Lora watched the wizard speak, a warm smile curving her lips as he did to some length. When he finishes, she leans into his arm, nuzzling into him. Another thing this adventure has taught her is to truly care about others. Well three others. And one even more "Of course, but it is Our journey, I thought, unless you have reconsidered?" she slipped her hand into his, fingers interlacing, still all fluttery inside that anyone would what to introduce her to their mother. Of all the things that people had wanted out of her, this...
"Bly'gha" she ended her question with his name, said with perfect punctuation.
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Royken scowls furiously as the Grand Duchess unveils the statue of the four of them. The cheering crowds might as well have been shieldmarshals throwing them in prison for as happy as he sees. Afterward, he glowers as he watches Lora lap up the attention. His attention shifts to some idiot coming up to talk to him. "No!" he barks before the man can get more than a word out. As if he'd want to talk to him.
The next days and weeks aren't even better. "No." "No." "F#$@, no," he constantly growls as people come up to fawn over him. F%+&, he can't even get work. He reaches out to Crystal Crownsilver to see if she's willing to set something up -- she managed to get out from under the duchess' thumb, somehow -- but even that ends up turning up s*~~. They had a good plan, a way to get some nice gold ... and the f%##ing twits decided that he should just have the f++$ing gold when he pulled a gun on them. Like he was some f!%*ing grandpa who needed his charity. F#!@, no! He wanted to rob them, the way he'd grown up doing. Turns out Foebe f!#$ing Dunsmith had put out the word too. The shieldmarshals weren't to f!~& with him. They just let him walk away. He'd gone and yelled at her ... and she'd just laughed. What the f+#$ was a good, honest con supposed to do?
Living in the city was becoming impossible. Royken sat and stewed for a while, and finally screwed up his courage. Only one f##+ing thing to do. It was time to get out of here! He arranged a meet, with Lora -- no, not anywhere that anyone would f$%@ing recognize them. This wasn't f!@%ing easy, and wasn't anything he needed blabbed around the f@%@ing city for every f$&&ing one to f%#!ing know...
A few days later, a burly dwarf rides out of town. His black hair -- showing just a touch of silver -- is cropped close, as is his beard. His plate mail is packed away, though the massive scattergun attached to the back is still enough of a threat for anyone who doesn't recognize his face. He's not lucky enough that no one does, though. If they had, maybe they'd have tried something and he could have gotten a workout. But f+@@ no...
He leaves Alkenstar. He thought about heading for Highhelm -- his niece is there, and it sounds like it's not awful, a place a proper con could earn some nice gold -- but ... something's keeping him close. He tries to figure out what as he gets close to the ranch outside town. "Droskar's dick!"[/b] he curses as he dismounts and goes to knock on the door. He glowers as the dwarven woman who caused so much trouble for him finally answers. F$#*, he'd thought with his luck she might not be home, but no getting away from this.
"Fancy a f!+$ing drink?" he asks Foebe.
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And thus, the tale of the Outlaws of Alkenstar has reached its conclusion!