Marienburg, the Wasteland

Falk

One good thing about being a warrior-priest was easy access to the healers of Shallya. Because she was a pacifistic goddess, she had no warrior-priests of her own. Even if they abhorred violence, even the most idealistic of the Dove's servants couldn't deny that it was by the risk and effort of others that they were able to keep their hands free of blood. In exchange, it meant they were able to heal others better than even the finest surgeons in the Old World.

A prayer spoken over Falk's wounded leg had sealed the flesh and cleansed any rot from it. The injury was not fully healed, of course, but he would not have to worry about infection or weeks of convalescing. Falk did need some time to heal, however. And what better place for that than Marienburg?

"...I'd give you two. Hell, I've seen you shoot, I'd believe two. But three goblins with one arrow? No." Falk decried, waving off Draga's claim with one hand and drinking from his tankard with the other.

"Are you calling me a liar, Falk?" Draga challenged.

"Do you think a true servant of Lady Verena would do so lightly?" Falk countered.

The two warrior-priests again found themselves in the common room Emerging Sturgeon. It was busy, as it always seemed to be except for the smallest hours of the morning.

"Psh. Maybe." Draga said into her pint. "Either way, if I never have to go back to the Border Princes, it'll be too soon. I don't know why anyone would ever do that to themselves."

"Some people have no choice. For all its dangers, it is a place where a person can start again." Falk said.

"It always comes off more as a place where people can run away from the troubles they cause. Not a fresh start, just a…pause on their old one." Draga mused.

"Not everyone is the source of their own problems, Draga." Falk said.

Draga half-grinned. "And how many innocent people do you see running away to the Border Princes?"

Falk was about to point out that entire caravans of settlers were known to head down there. The Border Princes was a region of petty principalities, a place of warlords, exiles, and refugees. He understood what Draga was getting at, reductive as the Blackbow was being.

Draga finished her pint. "Well, I think I'm going to turn in early tonight. I need to get out of the city for a little bit. I'm feeling cooped up. Think I'll go fishing tomorrow."

"Why not hunting? Track down some goblins and maybe you can go for four with one arrow. Or, barring them, four rabbits." Falk suggested.

Draga stood, thumping Falk's shoulder with a fist as she went by. "I'll just imagine they look like you."

Falk laughed, then said, "good luck."

"Sleep well, Falk." Draga said as she headed for the stairs.

Falk smiled as he watched his friend leave. Friends like Draga were rarity, one Falk hadn't been sure he was ever going to find outside of the military. He was glad to be proven wrong with that.

The Truthblade ordered another beer, content to sit in the ambient noise of the tavern for a little while. He did his best not to habitual analyze the patrons around him, searching for things they might be trying to hide. After serving as a Truthblade for almost six years, he couldn't help but pick out certain details after even brief glances. Here, a man was subtly pulling off his wedding ring before talking to someone. There, a patron kept making expressions of distaste after every drink, yet drank eagerly. They were small things. Meaningless to him. Yet it was something Falk struggled to "shut off", as it were. It had saved his life too many times.

Another thing he habitually did was look towards the front door every time someone new walked in, which how he spotted Bianca the moment she entered the Emerging Sturgeon. It had been almost a week since the incident at the Ghost Lodge. Word about the disappearance of the lodge had quickly spread through Marienburg. Speculation abounded as to what had happened. The government of Marienburg had dispatched a veritable army of soldiers to keep curious eyes from the area. "Ensuring the site posed no danger" was the official line, but Falk knew the truth. Skaven bodies were being disposed of. Not for the first time, Falk glumly wondered how many soldiers would be following those skaven into "disposal."

In that week since the Ghost Lodge, Falk had only seen Bianca a few times. The Radiant had come to make sure he was on the mend, to deliver news surrounding the Herr Razor case. To see her here was a pleasant surprise.

Bianca spotted him from across the tavern and approached. She had purchased a new coat, it seemed, this one a deeper shade of yellow that was closer to gold than the one Falk had ruined. The Radiant lacked her shoulder cape, and she wore her long coat open to reveal a shirt that left her midriff exposed. Rather than stare at this, Falk raised his eyes to Bianca's head under the pretense of inspecting the wound in her forehead. It was scabbed over and would heal with only a thin scar.

If you don't, I will. Draga had said. Falk wasn't sure if his friend had actually been pursuing that statement while he had been cooped up and unable to move around much. He decided it would be better to assume she was. Falk had no desire to step on Draga's toes.

Besides. Falk thought with a soft snort through his nose. Not hard to figure out which of us is easier on the eyes.

"Brother Falkenwulf. I see you're partaking in the only true medicine." Bianca noted, putting her hands on the back of the chair Draga had vacated, leaning on it. The scent of cinnamon reached Falk's nose.

"Whenever I can help it." Falk replied. "Please, sit. You just missed Draga."

"I was surprised to see you sitting by yourself. However brief our association has been, it's clear you two go well together. I almost felt like a bit of an intruder." Bianca said as she sat down across from Falk.

"Intruder? Hell no. You fit in pretty naturally. And neither of us would've walked away from the G-...from what happened if you hadn't been there." Falk said,

Bianca smiled, a warm expression. Her usual confidence wavered and she looked bashful. "You are…kind to say so, Brother Falkenwulf."

"Oh, I think we're past the whole 'Brother This' and 'Sister That' stage." Falk said, motioning for a beer to be brought to Bianca. "And, unrelated to that, Bianca, I remember I owe you a beer."

"Why do you think I'm here, Falk? I wouldn't dare allow a Truthblade make himself a liar." Bianca said with a wink.

They both laughed. Bianca accepted a tankard from a server, then held it out before her.

"To our victory." Bianca toasted.

"And to spilled beers and ruined coats." Falk added.

Bianca made a face, rolling her eyes with a good-natured smile. They tipped their tankards back.

"So. What's next for you two?" Bianca asked as she set down her mug.

"Reikland. We'll be taking a river boat back to Altdorf in two days." Falk answered. "Rumor is there's a brayherd of beastmen gathering in the Reikwald. We intend to do our part in taking care of it."

"I'd say they won't know what hit them, but you're rather hard to miss." Bianca said with a snicker.

"Yeah, yeah, never heard that one before." Falk made a show of waving off her comment before taking a dram from his pint, then asking, "what about you?"

"Some other disaster in Marienburg will take my attention, I'm sure." Bianca said. She leaned back in her chair. "And will continue to be honored to be one of her protectors."

Falk thought for a few moments. There was something he had been considering. He wasn't sure he was going to get another chance to ask about it. So, he went for it.

"You know…we worked pretty well together, us three…", Falk began.

One thing every Truthblade needed to be able to do was read people, and Falk could see Bianca already knew where he was going. So, he stopped talking.

"Myrmidia knows I would like that. But when I say I'm stationed in Marienburg, I don't mean it's by choice. The Radiants need me here. And, for all its flaws, I love this city. I truly do. Perhaps a day will come when I leave it behind to take my skills elsewhere. That day has not yet come. I am sorry, Falk." Bianca apologized.

"No, no. Don't be sorry. Your dedication to your duty is admirable." Falk said.

"Your words are appreciated. That does mean, however, that your path must bring back to Marienburg at some point. After all", Bianca planted an elbow on the table, leaning forward and arching an eyebrow, "since our duel ended in a draw, we'll have to have a rematch at some point, won't we?"

Falk tried to formulate a reply, but he looked into those warm, brown eyes and words escaped him. For some reason they made him think of coffee. He remembered being snowed in at a roadside inn just a couple days outside Middenheim. They were lucky; supplies were well stocked and the owner had been a generous sort of woman. Falk remembered coming in from chopping wood and sitting in front of a fire, listening to Draga tell some tall tale while everyone drank coffee with a little sugar sprinkled into it. It was oddly specific, Falk knew. But that's what he thought of.

"Has your mind already reached Altdorf, Truthblade?" Bianca asked.

Falk looked away, trying to hide the blush in his cheeks. "Uh, right, yes. Yes, we will have to do that."

Bianca smirked. "I thought you might agree."

The Radiant remained for a few more drinks, which surprised Falk. He had assumed she would accept the pint he theoretically owed her out of politeness before excusing herself since Draga wasn't there, but by the end of the night they'd both put several away. Bianca had gotten Falk to ramble on about war stories from his days in the State Troops. When he started feeling his eyelids droop, Falk knew it was time to call it a night.

Paying his tab, Falk stood. Bianca did the same.

"It was a pleasure to share the evening with you, Bianca. I'll be sure to nag Draga to bring us back here before long. I'm sure she'll be eager to see you again." Falk said.

"Just Draga?" Bianca asked.

Falk blinked, his beer-soaked mind taking a few moments to process things.

"Well, obviously not just Draga. I'll be looking forward to it, too. Quite a bit, really. But…you know." The Truthblade said.

"I'm not so sure I do know." Bianca said, tilting her head to one side. In spite of her statement, there was a knowing tone in her voice, like she knew more about what Falk was saying than Falk himself did.

Realizing he was only digging a hole deeper and deeper with every word, Falk rubbed his eyes.

"Sorry, the ale's got my tongue flapping without a direction to fly in. Think that's a sign I should get to bed before I do anymore damage." Falk said.

"Your tongue will find the right direction by the time you come through Marienburg again, I'm sure." Bianca assured him. "Goodnight, Falk, and may Myrmidia light your way."

It wasn't until about a week later, heading down the River Reik and bound for Altdorf, that Falk randomly remembered the conversation, replayed it in his mind, and realized what he missed.