The warmth of the Hollow Tankard enveloped Lucan once more, a stark contrast to the lingering chill of Dorrell's suspicion. The murmur of conversation had resumed, though it seemed a few patrons still cast surreptitious glances his way. He spotted Sera and Briane at their corner table, their expressions a mixture of concern and curiosity. Mark was still absent.
As Lucan approached, Sera's brow remained furrowed. "What did he want, Lucan? You looked like you were facing a tribunal out there."
Lucan shrugged, sliding back onto the wooden bench.
"Just a few friendly inquiries about my… methods. Captain Dorrell has a keen interest in ensuring Dunmire remains a haven of peace and quiet. Apparently, my abrupt resolution of the bandit problem didn't quite fit his definition of 'quiet'."
Briane's lips thinned. "He's right to be cautious. We live in precarious times. And a stranger appearing as you did… well, it raises questions."
"Questions I answered," Lucan said, his gaze flicking towards the bar where Gorok, the stout dwarven proprietor with a perpetually grumpy expression, was polishing tankards with unnecessary vigor. "Though I doubt I entirely eased his concerns."
Sera reached out and touched his arm briefly, her touch surprisingly light. "We know you helped us, Lucan. That should count for something."
"In an ideal world, perhaps," Lucan replied, accepting the refilled tankard a serving girl placed before him. This one managed to avoid spilling any ale, a minor victory. "But the Evermarch doesn't strike me as particularly 'ideal'."
He took a long draught of the ale, the bitter hops a welcome contrast to the sweetness of the stew he'd finished earlier. His gaze then drifted towards the tavern entrance, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"You mentioned those Drow outside," Sera said, following his line of sight. "Did you… speak with them?"
Lucan nodded slowly. "Briefly. Gorok's hospitality doesn't extend to their kind."
Briane snorted. "Gorok wouldn't offer a goblin a seat by the fire, let alone a creature of the Underdark."
"The male seemed… out of place," Lucan mused aloud. "Surface-born, Riverlands even. Claimed to be looking for somewhere to belong."
Sera's eyes widened slightly. "A surface Drow? That's… unusual."
"The female was different," Lucan continued, his voice low. "Spoke of escaping the Underdark. There was a weariness in her eyes that spoke of… hard travels."
A silence fell over their small corner, the lively sounds of the tavern seeming to dim around them. The weight of the world outside, the dangers of the forest, the prejudice within the town, all seemed to press down on them.
Finally, Sera broke the silence. "So, what will you do now, Lucan? Captain Dorrell's warning… it sounded serious."
Lucan swirled the ale in his tankard. "Repair my gear. Maybe earn some coin. And… I'm curious about those two outside." He pushed himself to his feet. "Finish your drinks. I'll be back shortly."
He made his way towards the tavern entrance, nodding curtly to Sera and Briane. As he stepped back into the twilight, the two Drow were still there, their red eyes fixed on him.
"Well, well," the male Drow said, a wry smile twisting his lips. "Back for more of Gorok's charming ambiance?"
Lucan ignored the jab and focused on the female. "You mentioned escaping the Underdark."
A flicker of pain crossed her elegant features. "It is not a place one leaves willingly."
"And the chains?" Lucan gestured to the scuffed metal around her wrists and neck. "Hardly typical travel attire."
The male Drow's restless eyes darted around nervously. "That's… complicated."
The female Drow sighed, a soft, weary sound. "My name is Lyra. And these… these are a reminder of a kindness I did not deserve." Her voice held a hint of the Underdark's melodic cadence, even tinged with surface weariness. "I was taken by a group of surface raiders near one of the upper entrances to the Blackroot Vaults. They… they intended to sell me."
"Sell you?" Lucan's brow furrowed. Slavery was outlawed in most of the free West, though it still existed in the shadows and certainly within the Eastern Dominion.
Lyra nodded, her gaze distant. "My kind are… prized by some. For their skills, for their appearance… for darker purposes."
The male Drow, fidgeting beside her, interjected. "My name's Cassian. I… I helped her escape. These bastards were heading south, towards the Bloodfang Peaks. I knew a few… less savory routes through the undergrowth and managed to get her away from them a few nights ago."
Lucan's violet eyes narrowed, assessing Cassian. The surface Drow's shifty demeanor didn't inspire confidence, but Lyra's quiet dignity seemed genuine. "And why are you still wearing the chains, Lyra?"
Lyra's gaze fell to the worn metal. "They are… skillfully crafted. Made by those in the Underdark with techniques unknown to most surface smiths. They are designed to… inhibit movement and other natural abilities of my kind. And the locking mechanism… it's intricate. Cassian… he doesn't have the tools or the knowledge to remove them."
Cassian shuffled his feet. "Underdark craftsmanship… it's on a whole other level. Tried everything I could."
Lucan considered them both. Prejudice against Drow was rampant, and Lyra, in chains, was a walking target. Yet, Cassian had risked himself to free her. There was a strange dynamic here.
"So," Lucan said slowly, his mind already turning over possibilities. "You need passage west. And you need those chains removed, Lyra."
Lyra's red eyes met his, a spark of hope flickering within them. "If it is possible… yes."
Lucan glanced back at the warm glow of the tavern. He needed armor. He had a debt to consider with Sera. And now, these two outcasts presented another complication. But something about Lyra's quiet desperation resonated with the outsider in him.
"There's a dwarf in this town," Lucan said, turning back to them. "Borin Stonehand. He's an armorer, but dwarven smiths often possess knowledge of intricate mechanisms and unusual metals. If these chains are made with the skill you describe… he might be able to dismantle them. It won't be easy, or cheap. But it might be your best chance."
Lyra's breath hitched. "You… you would help us?"
Lucan shrugged, a familiar weariness settling over him. "Let's just say I understand what it's like to be judged for what you are. And sometimes, a little chaos can shake things up." He looked at Cassian. "But you try anything… anything at all… and you'll regret it." His gaze was hard, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
Cassian swallowed, nodding quickly. "Understood. Just want to get her safe."
Lucan nodded towards the inner keep. "Borin's forge is that way. Within the first courtyard."
Lyra's eyes filled with a cautious gratitude. "Thank you, Lucan of the surface."
Cassian just nodded, relief washing over his shifty features.
Lucan then turned and started to walk back towards the tavern. "Well, I'll see you two tomorrow."
The warmth of the Hollow Tankard enveloped Lucan once more, a stark contrast to the lingering chill of the twilight and the weight of his unexpected promise. The boisterous murmur of conversation seemed to fade slightly as he stepped back inside, a few curious glances still following him. Sera and Briane remained at their corner table, their expressions now a blend of anticipation and unspoken questions. Mark was still conspicuously absent.
As Lucan approached, Sera's brow remained slightly furrowed. "Back so soon? Did you… resolve your curiosity?"
Lucan nodded, sliding back onto the wooden bench. "In a manner of speaking. There are… complexities. Those two outside… they need help. And I might have offered it."
Briane's lips thinned. "Help? Drow? Lucan, are you sure that's wise? People here… they aren't exactly welcoming to their kind. It could cause friction."
"Friction is sometimes unavoidable," Lucan replied with a shrug. "One of them is… in need. Bound by chains that are not easily broken."
Sera's eyes widened slightly. "Chains? What do you mean?"
"Exactly as it sounds," Lucan said, his gaze distant for a moment as he recalled the sight of the scuffed metal. "And they need someone with… specialized skills to remove them. I told them about Borin Stonehand."
"Borin?" Briane's surprise was evident. "The armorer in the inner keep? You think he can help?"
"He's a master smith, isn't he?" Lucan countered. "And dwarves often have a knack for intricate metalwork. It's their best chance."
Sera nodded slowly. "Borin is skilled, that's true. But approaching him with Drow… well, it will likely raise some eyebrows among the guards and within the keep. People don't trust Drow, they'll make comments, but they won't outright attack them. It's more an unease, a deep seated prejudice."
"Let them raise eyebrows," Lucan said, a hint of defiance in his voice. "Lyra needs help, and Borin is the best option I know of. We'll go to him directly in the morning. No sneaking about."
He took another draught of his ale, the familiar bitterness a small comfort. The weight of his decision settled upon him. He had enough of his own problems, yet he had offered aid to two outcasts. Something about their plight, Lyra's quiet desperation and Cassian's desperate loyalty, had resonated with him.
"You're taking a risk, Lucan," Sera said softly, her gaze filled with concern. "Getting involved with Drow… it could make things more difficult for you here."
"Perhaps," Lucan shrugged. "But avoiding difficulty isn't always the priority." He pushed himself to his feet once more. "I need to find lodging for the night, somewhere within reasonable distance of the inner keep gate. And I should probably try to get a sense of Borin's forge before morning."
He paused, his gaze turning towards Sera. "And Sera… about the debt you owe me. You said yourself, my actions this morning saved you and Briane from a grim fate."
Sera's expression softened, a look of sincere gratitude in her eyes. "That is true, Lucan. I owe you a great debt. My life, perhaps."
"Life is a precious thing," Lucan agreed, a thoughtful expression on his face. "And debts of that nature should be repaid with something equally valuable. You mentioned you apprenticed with an alchemist, Master Elara. Alchemy is a rare art, one I find… intriguing. Perhaps we could come to an arrangement. This life debt… in exchange for an introduction to Master Elara? And perhaps… the opportunity to learn from her?"
Sera's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. "You? Interested in alchemy? I hadn't expected that."
"There are depths to me you haven't plumbed," Lucan replied cryptically. "And I believe I possess a certain… aptitude for such things. Consider it a way to repay a life debt with the gift of knowledge, a skill that could be… beneficial to me in the future."
'I've always been interested in alchemy, never found anyone to teach me though.' He thought to himself.
Briane leaned forward, clearly interested in this development.
Sera considered his offer, her gaze assessing. "Master Elara is selective about her students. Alchemy demands dedication and a keen mind. But… a life debt is significant. And the knowledge is indeed valuable. Perhaps… perhaps we can discuss this further after you've helped these Drow. Let's see what kind of man you truly are, and if you possess the discipline for such a demanding art."
"A fair proposition," Lucan said, a small, knowing smile touching his lips. He had secured a potential path to a rare skill while acknowledging the weight of the debt. He nodded curtly to both of them. "I'll see you both in the morning."
As Lucan made his way towards the bar to inquire about rooms, the complexities of his situation were deepening. He was now committed to helping outcasts, potentially under the scrutiny of the town guard, and had just leveraged a life debt for a future opportunity in a rare and powerful art. The brewing storm in Dunmire was indeed gathering strength, and Lucan was finding himself drawn further into its intricate web.
He needed sleep...