Aldren Morathus drummed his fingers on the table in heavy, repetitive bursts as he waited for his ale to arrive. It had been ages since he had last seen the serving girl. Aldren ran his non-drumming hand through his long hair, sighing from his toes as he looked back on the awkward and uncomfortable morning he had had with his new traveling companions. As soon as that ale arrived, things would be so much better...
At last! The serving girl smiled brightly at him as she arrived with his drink, lingering a little longer than required as she leaned in closely, setting the large, frothy mug in front of him. "Let me know if there's anything else I can get you, Sir," she cooed at him with an exaggerated wink as she turned to walk away. His eyes followed her receding form as his hand reached out for the mug of ale, closing around empty air. He turned his attention back to the table in front of him to see the form of Lady ir'Tain settling in to the chair across from him, his ale in her hand.
"Nightwood Ale, is it? How thoughtful of you to order this for me, Aldren. I just hope a lady such as myself can handle such heady fare." Niv raised the mug to her lips and threw it back, emptying it in seconds. She slammed it down on the table in front of Aldren with a grin. "We're on our way to Aundair, though, not Karrnath. We'll need to start blending in with the locals." She turned her head in the direction the serving girl had walked off in and clapped her hands loudly. "Wench! Bring us a bottle of Bluevine, none of the Brelish swill your people tried to pawn off on me in Terminus. And be quick about it, lest I feed you to the wolf!"
Kiva barked happily from under the table.
"I must say, Niv, you seem to have settled into the role of the imperious noblewoman very comfortably." Aldren cocked an eyebrow. "Almost as if it comes naturally to you."
Niv grinned again. "Some old habits die hard, Aldren. I'm not sure how familiar you are with the theatrical community in Sharn. Cassa Faer owns the Art Temple - have you ever seen the shows they put on? Some of the performances there have been incredibly powerful, others have been nothing but pretentious garbage. Either way, Cassa has a deep and abiding love for new theatrical works, as well as for those who create them. A few years ago, Cassa spent the entire summer in her villa outside of Shavalant with her newest playwright plaything. And yet, somehow she was simultaneously in Sharn, overseeing that season's productions and making appearances at the finest parties in the city. How do you suppose she did that?"
"Interesting. So what made you trade in the life of Sharn's high society to run errands for a hobgoblin?"
"Have you ever been to one of those parties, Aldren? Sure, the food and drink are without peer, but the conversation is so stultifyingly, mind-numbingly boring. All the jockeying for position and backbiting... far more trouble than it's worth. Maybe I just wanted to get out of Sharn for a while. Perhaps I killed someone important, or stole something valuable. Maybe I'm running off to meet a forbidden lover." Niv leaned forward, gazing into Aldren's eyes. "Or maybe I've fallen in love with you, and I'm following you wherever you go."
Aldren's face turned bright red, as he stuttered and stammered.
Niv leaned back in her chair with a hearty laugh. "Don't flatter yourself there, soldier boy! That's what some of us like to call a 'joke'. I'm assuming you've heard of those before? Or perhaps I really am in love with you, but I'm just trying to keep you on your toes?"
The serving girl arrived with a bottle of Bluevine wine and two glasses. "Finally," Niv exclaimed in an exasperated manner, "I was afraid I'd die of thirst." She looked Aldrn straight in the eye as she continued. "By the way, lass, your flirtations with my retainer here will get you nowhere. He's a eunuch like the rest of my servants." The girls eyes widened in shock, and she hurried away, trying to stifle a laugh as Aldren's face screwed up with shock and anger.
Niv's smile grew even broader as she poured the wine into their glasses. "My my, Aldren, your face is almost as red as the pendant on your chest! I haven't embarrassed you by any chance now, have I?"
"Are you always this maddening with everyone? Or have you singled me out for your abuse?" Aldren raised his glass of wine muttering into it, "I can see why your pet warforged exploded on you back there."
Niv raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps i'm just immersing myself in the role I'm playing here. Perhaps I act this way to keep people off their guard and lower their defenses, or to keep them at a distance. Perhaps I'm just normally an instigator by nature. Finding out which one is the truth, or which ones are the truth, should be half the fun for you! As far as Autumn goes, he and I had a difference of opinion, and an argument resulted. That happens between friends from time to time. If you had any of your own, you might know that. He's most likely sulking now, but he'll be fine in a little while." She leaned forward, her finger jutting towards Aldren's face. "If you call him my pet ever again, though, I'll be feeding you to the wolf instead of that serving girl of yours!"
Kiva barked again from under the table.
Niv settled back into her seat, taking a sip of wine. "Having said that, I'd like to turn your own question back around at you. What lead you to give up the soldiering life and become an errand boy for a hobgoblin? That seems like a long way for one of Rekkenmark's finest to fall."
"Well, there's a bit of a story behind that."
"We have plenty of time before we reach our destination."
"And I'd much rather keep some of the details to myself, at least for now."
"Naturally." Niv blinked and flashed an innocent smile.
"Alright then. I suppose I should start from the beginning." Aldren sighed heavily, clearing his throat. "I told you yesterday that my armor has been handed down from generation to generation. My sword is a family heirloom as well. My family used to have an even more important birthright. The Morathus line was once known as ir'Morathus. We were merely minor nobility, but able to trace our lineage back as far as some of the major noble houses. When I was a young boy, Regent Moranna of Karrnath outlawed the Order of the Emerald Claw. My grandfather, who I was named after, was a brilliant and famous general in the Karrnathi army. Unfortunately, he was also involved with the Emerald Claw. He had joined the Order in the belief that it was simply a patriotic organization serving the King and Country. He claimed to be unaware of their terrorist activities, and surrendered himself to the warlords who had remained loyal to the Regent." Aldren refilled his glass of wine, his eyes heavy and dark. "He was executed on my fourth birthday, along with three of my uncles who had also joined the Order. My father was his youngest son, and no soldier; he had been left in charge of the family estate while his brothers had gone off to war with their father. Our family was stripped of our noble title and our ancestral home. Taking pity on him, a distant cousin made my father his majordomo, saving us from destitution. Were it not for that act of kindness, my father may have been forced to sell the armor and sword given to him after my grandfather's execution. Giving up such heirlooms would surely have killed him."
"I spent most of my time with the children of the other servants as I was growing up, kept separate from the noble family. I grew into a strong and healthy young man, and spent most of my time working in the stables as soon as I was old enough. When I began to show some promise, the noble made me his squire, much to my father's chagrin."
Niv nodded. "He didn't want his son going off to war like the father and brothers he lost."
"Indeed. I was his only child; the last of a once noble line. All he wanted for me was to live a long and happy life. He wasn't as concerned with ancestry and lineage and the burdens that they entail as some others were."
"Some others...like your mother? I notice you haven't mentioned her yet."
Aldren emptied his glass of wine, its delicate flavor seemingly lost on him at the moment. "As I said, I'd much rather keep some of the details to myself. As much as it pained my father to witness, I excelled under my lord's tutelage. He often told me that I resembled his father more and more with each day. My lord nominated me for entry into the Rekkenmark Academy, and paid for me to attend it. There were always whispers about my lineage and my grandfather there, but I assume that my lord had called in a few favors. Also, at that stage in the war, Karrnath could not easily afford to turn aside promising young soldiers or officers, no matter their background. Rekkenmark changed me forever. I had grown up with my head full of tales of brave knights and soldiers performing great deeds. In addition to swordplay, my training as a squire had taught me right from wrong and how to conduct myself as befits a knight of Karrnath. It was Rekkenmark, however, that took those ideas and that foundation and forged me into the man I wanted to be."
"After graduating from the academy, I saw action in Cyre, Thrane and Aundair, scoring a number of decisive victories against our foes. My sword was a righteous, holy fury. Wave after wave of Karrnath's enemies fell before me. The might and wisdom of my forebears coursed through my blood, and I became a vessel for their holy wrath as I served my king and my country with glory and valor. And then..." Aldren cleared his throat roughly, "then I lost my taste for it." He smiled wanly. "But that is a story for another time. I had risen to the rank of Captain, but I resigned my commission and walked away. I wandered for a long while, waking up one morning in Sharn with my face in a mug of ale to find out that the Last War had finally ended. I took up a number of mercenary contracts over time; an escort mission here, guarding a warehouse there, and so on, always making sure I had just enough to keep my mug full. I was just about out of coin entirely when one of Meksoor's agents approached me with this job. Since I didn't have many other prospects presenting themselves to me at the time, it seemed like as good an idea as any." Aldren spread his hands widely. "It seems that I have run out of both wine to drink and a story to tell."
"Interesting. Perhaps I was too quick to judge you, Aldren. There might actually be a heart underneath that armor." Niv stood up and stretched as Kiva climbed out from under the table to her side. "I think I've given Autumn enough time to mope. I'm going to see how he's doing. You can finish this." Niv paused as she passed by Aldren, leaning across him to set her wine glass in front of him. He felt the warmth of her body as she brushed close by, and then the cold sensation of a dagger point pressed into the back of his neck. "I've just got one question for you, Aldren. Meksoor met with Autumn and a male changeling named Mok. When we met, you greeted us as Autumn and Niv. I'm dying to know why. Or, quite possibly, you are, depending on what I think of your answer."
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
