Underfoot (Armorend)

[Whim]

The Fae's Place was a tiny bar situated near the western gate. Judging by the thatched roof and sawdust on the floor it wasn't anything fancy, but the owner put love into it all the same. The misspelled names of house specials ("Shepard's Pie" "Arocks Soup", "Ora Crawfish") were scrawled on a chalkboard. Judging by the crowds of burly men and raucous laughter most of tonight's clientele were farmers and dockworkers after Sylmag's particularly hoppy lager.

Good thing it was crowded. Ewan was in a sour mood, fuming really, but had to stay calm and keep quiet. He ducked his way through a forest of towering farmers, and beneath the tray of a blue-haired waitress "Kia's c-- watch it runt!"

The ragged boy's eyes widened when he caught sight of a crooked door near the bar. That must be the wine cellar. Looking to his left, then his right, Ewan nudged the door open and ducked into narrow, rough-hewn staircase. What drink and vintage was it again? "The best brandy" - like they knew anything about alcohol - come to think of it he could've just snatched any bottle from upstairs and lied...

But this was actually kind of exciting. His heart was pounding! And what would really happen if he was caught?

[Armorend]

The Fae's Place was particularly rowdy, this evening. That was what went through the mind of Kartuun as he sat there, slowly eating a bowl of soup, having piecemeal conversations with Sylmag in-between his serving people within the tavern. Kartuun had resolved to set out soon, and as such the keeper of the tavern had been trying to pass on some more knowledge about the world from his own experience, before the boy set out on his own.

"Always, always, always watch for pickpockets and thieves." said Sylmag, this particular point being somewhat-difficult for Kartuun to take seriously, as the older man was acting as if he were telling a 5-year-old to stay away from strangers. Sylmag noticed Kartuun's less-than-enthused expression after he had given that warning. "What? People who steal from ya aren't always the ones y'expect. I've seen my fair share of elderly men and women, who always greeted fruit-vendors with the kindest smiles and words, quickly slip fruits into pockets and robes. Even if they've got more than enough to pay for 'em."

Kartuun's unamused look had shifted as the man had gotten more serious; he didn't appreciate being spoken to like a child, but he wasn't sure how to say it to the man who had been caring for him. "So I should just... Always be on the watch for people who might steal from me?"

Before he could get an answer, this particular lull in service had ended. From elsewhere in the bar, someone had ordered up an older vintage bottle of wine. "Comin' up!" Sylmag responded, leaving Kartuun without saying anything, feeling it was implied he'd be back. He walked over to the old, beaten-up door that signified his wine cellar, opening it, but hearing a clinking sound as he nudged the door open.

Someone was in here! He crept down the steps slowly, doing his best to minimize noise, still hearing the sound. Moving down past two shelves, he found a boy crouched down, looking at some of the various bottles he possessed. "Oi! What do you think you're doin' down here, boy?"

[Whim]

Ewan gasped in fright at the booming voice. Shit! He spun around, dangerously juggling a bottle of fifty year brandy before concealing it. The ragged boy stared, wide-eyed and dumbstruck, at Sylmag as his mind raced.

"Gosh you scared me! I was, um, just looking for the bedrooms, yeah?" Ewan gave a nervous smile, trying to buy time as he edged past. The barman was enormous, and blocking the stairs, but the tavern was surely crowded enough to lose the paunchy innkeeper. Not having his wand was horrible and made Ewan feel naked. This would all be so much easier if he could turn into a bat or make a swarm of mice fetch the bottle.

"B-but I've got go to go! Got to deliver a note ya see and I won't get paid none if it's late..." It would be easier to drop the bottle and run, but he couldn't give up. Just a few more steps and it'd be over...

[Armorend]

"Uh-huh, and that's why you were crouched, lookin' through my bottles, right?" Sylmag eyed the boy, before making a grab at him, snagging the boy by the arm. "Quit fooling around and come upstairs with me, and I won't turn you in to the authorities." In spite of his serious glaring and speech, there was a calm feeling to the man's voice; he didn't seem to be treating the boy as if he were a full-fledged adult in being caught.

Sylmag kept a grasp on the boy as he grabbed the required bottle of alcohol, not wanting to forget about it in the moment, and started back towards and then up the steps, not desiring to keep one of his loyal (and admittedly somewhat-rowdy) patrons waiting any longer.

[Whim]

"I Just need the bottle. Here's everything I've got!" Ewan squirmed against Sylmag's grip. A life of hauling heavy kegs from the cellar, cleaving meat, and tossing drunks gave him strong and calloused hands. The boy whined and yelped the whole way up the stairs, fishing three copper coins from his belt. His desperate bribe went ignored; barely enough for the barman's trouble let alone the brandy. "Or I I can do any chore you ask, please?"

"Feh. Don't know who put you up to this, kid, but you ain't getting a nip. And I won't have no thieves about" Sylmag slid a rusty bronze key into the lock. The barman lead Ewan onward toward the door, though his expression began to soften. "I'll give you a hunk of cheese for them bits."

"I'm not a thief. And I don't want your charity! Look, Some rat-faced urchin stole my magic wand and is going to break it unless-"

A minute later Ewan was sitting in a corner and gnawing on wedge of cheddar, sullen and red-faced. Sylmag was back at the bar. Most of the tavern-goers paid him little mind. The former sorcerer caught glimpses of another kid in the crowd but thought better of making eye-contact. Real children either wanted to rope him into playing tag or other stupid games, or were horrible bullies.

[Armorend]

Kartuun had watched Sylmag come out of the wine cellar with a boy, the look on the former's face indicating the latter was evidently not supposed to be there. He saw Sylmag sit the boy down at another chair across the tavern, also noticing the somewhat-jaded look on the young male's face. It was hard not to take pity on another kid, and Kartuun wondered why the kid would try stealing in the first place. He finally decided to stand up and walk over, his blanket hanging over his shoulders.

He made eye contact before he had even reached the table, but the thief tried to shake off the contact. Finally, Kartuun ended up standing in front of the boy. "Hi." There was an undeniable tension, based on the look on the listener's face. "W... Why did you try to steal from Sylmag? Were you trying to get drunk, or?" The tone in his voice was more curious than accusatory, genuinely wondering the male's rationale for his actions. He didn't want to start trouble, after all.

[Whim]

Ewan gave the newcomer a shy wave. The kid was about his age. Maybe of good birth, judging by the cape, but on closer inspection it was just an old blanket that made Kartuun look more like a child playing at hero. "I wasn't stealing-" Ewan gave an indignant scowl, but the facade was pointless; he was caught red-handed and Kartuun didn't look at all convinced. "The brandy wasn't for me, okay? A kid named Dugan, and some street-rats, took my wand. Won't give it back unless I steal stuff. I'm not really a thief.

"And sorry, I'm being rude, my name's Ewan. Is he your pa or something?" he forced a weak smile, nodding toward Sylmag.

Dugan and his band of urchins were well-known in this part of town. They had numerous purse-snatchings, pranks, and shoddy, half-finished odd-jobs to their name. He was briefly employed at the Fae's Place, to clean the stables, but Sylmag threw him out for stealing. The young brigand held a long grudge.

[Armorend]

"I'm Kartuun. And nah, he's just a friend of my parents. He's been looking after me while they're gone." He shrugged. "Sylmag has told me about Dugan. I've seen and heard him but never spoken to him. But... He stole your spell book? My parents each had one, but I never saw them use the books."

It was obvious the boy was stealing and had initially tried to lie to Kartuun, but since he was Serenian, it wasn't far-fetched that he would be a magic user at such a young age. Kartuun was going along with it, at least for now, but he remained wary of any indication that this was in fact just a boy trying to use an excuse to get out of a wrongdoing or lessen his punishment, something else that Sylmag had warned him about.

"From what I've heard about Dugan, he seems like he'd be fun to scare with Finniss." He garnered a mild smile on his face at the thought of making the boy-criminal run away out of surprise.

[Whim]

A scrawny arm, dappled with freckles, reached across the table to shake. "Awful nice to meet you." Ewan puffed out his chest, looking more than a little full of himself, "And I mostly do alchemy and transfer - transfug - um, turn things into other things? Those sorts of spells are really long! Do you do magic too?

"And is Finniss your dog? Would love to see that pig-faced shiteater get bit in the a- um, butt?"  boy cracked a shy smile.

[Armorend]

Kartuun looked rather taken aback by this boy's language, but shook his hand regardless, slightly confused by the display this small-bodied male was putting on. "Uhh... No, I don't do magic. My parents kept wondering if I could... Maybe a gift will awaken at some point, like with them. But, for now, I'm normal." He smiled, shrugging it off.

"And Finniss is my blanket, not a dog. He's my protector, too." He stroked the side of the blanket that hung over one of his shoulders a couple times, while still facing Ewan. "My parents gave it to me before they left, so I always keep it close. Gets kinda lonely without them. Boring, too, around here. Well, until you showed up, that is. What's Sylmag gonna do with you? He's never caught a boy stealing from him before. Couple o' older people. He ended up turning them in as soon as he could. Guess that's good for you, huh?"

Finally, closing time rolled-around, and once everyone had cleared out, Sylmag came over, looking at Ewan. "Now listen up well. For tryin' to make off with my booze, I could turn ya in, and they'd take you just like they'd take a man. But. If yer willin' to work for me, cleaning the tables and windows for, say, a week, I won't turn ya in. Understood?" He extended out his hand to seal the agreement, wanting to show he was willing to hold up his end of the bargain.

[Whim]

Ewan looked down apologetically. The little sorcerer's bragging only seemed to baffle Kartuun, who probably didn't care much about anyone's magical exploits. But a magical blanket, one capable of frightening teenaged streetrats, was just as vexing. "How does a blanket protect you? Does it make you invisible or turn you into animals? And I don't know... he didn't say he'd do anything. Just offered me food, yeah? Figure he forgives--"

Sylmag cut him off of course. Color drained from the boy's face as the barman explained the terms of the arrangement. He could see Dugan and his dirt-smudged, greasy friends burning his grimoire and laughing. The alternative, of course, was being chained up with a bunch of ogres and orcs and scarred criminals through some cramped and lightless mineshaft. It made him sick to think of it. "I am sorry. And if I hadn't taken the meal you offered I'd be gone now. Feels a lot like a trick..."

"Knew ya'd take the free food. And I would've stopped you just the same. This is for your own good, boy." Sylmag gave a jaded smile, and set down a rag and bucket. His expression softened, "And don't you worry about helping him Kartuun."

Ewan took Sylmag's hand to seal the deal, heaving a long sigh. Soon enough he was running a soapy rag over the table he shared with Kartuun. There so many tables. And the bucket was heavy. And of course the barman was seated near the door with a book in hand, no doubt spry enough to stop any runners. "So does he usually make you do this stuff? Gosh, I don't even know what I'm going to do now..." the ragged boy murmured out of earshot, still surly.

[Armorend]

"Sometimes, if I act out of turn. Sometimes I do it just 'cause there's nothing else to do, though. He doesn't want me starting anything before I've even left the city." Kartuun chuckled a little, watching Ewan wash the table.

"And about what you said before, before Sylmag butted in. Finniss doesn't do anything like that. It, well..." Kartuun turned to the "busy" tavern keep. "Sylmag, can I show Finniss to Ewan?"

The man looked up in from the book. Washing the tables was supposed to be a punishment, something serious and performed in quiet, meditative silence. Yet Kartuun did seem to take to him; the man mused to himself that if Kartuun wasn't here, he wouldn't be so lax. That's what prompted Sylmag to say "Sure ya can. But make sure y'move some o' the tables aside! You know what happened before..." He trailed off a little.

Kartuun looked a little sheepish as he moved a couple tables aside to make space, drawing the blanket off his shoulders. He held it out in the open space and said "Wake up, Finniss." At this, Sylmag looked up, frequently impressed by the display even as a resident of Serendipity, when the part of the blanket that hung down seemed to have legs and feet grow out of it, entirely covered in plate. A torso took form above that, arms sprouting out at the side, a large, metal-coated hand holding Finniss, as the blanket seemed to have entirely faded out of existence. In its place was a very tall, armored figure, holding Kartuun's hand as the boy looked up to it while it looked down at him.

He turned to Ewan. "Whaddya think?"

[Whim]

Ewan's mouth hung open as the blanket began it's transformation. He had to srifle a giggle at first, when the security blanket sprouted limbs, but soon enough it filled out into a man of metal. "Whoa! So your parents made it for  you? Is there anything underneath?"

The boy set down the sponge and walked in circles about Finniss. Without asking he reached out to probe the construct, testing it's joints and strength.

"He'll do whatever you tell him, huh? Like tricks or table-washing?" an impish smile crossed his face. "Or if you did want to put a scare into those robbers?"

Sylmag must have overheard, judging crossed arms and a grunt of disapproval.

[Armorend]

"They bought the blanket for me when I was a baby, and enchanted it a few months ago. There's nothing underneath, though, at least not that I know of. It can't talk, it doesn't eat or drink." Kartuun watched with a mild sense of pride as Ewan inspected the armored being.

"It does whatever I say, yeah, including table-washing. Or scaring robbers." He looked to Ewan, pausing briefly for effect. "... But I don't think having it do either of those things would be a very good idea." He gave a teasing smirk to the other boy and then a grin to Sylmag.

"You better get back to washing tables, though." Kartuun's voice was quieter but serious. "Last thing you want is Sylmag gettin' angry at you for slacking off..."

Kartuun sat with Finniss as the pair watched Ewan work, before Kartuun finally decided he'd had enough watching and actually took up a rag, helping Ewan finish off the tables, until all of them were clean. Kartuun took the rags away and soaked them, returning to Ewan. "Sylmag, is this good? Is Ewan done?"

"Eh?" Sylmag looked up from his book. "Already?" He seemed surprised and just slightly disappointed. "Alright, fine. You two can go out. I'll lock up." Kartuun motioned for Ewan to follow as they went outside into the cool evening air.

[Whim]

It was mostly quiet now that the sun had set. Only a some flickering torches which lines the canal, and the stars, offered any light. Ewan followed Kartuun to the edge of the canal, clambering atop a fence to sit.

"Thanks for the help back there. Didn't mean like I was trying to get Finniss to deal with Dugan either. I know that could go bad for you." The boy's face reddened, looking suddenly sheepish. He actually didn't think of the risks at all until Kartuun spoke up. "I'll try to replace my book if I make it to Arca. Guess I'll just be a non-magical boy till then..." That was hardly a comforting thought.

Kartuun himself was a bit of a mystery. Two wizards leaving their child in care of of a rustic innkeeper seemed so strange. It crossed Ewan's mind they might be dead. "So you're Sylmag's ward I guess? He send you for school or anything? I mean if your parents were mages... I'd bet you're pretty clever."

[Armorend]

"You'll find your book. Just like I'm gonna find my parents." Kartuun gave the other boy a confident smile. He rested next to Ewan as the boy inquired about his personal life, not that there was anything bad about that.

"Yeah, Sylmag looks after me, mostly during meals. I go out the rest of the time, 'cause I can't wait to go out and start my search." There was a somewhat-blind optimism in his voice. "I used to go to school but I stopped 'cause of the same thing, I want to leave. The only reason I'm still here is because Sylmag wants to make sure I know about being out in the world, since I only ever went elsewhere once, to the inner part of Arca, when I was younger."

He went on for a moment. "Clever?" Kartuun had to pause at this, reflecting on his parents and their consistently-calm but quite-often wise way of speaking to him. "I dunno if I'm as clever as them. I think I do well in school, but... I don't think I'll ever be as good as them. My mom could memorize a ton of stuff. And my dad was great at developing spells. They were both so nice to our neighbors, too..." He looked down, trailing off, a mild frown forming on his face. Realizing the dampening of the conversation he shifted the subject.

"W-what about you? Where are your uh... Parents? Where do you live? And what kinda magic can you do?" Remembering he seemed to need the book, Kartuun corrected himself. "Er, uh. What could you do?"

[Whim]

"My family is mostly in Ravensway down south, but I was going to Arca to swap spells with someone. I'm way older than I look. Well, I used to be older until the accident..." Ewan blushed. It was more of a miscalculation. "Before Dugan took my wand I did transfiguration and amin- animancy! I turned people into dogs, grass into wheat, stuff like that."

"But how long have your parents been-" he bit his tongue. It seemed to be a touchy subject for Kartuun. It was hard to imagine such a sweet-natured child wandering alone. The boy screwed up his face in search of more delicate phrasing. "How do you know they won't be back? It's just the road's awful dangerous for a lone girl is all. Even with a magic blanket."

[Armorend]

"Ohhh. Alright." Kartuun nodded. "My parents talked about that but they weren't really good at turning things into other things. My dad told me about a woman, who could turn herself into a big cat like a tiger or lion to get around." His voice seemed somewhat brighter when he spoke about their exploits.

Sitting there, the somber boy listened to the other continue, hearing him stutter and try to rephrase his question. Then Ewan asked his question. The same one Kartuun had dealt with several times before, annoyingly enough. Not a big deal in and of itself, but Kartuun was already feeling a bit off because of discussing his situation once-again. Yet, while he was preparing to answer, Ewan mentioned a concern Kartuun had already answered before, adding to the mounting tension.

... And then Ewan slipped up. Kartuun's head snapped up at the other boy.

"I'm not a GIRL, Ewan." He hopped down from the fence. "And I'm not helpless, either!" His eyes were watering, not that it was easy to see underneath the lengthy hair that had partially provoked the issue. "My mom told me I would know if anything bad happened to them...!" He looked away from Ewan, and sank. One hand clutched at the blanket for comfort as he quietly sobbed. Leaving soon to do something almost-insane at his age and standing, being asked once-again to confront the reality of the situation, so much worry and stress had built up in his mind, not that he would know how to articulate it.

[Whim]

Ewan sat in silence as the boy started sniffling. He'd never had to deal with crying kids before, save younger siblings and cousins years and years ago. Coddling Kartuun, after calling him a girl of all things, probably wasn't going to improve his mood any. The young sorcerer slipped from his perch and placed a hand on Kartuun's shoulder. "Where were they going anyways? Might have even seen them for all I know if they're mages. And lots of stuff can hold up travel, ya know, like sickness or storms... it will work out.

"And sorry. If I bet if I wore a shirt I'd get called a girl, too. We could both use a hair cut..." he cracked a tiny smile, running a hand through his tousled mop.

[Armorend]

Kartuun seemed somewhat-calmer already, relaxing. Though he didn't look at Ewan, he still spoke in response to Ewan's question, having the slightest hope the wizard might have encountered his parents. "Well," he sniffled, trying to stop his nose from running while he spoke. "I don't know where they are, or where they went. They didn't tell me. They just said they were leaving to protect our family and others who were being threatened..."

He turned more towards Ewan now. "I like my hair like this." His response was very matter-of-fact. "And..." He sniffled once-more. "Sorry for getting mad. I just keep getting told I shouldn't go looking for my parents an' stuff. I trust that they'll let me know if anything bad happens. But until it does, they're out there, whether they want me to find them or not."

He stood up slowly, face still red from crying. "So... Where are you gonna sleep tonight?"