The interior of the tavern was a cacophony. I could hear dozens of conversations ringing at once and what was worse was that my brain could distinguish them all and make sense of them. The rush produced a dull sense of sickness in my stomach, enough to visibly hesitate at the door of the establishment.
I supposed that the sudden silence that crept in with me was a good thing then, enough to let me get my bearings even though their eyes turned to my form instead as I ducked in. At least the pause gave me a moment to get a look for those within.
At least the mutated mass of my mind was well suited for looking over the group and making some general gains in information. They conformed to my rapidly growing framework for the world that I found myself looking at the stereotypical adventurer tavern. A riot of colors in eye, hair, skin, garb and that was the most uniform feature they shared. One woman had a red lens for a right eye, another had a massive musculature straining under plate that did not look natural and I was certain that I saw fangs in the mouth of one old man. Their arms and armor ran the gambit from boiled leather to powered armor with grinding servos, weapons running a similar range. Even their expressions went from stupefied to only mildly interest.
Morygen followed behind me and made a show of laughing at the men and women within, "Come now, you lot! Can't be too envious at a good find, bad luck for next journey and such."
Her laugh was met with a few a few chuckles and interest in me seemed to largely disperse at that, emphasis on 'seemed' as my nerves told me that they had their eyes on me still.
"Come on now," Morygen chuckled by reaching up and slapping my lower back. "Now use blocking the door, eh?"
I nodded and fell in step with her, "So this is a Seeker's place?"
"Not really," she chuckled while scratching her head. "It is a good season for expedition and our reputation for spending too much on drinking is not completely undeserved."
Hmm, well the stench was certainly thick enough. I caught a note in her words however.
"You have a home here," I noted. She had a home it seemed and the little girl had shared a number of her features. That seemed like odd characteristics for a pseudo-adventurer.
"Ah, you are right," she admitted. "I have a strong enough gift to do shallow dives on my own into City-Like-Woods so I do not typically follow the seasonal cycle."
The Blank looked sheepish, "You met Ymer, my little sister. A home and a reasonable life are better for a child than following the cycle."
"You keep saying 'cycle' and 'season' as if I would know the term," I pointed out.
"Just trying to see if I can wake a memory or two," she held up her hands in defense as we made our way down the benches. I noted that what I had thought to be the hill behind the tavern had been hollowed out, the simplest explanation for the size of tavern compared to its exterior.
"The presence of Voidspawn in the ruins waxes and wanes with the seasons, the difference between finding a treasure worth a title and getting torn to bits," she shrugged. "I think you came in with the season probably, not really many others that live hear year round."
"I think you are right," Well that was technically correct, the sort Rogal Dorn would dislike. My breathing ticked up slightly at the realization that I was now trapped in the same world as that as that blunt son of a sociopath.
She nodded, "Oh! There they are!"
She waved at a table with three of the motley advent-seekers waving in return. Two men and a woman, none seemed particularly old. My mind categorically concluded that the larger man and the woman were in the last years of their third decade by human standards while the lankier man leaning against his chair seemed considerably younger.
Morygen pointed to me with a confident smile, "Our friend woke up and he has already agreed to guide us, an auspicious start wouldn't you say?"
"Ah yes, my mother always said an unclad giant was lucky," the youth said as he rolled his pale eyes. He struck me as a cocky sort immediately but not incompetent if I read his posture correctly, there was a tension to his shoulders and the sword at his waist was angled as if ready to be drawn at a beat. "Does he have a name?"
"Not at present," Morygen laughed. "Ector had the right, his treasure wiped his memory."
The big man nodded and put his mug down onto the rough-hewn table.
"Treasures can be nasty things," He said with what I imagined was supposed to be a sagely nod but the man swayed from his drink. "If you aren't careful they can be as much a pest as a prize."
"So it would seem," I offered with a diplomatic smile or the best that I could simulate, a literal giant was never comforting. "My name is of no great consequence."
They gave me looks of confusion while Morygen coughed, "I will explain it to him later, for now let's get some drink in him and plan."
She took a seat and called at a passing boy for some name whose meaning was beyond me but I assumed was some sort of intoxicant from the fact that she ordered two. She turned to me and was about to offer a seat before she hesitated.
My weight would rumple the wooden chair easily enough so I sat down on the straw on beside the table, fortunately the massive size of a Primarch resulted in my still being at eye level with most of them.
…It almost made having to keep a wary eye on the ceiling of the structure worth it.
I picked up some more information from their introductions.
Apparently the three composed a Seeker group that frequently contracted Morygen when the ruin-tide (something to be said for double-entendre I supposed) abated in the local ruin.
"A void-bane makes our work much easier," the younger man explained with an easy smile. "And Morygen is such fair company."
Morygen snorted at that as two flagons were brought to the table, "He is certainly a slow one Ector, funny though."
The boy did not seem bothered by the critique as he spread his arms in a gesture of mock-helplessness, "Ah, then I will gladly be a jester if that will please you."
I forced a laugh to match the others before taking a drink of my flagon. The dulled emotions managed to inspire irritation which I in turn had to quell. I wondered what was the reasoning for neutering my positive emotional range while leaving my negative range very much intact, perhaps that said more for my 'maker' than anything else.
He could at least have made me able to enjoy the taste of ale, instead I merely found a half-dozen component tastes while my physiology moved to eliminate the poison.
I opted to not dwell on my disappointment and refocused on the conversation to distract from my eternal sobriety and continue building my mental profiles for the small group.
The younger man was apparently a nephew of the elder man, 'Trystane' amused me distantly as his name carried on the unfailing tradition of predictable names. He spoke confidently but the way his eyes went back to his uncle in confirmation every few words suggested that he was new to the trade.
Aside from the swaying and stench of drink, it did not seem like misplaced trust. The man supplied advice and measured words in a manner that implied little could surprise him in the ruins, closer inspection suggested that he might well be older than I had initially.
"I got lucky some years back," he responded when I asked. "Found an old place and came out with a few decades lost for it."
"Would you not prefer to sell it?" I asked, I was still uncertain about the details of how the profession made their fortunes.
"Not necessarily," Morygen supplied. "If you find something that is useful to the job, being alive is better than some more coin."
"Arms, armor and physical gifts," Trystane counted off. "You are typically going to keep, lesser examples and other pieces typically sell very well."
I was only introduced in passing to the mouse-like woman that remained quiet as the others spoke.
"Iseult," She said in a light but disinterested voice when I noted as much.
"Don't mind her," Ector shook his head. "You will not see many that know as much about the Fallen Ones and their oddities. She is a terrible talker though."
"I do not speak for its own sake," she rebutted quietly while eyeing me.
We slipped back into conversation as I recounted most of my route throughout the ruins and they shot ideas back and forth about possible routes. We quickly came to the conclusion that if conditions allowed it, we would return to the ruins within a week's time. I needed time to acquire some ability to defend myself. At that point they devolved into idle chatter which I found of little use, so I only paid peripheral attention while trying to get a better grip on my inhuman senses.
By the time that Morygen was ready to leave I could divide the scents and sounds into neat categories. I could still not tell one hormone from the other in those scents and it was hard to tell people apart by scent but Rome was not built in a day.
I felt a mild pang of embarrassment when I left the tavern and realized my presumption.
"I have troubled you enough," I told Morygen awkwardly. "I will find a place to stay-"
"You have no coin," Morygen noted with her arms crossed. "And giant or not, my home is better than sleeping out in the cold."
You would think, I mused as I recalled that one of my 'relatives' was literally raised by wolves, naked and in the cold without issue.
I took her point however and it would have been rude to deny the offer, "Then I will not deny your charity."
"Charity," she snorted. "That is a funny word, wait until you try Ymer's cooking before you call it 'charity'."
