"On behalf of all the people of Hackdirt, thank you. You've saved us all." Keric said, managing a creaky-limbed bow. He rubbed a wrinkled hand across his beard and regarded the three travelers. They'd all had the good sense to wash up before returning to Hackdirt to speak to the elder, but Aramil's trousers and boots were still stained with blood, as was Meryl's dress.

"Please sir, think nothing of it. It was the right thing to do, and we were happy to help." Meryl said with a smile.

Devlin watched her in silence. She was so prim and ladylike! And with those kind smiles and gracious words… He wouldn't have believed that she was traveling with a savage berserker if he hadn't seen it himself.

Still, the wizard thought ruefully, he had to give credit where it was due. The elf made an effective bodyguard. The bandits hadn't even gotten near Meryl. But how could she feel safe traveling with him? Just because he hadn't gone all crazy and killed her yet didn't mean he might not in the future.

"-for Sir Devlin, here is the reward money we promised you." the elder was saying, extending a leather pouch swollen and jangling with coins.

The wizard stepped forward and took the bag with a bow. "Thank you."

The audience with the elder over, the three left the building and stepped out onto the street. An uncomfortable moment of silence passed between them.

It was Meryl who finally spoke first. "So, Devlin, where will you be going from here?" she asked politely.

"I'm not sure, actually," he replied. Traveling with the pair would prove to be dangerous, but they seemed to be far more interested in do-gooding and charity work… which meant that he'd make more reward money. "Where will you two go?"

Meryl glanced upward toward Aramil, her gaze questioning. He shrugged indifferently. Looking back to Devlin, the healer opened her mouth to speak.

"Hey! Those are the ones who killed the bandits!" a man's voice rang out. A flock of seven or eight villagers ran over, thronging around the adventurers.

"We went to the bluffs to see the camp for ourselves!" a younger man gibbered. "You killed all of them! Dead!"

"And you cut their leader in half!" another man spoke up, gaping at the burly elf.

"Yeah, went right through the spine and everything!"

"Oughta call him Spinecleaver!"

"Yeah!" a chorus of voices agreed.

Aramil endured all this patiently, his expression stoic. Meryl, however, looked to him and smiled a bit. "Aramil Spinecleaver. Sounds catchy." she said with a gentle laugh.

Devlin stroked thoughtfully at his goatee. It actually did have a good ring. Made the elf sound menacing. A name like Spinecleaver would spread through the countryside like wildfire. He'd soon be asked to take care of all sorts of dangerous monsters- and Devlin could be around to reap the benefits if he traveled with the two.

"My dear Meryl," he finally said, voice silky, "I was wondering if you two would welcome another companion until our paths deviate from one another."

Aramil scowled, but a gentle hand on his arm kept him civil.

"We'd be honored to have you journey with us. Having a wizard around would make things much easier." Meryl said with a gracious smile.

"Then it's settled! Where will we go?"

"We could follow the river to Brightwater. They're sure to have a lot of jobs that need doing." Meryl suggested.

Devlin nodded approvingly. "Brightwater's a large port. And if nothing else we can cross the sea and look for work elsewhere."

Aramil just nodded. The three managed to squeeze away from the group of excited villagers and off they went.

Devlin watched his two newfound companions carefully. It would be dangerous hanging around them, but he could always brush up on his sleep spells. That way if the elf got out of control he could just knock the lunatic out. And besides, the longer he traveled with them, the better chance he had of nailing the pretty little half-Drow.

So it wasn't all bad! He'd just have to be careful. If he played his cards right, he could end up very rich from this little partnership.

The atmosphere was overall a cheerful one as the three traveled southeast out of the village, walking alongside a muddy road. It was well after noon and the sky was still grey, but the clouds looked as though they were parting on the horizon. A faint band of blue sky seemed to beckon the adventurers forward.

"Once we hit Brightwater River, we can follow it south to Brightwater Port. The journey should take about three days, depending on if we make good time or not." Meryl said cheerfully.

"You're so learned, my sweet lady. How do you know so much of geography?" Devlin apparently wasn't letting up on the flattery. He brushed a hand over the front of his deep red smoking jacket before adjusting the weight of his leather backpack.

Meryl shifted uncomfortably, not used to such blatant attention. "I- my father taught me. He wanted me to be knowledgeable." Knowledgeable so she could survive in the world on her own. The healer's expression grew distant, sad. He'd always known that she was going to travel the world. She never would have been content to stay home all her life and never see all the good and the beauty in the world.

She missed him. She missed the sound of his voice as he tutored her, maps rolled out across the kitchen table as he pointed out safe passages through mountain ranges. She missed how he'd take her into the woods to show her what different herbs looked like and told her what they could be used for.

And then there was the look in his eyes that he never thought she noticed, when she'd catch him staring out the window in the evenings. Drow women weren't supposed to be capable of love, she'd heard. But she wondered if her mother hadn't loved her father. She knew he'd been captured while exploring a series of caves, and that he'd been taken as a slave in the Underdark. But he wouldn't tell her anything more of her mother.

"Meryl?" Devlin asked, abruptly tugging her from her thoughts.

"Hm? I'm sorry, I was off in my own little world, I suppose." she said, a swift, apologetic smile blanketing her face and hiding her sorrow.

"Quite alright. I was just wondering where we were going to camp for the night. We'll be losing light soon, my dear."

"Oh- of course," the healer mumbled, craning her neck as she looked around for a suitable place to make camp.

Aramil raised a hang, pointing toward a copse of trees a short walk away. "There. By the river."

"River? I don't see the river." Devlin protested.

"There are trees. The river will be there." the elf just grunted and set off toward the copse. Meryl shrugged, offering Devlin a smile, and set off after her bodyguard. Grumpily, the wizard followed.

Aramil's certainty proved to be well-placed. As they neared the trees, the sound of running water became more and more obvious. The site had clearly been used as a camp before, for there was a small clearing in the midst of the trees. A circle of stones still waited patiently for a campfire.

The elf inspected the wood and sticks laying around the copse and looked to Meryl, shaking his head.

"Too wet to build a fire, huh?" she asked with a sigh.

Now it was Devlin's turn to put the elf in his place. "Irrelevant, my dear! Allow me to work my magic and we'll have a fire in no time."

"Oh- okay." Meryl said and began gathering up wood for fuel. Aramil moved to help her, and soon they'd piled up the wood and tinder and readied it for whatever tricks Devlin had up his sleeve.

The wizard gave a few gestures, mumbling under his breath, and the logs ignited into a bright, cheerful blaze.

"Oh! Thank you, Devlin!" Meryl exclaimed happily, warming her hands near the fire.

"Not a problem, my lady," Devlin suddenly gave a start, looking around. "Uh- where'd the elf go?"

Aramil was indeed gone. Meryl shrugged. "Ah. I suppose he went to go catch some dinner. He should be back soon." The healer sat down by the fire and reached into her pack, pulling out an iron pot that shouldn't have fit into the small container. This was joined by several potatoes and a few carrots as well. She began chopping up the vegetables and putting them in the pot, a few whispered words conjuring up some pure water, which filled the pot.

Devlin sat down nearby and just watched her work, admiring the way her long white hair fell about her face. Well, he was getting a free meal tonight, it seemed. This was working out in his favour, considering all he'd had to do was conjure up a fire. The half-Drow was such a pretty little thing, but she looked so damned sad when she didn't think anyone was watching her.

"You love him, don't you?" the wizard asked suddenly.

The knife nearly slipped from Meryl's hand, and she busied herself with chopping the potatoes. "Yes." was all she said, her voice quiet.

"I thought so. And he…?"

"He's looked after me since I was a child. I think he still sees me as such."

"But you're a beautiful young woman!" Devlin exclaimed, sidling closer to her. "A man would have to be crazy not to notice that."

A rueful smile quirked at her lips, her gaze still fixed on her task. "Thank you."

"Come on, you've obviously pined after him for years now. How much longer are you going to wait?"

"I don't know."

"You're wasting your life, though."

"He's wasting his life following me around and taking care of me. Is it really any different?"

Devlin was silent for a moment, not expecting that response. "But… I mean, it's his choice to follow you like that. It's not your choice that he's ignoring you as a woman."

Meryl didn't say anything more. She just quietly cleaned the knife and put it away. Realizing he'd maybe pushed his point a little too far, Devlin scooted away and pulled out a pipe, lighting it. The wizard watched her, puffing at the pipe and blowing smoke rings, until the elf stalked back to the camp, carrying a pair of dead rabbits by the ears.

Wordlessly, Aramil took the cleaned knife and ventured a short distance away to skin the rabbits and ready them to be put in the stewpot.

Devlin continued to watch as Meryl looked after the elf and then back to her hands. She was stubborn in her feelings, it seemed, but he could win her over in time. He'd just play to her romantic side. With a yawn, the wizard pulled his bedroll from his backpack and laid it out on the ground. "I think I'll have a nap while dinner cooks." he said. Within minutes, he was snoring.

Aramil shifted to look at Devlin for a moment before fixing his glance on Meryl. "What's wrong?"

The healer stiffened, unsure of how to answer. "It's… it's been a long day, that's all." she replied quietly.

"Did he try to touch you?" the elf's tone was low but sharp.

"No, no. Nothing like that. I'm just a little worn out."

She knew he didn't believe that she was alright, but he didn't press the issue. Instead the giant elf remained silent, just watching her.

"May I brush your hair? Before dinner, while Devlin's still asleep."

His expression softened by degrees and he moved to sit down in front of her. Meryl scooped her hairbrush out of her pack and began running it through his messy brown hair, combing out tangles. Unfortunately for them, Devlin was a light sleeper and hearing his name woke him up- though he didn't give any indication of being awake. The wizard cautiously squeezed one eye open, watching the two.

The sight of Meryl brushing Aramil's hair, tears silently tumbling down her cheeks, left him feeling oddly empty.