Rising with the sun

Posted on 07 Oct 2020 @ 2:59am by Warrior Martin Josceran

1,496 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Lore's Labour's Lost
Location: Martin's home / Guard station
Timeline: Cloudreach 16th

The morning light filtered through the curtains and landed on Martin's face. He groaned, turned around and lay on his stomach for a minute. What time was it ? He could hear the rumble of a busy street beneath his window, a sure sign that he'd slept longer than usual. In the distance he heard the Chantry bell toll. Well, that answered his question - it was time to get up if he didn't want to be late.

He got up, washed sumarily with the cold water contained in a wooden bucket by the window, and slipped on his clean clothes. A wet hand in his coppery hair was all the grooming he needed ; shaving would wait after he'd had some coffee. Down below he could hear the animated voices of two children. Fey and Arran were already up, it seemed.

"Martin ? You up ?" There was a knock at his door. "You're gonna be late."

"Coming !" He opened the door and smiled at Raoul, his lodger. Martin got room and board for a modest fee, though he suspected his presence was also considered a good deterrent against thieves and other unwelcome visitors. He was fine with that - Raoul had pretty much welcomed him into his family, and he was grateful for it. After he'd left the Templar Order, he'd had to vacate his rooms pretty much the same day, and would have wound up sleeping it rough for a few weeks if not for Raoul's kindness.

The middle-aged man harrumphed and led the way downstairs, where the table was already set up. Arran was eating toast with all the solemnity befitting his four years of age, while his older sister Fey nursed a cup of hot milk and honey, still yawning between sips.

"Here." Raoul set brusquely a cup of coffee in front of Martin, who inhaled deeply the wafting aroma.

"Thanks."

"You look tired."

"Hmm-mm, late night." Martin took a sip of the burning hot beverage. Raoul was not a wonderful cook but he did always have freshly-grinded coffee.

"Anything up ?"

"Oh, brawls, muggings, the usual."

"I see." Raoul glanced back at his adoptive children. "Alright you two, get ready for class. You know Sister Bénédicte doesn't like it when you're late."

Getting permission from the Chantry to let his children attend the regular class, rather than the one in the Alienage, had been a hard-won struggle.

"Yes, father," Fey said, brushing a strand of long brown hair behind her long pointy ear. "Come on Arran, I'll help you put your shoes on." She was more grown-up than her years - sometimes too much so, and used to bossing her little brother around. As she was doing just now. Raoul watched them, a fond smile on his weathered face, before turning back to Martin.

"I've heard rumors. About the streets growing more dangerous, especially at night. And people disappearing. Is it true ?"

"Some of it," Martin acknowledged. "I don't know how much just yet, but I'm looking into it."

"You'd tell me, right ? If it was dangerous to let the kids out in the street."

"Of course I would," Martin said, surprised Raoul would even ask that. "I'd never risk something happening to you or the children. You know that, don't you ?"

"Yeah... yeah, of course. Forgive me, Martin, I'm a bit on edge."

Raoul did look weary, with dark circles under his eyes, his wrinkles deeper than Martin remembered, and he put a hand on his lodger's shoulder. "Raoul, is something wrong ?"

"No... nothing major. Just, Arran's told me some of the other kids make fun of him." Raoul clenched his teeth. "He's only four - Maker, the other children are only four too ! - and they already absorb the prejudice of their parents. I'm... just worried about what kind of world I'm raising my kids in. Children are always a target, and elven children... so many people assume that they won't be missed, or that no one will care..."

Martin nodded in understanding. A lot of people had tried to dissuade Raoul when he had decided to adopt elven children, and more than a few nasty words had been said. In fact Raoul never ever mentioned his extended family at all, which was a rather eloquent omission.

"If it makes you feel any better, most of the reports about disappearances were for adults," he said after a moment. "There was one report about missing children but my understanding is that they were found later."

Before Raoul could say anything, Fey came back with Arran. They were clean and dressed, ready for Chantry school, though Fey as always let her hair untied so they would hide her ears. And so did Arran, though his was shorter.

"We're ready !"

Raoul glanced at Martin. "I'll walk the kids to school, then head over to the shop. Lock the door behind you if you need to go out."

"Will do. I might be home late again today. Bye Arran, bye Fey, have a good day ! Make Sister Bénédicte proud."

Arran giggled and waved at him as they left, while Fey more soberly smiled. Martin watched them leave, bouncing blond and brown hair next to Raoul's own greying head. Part of him was tempted to drop by the school and scare a few four-year olds into being nicer to Arran ; but he knew doing that would do more harm than good. Escalating this matter would not help, and at worst it would get the children kicked out or sent back to the Alienage school. Maybe the children would be happier there, with other elves, but the sheer unfairness of it grated ; and besides, the Alienage school was much farther, and the path a lot more dangerous for children this age.

Having sipped the last of his coffee Martin went back up to his room to shave and put on his belt, sword, and the rest of his standard issue equipment. Usually he could have taken his time, but he was supposed to meet Kalian and Sister Elinowy this morning, and he didn't want to be late.

As promised he locked the door behind him and set off at a brisk pace, pushing back a few strands of hair as he did so. It was really getting to the length where he should have it cut, but somehow he never got around to it.

Audrey was long gone when Martin made it to the station, and instead he ran into the morning shift ; Enguerrand, Josceline and Géraut, who by the looks of it were about to go out for their free patrol. Enguerrand blinked in surprise when he spotted him.

"Huh, I thought your shift was this afternoon."

"It is, but I need to see witnesses this morning," Martin said with a dismissive handwave. "The mugger from last night. You know the magistrates get funny about testimonies made later than in the hours following the event. I don't want to let this one walk on bad procedure."

"I see. Well, Johann is manning the desk, but I'm sure he'll be happy for the extra help."

"Thanks. Have a good patrol. Speaking of - where are you headed ?"

"The docks," Josceline said, patting the hilt of her sword. "Heard some rumours about smugglers. We'll see if anyone saw anything."

"Have you heard about the missing people ?" Martin asked, and judging by the exchanged glances, they had.

"Refugees, right ? I'm guessing faction wars in the refugee camp," Géraut said, shrugging. "Probably killing each other for scraps."

"Well, I'm going to take a look later. With a friend. Figured I should mention it in case anything happens."

Enguerrand frowned. "You sure it's a good idea ? The Fereldans don't like us as a whole but guards even less."

"Let them fight it out," Géraut suggested. He didn't like Fereldans. Once he'd told Martin - over an ale - that his family had been granted a noble title, and lands, during the Orlesian invasion of Ferelden. After the country had regained its independance, Géraut's family had lost everything. He hadn't even been born at the time, but he carried enough bitterness for two lifetimes.

Martin knew better than to tackle the prejudice head on. "I'll just ask a couple of questions," he said. "In and out. I, huh... might not be in uniform while I do it."

His three fellow guards glanced at each other, shrugging. Being on different shifts, they weren't really close. They'd show common courtesy and solidarity to a fellow guard, but obviously didn't feel obligated beyond that.

"Suit yourself," Enguerrand said. "Do log it in the book, to be on the safe side. Joss, Gerry, let's head out."

The three guards marched out, leaving the station a lot more quiet. Martin gpt behind his desk, angling his sword so he could sit, and pulled out a quill to sharpen it. He had a few minutes to kill before Kalian and Elinowy arrived.

 

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