Winter’s arrival

The experiences of her mission left Alexis in a contemplative mood as she returned to Ostiarium.

Clearly, the higher ups were playing games behind the scenes.

And wasn’t that always the case.
Years of merc life had left her with the understanding that good versus evil only very rarely were at the heart of conflict.
No, what blood was shed over most of the time were the ambitions, desires and interests of those in charge, though she acknowledged that exceptions existed.

Alexis was quite curious how all of this was going to turn out. There was an ample amount of wild cards on the board. Accusations of magic, warnings of witches - she still wondered if Balt’s warning had been about the woman who wished to be called Omen, or if there were even more strange people up and about -, missing expeditions, a mountain warlord that they would do well not to underestimate…

Times were interesting, to say the least.

So it felt a little bizarre when things slowed down due to winter’s tightening grasp.
Settling in the keep would take some getting used to. She could hardly remember a time were she had not been moving across the lands, and she didn’t really know yet if she liked being stationary.

Which was why, despite the poor weather, she welcomed the war exercises as an opportunity to roam a bit and learn the lay of the land, as well as keeping up her training.
She made good use of her time, making some friends among her peers and listening to what they knew of Acardia and its people, even picking up a word or two in the natives’ tongue that they happened to know.

Other than that she made good of her promise and invited Henrik to some drinks in the Drunken Hare, catching up a bit and inquiring how things were going in the streets of Ostiarium.