Shadows over Nothross | Page 4

to them, they were, above all, friends and brothers in arms, not really mere business partners - there were plenty of groups in the city, after all, that did this sort of jobs just for money. But they didn't let the arrival of formality and finances to hamper their friendship, and that was all that mattered.
They were already bound in the way they did things; now they just had a legal name to their operation. Or, as it happened, lack of name, which clearly annoyed the filing clerk who rather hoped all mercenary bands had invented some business name for themselves, which made the life of filing clerks much easier in general. Jenyr never really came up with a name for the company, and the others weren't really good sources of suggestions, and preferred not to pick a name in any case. Everyone else called it "Jenyr's Company", which Jenyr himself resented - after all, he never participated in anything that happened outside of the city - that was most of the cases - and secondly, and most importantly, he already had a pay job at the City Guard.
At least incorporation allowed them to advertise their services as "a crown-sanctioned swords-for-hire enterprise", which was better than the services who advertised themselves as "a bunch of ruffians who do anything messy for a few ducats". They never needed to really advertise their services or anything - Faira was certain that every time she poked her nose outside of the house, someone would be offering them a job. She even had, when going to the Laughing Fox to have lunch, the habit of saying "I'm sorry, people, our books are full for the next four months" before she slumped on her usual chair. That comment either made a number of people walk back to their seats disappointedly, or, very rarely made the other patrons to look around and wonder whom she was addressing.
At Wilhelmsroad 20, a nice house with a nonchalant plaque at the door reading "Adventurers for hire", a conversation was taking place. Even when they were busy with a lot of projects, Faira was happy that Facyr brought the job right in the house, and introduced the two gentle elves to his two friends. They were discussing around the fireplace, with morning rain slapping the windows. Facyr was happy to have gotten home just in time; undoubtedly, Jenyr was now either getting wet or cursing under some eaves somewhere, trying futilely to get his pipe lit.
Facyr listened to the Valntathalen family's tale. He came to the conclusion that Valntathalens weren't particularly fond of all of the formality; the little bits he knew of elves seemed to say the fairer folk didn't care much of formalities, anyway, at least not the kind of formalities humans seemed to love. To them, it seemed, style and royal grace were in their natures, while the pomp around human royalty always seemed somehow constructed and artificial under the surface.
Even when Aleln Valntathalen was a distant relative to the reigning King of Furinel and was responsible for running things in one quarter of the kingdom, it was difficult to tell what made him so royal in first place. Aleln Valntathalen was more of an explorer. He was a lord of frontier lands. In the middle of the mountain woods with lots of monsters everywhere, practicalities went ahead of formalities. Facyr had seen the same thing in humans before, when dealing with frontier lords of his land of birth, Grycia. Facyr found Aleln to be a quite relaxed person, yet he showed tact, sensibility, manners and quite a bit of refinement. Aleln came across as a friendly, sensible fellow who could lead people if the occasion needed - somewhat unlike of his colourful, sometimes brash and vulgar human counterparts of office, who merely could lead the people because everyone saw they had been handed the biggest axes.
"I thought the northern frontier had no duke any more", Gnedrnygr Adithebadoggr said. He was an old man, but like most magicians of Colemian descent, his body was magically preserved and he looked not much different from middle-aged people of Varmhjelm, apart of being slightly smaller stature and of more stockier build. His mind was still youthfully energetic and brilliant as ever. He sat by a window and listened to the discussion, putting half of his attention to that and the other half to reading a tome describing the history of the Duchy of Nothross. He puffed smoke from his pipe, and the smoke drifted off to the rain outside through a big crack in one of the window panes.
Aleln shoot his head. "I'm merely a duke in exile. City of Nothross was overrun by monsters mere two years ago - do you think everything we stood for fell with it?