Wandering Introductions

Reise had no aura. Orla took a step back in caution, as if worried he was yet another fiend of Gray Haven, but even the undead gave off auras...

Noticing the way she was looking at him, Reise smiled as if caught out. “Oops, I forgot about that. Yeah, that one's going to be a little tough to explain.”

“What are you?” she asked, staring at him warily.

“I told you already. A wayfarer, of no fixed abode.” He motioned for her to come along with him down the nearby slope. “I'll tell you more when we have some privacy.”

Orla stayed rooted to the spot, not making any move to follow.

Reise smiled as if perfectly understanding her mistrust of him. “I get that you don't want to go off alone with a stranger, but I'm really nice once you get to know me.” He thought for a moment how to proceed and then glanced over at the two warriors facing off with each other, and sighed. “I'm going to really need to get a sword...”

“A sword?”

“Yeah, if we keep running into crazies I'll have to start carrying one. You like his sword?” Reise glanced again at Jeke.

Orla nodded. “There is naught more beautiful than the sun, whose blessed warmth makes all things grow.”

“Somehow I thought you'd say that.” Reise pulled a piece of candy out of a coat pocket and popped it in his mouth. “I know a man who knows an orc who knows an elf in Varland who could get me a line on a sunblade, but I wouldn't want to be a copycat. They're so rude and pathetic, copycats, don't you think? Usually trying to mimic something superior, something they're too lazy to come up with themselves. So if I get a sword, it'll be a kind nobody else has, because I like to be unique. But that's just me.”

“I think I understand what you mean,” Orla said. “Identity is important, and uniqueness is a person's real magic.”

Reise beamed in approval of her words. “Well put. Identity and I have a complicated relationship. But as far as uniqueness goes, I have to admit to having an unfair advantage there. I don't have to try too hard to be unique because being unique comes naturally to me. I'm so unique and different there isn't anybody else like me in this world, and so I am the most magical person you will ever meet.”

“That's quite the boast,” Orla remarked with a smile, starting to warm to his confident, whimsical manner.

The young man's humourous gaze held hers and she noted his brown amber eyes had an older, wise quality to them. “I'm not boasting, and I can say the same about you. There is no one else like you either.”

She gave a modest laugh. “How so?”

“Because you're the kindest, gentlest girl alive,” Reise answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

The extraordinary compliment and the way he said it made her raise an eyebrow. He continued to suck on the hard candy in his mouth and there was the sound of it lightly clacking against his teeth, giving her a sense of déjà vu.

“That candy,” Orla said suddenly, smelling the faint honey-flavoured scent on his breath.

“Would you like some?” Reise pulled out a tiny crumpled brown paper bag. “They're good, but not very sweet.”

Her silver-shot blue eyes riveted to the name of the store on the bag, then back to his young face. “Where... where did you get that?”

Reise shrugged carelessly. “I'm not sure exactly. Some copper-candy store or oddities shop. Any reasonable sized city has one. I used to hang around them a lot when I was growing up, working in a few, and that's when I fell in love with the odd and the rare and the exotic. Despite my name, I'm like a magpie. Plucking random things here and there to line my nest. But the name I got is good enough. Reise Hund or... Wandering Dog.”

Thinking his life story sounded somehow familiar, it took a few seconds for the words to penetrate her brain, and then Orla gasped with shock and stumbled backwards, the breath pummelled from her lungs.

Grinning, Reise reached out and steadied her. “Yeah, Wandering Dog. That's what Reise Hund translates to in the Varlandic tongue, and it's a fitting name for me, don't you think? I never stay in one place too long and once I find something I want to sink my teeth in, I don't let go until I get the deal I want. I'm no dragon, treasure has little value for me aside from being able to be traded, and I enjoy the deal more than the coin.”

Orla continued to silently stare, gaping in astonishment at the brash young man standing before her, intently taking in his face and hair, noticing the almost familial resemblance he bore as if he were a son or little brother to a person she knew so well. Beyond the reminiscent physical features, she recognised similarities in his eccentric mannerisms, his cadence, his particular choice of words. She felt overwhelmed and pressed a hand to her heart as she slowly accepted the unbelievable as reality.

Reise unslung a small pack off his shoulders that was decorated with yellow and white daisies and handed it to her. “I found this lying outside in the snow and thought it might be yours.”

“Yes, ‘tis mine, thank you,” Orla managed. “I must have dropped it on the mountainside or down in the valley.” She absently felt around in it to make sure nothing had fallen out. “So, if I may ask, what brought you all the way up here to Gray Haven, Master Hund?”

“Call me Reise, please,” he replied, with a wink. “And I just spotted this old fort in the distance and came looking for any kind of relics I could find. But then all hell broke loose and when I saw you coming through the window I thought you might be a gargoyle or something—no offense—so I ducked into the wardrobe. My nerves are still a little shaky.”

“I'm sorry to have given you such a fright.”

Reise raked a hand through his hair. “Oh no, it's not that. I had a bad fall earlier, and was out of it for a little while. But I'm feeling much better now. Much better. Better than I’ve felt in ages.”

“I can believe that,” Orla replied in amazement, nearly overcome with happiness—like all was right with the world again. She blinked back tears and on impulse stepped forward and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

“Hey, how about I grab one of those horses and get us out here?” he whispered into her ear.

She nodded. “Yes, please. I really don't like this place.”

“Yeah, it’s really not your scene, is it?” Reise let her go and ran his hands down her arms, taking the chill away. “So, Orla,” he said, raising his voice a bit so the others could hear him again clearly. “I feel like we have this connection, you know? I never talk about my past to anyone, but you have this crazy effect on me I can't explain. It's almost like we're meant to be together. That we could even be soul mates or something. I know that sounds corny but it’s how I feel.”

A smile broke across Orla's delicate elfin face, her great sense of relief easing away all her anxieties and allowing her to start to relax. “Soul mates might be a little much since we have only just met, haven’t we? But there does seem to be a connection between us; I won't deny it.”

“Some magic? Chemistry? So you're feeling it too then?” Reise laughed boyishly, lacing his fingers together, taking amusement in the situation. “Let me see what I can do to secure us some transportation. I'm pretty good with horses. Well, actually more at talking to them than riding them. Not that I can't do that too, when the occasion calls for it. It's a long way back to civilization and I have this odd desire to visit Karavoss. I think I'll ask Jake Karen there if he'll stay with us a bit longer. I have heard his name before from fellow travelers and it never hurts to have a Weapon’s Master along on a journey. Whatever faults the guy has, he sure can fight.”

“His name is Jeke Kerron,” Orla corrected.

“What? That’s what I said, Jake Karen,” Reise called back, trudging off through the snow, chuckling.

Watching him go, Orla drew a soft, thick blanket out of her pack and wrapped her head and shoulders against the icy wind and falling snow that stole the warmth from her. She hoped Reise wouldn't antagonise the great human warrior who had come to their rescue. The farther from the cities the less safe the roads tended to be and if they encountered any more Sarnian Witch Hunters they would have some explaining to do riding one of the knight's fine horses. The storm might give them some cover though.

She rubbed her forehead, feeling an unpleasant twinge that came into her. She carefully opened her psionic senses a little more to see what it was, and as soon as she did Joseph's inner turmoil washed over her like a furious deluge, stinging the empathic centres of her brain. Wincing, she looked around and saw where he was strapped to Barrel, continuing to thrash and ramble in his sleep. His tortured psyche was consumed with blinding emotions that were wildly shifting between tremendous grief and a pure boiling rage that flared brightly to her mystical sight.

Was Grey Haven like a magnet, drawing strange and troubled souls to its doorstep? Joseph's aura was very odd and like nothing she had ever seen either. The magical signature was a bizarre combination of Infernal... and Elven?

Orla was tired, exhausted from the day and it's happenings but she could not stand by and idly watch someone suffering before her eyes. She concentrated and reached out for the man's mind, probing it gently, trying to break the feedback loop he was trapped in and ease his mental anguish. Her personal powers were not as strong as they once were, so she worked slowly and deliberately to avoid causing any inadvertent harm.

Reise slapped Jeke on the shoulder and glanced at Sunder. “Don’t be a bellend, lower your sword. He's covered in armor and doesn’t strike me as even human.”

When Jeke lowered Helios, Sunder lowered his own sword and nodded toward Joseph. “I came here for that man, but if you are willing to be responsible for a raving maniac, Kerron, he’s all yours. Lithwick is not accused of any crime, but he is wanted for questioning in relation to several unsolved murders in Varland, so I would not turn my back on him if I were you.”

“What about me? Do I seem dangerous at all?” Reise asked cockily as he walked past over to the horses whose owners no longer needed them.

Sunder didn't dignify the knave’s question with a response but continued speaking seriously to Jeke, one warrior to another. “He and that girl don't look like they can fight. I expect you will see them both to safety?”