Chapter 25: Family Matters

Reading the growing tension in the room, Nienna turned to the barkeep. “No offense to you or this establishment, but I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if we take our business to another tavern.”

The barkeep nodded in agreement, but Nienna’s suggestion only seemed to anger the norn who had called Dee out, and his tight grip on the edge of the table caused one of the planks to crack. Nienna did her best to refrain from responding. It would only infuriate the man further, and she wanted to prevent causing more of a scene than they already had. She studied the angry norn man, who appeared to be around the same age Dee’s father was, as evidenced by the heavy frost in his dark-blonde beard and hair. Nienna wondered who he was in relation to Dee’s family and what role he may have played in the situation that unfolded years ago.

“Before we go, how about we cover your next round of ale?” Nienna said, attempting another tactic to defuse the situation. After years living under the same roof as Dee, she quickly learned how much they loved to drink. “No hard feelings and all.”

The leader of the norn trio narrowed his eyes and pointed a trembling finger at Dee. “No amount of drink can erase the traitorous deeds of that one and her family. A good norn died the day her father decided to try to convert his hunting party. All because he refused to worship his new, false god.”

“Well, there goes that plan,” Alena muttered.

The thorns on Turborg’s cheeks flexed as he frowned. “Who exactly are these people?”

“Brandt Hartvigsen,” Dee replied. “He was a friend of my father’s. The other two are part of his hunting party: Ylva Trugg and Egil Ericson. They were there the day…” her voice trailed off, leaving the details up in the air. “Haven’t seen each other since they ran me out of town.”

Ylva Trugg suddenly stood up from her chair to join Brandt, looking down her crooked nose at Dee. Her auburn hair was twisted up into a bun and had about as much frost in it as Brandt’s, indicating they were around the same age. She spat on the floor off to the side and then glanced down at their raven-haired companion, Egil, who had remained sitting quietly in his chair. “You hear that? She called him friend.”

He chortled and scratched his long, dark beard before taking a long pull from his tankard.

“Hey,” Nienna warned as she stepped up to their table. The three norn immediately went for their weapons, but Nienna paused and put her hands up in a show of acquiescence before any steel saw the light of day. “She had nothing to do with what happened. Children are not their parents, and they shouldn’t be held accountable for their mistakes.

“Apples don’t fall far from their trees, you know,” Ylva said. “Who’s to say this one won’t follow in her father’s footsteps and betray you all?”

Gripping the pommel of her axe, Nienna opened her mouth to counter with something colorful, but the sudden tight grip on her shoulder made her pause. She glanced back over her shoulder to find Dee standing right behind her. Her friend’s amber eyes looked past her, sweeping back and forth throughout the room. Nienna followed her gaze out over the establishment. All eyes were on them now. The faded band over Dee’s eyes wrinkled as she furrowed her brow. Nienna could tell she wanted to say something, but her long pause sat heavy in the air for some time.

“Let’s go,” she finally said. “We shouldn’t have come here.”

A pang of guilt hit Nienna like an avalanche of boulders. She knew Dee didn’t want to come to this place, and she knew the very real possibility of encountering the ghosts of her friend’s past, but she insisted they come to Hoelbrak anyway. To see her friend in a defeated state before her honor could be defended broke her heart. Nienna knew family matters were different. They cut deeper than any enemy could, and she could only imagine the pain her friend was in. No matter how personal her own feelings were on this particular subject or how much she wanted to strike these norn down, Nienna had to respect her friend’s wishes. Loosening her grip on her axe pommel, she begrudgingly turned toward her people and motioned for them all to leave.

Brandt sneered and let out a mocking laugh. “A coward, just like her father who ran into the arms of that false god because he couldn’t handle the loss of his wife. Pathetic.”

Dee’s form grew rigid. “Watch your words,” she warned.

“All right, you norn want a fight? Then let’s fight. I’m starving, and the sooner we whup your butts, the sooner I can eat!” With a mighty roar, Clarkus drew the greatsword he carried from its sheath on his back. He curled his paws around the pommel and raised the blade, ready to fight. Having endured the shame of losing his piece of the blade in the fight at the Priory camp, he couldn’t stand to look at a shield. It was no longer a means of protection; it was a reminder of his failure. Still, he couldn’t go on weaponless, so he chose to take up a great blade he found in the Priory’s armory instead.

“Clarkus,” Alena called sharply from her perch on the barstool.

Her warning was drowned out by a loud thud at the bar, and all attention turned toward the barkeep. His hammer now rest atop the bar for all to see, as a warning. Light from the firepit in the center of the room reflected in its recently polished dual-head. It was a blunt instrument, but in the hands of the burly norn, it was also a deadly weapon. He crossed his arms over his broad chest as he regarded the quarreling patrons with a piercing scowl.

“There will be no fighting inside my tavern. Take it outside, or I’ll escort you all out myself,” the barkeep ordered as he patted the weapon.

With a disapproving growl, Clarkus begrudgingly sheathed the greatsword. “Fine.”

“Fair ‘nough. We can settle this outside just as easy.” Brandt reached under the table and drew out a large, sheathed sword. He hoisted the weapon over his shoulder and led the other two toward the tavern door, making sure to throw a battle-hungry glare at Dee and the rest of the group as they passed.

“Are we really doing this?” Tuborg asked. “Can’t we just have a civilized conversation and clear this up?”

Alena hopped down off the stool she had perched herself up on and tapped her staff against Tuborg’s arm for him to make room for her in the group. “Norn are not known for settling arguments through polite discourse. Their style is more physical, in that they either drink themselves into a stupor until one person or party remains, or they simply beat on each other until again only one person or party remains standing. They declined Nienna’s offer of ale, so unfortunately yes, we’re really doing this.”

The sylvari grimaced. “I was afraid of that.”                                                                     

Nienna followed the others outside into the courtyard, but the bright daylight unexpectedly overwhelmed her senses. The world grew untethered and wobbly, like gelatin. She put a hand to her eyes to shield them from the light, but the whole world still felt as if it was shifting around her. She closed her eyes and hoped it would pass soon. Sitting down while waiting would be been preferable, but she did not want to appear weak in the presence of the norn trio, who were already hell-bent on proving their claim by beating them all into the ground. She waited until the spinning world slowed to a halt while the others emptied out into the courtyard. She stayed in the back of the group with her frame turned away, so they wouldn’t see her falter.  Feeling a gentle tapping on her arm, she looked down to find Alena staring back up at her with a worried look on her pale face.

“You’re looking a little off-kilter,” she whispered. “What are your symptoms?”

“Like the world is a spinning toy that was given to an overactive child,” Nienna replied with a wry smile. She coughed a little to clear the phlegm building in her throat and then turned aside to spit it out, quickly covering it with snow before anyone could see the dark stain.

Alena made a thoughtful noise as she pulled out a small notebook and pencil from her coat. “Interesting,” she said while making her notes.

“All right, you have us outside now. Can we hurry this up? I’m starving.” Clarkus eyed the norn trio as he shuffled outside. “Should be quick anyway. They don’t look like much of a challenge.”

Sidling up next to the charr, Dee slapped the back of her hand on Clarkus’ furred arm. “Don’t be fooled. My people are vigorous fighters, motivated by growing their legend to be remembered forever. Taking out the last of a traitorous family is sure to have them remembered for years to come.”

Dee’s dark tone and a sudden realization hit Tuborg, and his eyes went wide. “This isn’t some courtyard quarrel, is it? They’re going to try to kill us.”

Dee scoffed and uttered in a familiar tone that put some of Nienna’s concerns at ease, “They can try.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Nienna tried to assure the worried sylvari. The world had finally steadied itself, so she lowered her hand and let her eyes adjust to the light. “Maybe we can try to talk them down.”

After finishing her notes, Alena pocketed her notebook, slid her pack off her back, and began rooting around inside of it. She pulled out a wrapped package of dried deer meat she pilfered from the Priory’s kitchen before they left and presented one large piece to Clarkus who had been grumbling under his breath about food the entire time.

“Why didn’t you eat your snack on the journey here?” she asked him.

“I did, but I’m still hungry.” Clarkus plucked the snack from her fingers and devoured it in one bite.

Alena stuck her thumb at the norn trio. “They’re not going to wait for you to have a proper meal, so you’re going to have to wait until this whole situation works itself out one way or another.”