traijen said with a smile. Rone shot him a dirty look to remind him how much he hated the elven names for half-bloods, then they hurried through the streets to the main square.

That is where most traveling vendors and smiths would apply their trade to the public, and it didn’t take long to spot the big man. Who standing beside his dwarven father, only made him appear even more massive.

As they approached, he smiled and nudged his father.

“These are the ones from the inn father, the ones I told you about.

“I remember boy,” the stocky dwarf said dismissively.

“He didn’t tell me you had DokalFae blood though,” The dwarf said, eyeing Rone suspiciously.

“Does it matter?” Rone asked.

“Not to me, and as long as ye ain't trying to hoodoo me, boy, here, we’ll have no problems.” Trish eyed the dwarf curiously then looked back at Rone.

“How did you know he had dark-elf blood?”

“Easy girl, I’m a dwarf. We can smell them, cave divers, a mile away. My kin has been butting heads with their kind nearly since the first dwarves sprang up from the stone.

Well, that and the fact it’s mighty hard to hide them yellow eyes. Never seen anyone but them grey-skinned devils with eyes that color.”