The rest of the road was busy as the party started to come into contact with other travellers on their way to the city. Unlike the people on the way to Cirros who were mostly farmers, adventurers, and a few nobles, those on the road to Buryn seemed to be primarily merchants pulling wagons of raw goods and their guards. Buryn was where the majority of manufacturing took place within Caedun. It was east of the capital and between the two cities were the estates of the nobility. Sevald had been born in the capital and so had visited Buryn a handful of times.

The party seemed refreshed from their night at the Sevier Inn, though Stone was clearly hungover. Hrig was slouching to hide her height and attempting to conceal herself with one of Kyren’s cloaks, though due to its size the cover it provided was almost comically limited.

The city came into view. It was surrounded by a wall of blue-gray stone over which flew flags of dark green. Passing through the city gates there were rows upon rows of buildings crammed together tightly. People were equally pressed and walked around with their heads down, avoiding eye contact with one another. We pushed our way through the crowd and found a small pocket free of activity.

“I think this is where I’ll take my leave,” said Dorsia.

“Are you sure? I don’t know about everyone else, but I’d be happy to have you along if you’d like,” said Kyren.

“Aye, it’s been good to see you again. I'd hate to see it end,” said Stone.

“I like you, it’s as simple as that for me,” agreed Hrig.

“I appreciate it, but I’m no adventurer. A thief, a brawler, a gambler, those are the distinctions I’m most comfortable with.”

“I’m going with you,” said Jade.

“I figured as much. You still owe me after all, and an enforcer would certainly help me speed things up while I get settled here.” Dorsia started pulling out rings, small coin purses, and a few gold buttons and handed them to Stone. “For old times sake. Don’t be a stranger.”

Stone gave her a hug and for a moment her usually wry smile was a genuine one. We all said our goodbyes and they faded into the crowd. I shared one final, intense glance with Jade and then our party was back to its original four members, excepting my replacement of Sevald of course.

Kyren looked over to Stone, held out her hand and coughed.

“Really? But they were gifts! Surely you wouldn’t deprive me of all I’ll have to remember her by.”

“Oh you can keep what she gave you, but let’s not pretend you weren’t practicing the skills you taught her on the way in yourself. She learned from you after all.” Stone obliged with only moderate grumbling, providing every third item he pulled from discreet pockets to her in their little ritual.

“Care to join me while I make this donation in your honor. I may need help putting out a few feelers to see what we can dig up about these ‘Sons of Aurum’.”

“Aye, I can help you with that.” He turned his attention to us. “Clara is going to meet us at the Craven Raven. Do you know it?”

“Know it? I’ve practically lived there. We’ll meet you,” said Hrig.

…

Hrig led the way as we weaved our way through the busy streets of Buryn. The strange smells of the manufacturing district lingered as we crossed into the slums. Tall stacks of buildings that appeared to be almost leaning from their weight cast the streets in shadow despite the sun’s height in the sky. Eventually those buildings gave way and in the distance I could make out a towering circular structure that my meal’s memories told me was the coliseum. Hrig was glancing at it too, a somber expression barely visible under the hood of Kyren’s cloak.

Eventually we reached the Craven Raven which was signified by a sign depicting a raven hiding behind a mug of ale. Hrig pushed her way in and made a beeline for a booth in the corner. I followed her closely. The Tavern was decorated in muted shades of brown and staff was cleaning floors and repairing furniture. Clearly they’d had a busy night.

Hrig sat down and pulled off her hood, pulling her blonde braids out of it and resting her head on the wall behind her.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“No, but it’s okay. Been awhile since I’ve been back.”

“Did you miss it at all?”

She smiled and pointed at the corner of the table nearest me. It was rounded where every other corner was sharp. “That’s from when I cracked a man’s head who didn’t like hearing no.” She pointed at the far wall which was a slightly lighter shade than the wall around it. “That’s where I was thrown for taking liberties with an orcish woman’s husband.” She gestured toward my chair. “Is it a little uneven?”

“Yeah, the back left leg is short.”

“I’m impressed it’s together at all. I smashed it over the bartender's back once.” Her face became pensive. “My memories of this place are like that too. They are painful, but time has smoothed them over, covered them up, and sometimes even turned them into something useful. I do miss it, but I also know it isn’t home anymore.”

I nodded. “Distance makes memories easier to understand, but being in the place they were made can be overwhelming.”

“Overwhelming is a good word for it.”

A staff member came over with a mug of ale and a cup of wine, setting them down in front of us. “That’s from Cole. He says welcome back.”

Hrig nodded and raised her cup in the direction of the bartender who nodded in her direction. She then took a slow steady sip which I mimicked. We sat in silence for some time after that. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one, just thoughtful. Getting to know people had a kind of intoxicating, warm feeling to it. Having to learn about people piecemeal through their words and actions as well as how other people act and speak with them was an engaging process. I had access to the memories of four people, but those were taken. The knowledge I had of my companions was earned and that gave it greater value.

The door to the Craven Raven opened, Stone and Kyren walked in, looked around and then approached the table.

“Clara been here yet?” asked Stone.

“Not yet,” said Hrig.

“Did you find anything at the temple?” I asked.

“Nothing concrete. The elders shut down when I asked anything about the name Aurum or the prayers that use draconic. The only thing I was able to determine is that those rituals and prayers are among the oldest of the church and they’re meant to be used in rituals honoring the major gods as a whole rather than as individuals,” said Kyren.

“Could Aurum be a god?”

Kyren looked troubled. “He shouldn’t be. I mean, there are lesser gods and even gods that are no longer worshipped, but the idea of there being another of the highest of gods that is unknown? It would be a very difficult thing to hide.”

“Donyin said he was a son of Aurum. Is that possible? A god having a mortal child?”

“Jeiri is said to have sired several dwarven heroes. I'm named after one,” chimed Stone.

“There are certainly legends of it happening, but all of those are ancient.”

“So we have some information, but nothing concrete and nothing truly reliable?” asked Hrig.

“Apparently,” said Kyren.

“Then we should just take some jobs and move on. Talen is all the way in Cirros, possibly dead and we don’t know where any more of these children of Aurum are. No reason to get bogged down in it.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“Seems to me the information will likely come to us anyway, or at least to Sevald,” said Stone.

I sighed heavily. “You're probably right.”

Kyren patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll get you another ale.” She went over to the bar.

“One for you and four for her I’m guessing,” said Stone.

We sat drinking and conversing for a while and as the wine flowed Hrig started telling the stories of the life she’d had in Buryn, hunting rats to eat in the slums, raising a brother and sister, and earning a living in the arena.

“I wasn’t aware you had siblings, are they off adventuring too?”

Hrig’s expression turned dour. “They passed away several years ago. The rot took them. If they were alive I’d have hoped they’d have been married away and safe, but they likely would’ve made their way to the arena like I had.”

The table went quiet and I took my gauntlet and held it out to her. She looked surprised for a moment, but gave it a firm squeeze and me a small smile.

The tavern door opened and a woman wearing a dark blue dress with a distinct red cameo broach walked in. She was tan with dark hair flowing behind her. She looked over the tavern, which had gotten busier as night began to fall, and her eyes settled on our table.

“Stone! Kyren! Hrig!” She waved as she approached. “How is my favorite group of adventurers?” Her gaze turned to me. “And this must be Sevald, a pleasure.” She held out a white gloved hand and I took it.

“Likewise,” I said.

Clara sat down and slid one of Kyren’s ale mugs over to herself which drew an eyebrow raise, but no comment. She then took a hearty sip.

“I have a new job for you. A noble requested you all specifically in fact.”

“Details?” asked Stone.

“A noble’s family tomb is infested. Skeletons, ghosts, zombies, all the usual suspects.”

“A necromancer?” asked Kyren. She had gone from her usual small smile and relaxed expression to leaning forward with an intense look I had only seen her wear in the most dire circumstances.

“Possibly, but it hasn’t been confirmed.” Clara looked toward the door. “The noble himself actually wanted to be here to tell you the details.”

As if on cue a man entered the tavern. He was tall and lean with long brown hair and pale skin. He was wearing a simple black satin doublet over a crisp white shirt. It was clearly an attempt to dress down, but the quality of the clothes and his bearing signaled him as a noble right away.

Hrig’s wine cup shattered in her grip. I turned my attention to her and saw a look of disbelief. The nobleman walked over to the table, his eyes focused on Hrig.

“Hello, Duchess.”

She stood up, pushing away from the table. “He’s the one that asked for us?” she asked Clara.

“Ah, yes. This is the Duke of Wyther. He’s the one who wants to hire you.”

“I understand that you don’t want to see me, but is this really the proper reaction to seeing your husband again after all these years?”

“Husband!?” I felt the words slide out of my faceplate before I could stop them.

Hrig turned red. “You still didn’t divorce me? Just move on!”

“I can’t, you know I can’t.”

“We aren’t taking the job. Let’s go, everyone.” Hrig moved to leave.

“Wait, wait, wait. I really do need help."

“I don’t care.”

“You have a stake in this too!”

“How?”

“Where do you think I had your brother and sister buried?”

Hrig stopped, her mouth hung open in surprise. She sat back down. “Talk.”

Clara stole another of Kyren's ales and drank deeply. Her forehead was covered with beads of sweat. I couldn’t blame her, if I’d been capable of it I likely would’ve been in a similar state.

“It started a few months ago. The gravekeeper disappeared while digging a plot for one of the servant staff. I sent some other servants to investigate and they told me they saw a skeleton walking along the edge of the graveyard. I tried contacting the guard, but apparently they’re short staffed as most of them are being drafted by the crown. I need help Hrig, and you’re the only person I could think of to ask for it.”

“The pay?” asked Stone.

“One thousand gold pieces and any treasures you find in the tomb are yours to keep.”

Stone turned a pleading look to Hrig. “I’m with you if you refuse, you know I am, but that’s a fantastic offer.”

“He’s good at those,” hissed Hrig.

“I’m afraid I have to side with Stone here. It’s my duty as a priestess of Sidi to end infestations of undead, particularly if a necromancer is involved.”

Hrig sighed. “We’ll do it, but I have one more condition.”

“Go on,” said Duke Wyther.

“A divorce.”

The duke looked physically pained for a moment, but managed to spit out, “deal.”