Ashes

To say Lisbeth wasn't expecting the tavern to be empty when she walked in, was an understatement. Taverns were always filled with bands, and staggering drunks. The only one within this one, however, was the bar keeper, a grizzled man that neither sister cared to learn the name of. The Rhasse sisters sat at a table in the corner, positioned so they could see the door. The prophet, after being sought out again, had led them here. And vanished. Something about, "gathering the others" and, "gathering *her*."

The barkeep placed two mugs of ale in front of them, nodding quietly. "It's all been paid for. Order as much as you want." Joanna looked to Lisbeth, who'd merely shrugged. 

The door slammed open, a young, fiery haired woman stomping through. Her face was scarred, and she brought with her the smell of blood and the ocean. A pirate. Joanna narrowed her eyes, inspecting the pirate closely. She nudged her sister. "It's Lull," she murmured, fearful. 

"What is she doing here? We're not in a port." The barkeep led the pirate queen to their table, and set a mug of ale in front of her chair. Lull sat down heavily, huffing a sigh. Her muscled arms rested on the back of her chair, her legs spread in an attempt at showing dominance. Lisbeth looked her in the eyes, trying to crack her.

Lull met her stare, and smirked. "You're the Bloody Guard," she said. "There's rumors about you in every port."

"And you're the self appointed queen of pirates. We're all afraid of you. You brought piracy back to Struya. Our merchants aren't safe." Lisbeth narrowed her eyes accusingly. Joanna messed with a dagger hidden in the folds of her skirt in anticipation.

Lull stared at Lisbeth for a second, before breaking into boisterous laughter. A tear slipped down her face, and she wiped it away, smiling widely. "How kind of you to thank me for my father's work. Is that what they tell you inland?"

Lisbeth sat back, smiling softly. "Aye. It's an honor to meet you."

Lull nodded at Joanna. "And who's the noble?"

"A friend-"

"My sister."

Both sisters spoke at the same time, Joanna sliding a quick, warning glare at her twin. Lisbeth ignored it. "She's the brains, I'm the brawn."

"You were both selected as champions, then?"

"Just Lisbeth." Joanna picked up her mug as she spoke, taking a sip, and spitting it out. "I'd like to offer my services, however." Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "I'll see if the barman has wine."

"Pussy!" Lisbeth yelled after the retreating form of her sister. "She's been spoiled on the king's stash," she whispered to Lull. "Problems of being the royal advisor."

. . .

The barkeep, did not, in fact, possess a decent wine. So Joanna settled for the watery ale, sighing in disgust. The assassin and the pirate had clicked immediately, laughing and joking. The door creaked open again, a cloaked figure stepping in. Slender, yet rough, hands pushed the hood back, bark brown hair falling in matted waves around her shoulders. Forest green eyes swept the room, before settling on their table. 

Joanna nudged Lisbeth, who froze. Their friend had returned. Joanna stood up, welcoming Branwen with open arms to the small circle. Branwen, after a moment's hesitation, returned the hug. She was stronger now, and Joanna could feel the sword, kept hidden by the cloak. She stepped back, hand on the druid's face. "You've grown up," she said softly. "And so tired."

"Time will do that." Branwen's voice had grown hoarse, too. "I've heard you've moved up in the world."

"Just the royal advisor, nothing fancy." She laughed, pulling a chair towards the table. "Come, come! Sit with us."

Branwen cracked a crooked smile, taking her seat at the table. The conversation was slipped into, easily. Who were they? What their stories were. And it seemed all of them had many stories to tell. 

Not that they'd get a chance tonight. The door creaked open quickly, and the lights dimmed. 

. . .

The woman stalked towards their table as if the four of them were her prey, and she was a starved stray. The colors of Death covered her body, and she would have appeared to be a diciple, had it not have been for the brightness of her eyes. Electric gold. She pulled her own chair behind her, grabbing it from the nearest table, and turned it so the back was facing the group. Then, she sat down, backwards in the chair to look at the four of them. "I see one extra," she chided. "One I didn't choose."

The four of them looked to each other. The hair on the backs of their necks rose in alarm. This woman, wearing leather gloves and armor, eyes sharply looking through each of them, one by one, tapped her finger. Joanna racked her brain for some name to suit the description, and the only one that settled, that fit, was Qres.

The goddess herself had come to sit at their table. The advisor bowed her head. "It's me, m'lady."

Qres sighed, tiredly. "Should have known. Where your sister goes, you'll follow." She reached into her cloak, withdrawing a map. "You're here now. Perhaps we could use your…expertise."

"Perhaps." Joanna kept her gaze down, nervously messing with her skirts. "I offer my services."

"Hm." Qres looked away from Joanna, turning to Lisbeth next, then Lull, then Branwen. "We're all here then. Shall we begin?"