Historical-Adventure-Quest: Part 2, After Questing Delights (Patreon)

"Dude, you're making me anxious," grumbled Bartel Lockerby from across the table.  Davian looked up at him as he spoke, meeting the pale, moon-sheen purple eyes of the Dark Elf as he lounged back onto the back legs of his chair.  His roommate gave him a cheeky grin as their gazes met.  "You're gonna wear out the power button on your phone, checking it that many times."

Small chuckles came up from around the table as Davian's fair-skinned cheeks flushed bright red and he hurriedly put down his cell phone onto the table surface.  He busied himself with looking over his character sheet as well as the electronic version of it he had pulled up on his tablet.  Everyone at the table was doing the same, using the in person sheets for direct information to track damage, gear, and acquired treasure during a session, while also monitoring their League Character ID on the Guild website.

Below the group's emblazoned name, "Zonriath's Reckoners" were their individual profile names, separated in one column from Jeremiath's which bore the additional title of 'Chronicler'.  Each tag, detailing Player name, Character name, and abbreviations of Race, Class, and Level, that had already logged in was lit up as bright green, labeled 'active'.

Everyone was here, except for one, a single grayed out name at the bottom, and the source of Davian's nervousness.  She wasn't late really, but he couldn't help but feel nervous as the hour of reckoning slowly ticked ever closer.  As a rule, they always liked to start on time, missing members or not.  Jeremiath was mostly considered a benevolent Chronicler, aka the story-teller and conductor of the pre-written modules, but he was also quite strict in his rulings.

Feeling his hands straying again to his phone, the Elf started as a gentle hand came to rest atop of his knuckles, stopping him before he could reach it.  His eyes flicked to his left side, meeting the bright, leaf-green eyes of Fauna Windgate.  The beautiful Satyr girl smiled kindly at him, fuzzy hand rubbing across his fingers consolingly.  "She will be here," she murmured sweetly.

From the head of the table, Jeremiath glanced up at the sound of his sister's voice and met Davian's eyes with the same calm, understanding look he always seemed to have.  His beard twisted up at the corners, glasses sparkling on the tip of his nose, and he nodded.  "Fauna's right," he rumbled in his thick voice.  "She probably got caught up in traffic."  The other members at the table all chimed in with nods, mockingly teasing on Bartel's part, and confident winks from Trundel and her boyfriend Luxxi.

"Yeah, you're probably right..." Davian sighed and he squeezed Fauna's hand in his before letting go and she took her graceful digits back to resume fiddling with her character sheet.  He tried to do likewise, going through his list of allocated spells for the day.  Hopefully that would take his mind off of worrying if Lenore would be there on time.  "Do you all think Lore Decipher is more important than Ward against Evil?" he asked the table at large.

Pursing her lips, Fauna scooted her chair over closer and inspected his sheet along with him, which he didn't mind at all.  Even if her own character's spells were of a different Domain, Divinity as opposed to Astral, Fauna was a veteran player and took everything about HAQ seriously, almost as much so as her stentorian brother.  Unlike him, however, Fauna didn't mind sharing advice.

"Both have their merits," she began to explain, speaking kindly and not at all as if Davian didn't know his own spells.  "Given that we are supposed to be taking on Lquillian's Fortress; though...I'd argue that Ward is more of an active, expectant utility spell versus the boosted skill challenge of Decipher.  What other spells do you have selected?"  Davian dutifully passed over his sheet and she read through Gillindorf's grimoire.

"Just like the resident egg-heads," chortled Bartel cheekily.  "Pouring over books while the rest of us just worry about what we have on hand.  Am'I right, Luxxi?"  The Dark Elf raised a ebony-skinned hand across the table at the Gnome.

Currently leaning his fuzzy head against Trundel's thick shoulder, Luxxi raised a caterpillar like eyebrow above his sparkling eyes.  "Are you talking in character or out of character?" he queried, high pitched voice always sounding close to breaking into laughter.

Bartel shrugged, hand still hovering in mid air.  "Either, little man."

Shrugging in return and rolling his eyes with a chuckle, Luxxi leaned up from his girlfriend to return the high five, his long-fingered hand somehow just as large as Bartel's.  Gnome anatomy was often odd if endearing.  "Tinker is busy working on his Gatling canon, so he cannot speak as to the allocation of magical means of his cohorts, only that it would be hypocritical to chastise them."

As a round of chuckles came up from the others, it was Bartel's turn to roll his shimmering, near iridescent lavender eyes.  "You have got to stop speaking in the third person," he teased his friend, now using a slightly thicker, harsher accent to annotate that he was speaking as his Occult Assassin character, Vord.

"Tinker narrates his life accordingly so that his thoughts and actions are all suitably in order," shot back the Gnome Artificer.

"Plus it's just bloody adorable," chimed in Trundel's thicker Highland accent as her own in game character, Dwarf Sentinel, Brunigard.  Luxxi flushed as Trundel tugged him back down into her solid arms, rubbing her feminine beard against his thick shock of hair.  The two devolved into loving titters, which drew smiles from everyone, even the mock-surly Bartel.

The clock chimed just as Fauna finished helping Davian allocate his spells for the session, and all eyes turned to Jeremiath as he closed his notes and pulled up his display.  "All right everyone," he announced gravely.  "Session officially starting.  All phones and non official electronic devices are to be put away.  Emergency calls and messages only.  If you have to break character, label your profile as AFK before you step away from the table."

As ever, everyone nodded at the rules.  The lights in the room dimmed dramatically and everyone returned to their properly spaced places, facing their tables in a semi-circle towards Jeremiath as he queued up the recording software and pressed play.  Davian tried hard to contain the surge of disappointment as their Guild Leader began to narrate the opening to their latest module.

"Intrepid adventurers," he began, deep voice having dropped an octave to a sinister rumbling tone.  Jeremiath had a real talent for voices, making him the perfect Chronicler.  "We begin our latest tale on the eve of Midsummer Solstice...a mysterious fortress has risen in the ruins of the Cryshashen Woods, gleaming like polished metal even as its very presence saps the lifeblood of the forest around it.  All around the base of this towering structure, archaic in design, the vegetation rots away to a barren waste, the corpses of blackened trees said to rustle in the dry, cold wind that howls from the very walls itself like the screams of the damned..."

As everyone leaned in eagerly, a sudden bang of the door behind them made them all jump.  Turning around, the group looked up in alarm as a heavily-framed figure staggered inside.  Davian's heart leaped into his throat as Lenore panted for breath, throwing off her heavy leather jacket and shoving herself into the nearest seat, ironically right next to him.  Everyone stared as the orc dragged out a folder and papers.  Her hair was even more frazzled than it had looked in the coffee shop and her clothes were rumpled.

"Sorry, sorry," she muttered, looking around the table apologetically.  "Work ran super late."

Jeremiath paused the camera and gave the Orc girl a calm if also slightly annoyed look, although no one else shared it.  "Good to finally meet you," he grunted.

"Same," the Orc returned, holding out her heavily-knuckled hand towards him.  "The name's Lenore Gorger.  Thanks for accepting my application for the Guild."

The Satyr shook hands with her, for once his meaty paw being enveloped by a larger one, before he let go and allowed her to shake hands with everyone else.  Davian felt her heated fist completely engulf his, and almost wondered if her touch lingered just a second longer than with anyone else before she finally sat back down and continued getting ready.  "I trust you found the place all right?"

"Yeah, not a problem on that end," Lenore retorted.  "My boss just needed me to stay till closing tonight.  I told him that won't fly from now on but I'll stay late on other nights to make up for it."

A chorus of nervous, if understanding chuckles came up as everyone, minus Trundel and Davian, continued to blink up at the towering woman in shock, even after having greeted her.  It was safe to imagine, for the Elf, that no one here had really expected how big the Orc girl supposedly joining their Guild was going to be, given that there wasn't that big a population of them in the college town.  Much more than that was her delicate handling of her pristine character sheet which she handed off to Jeremiath to look over before she got to work logging in on her Guild's database once given the WIFI password.

"Good to have you with us," the Satyr man grunted as he handed back the sheet.  He gave her a smile which she returned cheekily before he adjusted his glasses and fixed her with a slightly more stern expression.  "Next time, however, please do contact me if you're going to run late.  I make a point to always start my sessions on time, and I don't like to repeat flavor text."

His tone of voice made everyone, even the solid, tomboy Dwarf at the table flinch a bit and eye Lenore warily.  Orcs were naturally confrontational, an often overblown fact in media, but their entire culture stemmed from a need to compete, fight, and brawl over even the most mundane things.  They also weren't great when it came to recognizing authority that was not imposed by one of their own.

To everyone's complete shock, however, Lenore just nodded her head, dark hair bouncing.  Her cheeks even flushed a darker green and she gave Jeremiath a less toothy and more earnest, even sheepish grin.  "Absolutely," she grunted.  "I hate being late, and I promise next time to make sure I at least call."

Raising a fluffy eyebrow, the Saytr grinned then.  "Well...all right then!" he chuckled.  "You'll forgive me if we don't turn the lights back on for formal introductions, ruins the mood you know."  He winked at Lenore and she grinned right back.  "We can cover those in game.  Best way to get to know someone anyway, in my books."

"Sounds good, chief.  Hate to spoil a mood," she chortled then settled back into her chair.  She bumped Davian gently with her solid shoulder then, leaning down to whisper briefly in his ear, "Handle number 48702," before she finished logging into the server and the game recontinued with Jeremiath's again sinister narration of the module's introduction.

Keeping his mind mostly on the game, Davian couldn't help but watch as the final profile tag lit up bright green as Lenore finished logging into the guild.  Almost immediately of him inputting her handle number into his contacts list, a scroll icon flashed on her profile, a PM request solely meant for him.  He clicked onto it as he continued listening, adept in doing so.  So was she, it seemed, as both responded to direct questions and kept notes as they went.

Hey, miss me? she asked cheekily, tone evident even through text.

I will admit I was worried about you getting here, he responded.

Yeah, sorry about that, I told that jackass manager of mine that I had plans after work but he demanded one of the senior staff do the closing today.

I'm sorry :(.

Out of the corner of his hyper-aware eyes, Davian saw Lenore grin slightly.  I'd be more sorry if I couldn't have shown up at all, after you and DM Hornsby over there let me in so quickly.  I missed playing after I moved from Tuskwall so it means a lot.

Blushing slightly, Davian looked up to see Jeremiath had just asked his character to roll a Spellcrafting check as their party was investigating a minor plot hook meant to pull Lenore's character into the party.  "Chronicler, my Spellcrafting roll is..." he rolled the d20 in the middle of the group's shared screen with the press of a finger on the tablet.  Calculating the total he nodded confidently.  "A success.  I'd like to use a minor Spell surge to Identify the magical resonance and where it could be coming from."

Jeremiath nodded sagely.  "Roll that as well."  Calculating the result Davian informed him of, he checked his tables and proceeded to read off the notes he had prepared off-book just to get the party all together.

Returning to the messaging chain, Davian saw another PM waiting for him from Lenore.  Well aren't you a little know-it-all, she teased him, throwing him a subtle wink to dispel his immediate worries that she was being taunting.

Gillindorf is a scholar and an Arcanist, he retorted, actually managing to feel somewhat smug about his historically accurate character.  Tracking an unknown surge of Demonic magic even in a place such as this is a breeze for him.

Stop, it's too sexy.  Lenore flashed him the corner of her fangs in a grin before she returned her attention to the table as her character was engaging in a small battle just as the party was coming upon her.  "I want to use a surge of my active Blood-Rage to overpower its spell resistance," she narrated.  Rolling on her table, her character, Kulgara, was then sufficiently described in hacking into and partly through the Warp-Beast she was fighting with her maul-axe.  "After the attack, I want to use another surge by reducing my Dice Pool for Health Regen to Empower that hit."  She rolled another success and Kulgara's already powerful strike bisected the beast.

Having been sitting back and observing the short if intense combat so far, the group all whistled and blinked in surprise.  Bartel even sat forwards a bit.  "Wait, your character can do that?"

Nodding somewhat smugly, Lenore explained her character class 'Warborn' as being able to augment their already prodigious battle prowess with Bloodrage surges at the expense of passive health regeneration.  Rules aside, even as Jeremiath explained to the normally top-tier damage dealer Dark Elf why Orcs worked that way both in game and historically, Lenore gave Davian another small smirk, then returned her attention to the group at large.  "Just means I burn through my stuff a bit faster than others.  Plus I didn't want to waste anyone's time since you all already had to take time out of the session to get me involved."

The party all chimed in with immediate relieving comments about how this wasn't any trouble.  Fauna's Priestess, Allorei, wasted no time in fawning over the hulking Kulgara, healing her minor injuries, while Brunigard disposed of the Warp-Beast's corpse in an appropriate fashion, that being setting it on fire with a Rune.  They made in character introductions, ranging from wary awe on Tinker's part, to Allorei's wide-eyed amazement, Vord's mock-flippant dismissal while Bartel made sure he let it be known that secretly he was very impressed, Dwarf Brunigard's cheeky acknowledgement of her skillful blow "For an Orc," and finally Gillindorf.

As attention collectively fell onto him, he took a deep breath and then, looking at Lenore, aka Kulgara, he adopted a stern and wary expression.  Rather than greet her kindly and immediately with trust, he instead adopted an interrogative air, demanding to know how an Orc had come to wield Demonic powers, and if her sudden presence here had anything to do with the mysterious fortress that had sprouted up in the neighboring forest now rife with similar monsters to the one she had just slain.

Immediately, the party also eyed the Orc Warborn warily.  For her part, Lenore narrated that she without preamble refused to go into the specifics, rather than just blatantly explaining the details behind her character's abilities as a new player might have done.  There were no penalties or such for doing so, but it did help them all stay more immersed.  When someone asked, out of character, however as to the details, Lenore was only too happy to explain.

"When my Guild and I, Osyguth's Heralds, ran Temple of Halbarad..." she started to say, then paused and glanced at Jeremiath.  "Uhh...sorry.  Should ask prior if spoilers are okay."

The Satyr beamed at her at once.  "No, absolutely go ahead!  We never got to run that module since our adventures started after its timeline ended.  I've never met an OG group who got to play it; I heard it's horrifically difficult.  Sometime you and I need to talk Guilds; I won't lie and say I've never heard of Osyguth at the conventions."

Lenore grinned right back.  "Oh it was and no problem, but I won't spoil anything right now other than the important stuff with Kulgara.  I don't wanna waste game time.  It took us two months to finish the dungeons in that one."  The party whistled suitably and she set to talking again.  "See, Absulthryon, one of the Lords of Fell Hatred, was attempting a summoning to being back an aspect of Or'khan, the dead patron Deity of Orcs, but corrupted into a demon.  We managed to stop it and my character had to pull the totemic device off the corpse of the Aspect right before he got resurrected.  So, Kulgara received a Curse Mark from Absulthryon since I made it a point to stop the ritual while my Guild was busy fighting his minions, so now all my Blood Rage is demonic in origin."

There was a round of polite clapping.  Fauna chimed in with, "That is seriously awesome.  Cannot wait to be allowed to like her as we go on."

Jeremiath nodded and quickly returned to the narrative.  Meanwhile, as the party deliberated on where to go next, after establishing they could indeed trust this new addition to the party for now, Davian sent Lenore a quick PM while she was busy explaining her tie-in to the tower's appearance and giving them a potential hook to investigate.  Hope me being unfriendly towards you doesn't make you think I don't want you here.

Her response came as soon as she glanced at her screen once done rolling for following tracks with Vord the Assassin.  No sweat, Dahkin.  It was great roleplaying.  No way your character would trust an Orc right away after all the border wars, especially not one stinking of Demon.

He blushed a little from her praise and shot back with, I'm surprised Kulgara is so level-headed given her class' dependence on the Rage function.  Our old Berserker Gnoll used to have to roll Stability checks to not include us in his Rampages.

Well that's because my class functions on Rage being an Augment, not an activated Aura.  Plus my tribe's lineage of Lyndwyld means that I have Draconic blood which gives me immediate Stability against blood-induced effects.

Davian shook his head, chuckling to himself.  I don't think even I've obsessed over my character as much as you apparently have.  Seriously cool.

Gillindorf isn't so bad himself, she teased, throwing him again the winking emoticon of a Beholder.  Just hope that staff he's carrying isn't the only one he's got to use.

Blushing hard, Davian tried to play off the obvious innuendo.  Sure, he can always switch to the one up his butt as a backup option.

Lenore let out a guffaw of laughter, ironically at a perfectly timed taunt thrown by Vord at a gate guard as they were attempting to enter the nearby town.  There were a few curious glances from the party but she quickly came back from it with, "You're gonna have to offer to do better for him than that, Dusk-Skin," she teased Vord aka Bartel good-naturedly.

Scowling up at her, the Dark Elf flicked his snowy white locks out of his face before he fixed Jeremiath a cool, sultry gaze.  "Sure I can't do anything to convince you, surly guardsman?" he lilted.  Then he dropped the flirty tone of voice.  "I'm casting a subtle-spell Beguilement."

The Satyr rolled his eyes but nonetheless allowed it, smiling widely.  "Fine, fine, but thank you for announcing the subtle-spell.  Your spell takes effect but a passive Inspection reveals that the guards and townsfolk seem wary of newcomers and suspect magical abilities among you."

"Noted..." muttered Bartel, scribbling this down furiously on his notes before he relayed the information to the party in his again serious, darker rasping accented voice.  "Townsfolk seem nervous around magic.  Given the desecration of the surrounding forestry and the lack of magical resonance, this gives me a bad omen."

The party gave one another nervous glances, agreeing one and all with Vord's assessment, and proceeded into the village.  Turning their minds fully onto the game, Davian and Lenore left off chatting for now and dove headfirst into the adventure.  Their party investigated the sullen and silent town bordering the forest, were stymied at every turn, before finally turning to sneaking into the mayor's office that evening to search the basement that Jeremiath had alluded to being important through some very difficult skill challenges.

Sure enough, the town ended up being mind-warped Cultists of the mysterious Fortress and rather than fight off the entire village, the party instead booked it all while the townsfolk and their dogs were hot on their heels.  Endurance checks were rolled, the Priestess and Artificer fell behind and were captured, and the party ended the session facing the remaining cultists in open combat.  Just as the last one was driven away, a squad of mounted soldiers hurried onto the scene, quickly dispersing combat and taking the adventurers into custody.

As the lights were switched back on, the entire table immediately began chattering buzz excitedly as they discussed the thrilling session.  Fauna and Luxxi shuffled hurriedly over towards Jeremiath to discuss what would become of their characters now separated from the party, a common practice in the game world and always a fun angle to work into the freeing or escaping of said characters through clever roleplay.

Packing up his stuff and making sure he signed out of the tablet before stowing it in its carrying case, Davian beamed up at Lenore as she made notes to her sheets.  She caught his eye and grinned, flashing him a view of her tusks and fangs that somehow was much more charming, alluring, and rather pleasing to see after spending so much time with her.  He noticed Trundel flash him a salacious wink to which he pointedly ignored with a flick of his long ears.

As one, the entire party after final remarks had been made thanked Jeremiath for the  session and he in turn gave the closing speech.  They covered when and where they would meet next, what to expect, as well as specific news for one or two other members, Trundel and Luxxi specifically, who were planning a weekend vacation together by the next session and what they would most likely be doing in game.

It was rather late when Davian left the Satyr residence, heart and head buzzing with the excitement and vastly enjoyable game.  He was just checking on his phone to see the nearest bus station to catch a ride home when a looming shadow suddenly cast him in even further darkness than the gloom of night.  Glancing up, he grinned again, feeling dopey, up at Lenore who suitably returned the look with her usual, tusk-toothed smirk.

"Heading home?" she growled, once again wearing her rather heavily armored leather jacket.  He nodded in assent and she shrugged at his querying look.  "I was thinking of going to get some dinner.  I haven't eaten since breakfast since I wasn't aware I'd be pulling a double shift today."

He blinked in surprise up at her.  "It's not healthy to not eat for so long.  You need to take care of yourself..." he murmured, immediately concerned for the big Orc girl, before his ears twitched at her low chuckles.  She sounded amused at his fussing over her.

"I wasn't aware 'Nannying' was on your character list of skills," she teased.  He flushed a bit and she chortled even more.  "So let's assume that I don't know the city as well as I'd like and I'm hankering for a full-sized Aurochs burger.  You happen to know any good places for that?"

Thinking quickly, Davian shook his head ruefully, then before he let that small disappointment settle, he whipped out his phone and searched for one for her.  With delight, he showed her the screen, although it was very small compared to one she might have used for herself.  "Looks like there's one just a block or so down that way, past the park," he announced.

Her dark eyes lit up as she read some reviews.  "Full time Troll staff, cultural dive, deep-flank cutlets and flame-grilled patties..." she muttered to herself.  She beamed the longer she poured over his little phone in her huge paw.  "Oh hell yes, sounds like just what I need."  She passed him back the phone and rubbed her hands together eagerly, already stomping off in the direction he indicated.

A little sad to see her go, even as lovely as a view it was, he waved after her.  "Thanks for coming tonight, Lenore!" he called.  "I'll see you at the shop if that's okay?"

Lenore stopped and looked back over her burly, studded shoulder at him.  His keen eyes picked out a confused expression on her scarred, beautiful face.  Then she beamed more and turned halfway back around to look at him directly again.  "Probably should have been more specific," she grunted in mirth.  He blinked at her tone of voice, as if there was an expected punchline to what she said.  "And here I thought Elves were supposed to be savants in subtext."  She winked.

Davian stared at her from the short distance separating them for a long second before his eyes widened.  "Oh...oh you were..."

"Inviting you to come eat dinner with me?" she finished for him, grinning even wider.  Her fangs caught the light of the streetlamps overhead, making her dark skin gleam as if made from pure malachite.  "No shit, Dahkin.  It's the least I can do for getting me into a badass, new Guild so fast after moving here.  Plus..." she trailed off and turned to face him more directly, hands shoved into the pockets of her coat.  She chewed on her pierced bottom lip slightly, eyes flicking from him and away several times, then shook her head, dark hair bouncing.  "You don't have to, and I'm hungry anyways."

Warmth bloomed inside of him and he quickly smiled.  "I...I'd love to!" he announced and she immediately pepped back up.  Had she been nervous too, somehow?  "We're...going as just Guild-Mates, right?"

"Sure, absolutely," she chortled, immediately looking to be in as high of spirits as when they were fighting side by side in game only a short bit ago.  Then her dark eyes became hooded and she actually inclined her head to the side, rolling her wide shoulders back and straining the leather jacket's zipper slightly more.  He could have sworn the metal creaked as it did.  "Or...if it would make you smile like that again, I'd even let you call it a date."

The Elf stammered hard for a second before he cleared his throat.  Was this....really happening?  He decided to throw all caution to the wind.  "I suppose I could...grace my new Orc companion with my illustrious presence further, for the sake of sustenance and...perhaps a saunter about the local park after?" he asked, falling back on Gillindorf's haughty voice to hide his own nervousness.

Lenore threw back her head as before and laughed loud and long, guffawing openly.  "Ancestors, you Elves really do have to make everything sound so complicated," she chortled then stalked closer to him.  One big knuckle raised from her pocket and stroked along his furiously trembling cheek.  "A walk after dinner sounds badass, little Mage."  She held out the paw to him then, rough palm open and inviting.

Davian took it, feeling her fingers once again curl around and envelop his slender digits, but this time he wormed the two palms together, letting his skin warm against her calloused hide.  Side by side, they walked to the burger shop, chatting happily about the game session they had just left.  Dinner was a heart and boisterous one; Davian had never eaten Aurroch-burgers before but he was immediately in love with the thick cut steak-patties the grease-splattered Troll cook presented him with.  The fries were cooked in the same juices as the meat on the grill, the goats-cheese thick and spiced with pickles and herbs, and the buns hearty and thick.  He barely ate half of his burger while Lenore devoured two on her own, but they interspersed their meal with laughter, jokes, and lots of idle flirting on her part.

Once they had finished and he had his leftovers packed into a doggy bag, they left the shop after paying a big tip, and took a long, slow walk around the nearby forested park.  The moon was fully out now, the stars blanketing the sky above in whirling, glittering constellations.  Lenore listened to him prattle on about the stories and characters within that black canvas, offering some of her own people's legends about particular formations of stars.  Their hands rarely left one another's and they stopped only once to sit on a black metal park bench, set on a small rise, and overlook the glittering cityscape just below them.

The wind was slightly chilly and he felt himself huddling against Lenore's bulk for warmth until she full on wrapped a big arm around him and practically shoved his slender frame in against her ribs and side.  He flushed at the subtle but thick scent of her, not to mention the plush thickness of her solid frame pressed up against him.  They didn't talk much for a while, just basking in the quiet, awkward feeling of it all.  Lenore's big hand gripped his shoulder, sometimes idly rubbing it through his jacket and shirt.

Eventually, she broke the companionable silence.  "Thanks," she murmured.  Her voice was softer than it usually was, a slight husky growl to it all.  He leaned against her more, letting her know he was listening.  She squeezed him just a bit closer.  "This has been...really awesome.  I was nervous about moving here...all my friends are back in Tuskwall.  It seems so far away, you know?"

He nodded.  "I felt the same way when I left Homeglen a year ago," he admitted.  "I'd lived in the Commune all my life."

"You not a City Elf?" she inquired, sounding surprised, to which he snorted.

"Hardly.  I'm not so great with crowds and big, grand buildings.  I prefer the quiet of the countryside or...places like this.  Granted there are like no HAQ leagues in Homeglen."

"What's it like there?" she asked.  A chill wind brushed past them and without him realizing it, she had tugged him onto her lap.  Warmth surrounded him then as her arm curled over his waist, her thick, muscular thighs providing a very pleasant seat and source of heat, as did her arms.  His back pressed against her plush front and she nestled her chin down against his hair as they continued talking.

"Lots of trees," he explained.  "Sort of exactly a backwater community as it sounds.  Not a lot has changed since the Old Days.  We used to have one big city...sort of.  Hearthen-Hall.  It was carved naturally out of this huge old roan tree, housed hundreds of families."  He trailed off as stories about why it was no longer around filled his mind.

Lenore shifted beneath and around him.  Hot breath brushed down against his hair as she sighed.  "Suppose you have...certain people to thank for what happened," she grunted.  Her grip slackened slightly.  "Ancient history isn't exactly as ancient for some as it is others."

"History is a lesson," he murmured, gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist before she could let go of him.  She started but a second later her embrace tightened back around him and he heard her just barely growl deep in her chest, sounding pleased.  "I'd like to think we can all learn from it.  The Orcs and Elves of back then aren't the same as they are now.  We all came a long way.  Maybe if we had all been more...open-minded back then, things would be different."

She grunted again.  "Still, no demons or evil magic to blame for it all.  Just bad decisions and bad leaders."  He couldn't deny it and instead just rubbed his fingertips along the channel of her wrist, tickling the skin there.  She relaxed even more beneath him at those feathery touches.  "I'd like to think even if things had been different...we'd still be here."

"Me too," he admitted, blushing hard and grateful that Orc night-vision wasn't as sharp as an Elf's.  "Tonight has been...amazing."

"Damn right it has," she chuckled darkly.  He felt her turning him in her lap and he allowed her to do so, now sitting sideways across her legs with his dangling over one side.  Her arm held him easily in place, heads now nearly on the same level.  He'd never seen eyes so dark and fathomless before.  The way the starlight gleamed off of her lip piercing was beyond tantalizing.  "One great night to cap off a shitty day."

He chuckled, shyly leaning his cheek against her shoulder.  It felt so easy to be this close to her already, and from how she hummed against him, she felt the same way.  "One...really amazing date too."

"If you wanna call it that..." she joked, then seemed to catch the vulnerable light he was nervously shining up at her from his wide, bright eyes.  Her arm tightened a bit more around him and she chuckled softly.  "I'd have to agree."

They gazed into one another's eyes for a long moment, hesitation and nervousness obvious and warring within both their minds.  Then a phone alert chirped from one of their pockets and they let out a pensive groan, apparently having been simultaneously holding their breath.

Lenore checked hers first and sighed.  "Shit.  Got a meeting with my counselor in the morning," she grumbled in annoyance.  "Early."

Nodding, Davian slid off her lap and they stood up from the bench at the same time.  They walked together out of the park, wordlessly holding onto one another's hands again as they made the short trek to the bus station.  "You can text or call me whenever about whatever," the Elf told her eagerly, barely able to believe his luck.  "Maybe we can...do this again?" he asked hopefully just as a bus was pulling in.

Her response washed away all his worries.  Lenore practically scooped him up in her arms so that their noses were again nearly level and she beamed at him, tusks flashing even as people got off and onto the bus, averting their eyes out of polite modesty, although she seemed not to care at all.  Neither did he.  "You're damned right we will," she growled, leaning forward just a hair and rubbing her nose against his.  The feathery soft brush of skin against skin made his heart leap.  She set him back down and he hurried onto the bus, sliding into a window seat and waving excitedly at her as the bus started to pull away.

Lenore lifted one paw in goodbye, the other shoved again into her pocket, and she held it there until the bus pulled out of sight.  Davian sagged back into his seat with the biggest, dumbest grin on his face.  A tiny old Gnome woman beside him gave him a cheeky grin.  "Big night, young man?" she teased.

The Elf met her smile with one of his brightest and most charming ones in return, setting her to beaming so hard her face practically devolved into a mass of wrinkles.  "It really was, thank you for asking ma'am!"

"Ah...young love," she simpered and patted his leg with a wizened old hand.

He flinched a bit and blushed, playing with his hair between two long fingers as he cast his gaze out the bus window at the flashing lights of the street as they drove across town towards his apartment.  "I...don't know if it's exactly that...just yet," he shyly admitted.

"Forgive an old meddler for assuming," the Gnome woman again teased him.  "But old Granny Miro is never wrong."

He chuckled and passed the time till his stop chatting with the old woman happily.  He couldn't remember a time he felt more at peace.  As he bid her goodnight and entered his shared apartment, Bartel still not back somehow but that wasn't surprising, since he had a night job at a records store apparently with his cousins, he undressed and sagged down onto his bed with a happy groan.

His phone chimed as his eyes began to droop and he opened it curiously, stifling a heavy yawn.  A single line greeted his gaze, and it made him practically melt into the covers.

Good night, Dahkin.

It was from her.