The decision to leave Stonehaven was easy. There wasn't anything there for her anymore. She wouldn't go back to stealing from innocent people, and although nobles were usually far from innocent in her eyes, Rockwell wouldn't have been pleased. Besides, dwarves were no fun to steal from. They all had the same traps. Maybe if she could find some elves... But that was beside the point. There was also the fact that the local guard knew her well enough by now that it wasn't really a good idea to stay. And, for all the flack her former companions had given her, she wasn't stupid. Far from it. Sure, she was reckless, and tended to set off more traps than she disarmed, but that was fine by her. Both ways got the job done: no one else got harmed. So it wasn't all that stupid really.
The darkness funneling into the tunnels from outside made it clear what time it was, and Bryn could have laughed. Something about this whole thing reminded her of when she had first left her family. That ring, the one with Avandra's symbol etched onto it, was now around her neck, a piece of leather keeping it in place. The feather was also still on her, wrapped into the handle of her bow. A lot of the trinkets that she had taken managed to stay with her, now that she thought about it. As much as she liked to leave the past there, she also was more sentimental than she really gave herself credit for. With a quick whispered prayer to both Avandra and Sehanine, Bryn started walking into to the night.
She found River's End first. A couple months there got her a pretty penny and more than a few pretty ladies to help her out. Once again Bryn found herself settled in the shit poor part of town. Something about the atmosphere there drew her in. It wasn't that she had no money, quite the opposite. But to see people drinking heavily, laughing and gambling what little they had made... it was intoxicating. People being happy and dirt poor were more fun to be around than stuffy nobles with all their money and angst anyway. Not that common folk and beggars were free from it, but somehow they seemed to let loose more often. At least they did here. For the first time since leaving Stonehaven, Bryn found herself settling into her casual smirks and carefree laughter once again. It seemed like she hadn't freely laughed in far too long, since at least the incident with the drow.
From there it hadn't been too hard to find her old clan. They moved around a lot, but spring time was ideal for selling things in port cities, so they usually drifted there. It was almost surreal to Bryn, how easily she shifted back into nomad mode after so many years in survival mode.The two were connected, sure, but she hadn't really been a nomad in years. Not that it mattered much now. She held her head up high as she entered the temporary camp.
It was different. Normally they had places to stay for the shifting seasons. Spring was normally spent closer to Evermeet, since it was large and tended to have better trade offers than River's End ever did. Plus, they had a permanent fort of sorts there, a place that provided better shelter than the tents that the clan (her clan, she mentally corrected) were currently living in could ever offer. This wasn't normal, and that set Bryn on edge. Still not quite in control, her eyes glowed a faint grey in the low light of the morning. The situation wasn't lost on her in the slightest. How odd, that she had left in the shadow of the night, and now, all these years later, she returned with the first rays of light the sun had to offer. Life certainly had it's ways, and she murmured thanks to Pelor and a quick prayer that her companions (Stalar) were well. No alarms were ringing, and the dead silence was ringing in her ears. She was almost hyper sensitive to noise now, listening for anything at all that would placate her fears. Because even if she hadn't been back to visit, they were still her brothers and sisters, her friends. People she had grown up with. People who threw you out. The thought ran through her head, echoed where there was silence. The sound of arrows being drawn, of leather on leather, brought a sigh of relief to her. Even though she knew that arrows were being aimed at her from almost every direction, this was the clan she knew and had left behind. "It's alright! It's just me guys. Or do you hold grudges that long?" She tried to keep the shake in her voice from showing. It wouldn't due to have them know she was worried. She'd never hear the end of it.
A voice from directly behind her almost caused Bryn to turn on her heels and launch into a hug.
"It's her alright. I'm surprised we didn't smell her a mile off." Instead Bryn just laughed, a quiet but throaty chuckle.
"I love you too Vee." And with that, she did turn around and wrap the older halfling in a hug. Vivian was slightly taller than Bryn was (even if she would never admit it), and as they pulled away from each other, she rested an elbow on the top of Bryn's head, putting a scowl on her face. It was all in good fun though. Her sister turned and made some motions, ones that looked familiar but she couldn't place their meaning.
"So, what a pleasant turn of events! What brings you back to us, Bryn?" Vivian's face held a smile, but Bryn couldn't help but feel like it was off somehow. She hadn't been around her family in a while though, so she just shrugged it off. Not seeing someone for over ten years meant she couldn't judge, could no longer read her sister's face with the startling accuracy that she used to.
"Just in the neighbor hood, and I remembered you guys used to camp around here. Why aren't you using the forts?" A dark shadow passed over Vivian's face, and it surprised the young halfling. Her sister had always been so vocal about not being sad, about how happiness could be found in everything. Sure, Bryn always tried to be cheerful and vivacious, but only because her sister had been first. Just like she learned all her physical skills from her older brother. Sensing that a change of topic was in order, she went to that instead. "Where is Killian? He should have been easy to spot, given how tall he is!" That did the trick. The light returned to her sister's eyes and she giggled.
"He's out hunting today. He's gotten even taller, can you believe it?" A look of false shock was all it took to set both the sisters off in a new round of giggles. Killian was always tall, surprisngly so for a halfling. He was easily four inches taller than their father had been, and that was already quite tall for someone like them. But despite rumors that he wasn't really a halfling, they loved him all the same. He was their older brother, and nothing would change that. Besides, he still had all the skills of a halfling. If it growls like a bear, leaves prints like a bear, and has a coat like a bear, just call it a damn bear. Bryn said as much to her sister, and was pleased to hear a snort in response. "Always the same. Ten years couldn't mellow you out. Let's hope Avandra decided ten years was long enough. Don't want them running you out before the fun starts tonight." At this, Bryn just looked confused. There weren't any holidays coming up, and none of the harvest celebrations were planned. So that only left one thing, something that scared her quite a bit. Her wide eyes seemed to send the wrong message, though. "Yup, we're gonna have a feast to celebrate your return!"
After a long discussion about why that was a bad idea, Bryn resigned. Her sister could be just as stubborn as she was, and Bryn was quite sure that it ran in all of her family. Long-arrow. The name she never got to take. Her sister wondered what name she had picked as a replacement, and found it funny that she took Swift-runner. "You were always first when we held races. I bet that helped you more than once, what with the trouble you've been in?" Bryn just nodded, her eyes just as wide as they had been for the announcement. "Look, how about this. Try it out. See how tonight goes and if it goes well, travel with us again. It'd be nice to have you back, honestly. We miss having the trio. Three's a lucky number for us, and with two, half our schemes didn't work." Bryn thought it over, and just shook her head.
"You're schemes didn't work because you couldn't pull them off without me? Lies. It was because mom and dad were the leaders and let you get away with stuff." Now it was Vivian's turn to feign surprise.
"No such thing! But please? Consider it?" A nod was all it took to set her sister into another round of hugs.
The feast went well, and Bryn would never admit it, but she missed the feeling of family. Of people like her laughing and joking around about the past. Sure, she had felt left out for a few minutes as they told stories that she couldn't relate to. That she would never be able to relate to. But then they had listened to her stories, her grand exaggerations of what had happened with the Beholder, of meeting minotaurs. Of taking on the whole Vorn estate and burning it to the ground. (Obviously she left out any deaths and stretched a few details, but who would notice?) And they had all been more than happy when she announced she'd return for a bit, but that she knew she would have to leave eventually. One of the elders, whose name escaped her now, but she had known it once years ago, said she had a habit of that and habits don't die easy. It rang in her ears and sunk into her head. It wrote itself out behind her closed eyes that night as she tried to sleep, and she could feel it in the sun's dying rays and the moon's normally comforting shine. It hadn't been said in ire or spite. It had been stated like a fact, and had sounded like a word of caution.
Four years passed, and oh how they flew. Bryn felt like a new person. Laughter came easily, and although she never did learn everything that had happened in her time away, she figured it would come in due time. Apparently things had changed more than she had thought. Things like the fact that they no longer traveled as far north, opting to stay to the other directions. Or that they no longer used the forts, but tent cities that would shift a little each day. And the night watches were certainly new, only used before when they were traveling through hostile territory. But every time she tried to casually mention it, something would happen and Bryn would lose focus. Or let it drop. Vivian never reacted well to questions about those things, and it honestly scared her a little how different her sister was like that. So she went to Killian instead. Because after four years, she was going to get some answers. They couldn't keep her out of whatever loop was there for much longer.
"Killian, can we talk?" The two of them were out hunting, although they already had more than enough food for the whole camp between them and the others. He nodded was waved off the others, sending them back to camp.
"What did ya want to say?" He was studying her face, she could tell. Where as their sister was the playful one of the bunch (or so she had thought), Killian had always been studious and serious. That wasn't to say that he had no sense of humor, because that much ran in the family. But he always knew when to just sit down and say things. Bryn couldn't help but wonder if her bluntness came from him, because no one else in their family was quite like that. They liked their barbed jokes, their mean-spirited jabs, but rarely came out and said what was on their mind.
"Why all the changes? Why the night patrols and tents? And where are mother and father?" She saw the slight shake of his head. "Killian, what happened to them? I know Vivian said they left at one point, but -"
"They didn't leave, little bird," he said, cutting her off. A large hand rested on her head, and she pouted a little at the gesture and old nickname. It had been a sign of affection then, but now it only brought back thoughts of leaving, of 'flying away' so to speak. She was so caught up in that, though, his words didn't sink in until he continued. "They were killed. Vivian just can't accept that. You know how she is. They're immortal to her. Always have been, always will be." A sad smile made its way onto his face, and Bryn felt for a seat. This was news to her. After years of thinking up apologies, of wanting to see them, of needing to say a few last words... The air was thick with silence, and Bryn lost track of how long they sat like that. Finally she regained the courage to speak.
"When? How?"
"Five ago. Maybe a little longer." She felt her heart shatter at his words. While she had been going on grand adventures, killing beasts and playing the "honorable thief" in Stonehaven, her parents were killed and the clan was left without a leader. And as she listened to her brother's story of how they had been up in the north, how her parents had been in a hunting party and had come across a group of people, elves mostly. They had traded, but something had gone wrong, and only three of the original six man party made it back to the forts. Packing up had caused them precious time, and they lost a lot of the elders that she remembered from her childhood. Some made it out, but they all watched their backs now, and a lot of them wasted away without their friends and family there. Bryn couldn't imagine why someone would kill others on sight, but images of Burningwood and the drow flashed through her mind at the thought. She doubted it was them, but if there were others like them... it didn't bode well. But that was far in the back of her mind, so far away from her current thoughts that it was more like something from a dream she had once had.
Somewhere in the middle of Killian's story, night's dark hues fell upon them. And dark it was. She didn't, couldn't see any of Sehanine's radiance (goodness, she was sounding like Stalar now), and a quick glance to the sky confirmed that the moon wasn't there. She heard her brother say something, but it didn't register. A shake of her head, and he was on his way back to camp. And so Bryn sat, a stump for her throne as she processed everything that had been told to her. She looked to the sky once again, considering cursing, but she didn't. It wouldn't have been right, because there was nothing that could have been done. She knew this, she knew that the gods couldn't interfere even if they wanted to. But something about the empty slot in the sky where there was normally some sort of light made her feel hollow inside. Maybe it was the fact that it seemed darker than it had been ever before, or maybe it was the senseless deaths of her friends, her clan-mates, her parents. And for the first time she could ever remember, Bryn cried.
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