"You better hurry if you want to catch the fair. Don't forget to trade my furs to Galen."
Alysanna hummed a response to her foster father as she ducked to peek out the window for Bevil and Amie once more.
"Alysanna, are you listening to me?"
"Huh? Ow!" As she turned, the six-foot tall woman's head smacked a wood panel from the roof. Daeghun's stoic face betrayed no concern as she rubbed the back of her head. "Yeah, I know. Furs. Galen."
"I will see you at the archery competition." As the moon elf reached for the door, a solid knock came from the other side. Sunlight poured in from behind two human figures, one as tall and stocky as Alysanna herself, the other shorter, and more curvy.
"It's nice to see you again, Farlong." The man, Bevil, said, with too much excitement.
Daeghun gave him a polite smile. "Bevil. Amie. Excuse me." Daeghun said as he walked past them, out towards the village.
Alysanna grabbed the bundled up furs by the leather strap that held them together. Amie's posture deflated as Daeghun vanished out of earshot and she stepped into the house and she shivered. "He gives me the creeps."
Alysanna grinned as she tied the furs to her belt, draping them just so the gleam of her battle axe was hidden beneath.
"Aly, you can't take weapons to the fair." Bevil gestured to her belt, half amused.
"Why not? Amie gets to take her magic."
"That's not the same, and you know it." Amie chimed in.
"Yeah, we got our fists. Without her magic she'd blow away like a dead leaf in the wind." Bevil smirked. Amie whisked a stray golden bang out of her eye and punched Bevil on the arm.
Alysanna rolled her eyes. "Let's go, we're burning daylight." She locked up the house behind them as they started up the path through Daeghun's little patch of farmland towards the bridge that lead to West Harbor.
"How's the competition look this year?" Alysanna asked, knowing that Bevil and Amie had been up for hours already scouting the place out. The three of them always competed together, even when they were all just little tykes running amuck around the swamp. They weren't real competitors back then, but now that Cormick was gone, it seemed everyone in their little village was ready for them to claim their victory.
"For which tourney?" Amie asked, digging her toes into the dirt.
"The only one that matters." Alysanna stretched her back and cracked her neck. Her green eyes swept over the tents and decorated houses to rest on the fighting arena.
"Mossfields currently, or last I checked. No surprise, there." Bevil shrugged. "But Georg says if you're going to compete again this year you can only have one partner in the rink instead of two."
"What?" Amie interjected. "How is that supposed to be fair?" Although she was a magic user, Amie still appreciated the opportunity to swing a club.
Alysanna smirked with pride. The past two years, her growth had spiked for some inexplicable reason. Whenever she tried to pry information from Daeghun about her lineage, he only told her about her mother's: human. He hated repeating himself more than probably anything, but still, when she asked about her father's side, Daeghun patiently told her that he truthfully did not know. And that was all he would say about her mother. Alysanna didn't have any telling unusual features, really. The most unusual thing about her, except for her size which only began to change over the past two years, was the incredible mass of freckles over her cheeks, arms and legs. Her ears were not pointed. Her skin was not toned like those of magical races. Up until her sudden growth spurt, many assumed she was a full blooded human.
Alysanna knew otherwise. She couldn't explain why or how she knew. Humans can't lift a fully loaded cart without breaking a sweat. Humans can't weild halberds and bastard swords with one hand. Most humans, particularly human women, don't spontaneously grow a whole foot of height between the ages of sixteen and eighteen.
There were other things, too. Less obvious things, like her endurance. She could run circles around Georg's militia and still be bouncing while they're on their knees panting and feeding the grass puddles of sweat. Her uncanny ability to, no matter how hard she tries, to get truly lost. Despite having the appearance of a lumbering brute, Alysanna moved with the fine finesse of a wood elf through through trees if she could channel her focus enough.
There were bad traits, too.
The most dangerous of her worst characteristics was, by far, her rage. When she was a child, playing out in the swamp, a frog's tongue had darted out and startled her, which made her lose her balance and fall collapsing to the ground. She ruined her pants and Bevil and Amie had giggled at her, finding her flailing limbs and reddened face to be amusing. Alysanna had no memory of what happened afterward, except seeing red and coming out of it with a mass of two dozen ripped frog carcasses and limbs surrounding her feet.
Daeghun brought her home straight away and began making her a potion to dull her rage, while also hiring the local wizard, Tarmas, to help her cope with it so she could remain in the village. At age thirteen, Alysanna stopped taking the potions. It felt wrong, and the frog incident had long since faded from her memory. One day a farmer, Lewy, a scummy lowlife man she never liked, gave her a look she didn't like and the red vision came back, that time when she snapped out of it, he was cowering beneath her and she had the broken off wooden leg of a stool over her head. She knew in that moment she had every intention of using it to bash his head in and murder him. Because of the way he looked at her. Bevil's hand had grabbed her forearm and she easily shook it off. If Amie hadn't used her magic to create a shield between them, Alysanna would have killed him.
To her surprise, Daeghun did not lecture her about it. He simply continued making the potion for her, and Alysanna never went a day without them again. She even sent Lewy smoked meats and skinned furs for a whole year after wards. Daeghun made her stop sending him goods, telling her that he would never forgive her as long as she kept it up. He never forgave her anyway, but Alysanna couldn't blame him. She could hardly forgive herself.
The brawl at the High Harvest fair was different. It was her favorite tourney and even to her surprise, over the years as she calmed down and the potions began to work their long-term magic, she learned to take the heat of good old fashioned fighting for fun. She won almost every year, of course, but last year she did accidentally hit Wyl Moss too hard and ended up cracking his skull. Fortunately, Brother Merring, the local healer and Priest of Lathander, was nearby to fix him up straight away. After a long talk with Daeghun, Alysanna confessed it was an accident and there was no red sight at all and she truly didn't mean to hurt him. Brother Merring believed her, but apparently Georg decided it would be best to equate her strength as that of two men for the Brawl.
Which did make Alysanna feel good about her unusual strength and size.
"Oh that's alright, we'll let them hold the title for a bit." Alysanna smirked. "I wouldn't be surprised if Wyl didn't even want to get in the ring with me again."
"You shouldn't say stuff like that." Bevil said in a hushed voice. "We know you're not some crazy brute, but you scare people, Aly."
Across the bridge, Alysanna saw a cloaked figure dart away from Georg and towards the mangled trees of the swamp where it disappeared. As the three of them crossed over the bridge, it didn't seem that Bevil or Amie had seen it, and Georg turned to them immediately, almost convincing Alysanna that she had only imagined it.
"Enjoy the time off, Bevil, it's back to training for you tomorrow." He greeted.
"Yes, Sir." Bevil's tone was polite, but Amie noticed the cringe in his neck as the order was given.
"I don't know how you guys do that." Aly shook her head.
"What?"
"Take orders."
"And that's why you failed your training, Oxblood." Georg laughed. Aly rolled her eyes, not understanding the appeal of being in the militia, particularly out in a swamp miles and miles away from Neverwinter or any other big city, where it made more sense to have an organized military. All the same, Georg had become fond of her brute strength during her short time in training. He saw value in her physique, asking her for assistance for hard, manual labor rather than guarding the gates and settling civil disputes.
"The Mossfields have been training hard this year. I think they might actually last a minute or two in the ring this time." Georg said to Bevil."Oh, good. Maybe they'll give us an actual challenge this yar."
Georg smirked at her. "You might be surprised. Also I have to ask, did you bring your potion?"
"Yeah. Don't worry." She dug out the little vial of blue liquid from her pouch and wiggled it in front of him. "Take it right before the brawl, in front of Brother Merring and my opponents."
She didn't like rules, but given her past incidents, she fully understood why it had to be done. Also it strangely made her feel more powerful. As though the only way to give them a fighting chance against her was to dull her abilities down. And yet she still won.
"Which tourney do you guys want to do first?" Alysanna asked.
"Mine." Amie said. "We'll just get it out of the way."
"Yeah, it's not like you have a lot of competition." Bevil teased her, his blue eyes wide as they darted up to Alysanna. "It would be a good strategic move, anyway."
"Are you kidding?" Aly snapped. "She's the only mage between us and Neverwinter, besides Tarmas! She has no competition."
"Exactly."
"Fine. You two go work your magic. I'll take care of Daeghan's furs and the archery competition."
"Right there. Did you see it?" Vitani nodded, pointing with her oak-brown gaze at the young, but huge red-haired woman.
"I did." Elanee said, watching still as Alysanna and her friends strolled by. "I'm not sure if it has anything to do with the blight, though."
Vitani crouched down in the tree. If she stood still enough, not even Elanee could pick her out. Even after their near-century together, Vitani could still hide from her in the very land they tended together.
"Whatever it is, it's dark magic. And I only know of one source of dark magic around here."
Elanee nodded and the two fell suddenly very quiet. Daeghun's gaze shot right in their direction, his gaze lingered over Vitani but she knew he could not see her. As solid as petrified wood, Vitani remained still, becoming one with the woods, until he looked away.
"Do you think he saw us?" Elanee asked.
"He's suspicious. I've seen him out in the mornings more recently lately. He saw the same tracks that we did. He's on guard." Her gaze narrowed as she looked out across the town, to the swamps on the other side. "Something is going to happen."
"What do you think we should do?"
Before Vitani could answer, they watched Alysanna rapid-fire arrows at standing glass bottles. They shattered into glistening fireworks over the wooden crates and spilled onto the grass below like spring rain.
"She's good."
"Anyone can shoot a still target. She's more skilled with that axe."
"Just what the world needs, more fighters." Elanee sighed. Her fingers brushed the branch of the tree they sat on.
"She's more than a fighter. She's a barbarian."
"Oh, gods."
"And that blonde one, a wizard."
The two of them watched as Amie summoned a wolf out of nothing. Vitani scowled with disgust. She didn't mind Elanee summoning animals, because Elanee just moved them from one location to her location. But wizards conjured them out of nothing. It was unnatural.
"They have no idea. We should tell them."
Vitani shook her head. "They know probably as much as we do. That moon elf is skilled, and the other druids have already warned the farmers. I've got my eye on that barbarian, though, this whole thing seems to be revolving around her."
Elanee's thin eyebrows furrowed. "It is?"
"Look at them. The way they all move around her. The way they all watch her. She has no idea, but, it's almost like they are protecting her."
"Or celebrating her." Elanee offered.
Vitani fell silent with contemplation. Elanee regarded her carefully.
"You can't be thinking that she's disrupted Tasida's crypt..."
"Capable young hero seeking daddy's approval sells her soul to the nine hells for an unnatural amount of strength. Few years go by and the price is evil minions killing her entire villiage. I can't say I have a reason to not suspect her."
A little squirrel darted up the tree and snuggled between them on the branch. Elanee scratched its head and it chittered happily. "That seems a bit far-fetched. She doesn't strike me as evil."
"Good. Evil. It doesn't matter. Whatever it is is affecting the earth and life here, so it must be stopped."
"You ready to get bloodied up again, Mossfield?" Alysanna swung the training club over her shoulder.
"You wish. We've been waiting for this moment a long time, Oxshit. You're going to pay for what happened last year." Ward spat in her direction.
"I'd like to see you try." Aly laughed.
"Then you wouldn't turn down a bet, would you? Fifty gold says we can take on you and Bevil."
Aly looked over her shoulder at Bevil, who was staring daggers at her, imploring her not to bet. It was against the rules and if Brother Merring found out they could lose the cup entirely.
"It's not a fair fight with me and Bevil. Amie wil be my partner. That should even the odds out for you."
"Ooh, lookie here, boys, the fat giant thinks she can take all three of us!"
"It's muscle, not fat. Not that you'd know the difference."
"Alright, come on, Aly." Bevil started.
"I bet you fifty gold I'll have your asses on the ground before you so much as lay a hand on Amie or Bevil."
Bevil and Amie gawked and threw up their hands. "Aly! Betting is against the rules." He whispered at her like an older sibling warning her, at his eyes darted over to Brother Merring, who was talking to Pitney Lannon in the crowd, their oblivious parent.
Wyl Mossfield locked eyes with Bevil and pouted, "Oh, but Alysanna, Bevil doesn't want to break the rules."
"I don't trust you to pay up anyways."
"Fifty says we get you on the ground crying."
"Let's make it a hundred." Her heart began to pound.
Wyl clasped her hand.
"Oh, gods." Amie sighed.
"Alysanna, what do you think you are-" Bevil started.
"Brother Merring!" Alysanna spun around, plastering a grin across her face. "The Mossfields are ready for another round."
Amie rolled her brown eyes and grabbed the last remaining club from the wooden barrel next to him. Brother Merring's hands were folded in the gold and red long sleeves of his robes as he visibly inhaled and held the breath.
"Alysanna, let me go over the rules before you step into the-"
"One club per person. No excessive beating, only training clubs can be used, and the last one standing wins." She recited, bouncing up and down with excitement. "And this year I can only bring in one partner."
"Very good. Which one of you two is competing with her?"
"Amie." Aly interjected before either could. "Amie is coming in the ring with me."
Bevil shifted uncomfortably. "Aly, I don't think that's a good idea."
Even Brother Merring, who usually kept his face as void of emotion as possible (although, when compared to Daeghun, Brother Merring appeared very expressive) frowned with concern. "Are you certain?" He lingered over Bevil, encouraging him wordlessly to speak up.
"We - we are sure!" Amie pipped up, forcing her smile until it felt natural.
"No magic or ranged weapons." Brother Merring added.
"Right." Amie's pale skin eruptied with blush.
"Stay behind me, you'll be fine." Aly said.
Aly had turned back to Merring and the Mossfields. The three brothers entered the ring and the crowd began cheering for them. Aly gave them a minute to soak up the glory, knowing it would be short lived.
When she entered the ring, with Amie to her right, the cheering intensified.
"Before this brawl can begin, Alysanna if you would, please."
Aly dug the potion out of her pocket and popped the cork off. From the far side of the town she could almost feel Daeghun's eyes watching as she took the whole thing back. Its affect was instant, but she had become so accustomed to it now that she hardly noticed.
Nodding with approval, Brother Merring allowed the brawl begin.
The Mossfield brothers charged at Aly, Wyl's club held over his head, yelling. She moved on the balls her feet, dodging his swing. Thrusting out with the tip of the club, Alysanna pegged Ward right in the gut, knocking the wind from him. His club splashed down into the muddy ground with a dull splat as he grabbed his stomach. Ward rushed at her.
Webb cornered Amie, who managed barely hold her club steady enough to redirect two of his jabs. He slammed the weapon over her fingers, smashing them. Amie cried out as she dropped her club and her fingers went numb. Webb slammed his club into her belly, making her double over.
The sound caught Aly's attention. It wasn't the heavy thud of a blunt object making contact, it was...
"Hey!" Bevil screamed from the sidelines. Aly spun around from fighting off a straggling Wyl enough to see Amy puke up blood on Webb's shoes. "CHEATER!" Bevil screamed, climbing into the ring, he lunged at Webb, tackling him into the mud.
Aly slammed her hand down on Ward's shoulder before Wyl rushed at her. "Wait," she said to him, distracted by Amie, but he lifted his club to attack, Aly grabbed his forearm and lifted him off of the ground. He screamed in pain as a horrific rip came from his arm and he uselessly kicked at her shins. Amie crawled towards the edge of the ring, towards Brother Merring, who waited with outstretched hands to heal her. There was blood all over her robe. She had been stabbed. As Aly stared at the growing red spot, her heart pounded harder. The edges of her vision began to blur.
"Stop! What is this?" Brother Merring yelled once he got a look at Amie. White light glowed from his hands over her stomach, healing her.
Aly dropped Wyl then pulled Bevil off of Web, who had begun to bleed from the skull. "Move." She shoved Bevil and picked up the bleeding Webb, rushing him over to Merring. He touched Webb's head, the white light sealing up where Bevil had split his scalp.
Wyl had picked up Webb's club, but Aly yanked it out of his hand. There was no way a club could have made Amie spit up blood and bleed like that. She would know, if she couldn't do that, there was no way a puney pipsqueak like Webb could. She looked at the tip of the club and found a small slit. She pressed on the handle and a blade flicked out of it.
"You STABBED her!" Aly yelled, turning her gaze at Webb, who had only just began to gain consciousness back.
"She will be fine." Brother Merring said in his nonchalant, calming voice. "I have healed her and they have been disqualified. You win. It is done."
Webb's face went white as linen as Aly stared at him. Her heart slammed in her chest. All along she thought the Mossfields and her were just having friendly competition!
"Aly, stop." Bevil said.
"I'm okay." Amie assured her. "It's okay, it's fine. It was probably an accident!" She stuck her finger through the hole in her shirt, her voice heavy with desperation.
Alysanna realized everyone in the crowd had taken about three steps back and she could hear Wyl crying, sobbing, muttering something. Brother Merring had entered the ring and Webb's face erupted with sweat.
"What?" Aly asked.
The silence was palpable, it seemed the whole fair was waiting for her to do something.
"Alysanna." Daeghun's arid voice came. Calm, collected, and obnoxious. "Put the boy down."
She looked over and saw Wyl's neck in her fist, hoisted into the air again. He was sniffling pathetically, horrified. She dropped him, then thrust her fists into the air.
"YEAH! WE WIN! That's what I'm talking about!" She slapped Bevil's back with an open palm in celebration, as the crowd of harbormen and farmers closed around them, cheering, the violence of the brawl now vanished in the air like fog in sunlight.
"Let's go tell Georg!"
"Let's wait for Amie to be able to stand." Bevil reached out to help Amie to her feet.
"Mead is on me!" Alysanna yelled, tossing her club into the air. Brother Merring watched as it, with mild annoyance, fell down on top of Ian's head as Aly, overwhelmed with joy, bolted to grab mugs of the seasonal, delicious harvest mead.
"Is that better?" Brother Merring asked Amie, whose natural glow returned to her skin after the sickly pale of blood loss. Amie all but jumped up back on her feet. Bevil rushed to her side and threw her arm over his neck.
"Much, thank you, Brother Merring."
"We better go catch up to Aly." Bevil said, his face red as he avoided Brother Merring's neutral stare. Behind Bevil and Amie, the Mossfields were slinking out from the crowd.
"And I have to go catch the Mossfields. That was completely out of line. Congratulations again."
Bevil helped Amie balance as they walked down the dirt road towards the cart full of kegs of mead. All they could make out of Alysanna was her long red braid swinging as she downed mug after mug.
"I'm sorry I... we couldn't get to you in time." Bevil said.
"It's fine. Thank the gods Brother Merring started over seeing the brawl."
"Yeah, but still. Aly and I said we would-"
Amie stopped her dizzy shuffling and turned to look at Bevil, her hand rested on his chest. "Really, Bevil. It's okay. You had no idea they'd do something like that and if it were a real, true threat, it never would have happened. I know that."
The warrior wasn't so certain, but Amie's faith convinced him enough for now. She blushed, feeling like she'd been staring at him for too long, and dropped her arm to keep walking.
Just as Bevil's face reddened from her tone, Alysanna came roaring down the dirt road, hands full of mugs, her face split in half from a wide, toothy grin.
"Cheers!" She yelled, shoving two mugs she had in one hand in Bevil's chest. "One of those is for Amie." She added hastily.
"I don't think Amie should..."
"CHEERS!" Alysanna repeated, then downed the whole contents of her mug. Trails of dark red liquid leaked down her neck. She wiped the foam from her lips and burped. She punched Amie lightly on the arm. "The faster you drink it, the faster the bad taste goes away." She winked at her.
"Gather 'round, folks!" Georg callled from behind them on the stage.
"That's our queue." Bevil said.
"Come on!" Alysanna saw that neither Bevil nor Amie had so much as sipped the mead she brought them. She didn't want to keep the crowd waiting and it was clear that Amie was sill healing from the attack at the brawl. She decided to help by picking up Amie and running towards the stage.
"Ah! Aly, the mead!" She cried out, giggling as it spilled on her dress.
"Come on, Bevil!" Aly yelled over her shoulder.
As the three of them got up on the little makeshift stage platform, a familiar eerie silence fell over the crowd as Georg continued his annual speech. "Nineteen years ago toay, we came under attack. The blood and bodies of the fallen fed our farmland as we triumphed over them and rebuilt our villiage, stronger and better than before!"
The crowd cheered. Alysanna wondered how many of them actually were there to witness the attack.
"And to be sure that never happens again, we keep the young ones strong by competing for the Harvest cup. Now, I present to you this year's champions for not just three, but all four tourneys! Three cheers for our champions! Hip-hip! Hooray..."
"So," Alysanna threw her arms over her friends. An empty mug slipped from her hand and hit the ground with a hollow thud. She leaned into Bevil as she started, "Tomorrow, you become Georg's right hand man." She leaned into Amie, who was now all healed up from the brawl. "And you take over the magic shop while Tarmas goes on his little adventure. And I," she stood up and put her fists on her hips. "Have finally decided where I am going."
"You sure you won't be changing your mind in the morning?" Bevil asked with amusement at his drunk friend.
"I'll be heading to Luskan."
Amie and Bevil exchanged a glance. Amie saw his jaw clench and anger cross over his face before he spun around, shrugging Aly off of him so he could look her square in the eye.
"What?"
"Luskan!" Bevil snapped. "Why would you want to go to such a lawless place?"
"Because I would make an awesome mercenary."
"Yeah, okay. Until someone gets a better mercenary to kill you!" He scowled at her.
Amie put her hand on his arm, a weak attempt to calm him down as the vein in his neck began to throb and he took on a tickle-me-pink shade.
"Bevil, there is nothing for me here. You're running a militia, Amie's taking over the apothecary. I'm not a ranger, farmer or a druid."
"You can still hunt."
"Totally. I blend right in with the trees."
Amie burst into giggles. Bevil shot a glare at her and yanked his arm away. Catching her breath, Amie suggested, "well, what about Neverwinter, then?"
Aly rolled her green eyes. "Ugh. It would take me years with all those goody-two-shoes passing through. I need danger. I need the risk. I need to grow and make a name for myself."
Bevil and Amie started to argue the point again, but stopped as Orlen brought them another round of mead. A knowing silence overcame the three of them as they all avoided eye contact. Amie's slender fingers drummed on her mug before she hoisted it up into the air between them.
"To new beginnings." She toasted.
"And old friends," Aly added.
Amie looked at Bevil. "Come on, you can't leave us hanging like this."
The warrior looked at Amie for a long time then smiled, clashing his mug with theirs. "To old friends and new beginnings!" He added. He and Alysanna threw their mugs back while Amie took a bitter mouthful and slowly swallowed.
Aly wiped the excess off of her neck and scanned her eyes around for Orlen, wanting more.
Bevil gasped, surprised at himself that he had drunk all of his.
"Oh, come on, Bevil, Luskan isn't-" Alysanna began, but she realized he wasn't paying any attention to her when he suddenly grabbed Amie by the arm, pulled her body against his, and kissed her right on the lips.
A woman whom Aly had never seen before walked by carrying a tray of mugs and Aly snatched two from it, while watching Amie's face morph from shock to joy. When they finished kissing and both of their faces went bright red, Aly handed the second mug to Bevil and knocked hers into it again for the second cheer that evening.
"It's about time."