For maybe the fifth time in half an hour, Niko wondered how Ronald could have come from such a grizzled, vinegar-for-piss, acid-for-blood man.

Then Ronald fired yet another retort in an ongoing back and forth with his father, “You’re right, it’s really none of your business where I buy my supplies, considering you still think that Otoola oil makes your hair grow.”

“Is that what I’m smelling?” Niko clucked, and Skye snickered.

Gram frowned at her snicker, but Skye quickly said, “Niko smells it.”

“Oh… Is it bad?” The man’s frown lifted fractionally, “I think it’s fairly scentless, myself.”

“Because that’s the issue.” Ronald stared at the man flatly.

“I guess if anything was going to give you hair growth, it’d be that living ball of fur. But… how's the oil made?” Mithel’s expression was quizzical, “They don’t actually have bodily fluids of any variety.”

“Dry out their skin, mix it up with a little bit of chalk and water, dry it out again,” Gram shrugged, “Supposedly. I only buy the stuff.”

Niko shook his head at that, “It’s mostly scentless, but I’d say it smells a little on the sour side, but not much.”

Skye cleared her throat, “Slightly sour, but mostly non-present.”

The man nodded, “Well, that’s fine. I don’t usually go out of the city all that much, and Otoola aren’t that hard to come by. Hells, I’m one of the few people in the market for anything other than their fur.”

“They do have very nice fur,” Skye nodded, “My parents used to make blankets out of that and silk-weed.”

Dachna’s eyebrows shot up, “That sounds really nice. Wonder why nobody else does that?”

“Because silk-weed is a pain in the arse to grow in most places,” Mithel scowled like it was personal. Given that she was an alchemist, it probably was, Niko reflected.

“Anyways, that store is nice and they always have the stuff I need. Do you know how hard it is to find good quality cooking ingredients?” Ronald fussed, “I've gone through so many stores that end up never having everything I'm looking for, but this one always does.”

Niko felt like this was the most heated he’d seen Ronald outside of combat. The man must really like his food. Niko also wasn’t the only one looking at the display with amusement, although the other Greenhorns all seemed like this was par for the course.

Gram only scoffed, “You could just do what normal adventurers do and live off the land.”

“In areas where the ‘land’ is untraveled, sure,” Ronald shook his head, “But we’re not out in the depths of the Elderwood yet, so there’s still a need to provision for a lack of materials. Besides, I’d probably still do this, because cooking is fun and a decent meal is good for you.”

“Alright, alright,” the older man grimaced, “Sheesh, you sound like your mother when you go on a tear about that. I get it.”

Ronald straightened a little, but didn’t respond to what Niko figured might be a jab, “How is she, anyways?”

“Better,” Gram smiled, “She’s finally getting over being sick. Woman nearly gave me a heart attack this morning when she cooked breakfast instead of resting in bed.” He shook his head, “Anyway, I’m grabbing some grub, you lot wanna come with? I know a good place.”

Ronald looked over at the team, seemingly for their opinion, when Skye spoke up, “Unfortunately, we’re due back to the Guildmaster’s residence for lunch and then training.”

Gram froze for just a moment, his foot stopping in midair before he caught himself, “Orson’s training you lot?” The grizzled guard turned concerned eyes upon his son, “Ron, did something happen?”

The Greenhorns waited on Ronald to say something, but he firmed his lips into a thin line and only stared meaningfully at his father. Gram’s expression darkened and he nodded shortly, but then his countenance lifted as though whatever that was was never there. “Well, it’s good to be getting training early. Back when I was your age, I was barely scraping by as an adventurer. ‘Course, that was in the Ironshredder Mountains, that place is a damn deathtrap for newbies.”

“You started at Ironshredder?” Asked Skye while very clearly gawking at the man.

“It was terrible,” Gram confirmed, “I didn’t have no family or money, so I couldn’t move to one of the better places, and it made me get good, but I would never recommend that. Hells, I shouldn’t have been there til I was tier two at the minimum.”

“How’d you not die in a tier two area when you were just starting out?” Niko squawked curiously, and while Gram listened to Skye translate, he stared at Niko.

“Uhh, mostly just volunteering for teams to be an over glorified bag boy, honestly.” The man shook his head, perhaps at the memories, or perhaps that the Phorus was interested, too. “I tell you what, you get damn good at reading people when they could leave you for dead at the drop of a hat.”

“Mostly, they’re fine,” Ronald piped in, “But Dad’s had a few close calls.”

Gram nodded vigorously, “Most adventurer teams you meet are on the up and up, but it only takes one mistake, misjudge a team once, and you end up dead in a ditch stripped of gear.”

“Pleasant picture,” Mithel murmured to herself.

“It’s an ugly truth, but hopefully you never have to deal with it.” The man shrugged, “Well, anycase, you all take care now. Don’t let Ron slack off on training.”

Ronald mock glared at him before giving him a sideways hug, “You too, Dad. I’ll come visit tomorrow morning if nothing comes up.”

“You better,” Gram snickered at him before saying to the others, “Nice meetin’ you all!”

The Greenhorns and Niko bid him farewell and started heading back through town. Niko thought that Gram was rather nice, considering everything that Ronald had seemed to imply about him. Then again, he had also seemed to suggest that beating up that guy from before would have been perfectly reasonable, so maybe he was a little on the harder side of things.

“He seems nice,” Dachna commented with what seemed to be the Greenhorns general consensus, “Definitely seems like he could be a bit of a hardass about some things, but not what I pictured when you were talking about your Dad.”

Ronald shrugged, “I mean, yeah, he’s a great Dad and I love him, but the man can get so damned fixated on the dumbest things sometimes.”

“Like what?” Mithel asked, and saw Ronald pause in thought.

“Well, for a long time he wouldn’t use small coppers for anything, even just rounding up and paying in large copper coins just to get around having to carry them.” That bit reminded Niko of how some people on Earth refused to use pennies at all.

“That doesn’t seem too bad, it’s a little fiddly to have them.” Mithel frowned, before Ronald nodded.

“Yeah, that’s true, but he started actively collecting them and melting them down into bricks of some messy copper alloy. He says it’s to get rid of ‘trashy currencies that aren’t even valuable enough to use.’” Ronald shook his head.

Dachna blinked quickly, “Isn’t that completely illegal?”

“Yeah.” Ronald nodded, “Destroying legal tender and all that. He doesn’t sell it, though, just gives it to some learning blacksmiths to mess with.”

The Greenhorns found the whole situation deeply amusing, especially with how Ronald was irked by his father’s antics. Much of the rest of their walk was spent talking about awkward things that Ronald and his father had gotten up to in their day to day lives while he was a child. Niko found himself deeply engrossed in the stories, partly because he wanted to know more about his teammate, but he knew a great deal more of his fascination came from how much they reminded him of his own life on Earth.

Or, rather, that he realized that Ronald’s experience somehow seemed the opposite to what Niko had experienced.

He had loved his human family once upon a time… But, as he considered Ronald’s telling of a time when he’d gotten miraculously stuck in the rafters of their home as a toddler, and his mother, whom had busily toed the line of near hysterics at his antics, Niko tried to remember things from his own childhood. There were some nice things that he could remember, sure, but he also realized he could remember a lot of loneliness. He remembered putting together dinners on his own during the many days when his parents weren’t there as a child. He could remember learning how to take care of his kid sister, who had only him to rely on. How it had hurt so much to realize that he couldn’t rely on someone else to take the burden off of his shoulders, and even more when he felt so damn good when they had time to be a family.

Was that a good childhood? Things weren’t all bad, but rarely anything was all bad. He remembered a birthday where his parents had thrown a great party for him and his sister on the same day, since they didn’t have the time to do both. His human parents had always been too busy with their work to spare much for them, but they’d set aside time as well as they could. Yet… he couldn’t shake the feeling that they hadn’t cared nearly as much as Ronald’s family cared for him.

‘It doesn’t really matter, though, does it?’ Niko shook himself out of it, ‘Regardless of what it had been like, I had to grow up faster than a kid should have. If it wasn’t for the fact that I had access to their money after their disappearance, Elizabeth and I would have grown up on the streets. That’s better luck than some.’

The group’s talk had drawn away from Ronald’s past at some point during his own introspection, but Niko couldn’t really muster the energy to keep up with them at this point. There was a lot of chatter about local things, and he tried to play along with the overall feel of what was happening, but judging by the way Skye started handling any errant commentary directed at Niko, she must have realized that his attention wasn’t fully in it.

She dropped back beside him as the Guildmaster’s residence came into view once more, “You okay?” She asked softly and then continued, “Do you need some rest or… anything?”

Niko felt a small but genuine smile grace his countenance as he answered, “I’ll be fine. Just a little tired, maybe homesick, too.”

Skye processed that for a few moments before putting a hand on his side, “I know the feeling. But, we’ll be back out in the forest before you know it!”

In spite of being not quite on the mark, Skye’s comment did actually bring a bit of joy back to him. He pushed his morose mood down and trilled softly at Skye with a nod. She seemed to take that for all the good cheer he could muster at the moment as they pulled through the gates of the Guildmaster’s residence.

—----------------------

“So, we’ve yet to find a single person willing to speak about what happened out there?” A deep baritone voice sounded from a rotund man in gray, black, and white finery. The elaborate outfit was anything but humble, made from a very fine and soft weave of plant-based monster fibers that had been treated to be more durable. It was utterly useless for defense, but it was the prerogative of the wealthy to determine the attire that was suitable in their court.

For Baron Enner, the notion of spending excessive amounts of coin on pandering to appearances was far from his idea of fun, but he did so enjoy the feel of the luxurious fabric against his skin. These days, he found he was also rather taken with furs.

“None, Baron,” a contrite expression was plastered on a wiry woman’s face, “It would seem that Guildmaster Maul has gone to great efforts to erase any source of information.”

“And none of the rest of the guild’s employees have more details?” The Baron asked as he contemplated the situation with growing annoyance and a tightness of his bones. He detested having to work in the shadows like this, but if his peers were to hear of this blunder, he’d be lucky to keep his standing in the Kingdom. A Barony, after all, was a hotly contested political position, and his might be very imminently contested, if Nobleman Karsk’s report was to be believed. However, considering that it was through assisting that man that all of this had begun to fall apart, he wasn’t sure he did trust him.

The woman shifted under the Baron’s question, “None, Baron. All of the other employees either know nothing or are currently instructed to release no information further about the situation.”

Inwardly the Baron sneered at that, but he repressed the expression with a grimace of disdain, “Have you applied pressure on those with families?”

“...Not as of yet, Baron.” She dipped her head down at her admittance, “With Guildmaster Maul’s interventions, we believed it would be unwise to–”

“I don’t need your excuses right now,” the Baron cut her off with a twinge of rage touching his voice, “What I need is someone who knows something, now. Do I make myself clear, Tabitha?”

“Crystal, Baron.” She bowed lower, and braced for a potential strike from the Baron. When none came, she lifted herself most of the way to straight, carefully keeping her eyesight angled towards his feet. The Baron noted the motions with a slight amount of satisfaction, knowing that Tabitha, of all people, would not test the limits of his patience.

“Very well. I expect more information on that front. Now–” Baron Enner paused as someone knocked on the door. He cast a dismissive gesture to the woman, who caught the barest of gestures from the edge of her vision, who in turn, carefully backed up a few steps before turning and walking to the door.

The Baron let her communicate with whatever servant or spy she’d put on retainer. To be frank, he had no desire to dirty his hands by working with the criminal underbelly of the Kingdom at large, let alone in Greenleaf. Furthermore, the rogue elements in Greenleaf were very few in number, and bizarrely tight knit as a group, which only made it all the more infuriating that they wouldn’t move for anything less than a noble’s ransom when they learned that The Glasscutter, Oum, was defending the so-called Greenhorns. Apparently he’d more sway than the Baron! It was preposterous to him, that anyone would have any more authority in Greenleaf than he!

Still, with a mixture of money, threats, and generous promises, any wheel, even the stubborn, rusted, and soon-to-be-dog-food types fell in line.

“Baron,” Tabitha stopped at the proper distance away from his–altogether unnecessary– throne, “A new report has come down.”

“Out with it, then,” he said as he tried to keep his expectations low.

“It would seem that the Greenhorns are no longer under house arrest in the Guildmaster’s residence. They’ve been allowed to roam out in the morning before returning to Guildmaster Maul’s home.” She began.

Baron Enner didn’t bother to keep the sleazy grin off of his face, “Excellent. It seems Orson wasn’t willing to force me to apply my authority to force him to release them from custody. Then, at once, prepare to send a missive bidding them to come to see me. Include some proper incentives, on the higher side if you would. I refuse to believe some adventurer’s wouldn’t accept my good will.”

Tabitha inclined her head slightly at that, “It will be done, Baron. Additionally, reports from many eyewitnesses corroborate that the Greenhorns have found and seemingly tamed an aberrant Phorus.”

The Baron blinked at that, before drawing in a sharp breath. He spoke low and slowly, “Repeat that once more for me.”

Without flinching, Tabitha did just that, “Many eyewitnesses corroborate that the Greenhorns have found and seemingly tamed an aberrant Phor–”

Instead of stiffening, Tabitha merely went limp as an essence strike in the vague and clumsy shape of an open palm hit her across the face.

“Of all of the things! A Venris cursed Phorus!? How!? There haven’t been any Phorus in the Evergreen in… at least decades!” The man had stopped at striking his attendant only once, distantly noting that she would still have much to do. So very much, now that this had turned up. “Karsk! You blackhearted fiend! You knew about this, didn’t you!?” Raged the man while Tabitha slowly lifted herself from the floor, she then swiftly and almost imperceptibly pulsed essence through her cheek as she covered the unsightly and already swelling redness from view with a cloth.

“Baron, would you like the Phorus killed on their next outing in town?” Tabitha asked with the same non-tone she’d had before, without a hint of a quiver.

The Baron rounded on her again, almost ready to strike her, before he managed to still himself. He took a deep breath, then two, steadying himself in the time it took to sit himself back on his throne. “Don’t be ridiculous. Half of the Kingdom would be clamoring for my head at the hint of my involvement in any such act. In fact…” he paused, “Make certain that no one touches that bird. Perhaps… yes, perhaps this isn’t going to be a total loss after all.” He sank into contemplation then, wondering at the possibilities of everything, “Yes… yes, do remember to invite the Greenhorns to my estate. Use my name, or any other measure you deem fit if you have to, just keep Orson out of it.” He then distractedly put a hand to his chin, muttering under his breath, “If I could convince that bird to follow me… no, no… Maybe get them to trade him to me? Hmm… I’m sure I heard one of them was local, at least.”

As he went through his own thoughts, he didn’t notice Tabitha bowing low to him, retreating several steps, and then allowing a wide, malevolent grin to spread across her face as she turned to face the door.

“Oh, and Tabitha,” Baron Enner said before she left.

She turned, face entirely neutral once more and still holding the cloth to her cheek, “Yes, Baron?”

“Do remember to call for some entertainment for them. It wouldn’t do for a host of my station to present them with mere baubles on their arrival.” The man grinned widely.

“Of course, Baron,” Tabitha bowed one last time before leaving, this time her face remained a perfectly crafted mask of casual apathy.