Saga once more found themselves thinking and ruminating on all the crazy things that had happeened to them. They hadn’t had the time to fully decompress, to fully understand the impications of all the things that now orbited them. Their meeting with the Goddess had done little to help. The fact that their death was just an unfortunate event that could have happened to just about anyone made them feel strangely small. This time said introspection was partially fueled by drinking which wasn’t always conducive to being productive or insightful. But it helped ease some of the tension as they loosened up. The mood of the feast was one of joyous celebration, with people sharing old stories and recounting deeds. There was the occasional somber moment where some toasted to a fallen comrade. Every so often, Saga was approached by some person they never met before, who wished to hear of the ambush, or of their old world. It appeared that the city held a few wayward souls like themselves, although they seemed to all be plucked from a different world then Saga had been. None of them had been human either, mostly elves and dwarves.

Whenever they had a little bit of respite they tried to just hang around Sasha who helped tremendously in dealing with all the emotions that bubbled just under the surface. Right now however, they watched as Sasha talked animatedly with Olaf and Ingrid. They were pretty sure the three of them were bonding over axes. It felt very much like a thing that would arrest Sasha's attention. She was rather fond of her two weapons and had been far more hesitant parting with them than Sag hada been parting with their spears and sword. They supposed that once they got more used to them and been in more fights, they would start feeling the same. It was a wierd thought, putting so much of yourself into something created to end lives.

“Such a ponderous expression.” Ordans voice cut to trough their thoughts as the man sat down next them. The man was as insufferably happy and easy going as ever, with that grin of his. Saga straightened their back a little before sweeping what was left of their drinking, turning to him with a less serious experssion.

“Just thinking.” They said before nodding towards the kegs. "I will remedy that. Care to join me?" They spoke as they got up, flagon in hand. They had yet to be come entirely unsteady on their feet and Ordan who was a bigger drinker then any they met so far, simply grinned and followed.

“Thinking during a feast? Clearly we havn’t gotten you enough mead!” Ordan exclaimed over the din of the party as Saga just laughed. He wasn't half right. Although someone had told them not to drink their problems away, they did not consider thinking the problem. Thus they could not drink the problem away if they drank until the the thinking stopped.

“I don’t know. Last time I got drunk. I got into a barfight.” They said to a chuckle from Ordan who clearly relished the memory of seing Jaspar get clocked by the angry, brawling berserker. Of all the people at the scene Ordan had been the least upset with the whole ordeal.

“Yes. You are right. It did cause a barfight." Ordan said with that same, confident smile as he mimicked a punch. "Seeing you get up from that punch was glorious. At first I thought I would have to step in, but you just bowled him with a single angry punch. Glorious"

"He did have it coming. Dude just flipped at me bumping into him. Got all huffy about me being weak and should watch myself." I met guys like him at every bar I've gone to."

"Jasper is obliviously that kind of person. The kind who covets power in every form. And who needs to express it any chance they got. It was a well deserved wakeup call ." Ordan said with a sneer that Saga never seen on that otherwise cheerful face.

"Don't tell Olaf. He got a bit cross with me" Saga scoffed, remembering the way Olaf had chewed them out.

"Ah, but you were sober when you went and cracked Jaspers nose the second time, remember?" Ordan countered.

“So your saying that if I had been drunk it’d gone better”

The two shared a moment of contemplation before both seemingly came to the same conclusion. “Nah, I’d have done much worse.”

“Aye. you’d be in the captain's jail cell.”

“But, speaking of Jasper. What do you suppose he is doing right now?”

“Hm. Knowing his sort. Likely gambling or cozying up to some of the less honorable in the city.”

Within the city of Albridge there were many places where the sun didnt reach properly, many tight, cramped alleys and hid away nooks that hid people who did not want ot be found. Places where gold was traded for sharp steel and a name. Places where the desperate rolled a set of carved bones hoping to win big lest they lose everything. These places where in ever big city, everywhere there was a lot of gold, everywhere a person could easily slip between the cracks. These were the places Jasper went with his money, where he would find a pretty face and some quality drink and just feel like the king he felt she should be.

But not today. Today he felt those shadows wrapped about his soul. Today he sat across from an older man, with wispy white hair and a set of scars across his face. A man that scared Jasper. A man who scared most people that had met him. Roar was a man of many talents, a man of influence. He was not a man you crossed and certainly not a man who you failed. Jasper found himself out in deep waters as he stared into the cup of wine in his hand.

“I thought you told me you would have those fox pelts for me, boy.”

“The dwarf didn’t want to hunt them anymore, said they were to rare. .”

“Then surely you could have gotten others.”

“Yes. I was going to but I had a problem.”

“A yes. I heard. Some upstart. They did that to your nose.”

“Yes.”

“They arrived with the same caravan, no?”

“Yes.”

“ANd you would like my help in having them removed, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Can you afford it?”

“I brough gold.”

“Of course you did. Did you know they went to the Hall of Gods boy?”

“What?”

“They are apperently to become death sworn.”

“Oh. Damn. That poses a problem, doesn’t it?”

“Quite the opposite. If you think you have the patience to wait for their death.”

“If it means I get to outlive them and piss on their grave, I will gladly wait until the end of the world.”

“Nothing so dramatic boy. Deathsworn rarely stay in the city for long. A fledgling like that? Why, we just need to find them on the road alone.”

“Then. You’ll do it?”

“Yes. But I don’t want just your gold.”

He swallowed. “What else.”

“I need, Assurances.” The man gave Jasper a most unsettling smile as he fished out what looked like a small branding iron. “When you were just a supplier. We didn’t mind you running around. BUt now, we will shed blood with you. That makes us brothers.” Before jasper could get up out of his chair a pair of massive hands grabbed his shoulders and shoved him back into it. They held him down as Roar handed the branding iron of to a lady with strang, glowing eyes and cruel, sharp features. She smiled much like Roar did, unsettling and all teeth. Sharp teeth. She gave the iron a kiss, and it heated up in an instant.

“Shhh” She put a finger to his mouth as he was about to protest, and suddenly it was impossible for him to speak. He tried to buit his entire lower jaw had seized up in painfull muscle cramps. Then he felt her tug his shirt open and the sizzling hot iron pushed into his chest. He wanted to scream and yet, no screams came.