An Owl By Night - Heligan Aurubaen

[CrimsonMist]

Marsember, 1326
The mist swirled around the causeways and jetties as dusk slowly fell over the dank port of Marsember. It was low tide, and as ever a gaggle of small figures stood hunched over the mud left exposed by the receding waters.

Every now and then, a whoop would go up and one of the rummaging urchins would triumphantly hold aloft a belt buckle or a copper coin or a rusted dagger, before jealously stashing their meagre 'treasure' away from the greedy fingers of their companions.

Apart from the human boys, a halfling lad of about eight or nine poked despondently in the mire, his rags more dirty even than those of the others. Next to him a half-elven girl little more than a toddler, played at making mud cakes in the filth.

"Tom-tom! Got!" cried the tiny girl, a glint of gold visible in the sludge in front of her.

The halfling saw the gleam immediately and hissed "Hush, owlet! Them lads'll have it off us 'gen. Hide it quick!"

They pulled at the buried gold and he gasped in awe. There was a fine elven longsword wedged downwards in the muck - it took all their strength to subtly free it from the mud without being spotted, and they swiftly wrapped it in a cloth and snuck away before the other children noticed them.

***

Mother Kalin ran her ancient fingers along the blade. "Still sharp," croaked the venerable gnome. "And magical too. Did you find this one, sweetling?" The old fence tousled the girl's hair. "Or, perhaps, did it find you, as magic swords are won't to do in the old tales? Either way, there is no way I could sell this item. See this here?"

Her callused finger jabbed at an inscribed motif on the sword's hilt.

"That, children, is the sigil of the Aurubaens, an old noble family of Marsember. They're all gone now, and the Thunderswords have taken over their family home."

The urchins stepped back. Even they knew not to tangle with the nobles of Marsember - they were rumoured to have even darker connections.

The gnome went on, "Nobody quite knows what happened to the Aurubaens, but it certainly wasn't marsh fever." She laughed a gurgling chuckle. "Anyway, if that goes in my shop and one of Lord Thundersword's lackeys sees it - I'm out of business. In perpetuity, no doubt." She let out another chuckle, and mimed slitting her own throat with a finger.

She hastily wrapped the blade in its cloth and pushed it back towards the urchins.

"If it were me, I'd put it back where you found it, but if you don't, hide it well and show nobody! Now run along, it's getting late!"

***

As the urchins ran back to the lean-to shack they called home, the girl's head was full of stories.
[
Maybe it found me, like Mother Kalin said? Maybe I'm special?!

She decided to stash the sword somewhere secret where the Thunderswords would never find it. Tomboy would help, of course!

[CrimsonMist]

Marsember, 20 Ches 1341

"Hear anything, kid?" whispered Tombob Ninefingers as he squinted into the gloom.

"Nothing at all, and I'm older than you," came a terse female reply from the opposite alley.

"Heh, yet I remember you toddling around with that sword when you were just a babe, you'll always be like a little sister to me."

"Hush, I hear voices!"

A key clicked in the lock of a door nine or ten paces down the cobbled street. A middle aged human in mismatched chain and leather armour walked out, a shortsword and an iron key jangling from his belt.

He strolled languorously toward them, before turning into Tombob's alley. It was easy for the halfling to knock him out with a single blow to his balding pate. With no real aptitude for stealth, the half-elven girl he had been whispering to ran across the street to meet him.

"Stay here, and listen for the others getting back," said Tombob, unhooking the key from the fallen guard's breeches and leaving him bound and gagged in the alley. "Whistle if you hear anything."

The half elf furrowed her delicate brow. "I can't whistle."

"Seriously?" Tombob bent over and plucked a thick blade of grass from between the cobbles. "So, if you hold this between your thumbs like so, and blow like this, you'll shriek just like a hunting night-owl." He looked pensive and grinned broadly. "With your hearing and night-eyes, you'd make pretty decent owl!"

The half elf smiled, despite herself.

"Hurry into that building and find the goods, Tom, I've a shift at the Oak tomorrow and I can't be up till dawn!"

"Right you are, my Owl!"

"Oh, stop that!"