Heart of Oak

Out of Love

The Month of Harvest was drawing to a close. With Oakengrove's promise in his possession, Roderick, along with the rest of the Warband, traveled to a town a hundred miles east of Anslo and eighty miles south of Gelwood. Known as Onor, it was primarily a mining and refinery town. The coal trade brought the Helsmouth family out of the farming life and into a more profitable line of work. Roderick spent a few years as a child worker in the mines, helping with simple tasks. He hated that aspect of his life.

Onor sprawled out across the rolling hills. Dozens of smoke plumes pumped thick sooty ash into the sky, blowing the powerful odor of chemicals and burnt material across the countryside. Simple wooden walls surrounded the town, supported by watch towers, provided basic protection against outside attacks. A hundred miles away from the capital and its surrounding cities meant that the Vikan army was often too far away to deal with local threats. Onor was just short of a thousand residents and sported an Adventurer's Guild outpost, but still relied on a volunteer militia to keep a round-the-clock watch.

Thick forests filled with abundant wildlife covered the hills that the town was built on. The same forests also served to be prime hunting grounds for thieves and highwaymen. During the nights, wolves howled at the moon and the lone wanderers who'd gotten too drunk to return home sometimes disappeared entirely.

A wooden carriage carried the whole warband across the countryside to Onor. Roderick arranged the trip shortly after Oakengrove's visit. Despite wanting to go at it solo, as this was a family matter, Sedel pushed back. Roderick's mind stopped wandering for a moment and he picked up on the conversation occurring before him.

"...downside of a pike, though, is that it's so bloody long," Sedel said.

Roshka folded his arms across his chest, saying, "It's leagues better than a gnollish whip. That thing is ready to rip itself apart."

Finnegan produced the whip. Even from Roderick's angle, it was very clear that it wasn't just fraying, but tearing itself apart. "I like stabby things more." The tasaki then pulled out a small dagger. It was one of Roshka's backup knives.

"You should learn some magic, Finny. That way, you can still do something you like, even without your favorite weapon." Sedel proposed, pulling out a comedically titled book, 'Casting for Dummies.'

Dmahdi cackled loudly, "Reading? Bah! Why read when you can just stab harder?"

Sedel held out her hand, ready to challenge Dmahdi, but her wrist went limp as she processed what was said. "I... That's not... Dmahdi..." she groaned.

Dmahdi shrugged, "What? You read from a spell book. I just swing my diamond sword."

Roshka tilted his head in confusion. He eyed Dmahdi and then looked at her halberd. "Last I checked, that's neither a sword nor made of diamond."

"I can dream, Harold." Dmahdi scoffed.

Roshka slowly turned his head to look at Sedel for any kind of support, but even she was at a loss for words.

Roderick smiled and stretched his limbs. "Good to see all of you are still in high spirits."

"I just got called Harold," Roshka argued, gesturing to himself. "Do I look like a Harold?"

"Could always give you some purple chalk," Roderick smirked. He missed the banter. The self-enforced isolation after his death trapped him with his own debasing thoughts. He had spent most of the boat ride home demoralized, disconnected, and absent. For once, he felt the warmth in his heart come back.

Roshka pouted and crossed his arms. "Bah! Purple chalk doesn't exist."

Then Finnegan let out a wild fox laugh. All at once, everyone fell silent and stared at him. His paw slowly reached into a bag and pulled out a vial of purple dye and some white chalk. "Want to make it exist?"