The conversation they all wanted to end persisted, forcing its way into the forefront as Amanda's coming words would reignite the matter at hand.
Amanda: Still... (A smile fading to a lost look.) What are we going to do about Ayrell? 'Uneasiness.'
As the faces of the other three slowly drained of comedy and laughter, all of it being drained away, all of them thought about Ayrell.
The jovial commotion trickled away, falling to the cracks of the floor from below, being absrobed by the wood; the bouts of song from the bar below them had returned as a moody and sad atmosphere took hold once more.
Amanda: I don't want to be the one to say it... 'Uncomfortable tone.' Even with that quest and the four of us to boot, we all got our asses handed to us, and that was something simple as fetching some Borendockett leaves for the apothecary of the guild. (Looking down in a sense of failure.) It should have been a simple pick and go; instead, we walked into that.
It was a thought that was on everyone's minds—the simplicity of something turning into a nightmare of scales and teeth feasted for flesh and bones of unsuspecting souls.
Amanda: (Leaning back.) Even in his support role, he remains poor at it, consistently making mistakes that force one of us in a bind to remain far in the rear; this time it was me that got scraped up. 'Pausing.' Next time it could be one of you and worse.
A fidgeting made itself known; it was coming from the chair of the shieldsman, lifting back then down, still shifting his weight about, attentively listening to Amanda.
Amanda: I think we should... 'Unsure.' I think he should...
Before she could think or speak any further, a familiar voice butted in, no longer comical; it was cold and to the point, piercing the issue at its heart.
Feryn: Alright... Let's stop beating around the bush, shall we? (Without hesitation in his voice.)
Amanda kept her mouth sealed, wanting to speak but knowing that it would be better to give the floor to someone else, a weight growing in her chest the more she spoke about Ayrell.
Feryn: Well. 'Pausing.' I say, we just kick him out! 'Confident.' Plain and simple.
Sitting with his arms folded tightly and looking at the other three in turn. Born from all of their thoughts, the conversation moved on, Feryn spearheading it in his coming tirade.
Feryn: Amanda just said what we are all thinking it in one way or another; we need to take some sort of action against him. He is giving useless people a bad name. (Shrugging his shoulders back, now looking up to the ceiling.)
Rache turned, giving Feryn a dirty side glance.
Feryn: I doubt anyone would actually want him in their party. To be frank, keeping him in ours is charity and a lifetime favour in my eyes, no matter what we promised ourselves as kids in that place. (Tapping the chair with his foot.)
The three women listened to Feryn's words; all of what was said had cut deeply into them all, as the truth cuts deeper than any blade made by man or dwarf, even gods.
Feryn: Once we complete this quest of "plant picking," we can cut his strings and find someone better suited for us. 'Amicable.' It's about time, and the guild wouldn't punish us for it if we all agreed to it.
The cat was out of the bag and the room became heavier with all of its content spewing out, but also lighter at the same time, a conundrum of human emotions at play. The thought that was on all of their minds for a long time had come to fruition in an actual conversation rather than passing jests or slights that faded off.
*TAP, TAP, TAP OF A FOOT ON WOOD.*
The small, curved sheet of metal on Feryn's foot became the metronome of time passing as everyone mulled over the words of the young man in their heads. Rache, Yervel, and Amanda perked up, not out of interest but out of shock at the words they all heard; it was now finally in the open, all with their ideas and opinions that were seeping out.
Amanda, still sitting by the window, alone and quiet, soaked it all up.
Yervel rocked on the bed, side to side, her long purple hair flowing with her rocking motions.
Yervel: 'Flustered.' Damn! Way to go, dropping a truth bomb like that, FERYN! (Raising one eyebrow.) How long have you been bottling that one up for? (Glancing at the window, then back to the centre of the room.)
Feryn shrugged once more, not answering the question, knowing he had said more than enough.
Yervel: Well, I'm leaning more towards Amanda's and Feryn's way of thinking. 'Pondering for a moment.' Yes, he stinks at everything other than support, and even that he is poor at, he just scrapes by. (Listing things on her fingers.)
Amanda's eyes and hand moved to her arm, hearing the unintended pun.
Yervel: 'Composing herself.' Magic is a big no-no, as I already perfectly fill that role. (Putting her hand on her chest.) Swordsmanship is a dud, as we have Feryn for that in both roles and Amanda as backup with a sprinkle of her own magic. Also, scouting... pfft, Rache has no equal other than her own reflection and shadow.
Closing her fist, the thin little fingers recoiled back into her palm as she placed her hand back onto the bed.
Yervel: All he can really do is sit back while we do all the work as he parses out the odd potions when needed and does menial jobs, so he barely fills the support function.
The swaying motion of the little magician returned, and Rache and the others just listened on.
Yervel: Even then, he gets in the way, one way or another. (Putting a finger on her bottom lip.) Remember when we went into the sewers and faced that giant rat last month? It always went after Ayrell; looking back, he is more akin to bait than support. 'Laughing.' Still... in the end, we did kill it after half a day or so of filling it full of old cheese and Mellockion poison. I think we spent more on the cheese than what the quest offered, thank to Ayrell. (Stomach growling.)
*RUMBLING OF A STOMACH.*
Yervel: I could do with some cheese right now... or that soup Magio makes. 'Salivating.' Preferably without the poison. 'Groaning.' I'm starving!
*TINY CREEK.*
Now lost in thought for food, Yervel halted her imagination of cheese, turning towards the door and then back to the window, shaking her head slightly at something that came and passed.
A short red ponytail flicked around, seeing Yervel's attention on the door, now chiming in with her own opinion, not hearing anything or sensing anyone or anything coming from the door.
*ANNOYED GRUMBLE.*
Rache: All you think about is food. We are all hungry; we haven't eaten in a day and a half. 'Grimacing.' Cheese is the least of our problems right now, and to be blunt, something we can't even afford, even a small chunk of it. (Rolling her eyes into the back of her head.)
Yervel stomach groaned.
Rache: Also, don't remind me of the Bermar's rat infestation; I can still smell those sewers in my thoughts. For a small village, they have a lot of shit and an extensive sewer system that even the best of scouts could get lost in.
Rache shivered at the thought of the sewers, never wanting to return to them, pinching at the tight-fitting suit that showed off her slender curves.
Rache: I had to burn my last set of underclothes; I couldn't get the smell out no matter how hard I tried. 'Recollecting.' Plus, you know yourself; it isn't fair to blame Ayrell for that. The cancellation on the quest would have been double what we would have spent on fees to the guild for the surplus of old cheese, plus, wasn't he the one who came up with the whole idea of mixing the poison into the cheese?
Yervel went quiet for a moment, her swaying stopping, pouting slightly.
Rache: It might have taken a bit longer to do and he was the one who went in while we all stood guard. (Staring at Yervel.) I think your idea was to... let me think. 'Rude.' I know! Use a FIREBALL and burn it to the hells of the great beyond... If it wasn't for Ayrell's quick thinking, you would have killed us all with a methane explosion, or worse, sunk a large portion of the town with your idiocy.
A reply quickly shot back at Rache's word.
Yervel: Well, we are still here, aren't we? And... this isn't about me! So don't try and change the subject; I am just being honest about him, unlike you... 'Angry.'
*CRIMSON EYES STARED DEEPLY AT YERVEL FOR A MOMENT, THEN TO FERYN.*
Rache: Not changing anything, just stating facts. (Looking at Feryn.) Still, I'm pretty sharp and cold, but that was as blunt as an ice frostsmith, Feryn. What gives? (Looking from Feryn to Yervel.) 'Forward tone.'
No answer came from the blonde-haired man; he turned away slightly regretting what he said, knowing it might have cut some people more than others, but deep down he knew that someone needed to say it.
Rache: I'm not saying that he is the best. But we do need someone to fill the support role; all parties need one, no matter their experience. (Thinking for a moment.) Perhaps he just needs a bit more time building his skills some more. 'Worried.' Ayrell isn't like us; he might not have been given a special gift at birth or at coming-of-age ceremony, but he always puts his heart into everything he does. (Looking around to the others.) That alone is worth something, isn't it?
No immediate answer came.
Rache: Well, isn't it?
Little legs clad in leather and long dry muddied boots clapped off the wooden frame of the bed, bouncing back up and then down from the budding magician, chips of mud meeting the burnt remains of the cloak below.
Yervel: Worth... Well, that worth you call Ayrell is making us poorer and hungrier each quest that goes by. 'Direct.' No matter how much training he goes through, it just doesn't stick; it amazes me also, and not in a good way. (Still swinging her legs.) Remember when the guild master took a crack at him and nearly ended killing him with one strike? How he survived I will never know.
Rache put her head down in defeat by the words of the magician.
Yervel: Come on... aren't you thinking the same thing, Rache? 'Annoyed.' You say that "he needs more time." Okay, so how long do you think he needs? A month, a year. Heart and tenacity can only get you so far—that is, before a lizard gets to you or worse...
They all slyly looked at each other for a moment before Yervel continued speaking.
Yervel: Look, we are flat-broke as it is; we were all banking on that one quest to get us by; even if it was herbs, it would have been something... You know the saying, "Some coin is better than no coin.
Yervel rubbed her fingers together, imitating coins being shuffled together.
Yervel: (Feeling Rache's gaze.) Don't get me wrong, we need someone to support us, but Ayrell just isn't that person. He has no affinity for magic or common skills, let alone what you, Feryn and Amanda tried to teach him in close quarters combat. I should know; I have tried myself to impart my wisdom on him and failed.
Feryn cut into Yervel's words then went quiet.
Feryn: No wonder he is so shit at magic if you are his teacher. 'Laughing.'
Angry violet eyes squinted at the shieldsman.
Yervel: Can it pea brain... As I was saying, before this man-goblin grew sentience and spoke up. 'Calming.' Last time, a spark nearly made him pass out when he tried to conjure a simple light spell; it was something all beginners use in dungeons to light the way; even Feryn can do it and he lumps around that shield and sword all day. 'Mocking tone.' Ayrell is not an empty vessel with potential; he's entirely empty, he's a commoner through and through...
Rache spoke up at the harshwords, and, Amanda and Feryn shot upand eyebrow.
Rache: Hey, that isn't right; he isn't a commoner. 'Serious' Don't call him that.
Yervel shrugged her shoulders, not knowing what else to say. Rache leaned forward, then back to the wall.
Yervel: Well, what would you call him? He can't use magic, and he can't use skills or even learn them properly to a degree of being useful. (dropping her shoulders.) I'm just saying the truth—I know it hurts to hear... (Stomach grumbling.)
Rache paused, thinking for a moment about the words and the hurtful truth to them.
Rache: I don't know what to call him, but I won't call him that. (Looking away from Yervel.) He is, however, our friend; he's my friend... We can't kick him to the streets with nothing to show for it. You know how far failed adventurers get and ones let go, let alone commoners with no skills; even I feel bad just saying that moniker. (Looking at the metal shield.) Regarding Feryn, I believe his words are a bit too severe. I would support ejecting him from our party. 'Pausing.'
Rache looked to the other three one by one, Feryn still looking away.
Rache: Still, aren't we all overreacting? We haven't even completed this quest yet, and you want to let him go. 'Firm.' Four is better than three! It's simple math that even Feryn could do; its the reason why we got away from those lizards in the first place.
The light tapping stopped, and a rebuttal followed. The young man turned to meet Rache's gaze.
Feryn: Hey, I can count, you know! 'Mocking' Still, I wouldn't classify him as a whole though; he's more like a half or a quarter, so the numbers game doesn't work here and never has; even my mathematical knowledge can count that far and see it for what it is. 'Resolute.' When he's with us, one of us is always protecting him. So not four at all. More, like two. Two fighting and one protecting, while the last one... well, you already know how this goes. (Waving his hand off.) The reason those lizards ran off wasn't Ayrell, it was me and my big shield holding the rear as you all booked it for the exit. 'Grinning.'
Yervel muttered something herself and noticed the deep scratches in the shield, knowing Feryn's words were somewhat true.
Yervel: "Mathematical" Big word for a pervert and "big shield"; you are over compensating something. 'Grinning.' Plus, you love the rear, don't you... hehe.
Amanda spoke up, not letting Feryn go on the offensive to Yervel's blatant trap in return for what he said about the dreams, but smiling in her head before letting it fade away on her quick wittedness, the atmosphere in the room still to heavy for happy thoughts.
Amanda: That's enough of that Yervel (Looking at the window.) I am truly at a loss for what to do. I don't want to kick him out either, but what other options do we have? (Turning to Rache.) And no, we wouldn't leave him to fend for himself, Rache. I'm not that cruel and none of us are to even allow the other to do it, not even Feryn. (Looking to the door, something caught her attention before fading away.)
Amanda's words became more resolute.
Amanda: I know he is more of a liability than anything, sadly; we all just agreed on that in our own way, even you, Rache. So he has to go... eventually. 'Exhalling.' I don't want him to think...
A light clack came from the door, followed by a soft clunk that hit the base of the door, and the handle jostled loud enough for all of them to hear it. Again, the room fell eerily silent; only the ambient noises from the bar below seeped through the floor, as did the patrons' natural comings and goings of drunken song.
As the sound pulled the four of them away from the discussion at hand, their eyes were now fixated on one thing—it was the lone door.
The shuffles of feet moved away, slowly fading to silence.