Jokad (and then Jovik and Jokad)
Now Jokad, he just finds it all a bit weird. You see, he isn't a "hero", he is a Shoanti. All Shoanti are brave. They are born brave. But they aren't city people, and they aren't used to THIS many people, and they certainly are not used to having dinners with noblemen, and having noble women stroking his arm after too much wine and telling him how big and strong and brave and heroic he is.
He doesn't particularly like these ladies. They have a whole lot less class than Amryl, despite her being an inn-owner's daughter in a frontier town. His thoughts kept turning to her more and move over the days. And the more people wanted to talk to the great warrior, and the more they pressed him to regale them with his tales, the more he wanted to escape back to Sandpoint.
But he was trapped here for a time. He needed to get his armour made, and it was coming along nicely. The armourer was a fantastic craftsman. An ancient man with four strong grandsons who worked the forge, and his two middle-aged sons running the front of shop, but it was the old man who did all the measurements, who painstakingly drew out the amazing wolf-head shoulder plates and breastplate. He was a genius, and while a little sullen and prone to snappiness, he was, in Jokad's eyes, a true artist. He was also going to be very rich, after Jokad's order, and he liked to tell the young Shoanti, at least once a day, that when he got the final payment he was going to buy himself some golden earplugs so that he could escape the nagging of his wife in style.
WHen Jovik left, Jokad had been desperate to go with him, but he had had to stay behind. His fittings where still proceeding, and more importantly, his war-horse, ordered from a famous trainer near Korvosa, was due to arrive any day now, and it would take several days of training before Jokad would be able to take full delivery of the horse.
But, when that was all done (and the beast was magnificent, a truely beautiful grey beast with gentle eyes and a quick mind, called "Mist"), Jokad immediately set north for Sandpoint, his saddlebags laden with his treasure, and gifts for Amryl (fine clothes and boots that he had really struggled to choose, but in the end had found a genuinely nice nobleman's daughter who, one night at a party, had got chatting to him and had offered to help. She was the first geniune person he had met in weeks, and the items she selected were stunning, if a little expensive!!!) and her family (some sweet preserves and spices).
The ride north was short. Mist was strong and willing, and could cover 30, even 40 miles in a day. It did not take long to reach Sandpoint, and although he knew he would have to return to Magnimar soon, Jokad felt like he had come home.
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Amryl - just as beautiful as when he had last seen her, and this time there was no shyness, no hiding from her father, just a scream of delight and a mad dash forward to throw her arms around Jokad. Only then did she blush and pull back a little. The packed afternoon crowd in the inn were staring at her, and at Jokad. Her father walked in from the store room, carrying a side of dried ham to slice, saw Jokad, saw his daughter, and smiled warmly.
A fine lunch followed, with Amryl darting back and forth between her duties to bring him the finest cuts of meat, refill his ale, and catch a few quick words.
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He had caught up with Jovik shortly afterwards, feeling full and refreshed after the long ride. Jovik looked distracted and bored.
Sandpoint had grown too small for Jovik, and his insane wealth didn't allow him any outlet in this town. Sure, it had been lovely to see his family, but Shalelu's distress and departure had left him morose. In the days since his mind had grown bored.
He convinced Jokad that a night of drinking would go down well, and it did, but the two men's talk soon turned to adventure, and love. Jovik wanted to escape, Jokad wanted to escape into Amryl's arms.
Jokad's desire won out, and Jovik slunk home to another quiet night at him home.
-----
Amryl was delighted with her gifts. Delighted, but a little overwhelmed. She looked at the finery after a hard shift in the inn, her beautiful curls heavy with the smoke and smells of the day. She cried then, looking at these beautiful things, realising how far from her everyday life of hard grind in rough-wearing practical clothes, up to her elbows in dishes, or carrying large tankards that slopped their froth over her apron. These were clothes for a lady. She was a tavern wench.
Jokad tried to comfort her. He hadn't expected tears. Women were confusing.
The next day Jovik could only agree.
The two men passed a few weeks together in Sandpoint, but as the days progressed they both became restless, spending more time out on hunts, or visiting the farmsteads on round-about-walks.
Each night Jokad would steal away to spend time with Amryl, until eventually the pair dropped all pretence and started to stay the night with one another.
One night, as Jokad sits up playing cards with Jovik in his small rented apartment near the marketplace, Garridan turns up. The man's face makes it clear he is not happy. Jovik casts Jokad a glance that at once Jokad reads as 'do you need me?'. Jokad shakes a negative, and Jovik melts into the night.
It is not a comfortable discussion. Garridan orders Jokad to stay away from his daughter until he is ready to come to Garridan's door and ask formally for his daughter's hand in marriage. Until Jokad is ready for that, he should disappear himself. His daughter is messed up, dreaming of things that will not come to pass, and her work is suffering. More than that, people are talking, and one day Garridan wants his daughter to marry, but if she gets carried along by a wandering adventurer who gets her pregnant and then leaves her for adventures further afield, what then. WHAT THEN? What happens when Jokad's head gets separated from his shoulders by some demon?
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Amryl did not come that night, or the next. The day after that Jovik and Jokad decided to leave Sandpoint and head south to Magnimar again.
Both men felt heavy of heart on the journey south. Jovik felt as if his world had grown to such a degree that he could never fit back in to Sandpoint life, and didn't want to fit back in. The town just reminded him of how narrow life had been. He worried about Shalelu, and he worried about the fact he worried .... did this mean he was serious about her? Did he want to be serious about her? Was she serious about him? If she was, why was she so ready to disappear east at the first opportunity.....?
Jokad knew Amryl was thinking of him. He knew she would be crying herself to sleep at night. He knew she loved him. The only thing he didn't know was what he felt.