On the brown and red pebbled courtyard that curled to the entrance of the manor.
Five men stood in the morning sun, but only four of them could be seen wearing their armour and weapons openly. All of them were wielding sheathed swords on their hips—all but one.
You could see the wear and tear that time had on all things—the tiny knicks, dents, and scratches that no amount of buffing and polishing would remove. This was the armour of the guards that saw the hardships of life in the Drollian territory.
The lord of the manor, draped in his red cloak, was hidden from the world and the light, with only his head in sight. Not showing the black armour or weapon he was wielding for the hunt ahead.
As the doors of the manor opened, they closed once more. A medium-sized man holding what looked to be a box was walking towards them.
Alvin waved at the approaching figure and pointed at the small pile of equipment on the ground, the sword nestled on top.
He waited for the figure to get close enough before talking.
Alvin: I tried to dry your armour out as best as I could. It's still damp on the padding for the chest, but the rest of it should be fine.
Yurn: Thanks, Al... (The man holding the box smiled.)
A commanding voice came from the right, breaking into the conversation.
Vayreban: Get yourself ready and meet us by the broken wall.
Yurn paused, then nodded to the command and placed the box down next to Alvin. He had no wish to speak to him.
Alvin: I will catch up. I need to have a word with him about his wife.
Vayreban: I have already had my fill of lovers' quarrels this morning. Make it quick!
He turned, and the other three guards standing to the side followed in tow after their lord. The rustling of pebbles turned into the sounds of shuffling feet through the wet grass and soft dirt.
The two men began to talk to each other while Yurn prepared himself for the day ahead, struggling to find his right gauntlet in the mixed-up pile on the floor.
Alvin: He must have meant the butler and the maid. Oh yeah, and also, your wife told me to say "Hi." (cheeky tone)
Yurn: So does yours...
Both of them smiled.
Alvin: My wife would eat you alive (chuckling smile); that's why I love her. So, why is the Lord Eye fucking you all of a sudden? Don't tell me, are you and him a thing? (The smile turned into a grin.)
Rustling sounds of pebbles filled the air from the feet of Alvin as he walked circles around Yurn, trying to warm himself from the cold breeze.
Yurn: Tell me, do you regret becoming a guard?
Alvin went quiet, his left eyebrow raised. Now standing still, he placed one hand on his ruffled beard and stroked down; the other hand sat upon the pommel of his sword.
Alvin: I'll bite. In truth, some days I do and some I don't; it doesn't beat the life we once had, but the wife and sons need a father who isn't dying in a ditch for little to no pay. God knows where. Still, I am somewhat in love with the monster subjugations of the village and nearby towns, which beats quest hunting. That said, I have a different kind of beast at home that needs taming. I don't miss the days spent sleeping on the ground (rubbing his back), but we were a good party back then. I do miss the old gang. Why do you ask? Are you planning on becoming an adventurer again? Also, please don't tell her I said those things about her. (playful fear in his eyes)
Yurn looked at him and stared. He breathed in and breathed out, like a wyvern preparing for a battle—not one of claws and teeth, but ones of words he had within himself that were burning into his soul. He would let out the embers of truth that would burn Alvin's ears.
Yurn told Alvin what happened the night before and how the Lord had treated the young man, remembering how the Lord hit the boy with an armoured fist, kicked him while he was down, and said the words no son should ever hear from his father.
(Alvin waited until Yurn was finished donning his armour and sword, absorbing what he had just heard.)
Alvin: So, he did that to his own son... (His hand wrapped around the grip of his sword.) My sons have done some stupid stuff, but... to hit him, no, punch and kick him like he was a fully grown man... to do those things and say those words without fully knowing what happened—the actions of a fool, not of a father.
The sound of leather being twisted faded.
Yurn picked up the wooden box, the jingles of glass hitting each other, almost making a melody, with the rustling of pebbles that mixed into the shuffles of feet pushing through wet grass.
Alvin: It looks like a stone snail has been through here... How is the boy now? (trying to break the cold air between them.)
Yurn: I don't know. I would say he is in his shack, keeping his head down. I promised him I would bring him something for the pain he must be in. I am sorry for running off this morning. I had to ask Eral for something. I tried last night, but he was out of it.
He put the box under his left arm and rummaged around in his trousers, the cold feeling of glass rubbing against his palm.
He removed his hand from his leather pocket.
His gripped fist opened like a morning flower with a red bud inside, emanating a soft glow, not from the liquid that jostled around gripping the glass.
The eyes of the man next to Yurn went wide.
Alvin: Is that what I think it is? Yurn, you know how much that thing is worth!
Yurn: Yup, several barrels of the finest mead from the Dozy'Mare. I was lucky enough that Eral didn't bend me over for more.
Alvin: Yurn… That is a red potion, not a green or a blue potion. Its RED! The only one getting bent over the barrel is Eral; when he gets plastered, that is. You are planning on giving it to the boy? You could easily sell it in Droll to a merchant and walk away from the guard's life for a few years. You know, I might know a guy. (joking)
-He was cut off by the man holding the box.
Yurn: No. (firm) I gave him my word. He needs it more than me, but I don't want the Lord to find out I gave it to him. When we finish up in the forest, I will head to the boy's shack.
Alvin: I would have sold it, but when you make a promise, you keep it. Remember that gemstone in Veral? (putting his hand to his head) We are near the lad's shack. Why not now?
Yurn: Not with him here. He will surely try to stop me. Also, I don't want a confrontation to happen. After what he did last night, it wouldn't be eyes or words flung his way if he tried to stop me.
Alvin: I see. Consider it done! I will say you need the little boy's room for a while when we get back. The truth and lie wrapped into one (laughing)
Yurn: You always make it sound weird; no wonder you were locked up for offending a priest. You can tell them whatever you want, just not that. It was you, the gem, or me. Luckily, I chose the gem; I didn't want the wrath of your wife.
Both men picked up their pace, and now they were catching up with the four in front, one alone and three together.
Alvin: I will never forget it—the jail (he paused for a moment) and the beating she gave me—it rivalled that of the Luminarum inquisitors. (rubbing his shoulder) Those prayer boys can land a good punch or two when you insult their faith.
(Laughter erupted from both men.)
He placed the red vial back into his pocket, and they picked up their pace.
The three guards turned to the two men approaching. The Lord stood with his back to all of them, standing alone.
Yurn: I will keep my word, Tristyn (muttering to himself).
He looked at the shack to his right and back at the men in front of him.
A gruff bellow came from the man to Yurn's left. Alvin snatched the box from Yurn and held it out towards the other men.
Alvin: I will have that from you (grabbing the box). All right, boys, it's not mead or wine. But it will surely get you up. Grab a bottle and drink! (commanding.)
-A voice shot from the left side of the wall.
Vayreban: I don't need one. Drink it and follow me; we have a cara to kill.
The five men, all known as Yurn, Alvin, Carl, Robert, and Uill, each took a bottle, and one by one they removed the cork, the only thing keeping the foul-smelling amber fluid trapped inside.
Alvin: Please forgive me, my dear liver; I will treat you to mead later.
Even those words couldn't save him from the taste and lingering horrors his stomach would endure.
One after another, they drank the amber slurry. All of them held back the feeling of retching on the muddy ground. Coughs and spitting followed instead.
Uill: Don't worry. With this smell, the cara won't come near us after this; we can stink it to death. Or cover Alvin with it and use him as a weapon.
A small chuckle came from the five men, even Alvin, who was the butt of the joke.
Carl: It might ignore him and come after you.
One of them made a bellowing cough.
Robert: Enough of that. Let's get this over with. Or we will have more dangerous things to worry about. (eyes, hinting towards the man behind them)
The bottles returned from whence they came, sitting in the box on top of the broken wall, one potion untouched by the lord.
The six men faded into the shadows of the forest.