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Message: <blockquote data-quote="UnDfind" data-source="post: 892877" data-attributes="member: 2744">Gunier drew a deep breath, going a little red.  Mouse is what Peg had nicknamed him since he was little.  She had told him he was like a little mouse scurrying under foot.  Always needed shooing to leave, but too cute to harm.  He would have been laughed out of the academy if his classmates had ever heard that one.  "How are you, Mistress Peg?"Peg put on a show of being taken aback.  "Mistress?  So the Guild has put propriety into you after all!  I didn't think it was possible for you to learn manners, Academy or not."  She had the warmth he remembered in her words, and he couldn't help but smile.  The serving girl came out into the common room carrying a plate.  She set it down in front of Gunier, and looked at him expectantly.  He started to pull his money pouch from his belt, but Peg stopped him with a frown, saying with mock-severity, "Nonsense, Mar!  The mice always dine free of charge."  He grimaced a bit at that, but decided not to complain.  The serving girl looked at Peg, concern plain on her face before nodding and walking back towards the kitchen.Gunier knew something had happened.  It was obvious that Peg was upset about it, but didn’t want to spoil Gunier’s return with her concerns.  Maybe the inn wasn’t doing well.  The Inn of Two Hammers had always been a decent establishment, making more than enough money to continue running.  Even in the Autumn months when business slowed there were always patrons here.  Things could have changed.  It had been two years since Gunier had been here.Deciding to be forward and just ask instead of waiting for Peg to feel it was the right time, Gunier said, “What’s wrong Peg?”Peg took a deep breath, losing much of her composure.  “It’s best if we talk about that in the morning.”  Pegs upper lip began to quiver.  She looked as though she might start crying. “Today should be a happy day.  You have finally come back home.”Gunier suddenly understood with a frightening certainty that Peg’s sadness was not from any lack of business or monetary ill-fortune.  Peg was genuinely concerned about Gunier, and how he would take the news she had to offer.  Gunier desperately hoped it had nothing to do with Peg’s sadness, but he had to ask anyway.  Gunier looked to Peg and asked, "Where's Milly, Peg?"Peg thought for a second and then sighed, her sunny demeanor vanished.  Her shoulders sagged, and her lips trembled as she said, "I had really hoped to save this news for the morning, Gunier."      Gunier only remembered Peg calling him by his name twice before.  The first was when she told him that his father had died in the city of Ruin to the south.  The second was when she told him that his mother was now stationed in Guard permanently, but she had wanted Gunier to stay in Riverside under the watchful eye of Peg.  From the look on her face he could tell that this news wasn't going to be any better.  “Maybe she’s mad at me for not writing her the last few months,” Gunier thought.  “That wouldn't be so bad, I can understand that.  I don't know why Peg's making such a fuss about it, though.”  Gunier grimaced uneasily; he knew deep down that this was something more serious."She's dead, Gunier."  Peg's face was full of sadness and more than a little concern and she had said it with a flat certainty.Gunier's composure fled as the words drifted uneasily through his head.  Dead?  She couldn't be.  Not Milly.  This had to be a joke.  A bad joke, but a joke none the less.  But the single tear running down Peg's face did not lie.  Dead...she's dead...Milly is dead.  Gunier remembered when his father died; he had not accepted it for months.  Even after the wake he did not believe it.  He remembered what seemed like days of nonstop crying in Peg's lap when the truth had finally hit him.  Memories came flooding into Gunier’s head unbidden.  Memories of Milly: her strawberry hair and upswept elven ears, her deep love of life and her sparkling emerald eyes.  Gunier had to know how.  He had to know so he might understand why something so perfect was taken from him.  "How?"  Gunier's throat clenched as he asked this, and the words came out strained.Peg stood up and walked behind Gunier to put both hands firmly on his shoulders.  "A Raver.  Two weeks ago, just north of Jolan."  Peg’s grip on his shoulders became tighter.A Raver.  One possessed by a Dark Hilt.  A Raver had killed Milly.  Not for money, not for anger, but for the pleasure of seeing her die.  Tears crept out of Gunier's eyes just as anger filled them.  He started to stand up, but was pushed back down by Peg.  He tried to stand again, and was pushed down again."No, Gunier.  No.  I've lost Milly.  I won't loose you as well now that you've returned.  I will not."  Her voice sounded strained.  "You need rest.  I'll have Mar show you to your room."  She waited for Gunier to stop struggling to stand before darting off to the kitchen.Gunier sat in brooding silence, tears rolling unabated down his cheeks.  He tried to think of revenge, hatred, anything to fuel his desire to go after the Raver right then and there.  He found that all he could do was remember Milly's face and cry.  “I am no man,” he thought. “ If I were, I'd be on Sib right now, hunting the Raver.”  Another voice in his head, still his, but this one full of contempt and sarcasm butted in; “what would you do?  Fight a Raver with your own two hands?  Where is your Hilt now?  Your precious magic?  What can you do to avenge Milly?  Nothing.  Worthless."  Anger seeped away into sadness and self-contempt, and he gripped the table edge hard to keep from screaming.  Until he was smacked hard in the back the head with a mug.  Gunier didn't bother to pick his head up from between his arms on the table.  It was less than he deserved."What did you do to her, you filthy urchin?"  The voice was Mar's but it was filled with anger.  She lowered her voice this time, but if anything it was even angrier than before.  "She told me to give you a room for free.  She gave you food for free, you scoundrel.  What did you do to her?  She's gone to bed, telling me nothing is wrong, as if I could not see her tears or hear them in her voice."  It was amazing how, even angry she still sounded like she was singing as she spoke.  Gunier felt something sharp against his side, a dagger.  He felt hot breath in his ear as the angry whisper came.  "She will not know if I kill you.  If I say you slipped out early.  No one will ever find a body downstream.  Tell me, and you may live.  Is it blackmail?  Tell me!"  She was right.  The only ships came and went upstream from here.  If she paid a few silver pieces, she could find someone who would dump his body in and keep quiet.  It was less than he deserved.  He looked up at her and nodded, "It's less than I deserve."Gunier didn't understand why there wasn't a knife plunging into his ribs.  Faintly he was relieved; he knew that he probably didn't deserve that.  At least that small part of him was still reasonable.  Still, he couldn't understand why Mar had dropped the knife, and now stared at him with a startled look on her face.  "I'm sorry," she said breathlessly.  She said she was sorry a few more times as she pulled him out of his chair, and started leading him to the stairs.  He wondered if she still wanted to kill him, and why he was leaning on her like he couldn't support his own weight.  Why wasn't he out hunting a Raver?"I can't help her..." He muttered.  "My Hilt's gone.  I'm no coward!  My Hilt's gone, I can't help her."  He pushed himself away from Mar, and stood in the hallway on top of the stairs on legs that felt like thin reeds.  He did not remember drinking much, but yet he stumbled forward like he had drunk a barrel of ale by himself.  He ended up on his knees, and Mar helped him up once again.  This time she had a look of concern on her face.  "Do you know Milly?"  Gunier asked her.  She slowly nodded her head yes.  "I can't help her.  I'm too late.  She's dead, you know.  I wonder if she'd have said yes?"  Mar looked at him oddly, guessing at the meaning of that.  "I don't know,” she said.Somehow, Gunier found himself in a room, on a bed, wearing only his shortpants, wondering how he got there and why he felt so tired.  There was a faint bitter taste in the back of his mouth as sleep took him.</blockquote>

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