After A Rest

After getting a night of fitful sleep, Storm trudges down the stairs from the tavern room. She reaches the base of the stairs and looks around. Sitting at a table all by herself is the elf Storm had left with previously. Storm sighs heavily and walks away from the stairs. She passes the bar, puts in a quick drink request, and then walks over to the table with the elf.

At first, Storm just stands by the table and stares at the elf. The elf gives the draconian a hesitant smile and gestures to the chair across from her. Without a word, Storm pulls out the chair, spins it around, and sits, resting her arms across the back of the chair.

"Alright. Lets talk."

The barkeep brings over a tankard of ale for Storm and the two fall into quiet conversation.

A few minutes later, Vesta and Zukar descend the stairs side by side, deep in conversation in the Ramtovi tongue. Her expression falters when she notices Storm and the elf. Her lips press into a thin line, and she leans slightly towards Zukar, muttering something to him.

Then, she steps forward and crosses the room, hesitantly approaching the table.

“Good morning...?” She says, her tone polite, but edged with uncertainty.

"Sorry to hear about Nyx... If I'd..." Storm sighs and her words trail off as Vesta and Zukar approach.

Storm looks over at Vesta and Zukar after Vesta greets them. "Morning."

The elf looks over and smiles. "Good morning!"

Storm sighs. "Oh right. Vesta, Stella. Stella, Vesta. Stella, Tristan. Tristan, Stella."

"Actually, please call me Zukar if you wouldn't mind. My old name..."

"Attracts unwanted attention. I gotcha." Storm nods. "Sometimes you need a new name and a new start."

Stella looks to Storm. "You didn't take a new name."

"Sure I did. You think my parents named me Storm?" Storm lifts the tankard but doesn't drink, holding it still for a few seconds and then setting it back down. "Why don't you two have a seat? Join us."

Vesta looks between the two of them, one eyebrow raised. Whatever conclusion she comes to, she keeps to herself, offering only a small shrug as she slips into a seat and tugs Zukar down beside her.

Her nails tap idly against the table as her gaze shifts to Storm.

“I see your shadow isn’t clinging to you today.” Her head tilts, just slightly. “Not that I’m complaining. She kind of creeps me out, if I’m being honest.”

She leans back, settling in, then turns her attention to Stella.

“So, Stella,” she says, her voice lighter now. “Are you new to Volaire? I don’t recall seeing you before.”

Storm sighs, her eyes closing as she rubs her forehead. "Yeah. I still need to find her. Apologize. Assuming she isn't absolutely petrified of me now."

Stella looks from Storm to Vesta and leans her chin into her palm. "Brand new. Popped in through the guilds rez circle actually."

Zukar sits down beside Vesta and slips his hand onto her thigh. "Well, I'm sorry to hear about your introduction to the city."

The elf shrugs one shoulder. "The goal was Volaire. I made it, didn't I?"

Zukar nods with a soft chuckle. "I suppose that is true."

Stella looks to Vesta. "So, are you friends with Storm?" She shakes her head. "Silly question. Obviously you are. She's not growling in your direction."

"Hey. I'm not that mean." Storm says defensively.

"Sweetheart, you're a-"

Storm growls. "I'm not your sweetheart."

"Okay. Sorry." Stella turns back to Vesta. "So, anyways, what dirty little secrets can you tell me about Storm?"

Storm rolls her eyes.

Vesta watches the exchange between them, surprise flashing plainly across her face, but just for a moment. Then she smooths it into an easy, practiced smile as she clears her throat softly.

“Secrets about Storm?” She echoes, giving a light, dismissive wave of her hand. “I think the far more interesting topic of conversation is you.”

She leans forward, one hand reaching for Zukar’s to give it a light squeeze before resting her chin in the palm of the other. Her attention settles fully on Stella now, bright and deliberate.

“Are you from the Elven Kingdom? What brought you all the way out here? Is Volaire what you expected, or is it disappointing so far?” She asks, the questions quick, not quite leaving space for the conversation to drift back.

“Oh-”

Without breaking eye contact for long, she reaches into the bag at her hip and draws out her rune pouch, setting it neatly on the table between them.

“Have you ever had your fortune read?” Vesta’s smile widens. “If you’d like to try, I’m quite skilled.”

Her fingers tap lightly against the pouch.

“The people here have become far too predictable to read. It would be nice to have something… new.”