"We greet the Chief!" Her melodic voice broke him from his stupor, and he hurriedly pulled up her panel.

[Adara Oldflame]

[Age 26]

[Realm: Light Red]

[Soul Spirit Tattoo: The Great Anchor]

"Welcome, Adara! House Osric sees you," he returned the greetings and gave her a moment longer. She had beautiful, deep, dark auburn hair, which was braided in thick, elaborate Nordic-style braids and pinned tightly to her head.

Warm amber eyes to match her hair, and Bramm stared for a moment longer.

Adara tilted her head, a small, knowing smile catching his lingering gaze. She let the silence stretch deliberately before her melodic lilt cut the air.

"My, such a focused appraisal, Chieftain. Tell me, am I being inspected for my martial worth, or are you simply attempting to count every individual strand of my hair? It would be a pity to keep House Osric waiting while you’re so... thoroughly occupied with the scenery. One might almost think the mountain air has made you a touch light-headed—or perhaps you’ve just never seen auburn braids quite so well-behaved?"

Almost falling into a coughing fit, Bramm gathered his thoughts and looked her in the eyes, "We only have a few places for a shield maiden such as yourself to stay, down at the lower end, there are two cabins to your left. Choose one for your personal room. Give the area a look and gain some familiarity with it."

He spoke seriously, trying to hide the embarrassment that hid behind his gaze.

Adara let out a soft, musical chime of laughter, her amber eyes dancing with amusement as she watched Bramm scramble for his composure. She gave a small, mocking curtsy—graceful enough to be polite, yet sharp enough to remind him she saw right through the bluster.

"Two cabins? Such an abundance of riches. I shall endeavor not to get lost in the sheer sprawl of it all. And do not fret, my Lord; I’ve always found that the ’lower end’ provides the most illuminating perspective on a man’s true foundations.

I shall settle in and acquaint myself with your... rugged hospitality. Try to keep your breath steady while I’m away; it would be a dreadfully dull start to our acquaintance if the Chieftain succumbed to a coughing fit simply because the scenery moved to another room. Shall we reconvene once you’ve recovered your gravity?"

She walked away with steady grace, sweet laughter echoing behind her.

’Oh, she’s going to be trouble,’ Bramm nodded in an exasperated sigh. In just a few moments, the woman had him in her hand and playing him like a fiddle, ’better be careful about what I say around that one.’

With a chuckle of amusement, he turned to face the cabin once more, and with a thought, he wanted to summon another hero. He froze.

"Bloody Abyssals! 10,000 Renown?" The hero summon tab had changed from 1,000 renown per summon to 10,000 per summon, a 10x increase. Bramm could only curse with grievance.

With the summoning of the bewitchingly beautiful shieldmaiden, he was left with only a little more than seven thousand renown.

’I’ll hold back for now. Once the others return ill talk with them, see if they are willing to take on subordinates. If not, then I can summon an orange-tier warrior, but I think I’d better take care of this situation. Turning his eyes to the woman standing near the fire area, he could not help but wonder what their days would be like in the near future.

***

Meanwhile, although it was a bit slower than normal, the large group of builders and the warriors of House Osric had reached the city gates just after dark. A group of guards standing near the gates with torches came forward and halted them.

They had to do a routine inspection. And this time things went over smoothly without a hitch. The group then traveled to the lower docks and found the Iron Tankard for the night. The group will rest there whilst the builders disperse to their own lodgings.

"Aye, I’ll take the watch. Stayin’ outside tonight—the walls in this town feel like they’re closin’ in on me anyway. What say you, big man? Care to join me? If you’re parked by the carts, I’m thinkin’ no soul in this place would be brave enough—or stupid enough—to try and nick the materials. We’d be a pair of shadows no one would want to cross, eh?" Keren volunteered and poked Mestin with his elbow.

Mestin stood to the side with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression thoughtful. "Mhmm, just bring me a jug of mead and dinner," the large mountain spoke with a rumble, turned around, and headed for the exit.

"Well, guess it’s you and me for the night, huh?" Resven turned to face Telarin, who had a face of utmost excitement.

"Old Raven! You’ve been keeping all this to yourself, aye?! Shame on ya, not telling me sooner!" The man turned, his expression a mixture of aggrieved and glee.

He slapped Resven on the back and pulled him forward, "Come, come. The night is young, let’s have some fun!" he shouted.

***

The next morning, the sun had risen over the city, and it was already bustling with business, chatter, and laughter by the time the group headed for the market square. The cool morning breeze drifted in the air as the sound of the cars thumped over the cobblestone paths.

"Come now, man, till how late were you up? You look like you’ve been dragged through the mud and chewed on by a crag-cat! Look at the state of ye—eyes like two burnt holes in a blanket! Did the tavern floor prove too comfortable to leave, or did the barmaid’s tales keep ye pinned to the bench?" Keren jumped to Telarin’s side and gave him a once-over. Seeing the state of the man, he continued.

"You’re walkin’ like a newborn calf on ice, Telarin! If we get jumped by a pack o’ lynxes now, I’m leavin’ the one who smells like a brewery and looks like a ghost as the distraction!"