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Ydalon
When the boy finally crashed back out of the woods, he appeared much relieved. Certainly his not quite even grin was blazing, and he seemed but moments from abandoning his walk to a skip.
Moments in which he reached the fireplace.
"We'll have an interesting night," he announced.
"And I suppose you're wondering a thing or two."
The boy rubbed his hands, held them closer to the flames. They lent an orange cast to the dirt under his untrimmed nails.
"Like how come that youngster knows his way around, and what's this quarrel we're dragged into.
"And I figure I might as well indulge you."
Ydalon looked about the circle, gauging the effects of his words on the encamped wanderers.
"I am Ydalon, and my father's boroughmaster of Talryr. I won't never own a bit of it, but this is my land.
"The man is hard. He works hard. And he expects everyone does. And he's a lousy father. Distant. I hardly know him, but I've seen him, and learned. Mostly, what not to do.
"Where do you go when you're in your da's town with naught to do, at my age and then some less? I made myself friends, one in particular which I'm not ready to discuss. That one and I, we were a pair. Together when we could, and half the time we couldn't."
A wry touch crept upon his features.
"I'm sure you know what it's like. Despite having a wife, my father couldn't recall. It wasn't what he'd in mind and he let us know it. Broke some rule or what. The two of us, we wasn't going to stay and suffer that. About three days later and it was camping out of doors for us. And we travelled. I doubt he ever bothered to look for us, but why risk being dragged back? Travelled all over, learned the hidy holes and how to stay alive, kind of. There's your answer to the first."
He coughed, the last traces of amusement only barely lingering.
"I'm afraid I'm no talespinner, and the other half's uglier than the start.
"One day we risked a trip back to Talryr. Lost my friend along the way, but like I said. And if I thought he'd a temper before, that was like a trickle to the rapids. I suppose losing his wife and daughter, and potting up some years of frustration besides, is halfway of a pardon though.
"The wife's the more recent loss, dragged off by a group of thugs. I've doubts of meeting that one again, but I'll give you I enjoy crossing the ones what did it."
Shrugging, the boy concluded his monologue.
"It's not all bloodlust and vengeance though. That's for the blind, and they die soon enough. I try and see what's coming my way and plan for it. First, it's back to Talryr. Not to find my father, mind, it's preparation and supply work only on my account. There's more campaigning after that. Thought you might like to know."
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