Hello, all. Have had some problems with my computer lately and will be on break in a few days so my posting will be very erratic my apologies to everyone for that. Also, this scene was a little hard to write. The idea was of Skif and the others trying to make sure that their own mood stayed up in the camp. The mood is much lighter with some of the characters than normal, but this is also set in a presumably peaceful time between wars and the mission is not as life-threatening as normal until they get into the Holderkin areas. So a few of the upcoming sections have a bit of this feel as well. Suggestions will be welcome, since I am not sure how well this works in character.

It was that evening, and Skif sat facing the fire, settling comfortably as he took his turn to tell a story. The somber mood had returned quickly enough, and within an hour, he had resorted to Mindspeaking with the Companions to lessen the silence that Alberich and Talia had established. He looked over at Myste who smiled and shrugged. Well, there was at least one other Herald who was still speaking! But he knew that Myste was going to need to go over some of her notes to help them with this, a task which was not going to be very easy to accomplish while riding a Companion. So, instead, Skif had spent the day having a pleasant enough chat with Kantor and Cymry, occasionally engaging Rolan's attention enough to have him join in the conversation as well. As he finished his bowl of stew before beginning, he ran over some of the more interesting parts of those conversations in his head. After all, part of that conversation was what had provided his inspiration for tonight's story.

It had begun as an exasperated comment to Kantor, which he had wisely blocked since the Weaponsmaster would probably not appreciate his thoughts being disrupted at that moment.

"Tell me, Kantor, is there something in the water near the Karsite border that makes Heralds from there or the hold turn into statues when they are stressed?"

An amused snort shook in the back of Skif's head. "Unlikely. No, that's just Alberich. Though you are right, all three of his delindas do as well. Two of them are from Haven though, so I'm afraid you can't blame the water for all of them."

"Delindas?"

"It's a Karsite word. Means darling or my girl roughly. There are only three female Heralds that Alberich both respects and is close enough to for him to call them that. Actually five, but Herald Kerowyn and Herald Keren might leave Alberich with no arm if he chose to call them that."

"I've heard him call Talia that, but small wonder! She really does seem like the little bird that Dirk calls her at times."

"Myste and Selenay are the other two. No, its the mission. I'm willing to vouch for Rolan that it is stressing Talia even worse than it is Alberich. And from that scene you saw yesterday, you know what is going on."

"I am still here you know." complained Cymry, with a firm shove to Skif's mind that made him laugh.

"Not that any of us are likely to forget" Kantor retorted "But I have an obligation to my Chosen to keep him from digging too deep of a hole in that brain of his. Unlike the floor of the salle, he can't replace that if he wears it out!"

He left Kantor to work with Alberich. He knew from his own talks with Alberich that this mission would bring up some of the Weaponsmaster's own personal little hells, particularly just what it was like to be in one of those fires that were being set. And Talia, well, he knew the Queen's Own well enough to know that the very thought of returning to the hold could make the normally sweet Herald frightened and mulish as an untrained goat! To have this happening among her people, and to outcasts like she had been, that was beyond words.

There was something more bothering the rest of them though, or he'd eat his hat!

"Skif, you don't own a hat!" came the instant reply from a laughing Cymry.

"The point is the same!" he said. And indeed it was. If that was one thing he had learned by being thief, it was how to read people. After all, knowing what mood a man was in might keep a smart thief from getting his head bashed in if his hand slipped. And there was something going on between the other three that had nothing to do with the assignment. It wasn't personal for Talia, that he was sure of. No, she had the look that she had when she came back from doing a bit of MindHealing with Devan. So whatever it was had to do with Alberich and Myste, and if the name that Alberich had shouted this morning when he saw Herald Myste was any hint -

"Cymry, how long have Alberich and Myste known each other?" he asked, hoping that his tone conveyed innocent curiosity rather than the worry which was building up in him.

"None of your business!" came the icy retort from Myste's Aleirian.

"If you stick your nose too deep into this den, young ferret, don't be surprised if the wolf bites it."

Kantor quoted, leaving Skif in no doubt of just what color that wolf's coat would be.

"Well, if you fry the Queen's Own by having her keep whatever is going on under control, it most damn well is my business!" he replied, surprised that Kantor would accuse him of being curious for no reason. He was a thief, not a gossip. Thieves always had a good reason for thier curiousity.

"Then you can deal with untangling an unacknowledged Lifebond!" both companions retorted.

"Well, technically half acknowledged if you count -" Kantor added, pausing significantly to imply the rest. "and since before Alberich was Weaponsmaster in answer to your first question."

Bright Havens! A Lifebond unacknowledged this long! Admittedly, if Myste had some of the same empathetic issues that some of the Heralds with Lifebonds had, she might well constantly be sporting a series of invisible bruises and black eyes. On the other hand, acknowledged or not, if anyone found out that Alberich had a Lifebond with the clumsiest Herald in the Heraldic circle?

"Besides the inevitable shock and teasing at the idea of Herald Stone Heart finding a true love? He'd be a sitting duck if his enemies knew!"

Which might explain why Kantor and Aleirian where so titchy on the subject.

"My apologies to you both Kantor, Aleirian." he said with a bow in his saddle. "I have no intention of making the lives of your Chosen miserable with this, but I was worried about them since they are both friends to me, and a good part of the reason I was welcome in the Collegium. Besides Cymry." he added, knowing that Cymry's Choice would have overridden any objections.

"None taken, Master Thief" Aleirian chuckled. "Besides, a little teasing or humor might keep them from taking themselves to seriously."

From that point though, he had mostly spoken with Cymry, the playful banter that was so familiar for them. For if he believed the other two Companions, and there was no reason he shouldn't on this, then it was probably best for him to stand back away from this for a while. He had seen enough broken heads back when he lived at the Hollybush, and then with Bazie to know just what interfering in this matter would earn him.

That bit of conversation had still been floating through his mind when he had been trying to think of a story to tell around the fire tonight. It was not often that you got four Heralds working together, especially one with the musical abilities of Talia and two rather skilled storytellers, even if him and Myste weren't Bards. He had settled on a tale that Dirk had taught him, one of an odd collection of outKingdom tales which included stories about a country which had a Thieves Guild like Skif used to imagine. This one was from a good bit closer, from an area near the Karse and Hardorn border, and not some simple lover's ballad either. So, with a quick drink of spring water, he settled into the tale of Captain Neduart and his pursuit of a colonel's daughter named Mergerit and the turbulent journey of the peacetime troops scavenging for supplies. It was a sad tale but full of a cheeky wit, and if anyone noticed that the personalities of the captain or his lady love had been filled out a little by Skif's imagination, no one said anything. There were a few more stories from everyone and a ballad or two which let everyone unwind their tightened nerves and muscles enough to discuss strategy. Even Skif's mouth dropped when he heard Alberich sing a Karsite army song about what type of punishment would be met out to any soldier caught drinking too much, which Myste translated with a good bit of tongue in cheek commentary. He had a rather pleasant voice in spite of its gruffness, which from the muffled snorts coming from outside the Waystation, was a surprise to the Companions as well as their Chosen. But once he finished, his face settled into its normal grim lines, letting everyone know that before they got too relaxed, they needed to discuss their mission. And while this was the most relaxed that any of them, except perhaps Myste, had seen Alberich, there was no doubt in there mind that, in spite of the closeness they had with the Weaponsmaster, duty was still in the forefront of his mind. And for the rest of the night, until they were exhausted, the four Heralds and their Companions began to discuss the subterfuge which they hoped would keep them alive.