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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Emiricol" data-source="post: 1933996" data-attributes="member: 469">Thrayn and his Human companions were at the Erunsil village for several days and nights. He had spent his time haggling with each of the merchants, and visiting the craftsmen to barter for their goods and supplies. By the fourth day in Ver'huin, nothing from the raid had gone untraded and the small group of three was well outfitted to move on.  Thrayn had outfitted Rongald and Dornhild with proper weapons, allowing them to trade away the poorly constructed gear they had been using, and upgraded their armor.  He had a properly provisioned and equipped horse as well, to carry their gear.      As morning arose on their final day in Ver'huin, Thrayn sat staring into the dying embers of the campfire amongst the tents of the humans, for he had found himself unwelcome for any real length of time in the trees of the Fey. It was in the silence of the early morning and the dim light of dawn that he escaped the voices echoing in his head. Screams of loved ones cut off with vicious finality and the cries for help from long dead friends grew quiet in that weirding hour. Even the thought of it started to bring them back.  The chain shirt and leather breeches he had purchased for himself were of good fit, he noted as he shook himself from his darker thoughts, and the extra weight was warming in the chill air.  The oddly patterned links in the mail were a hallmark of its Elven construction, although Thrayn knew it was no more effective than the more simple patterning of Human mail.  Still, it comforted him to know it was Fey armor.  Certainly Rongald seems duly impressed, although that means little coming from the superstitious Human, Thrayn mused.  He stood and went to the one horse he had kept and rechecked the fittings on the pack saddle once again. Satisfied, he reached into the pocket of one of the saddlebags and fished out the two golden rings that had concluded his bartering. The golden armbands and simple silver torque he now wore were part of the same set, but the rings were made for larger hands. He rolled them in his palms within the pocket of the saddlebags as he waited for his companions to wake.  When they did, Thrayn sat back and watched them aid each other in donning their own mail shirts over their leathers. They joined the other men around the fire and laughed and shared in the food being passed about, and Thrayn let them have their time among their fellow Men. They would leave soon enough.   Not that there was much temptation to stay any longer. Having concluded business among his Erunsil kin, they had taken once again to whispering as he passed, when they payed him any mind at all. He was less welcome here than the Dorn forced to camp at the outskirts - which was of course why he was reduced to passing the night in the company of sleeping Men, for they did not shun him as the other Erunsil did.  Soon Rongald and Bornhild had finished their meal and made their way over to Thrayn. Rongald merely nodded as he gathered up his pack and swept his fur lined cloak over it, and Bornhild offered a simple "Good morrow," and did the same.  He struggled for a moment with the gorget at his helm but quickly resolved the matter.  Thrayn walked up to the two men and pressed the rings into their palms. The two Men looked as one down into their palms in surprise, and it was easy to see their awe at such a rich gift. Though they fought against Shadow, for both men it seemed possible that it was a matter of opportunity rather than any strong convictions.  "We should be gone. Let's be off before our welcome wears thin," he said flatly.  Thrayn then turned and grabbed up the horse's lead and began to lead them away from the Erunsil village.   Rongald nodded at Thrayn's comment, smiling slightly. "It is good luck to start a journey at the request of the Fey."  Bornhild slid the ring on and avoided Thrayn's eyes. "Aye, but do not let him bespell you, Norther," he muttered in Erenlander. "Don't turn your back on him, lest he cloud your mind."  Rongald showed no indication that he heard his fellow Dorn, and turned to Thrayn. "Aye, away from here. A half-week of the best food I've had in months and a bed softer than my cloak has made me soft."  Bornhild chuckled at the jest, while Thrayn merely eyed the two Men with a detached curiosity then turned to lead the pack horse toward the trail away from the village. "Come," said Thrayn, "if you wish my protection, then let us leave this place. Ver'huin is fast losing its charm."</blockquote>

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