The travels of Yan Overton

Arboraillia

There was a solemn air upon the Ivy after the loss of the crewman yet languidly the old ship proceeded upon its course.

Even the Gewinnan  who often lacked the ability to express empathy appeared quietly reflective as they sat apart from each other much to Plegans frustration.

"What happened on that island to warrant such melancholy amongst the group?" Inquired the sprite confused.

"Doowun tells me that they were imprisoned within a Labyrinth" said Demir

"Yes, and they were obviously emancipated from their incarceration so why the doleful demeanour?"

"They were a somewhat rattled by their ordeal I believe"the sagacious goblin replied.

"Well, they had better pick themselves up soon before we reach the port" said Plegan before disappearing in a flash below decks.

Meanwhile Yan lay upon his bunk pensively gazing at the swaying lantern that hung from the rafters overhead when there came a firm knock at his cabin door.

"Come in" he said sitting up.

The door slowly opened and in walked Athel puffing on a long clay pipe.

Taking a seat he looked at Yan on his bunk and smiled kindly.

"How are you feeling?" He asked benevolently.

"I'm fine" Yan replied, dubious of his geniality and to the intent of the sorcerer's enquiry.

Athel chuckled "Of course you are" he said. "But I like to make sure that everyone in the company are well. We have had a few trying times of late, have we not?, what with the loss of our beloved Casusas and that episode in the labyrinth"

"We live to tell the tale,"Said Yan.

"Indeed, we do" agreed Athel.

There followed a brief pause whilst the sorcerer shuffled in his chair.

"Recent events are not my only reason for coming to see you Yan" he said pausing to toke upon his pipe.

"You see, to me you have become an important member of the Gewinnan, possibly one of the most important and I feel that we haven't really spent much time together, you know, to get to know each informally" he said pulling out a slim silver flask from his inside pocket before pouring himself and Yan a large dram of whiskey.

"We are not so different you and I my friend. Scholars of the old ways" he said in a soft course tone whilst raising his glass in a toast to his companion.

"You clearly possess an innate gift unlike myself but nonetheless we are kin, anomalies amidst the mediocrity of humanity and I feel it's about time we sat down and conversed over a drink.

Yan sipped the scotch before wrenching momentarily.

"What is it you are trying to say Athel?" He enquired.

"Im simply saying that after all we have experienced in our brief association that you need not be so suspicious of me anymore. I know we have not often seen eye to eye, but I've always had yourself and the company's interest at heart. Never forget that".

"Of course, you are right" replied Yan "I'm sorry".

"No apologies here my friend"replied the sorcerer topping up Yan's glass. "Our collective purpose is merely to establish a better life for ourselves. We are outcasts, exiles from the social order and and such we must stick together because there are are elements out there who consider us a menace".