Raven Negotiation





Farsinger dropped lightly onto the waist-high stone wall, almost landing on Ritter's hand. The wall overlooked a stream valley and the town's water spring. Beyond was the edge of the Dream Wood, the source of many troubles these days.

"I have news," she said to the man as she cocked her head sideways.

"I have ears," Ritter said. He knew that Farsinger's notion of "news" was usually about some shiny thing she had spotted in the town market.

"I saw five brigands just now. They had a Biata with them. It was all tied up like a goose on Yule Day."

Ritter was astounded. This was the most lucid, succinct report he had ever gotten from his friend. He waited for her to revert to normal and start describing the colors of the autumn leaves or some other useless minutiae.

She hopped along the wall and turned away from him. "They are over there." Her beak wagged toward the Dream Wood. "They have built a small cabin. The Biata had blue eyebrow feathers. Black is prettier, though. Yellow is nice too."

There it was, back to normal.

Ritter took off his scarred helm and wiped his brow. The autumn nights were cool, but the days were still too warm this far south. He was pouring inside his thick arming coat and cuirass.

"Well?" Farsinger asked, turning back and cocking her head again. "Shouldn't you go kill them or something?"

"Or something," Ritter said. "You want me to go against five?"

"You'll have me."

"You're no good with a sword." Ritter smiled.

Farsinger hopped on his arm. "Your jokes are not funny. I like your shiny gem." Her black eyes locked on the clan badge welded to his breast plate. A piece of cut moonstone was mounted in the center of the badge.

He ignored her compliment. "Please tell the Master Sergeant I intend to track these brigands and return with information."

"What will you give me?" She was suddenly petulant. By the elders, she was as fickle as a housecat. Or a teenager.

He picked up a rust-red leaf and dangled it before her. "I have many of these," she said. He turned it over, revealing a yellow underside.

Farsinger cooed deep in her throat, "I agree to your terms." She took the leaf and flew back toward the barracks. Maybe she would remember her errand before being seduced by a lady's bracelet.

Ritter donned his helm and strode toward the Dream Wood.

When he was gone, a small figure slipped from behind a tree and followed.





(More about the Biata here: https://alliancelarp.com/races/biata)


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