#int. prospero.nornwatch

[alrikhart]

@prcspero location: Nornwatch Keep notes: ya know

Iskarans were used to the cold; they grew up and farmed the frigid earth that had borne them. North of the Spine, the chill that washed over the Wastes was unlike anything Alrik had felt before. A tangible acrid taste clung to the tarmac of his tongue, the bitterness of the rotted corpses buried beneath the ice and snow far below the walls of Nornwatch Keep. A bastion and a relic, old walls that were so ancient the names of the people who'd built them were forgotten now.

Everyone knew the stories of the Legion of the Dead, romantic heroes that stood before the face of true evil and didn't waiver. Alrik had bought into it once, but he no longer did if he ever believed that all the world's problems could be boiled down to some primordial evil. People were the ones who wanted; people were malicious, cruel, and unforgiving.

On the parapets, Alrik looked across the massive peaks they'd passed through just a few days prior. Weeks of traipsing through a hidden, cavernous path had led them here: supposed sanctuary. If the Aetherians were thorough, which given the swiftness of their attack, Alrik would assume they were, then it was only a matter of time before the magi came for the High King and those who'd fled alongside him.

"I never thanked you." Alrik said, it was strange that he already knew the sound of Prospero's boots approaching. But after he said it he looked towards the man now. "For what you did, for saving me and Alessia. I owe you more than I can ever hope to repay." Alrik owed the druid something much more precious to him, his sister's life.

[alrikhart]

Regret would eat away at him in the days to come. Alessia is alive. This was something that he'd repeat under his breath, a murmured mumbled into the cold air as he made this statement between morsels. Into the night air before the witch allowed his eyes to close, and in the morning when the haze of slumber gave way to remind Alrik that his sister was not with him. Alessia is alive. The witch was stubborn and relentless, trademarks carried by people who were too impudent to just lay down and die.

"Depends on the audience. I wonder what King Hrimthur would say of his mines being used now by darkspawn. If he'd have done anything differently." For a moment he remembered climbing trees with Alessia in a time that no longer felt relevant. "You can't grow anything in this dirt, least of all an apple tree." The cold was Alrik's natural disposition, the warmth a front he saved for the sort of performance that wouldn't matter now. "Tell me something else." That night still played across his mind's eye with simple clarity, where he'd gone wrong, and what he should have done differently, but there was something he needed to ask. "Alessia and I were together when the darkspawn attacked and we went looking for you, where were you?"

Prospero's night had been a blurry one, but he could also remember everything oh so vividly. He'd had the thought a few nights prior that he probably should have put that drink down lest something bad happen. Unfortunately, for him and everyone else involved, that something bad had actually happened. The deal he had made, the small bit of hope that he'd wished to have, it all came crumbling down in a matter of moments. He had wished nothing like this would happen and then it had. How was he supposed to look at himself in the mirror or even live with himself at all knowing what he had done?

Now...now Alessia was captured and they had no idea of her fate. There was also Luna, too. Both people he had come to know and care for a great deal and they had suffered because of his mistake. Yet he wouldn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. The Dark One had their clutches so deep within his soul that it could barely be considered his own anymore. Human. Druid. Darkfriend. What did it matter what he was if he couldn't be himself? What did it matter what he was if it hurt the people he cared most about?

He had stared at that fire for so long that it felt like the ashes had melded into his skin. A permanent burn for a mistake that could very well be just as permanent. What would have happened if he hadn't made that deal? What would have happened to Alrik and Alessia? Would they still be here? Would they have been okay without his interference? Prospero didn't know what to think, but every what if was being mulled over in his head several times over. Yet, no matter how many times it was, it didn't fix anything. Luna was still gone. Alessia alongside her. And Alrik was suffering because of it.

That was why the witch was telling him this story, wasn't it? Deflection. Prospero knew it all too well. When you thought you were going to lose someone close to you, you would do anything to think otherwise. He had thought the same when his mother had went to the Arches. He had thought she would come back. He had hoped and wished and every other thing in between. But she was still gone. She was still... The same couldn't happen to Luna and Alessia.

His head turned to Alrik as the story finished, a hand lifting to pat the other on the shoulder. "I'd recommend you keep the stories to me next time. I can probably tell better ones." He paused for a moment. "My father used to tell me how to properly grow an apple tree, but it's still a pretty good story," he stated in as much of a joking tone as he could muster. Nothing seemed to be funny now unfortunately.

[alrikhart]

Prospero's candor mirrored his own, his faith in him was refreshing, but Alrik's range of knowledge was minimal. Amid the throng was a bonefied Iskaran smith, Alrik's experience with the black produced meager and far more brittle metals, but for the druid, he could try. His elbow nudged the other lightly, affirmation with the rounded curve of a smile that lifted slightly pink cheeks but didn't quite meet his eyes. "Could be: skeevy witches will do just about anything to get ahead." The smile in Alrik's voice came with its own implication, "I should turn in, sleep is hard enough to get without wandering around half the night. Goodnight, Prospero." He moved to walk away before he stopped, "That's a really nice hat, looks good on you." Alrik left the druid

"Well, I doubt it'll come back in worse condition than I gave it to you in. And if you end up liking it, you can keep it. Just, you know, make me another one." But then he would want to request that that one be better, too. One could only improve with their craft, not get worse. That was how it was with magic and other abilities. Prospero had certainly gotten better with his own abilities. The same would go for Alrik. "I've been told that. I'm much more of a 'on a whim' kind of guy. I can spin a story like the best of them." He paused. "Does that make me sound like a liar? That wasn't what I mean, I swear." But that was exactly the kind of thing a liar would say. He could also put his foot in his mouth sometimes, too. That was something he needed to work on. Whatever, he'd work on that later. "I've never met the Queen myself, but I do believe the power, youth and longevity thing. Do you really think it's from making deals with a devil though? Perhaps she drinks the blood of virgins to keep her skin looking as smooth as it does."

[alrikhart]

"You're assuming it'll come back in better condition than I found it, who's to say I'll return it at all: maybe I'll take a liking to it." Alrik grinned as he searched for something in Prospero's words, but it sounded boring and vaguely similar to Iskaldrik which was depressing in its own right. "You're a terrible orator." The canvas that Prospero was painting was remarkably dry, maybe something could be said about the monotony of familiarity. The druid had paused, ruminating on the source of Prospero's hesitation, but only for a moment. The Harts' savior hadn't taken a bounty on foreign soil, in a career that rewarded violence because his roots were flourishing in the soil of his home. Iskaran ground was solid like bedrock, frostbitten and cold, Prospero would find a greater challenge here. "I heard that the Queen breathes fire like a dragon, that she can steal a man's soul just by looking into his eyes. Making deals with devils, trading her soul for power, youth, and longevity. Is that true?"

"No commission? Oh, come on. You can't just give me stuff for free. Friends and family discount maybe, but never free." Prospero sure as hell never did anything for free. Well, except for when he had saved Alrik and Alessia. He didn't have anything he would ask of them in return nor would he probably ever even come up with anything on a whim. He had helped them simply because he wanted to. There was also the fact that he had made a deal with a devil, but semantics. Nobody would ever need to know about that if the druid had anything to say about it. His luck was looking up for the first time ever so he was going to take advantage of that. Until it ran out, of course. Because it always would. Nobody was lucky forever. "Fate then," he repeated with a hint of a smirk before he continued. "There's a lot to Lysara. I think you would have to pick a region for me to tell you about. I guess the most important is the Tower though. If we're talking about me though, which I love to do, then I'm from Northreach. Nice little farming town. I used to help my parents. My brother used to fuck off somewhere else." He stopped speaking abruptly as the smile faded from his face. Then he shook it off. "Anyway, what did you want to know specifically? I can tell you a lot about Lysara."

[alrikhart]

"I could try, no commission needed." Blacksmiths worked iron and iron into steel, Iskaran smiths were renowned for their ability, but Alrik's growth in the skill was stunted when his life went up in flames. Alrik's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, all this assumed that they got out of here at all. He'd said it a few times already, now it felt like beating a dead horse to talk about how dire their situation was. His disbelief was in that there was much waiting for them in Lysara. "Fate then." As Prospero had implied, he kept his gaze tilted towards the frigid landscape below, unaccustomed to the thread of security that had wound itself around them. Alrik didn't trust easily, but Prospero had already saved him once, which earned him the benefit of the doubt and the witch's respect. "What's it like, Lysara?"

"A blacksmith?" Well, that was certainly a good chunk of information to learn about. Prospero had no need to really make weapons of his own, but he certainly had them. A blade and a gun could go a long way in helping with his job. Plus, he never truly ran out of bullets because he could always just use a little bit of handy magic to help out. Everything really did work out in his favor sometimes. Never always though. "Maybe I'll commission you to make my gear more up to par when we get out of here." Alrik's question was fairly easy to answer. When this job had landed in Prospero's lap, he had been at a loss as to why it had. Surely someone else would have been able to do the job better. Money always had people singing a different tune though and this was absolutely no different. "I highly doubt it has, but a guy has to make money any way he can, right? Performing and smithing for you. Bounty hunting for me."

[alrikhart]

"I get by." Alrik said, "Sometimes people pay us to perform at parties, I take odd jobs here and there. My father was a blacksmith, so, I learned some tricks of the trade growing up." He thought for a second. "Paid." Right, past tense all things considered. "So did Lysara run out of bounties for you to fill?" Alrik could only assume that whatever contract Prospero had sought on Iskaran soil would've paid a significant sum indeed, a shame he wouldn't see that coin now. He doubted there was any loveless between Prospero and the nation that wasn't his home, truthfully, Alrik felt the same - but he couldn't help but wonder what this would mean for the future, and for those still trapped within. Him and his sister weren't heroes, they weren't knights waiting in the wings - they did the things that others couldn't for the greater good. Whatever the name, whatever deed necessary. That was where they differed from the man in front of him, the siblings weren't for hire.

Saving street performers from overpowered witches. It sounded absolutely preposterous even saying that out loud. Really, Prospero always found himself struggling to find the right words to say to anyone. With Alrik and Alessia though? He felt like the two of them needed to trust someone. At least, that was what he got from every conversation he ever had with Alessia. Alrik was mostly telling him that he was thankful when they spoke. So he guessed saving street performers from certain doom didn't sound as bad when he thought about it like that. The druid was hopeful that they would make it to their next destination in one piece. Maybe it would have been better for the three of them to split off and find a different way without all of the extra bodies. As a matter of fact, Prospero would have preferred that. It felt like they were sitting ducks at this Keep.

"No, that's my night job," he joked and continued. "During the day, I just do bounty hunting. I had to figure out a way to spend my time after..." Well, how did he even describe everything that had happened to him? How did he explain that everyone he ever cared for had been lost to him? Maybe that was something they could talk about later when they made it to Lysara. "I'm sure street performing isn't your day job either, is it?"

[alrikhart]

There was no love loss between Alrik and the fall of Iskaldrik; he wouldn't lose sleep over the people who had lost their lives in the conflict. Somehow, the witch doubted it was as simple as a people's hunger for territory. He could spend his time pondering the great mystery of what was behind him or choose to focus instead on the road ahead and surviving the journey. So many had made it through the pass; here at the Keep, they had a moment to breathe and reflect on their situation. The thought had crossed his mind that a smaller group would attract less attention from whatever creatures lurked out here. Himself. Alessia, and maybe Prospero.

"You're telling me that saving street performers from overpowered witches isn't your day job?" Alrik's lips crooked into a short smile as he looked up towards the druid. It seemed like everyone had their identity closely guarded these days. Whatever. If he had to dig all night, that's what he would do. They'd been on the road for weeks already, and Alrik barely knew the man standing next to him - and yet, the witch trusted him completely. A hard feat for the hidden one who didn't trust anyone beyond his sister.

The wheel weaves as the wheel wills. Prospero was simply destined to be where he was supposed to be whenever he was supposed to be there. He wished that had been the case when it came to his family, but he thought that maybe that was what was destined for him, too. He was bound to lose those closest to him and he would have to suffer because of it. If he had known what would happen when he went through those Arches, would he have made a different choice? His father had told him not to ever do it if they called to him. Yet Prospero had welcomed it with open arms because he simply thought that it would be what his mother would have wanted. She had went into those Arches and never came back. He'd had hope that he would not be the same. He'd had hope that he would come back and never have to worry about losing someone again. And then he had. Now here he stood several hundred years later still trying to form some sort of family to fill that empty void in his chest that had been there ever since.

Prospero had felt empty for so long that it felt like all he could do was find Alrik and Alessia. That was what he wanted. He wanted family. He wanted something to not feel so damn lonely all the time. Perhaps it was selfish, but loneliness did that to a person. What he did after he got this self-proclaimed family was where he would learn to be selfless. That would always be his goal now. "Yeah, these witchers are...interesting people. They look like they know how to have a great time," he stated sarcastically before continuing. "I'm not Iskaran, correct. I came here on a job. You can imagine my surprise when the kingdom got taken not too long after I got here. Horrible timing." He paused for a moment and then spoke again. "Or maybe it was just the right timing. Everything has its purpose."

[alrikhart]

Still, Prospero had his gratitude, but Alrik knew better than to press the subject. He'd find other ways to show it; at the very least, the witch wasn't inclined to forget it anytime soon. All that assumed that they would live through the next few days; people who hadn't gotten sick from the journey were retching over whatever piss-mead the legionnaires had taken to passing around. These people were supposed to be heroes; it didn't seem like they were treated that way. Nornwatch looked like a shitty place to die by any standard, then again, Alrik had seen his fair share of death, and there were no good ways to bite it. In the end, most people shit themselves and meet their maker covered in their own filth.

Habitually, Alrik looked over his shoulder; even at the edge of the world, the cunts calling themselves witchers were still dressed in that armor. As if the troupe needed any reason to remember, their jailors persisted. He smirked with a simple tilt of his head as Alrik's eyes found Prospero again, "Not everyone shares the same sentiment." Not everyone would've gone out of their way or risked their lives for a few people they'd never met. "Your accent," Alrik pointed out, "You're not Iskaran; how'd you end up caught up in all this anyway?" Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time; Alrik would suppose he got lucky. The Norns had decided that he and Alessia would not die that day; Prospero was tangled in that weave now.

Prospero felt like he couldn't really be the guide he would have liked to be when it came to Iskaldrik. Whatever happened within this place was beyond his knowledge. A place where supernatural creatures were outlawed and sent to mines if they were found out? Of course he'd never even remotely thought about wandering there until a job brought him there. He'd long completed said job, but now he had another to worry about. And this job was far more important than any other. Protecting Alrik and Alessia was all he could ever want now. If something happened to them, he was sure to place the blame entirely upon himself. For now, they were somewhat safe though. Nornwatch Tower had to be safe. Right?

It was awfully cold here though. Prospero felt like he wasn't used to that. Or maybe it was because he couldn't feel the cold when he was nursing a whole pint of beer or a glass of wine somewhere. Sometimes a little drink felt personal to him. Not that he was itching for one at the moment though. Plus, the cold could easily be rectified for him with a little bit of magic. He hadn't ended up in that primal circle for no reason. Dealing with the cold was just one hell of a perk that came with it. As he fiddled with a stick to set it on fire, he wandered up to Alrik.

"I've heard many thank you's in my life, but you are not one of the people that needs to thank me." Bounty hunting certainly warranted people being very thankful for his services. Saving someone that needed saving was something Prospero did because he wanted to, not because he needed to. Plus, he'd wished for this, didn't he? Maybe he should have been the thankful one. That wasn't something he was ready to say out loud yet though. Being thankful for a devil was probably not going to help him in the long run. "You owe me nothing. All I ask is that you live." The corner of his mouth lifted up into a smirk. "You can also call me pretty, too."