It's your own fault, you know.

[Allen]

Allen blinked a couple times, very much in shock. The sudden agreement had definitely stunned and confused the dwarf.

"Err... don't you need to talk to at least Morilyn? Maybe even family? An' before we even take another step, I wanna know yer name, lad. M'name's Allen, Allen Diamondheart." Allen stretched out a sturdy arm, strong hand open and waiting to see if the skinny as shit lad would shake his hand.

The sudden agreement concerned Allen now. Why was he so keen to go to Marn? Didn't have any ties here? Anything at all he'd miss? Something told the dwarf he didn't, but that didn't stop him from questioning the boy's sudden "yes".

[Chesslin]

Chesslin stepped across the shop to take Allen's hand in his. They contrasted sharply - though calloused from digging and cutting and working through every day, his hands were still young and remarkably soft, and the skin smooth. There was a vast difference between the wear of working the fields and the wear of folding squares of cloth around little packets of herbs. He shook Allen's hand lightly, his grip firm but in no way threatening. Chesslin understood the importance of balance.

"My name is Chesslin Camere," he told Allen steadily, meeting the dwarf's eyes with the same lack of hesitation so uncharacteristic of his age group. He did not step back or let go until the dwarf did. "I'm afraid I don't have much of a family. Only my brother and me. If you would like to talk to him...?" Chesslin shrugged slightly, leaving the offer open, though he secretly disapproved. What Ulvir had to say would have no bearing on his choice, in the end. He was never going to make anything of himself here in Shim. If Chesslin wanted to be better, if Chesslin wanted power, he was going to have to make it to Marn eventually. He was willing to go there alone to do it, and Ulvir knew that, better than anyone else.

[Allen]

Soft girl hands, gah this felt like going to meet a potential lass's parents. But Changers, he had to talk to the family. Family worried and cared, and the least Allen could do was reassure the family, even if it was just a brother, was that Chesslin would be taken care of. He could see the disapproval, however minute and vague it was, but it was there and the lad would just have to suck it the fuck up.

"Aye, just to at least make sure the lad doesn't worry about ye. Weird thing about family, they're the only one you get at birth, so they're the ones you should keep closest and yet most don't." Allen mused as he turned to talk out the door. Another question for him to ponder, the dwarf realized, was why the hell he was being do damn open with the girly lad. Maybe it was because he was so young? So girly? Allen shook his head fervently. He was not about to touch that subject.

He turned to see if the lad was going to follow or if Allen was going to have to do more convincing, when he noticed the mouse again.

"So what's the rodent's name? Squeakers?"

[Chesslin]

Chesslin followed Allen closely as the dwarf slipped off the chair and headed for the door. He reached up behind his neck, weaving his fingers through his hair until they came in contact with the silken fur of his rodent companion. Plucking the dormouse off of its perch, Chess returned it to his left hand, letting it use his long fingers like a ladder. Its tiny claws tickled against his skin.

The dwarf's question took him by surprise, and he only got around to answering it as they stepped out of the quiet of the apothecary's shop. He closed the door behind him, locked it and pocketed the key, before he finally turned back to Allen.

"I never gave him one," Chess admitted. It had never occurred to him to name the dormouse. Certainly there were some emotional attachments there, but in the end the rodent was more a tool than a pet. Something to practice his magic on, something he would only barely mourn when it came to the end of its life.

Turning into the afternoon sunlight, Chesslin stepped ahead of the dwarf. He lead the way down the street, towards the outskirts of town. They passed other villagers on the way, but none of them paused to meet Chesslin's eyes, and he made no attempts to connect with any of them. It reminded him of the way a horse walked amongst a flock of sheep in the grazing fields - he did not step on them, mostly because he did not seem to realize they were there.

Chess took Allen all the way across the village, to a run-down section of town where the poorer farmers collected. Orphaned and supporting themselves, Chess and Ulvir definitely fell under the classification of 'poor.' He took the dwarf to the rickety fence bordering his own yard. Beyond, a simple wooden hut stood at the center of what seemed to be one massive garden. Chesslin's garden. That was the only thing he would regret leaving behind. Opening the gate, he beckoned Allen in onto the rough stone path.

"Don't step on the plants," he ordered, giving Allen a cautionary look. It was easier said than done. Many of the plants grew out over the path, and some rose to the height of the dwarf's shoulders. Still, Chesslin would tolerate only minimal damage to the living things he had put so much hard work into raising. He was going to have to charge his brother with protecting the plants.

Reaching the front door, Chesslin opened it with a shove, revealing an undecorated interior built almost entirely of wood which had probably been torn off of some other building. The central room was empty, but for a low table and an empty hearth. A door at the back lead through into the bedroom that the brothers shared.

It was through that door that Ulvir came at the sound of Chesslin's entrance, a broad and curious grin on his face. He was much larger than Chesslin, hulking and strong from long hours behind the hoe, with cropped hair in the same plain brown as Chess's. There would have been little relation between the brothers aside from their hair color, but Ulvir's eyes were also the same, icy blue and bright with cheer if not with Chesslin's overwhelming curiosity.

"Chess," he called in a carrying voice. Chesslin winced. His brother was too accustomed to shouting at hands in the fields - he had lost the use of his inside voice. Ulvir closed in rapidly, went to embrace Chesslin, but Chess ducked quickly out of the way and walked across the room.

"I'm going to Marn," he announced in the same soft, matter-of-fact voice he used to sell herbs at Morilyn's apothecary. Ulvir stopped dead in his tracks, staring at his little brother's back with confusion.

"Marn?" Ulvir repeated, and Chesslin gave a short, exasperated sigh.

"Yes, brother," he agreed shortly. "Marn. The city across the river."

[Allen]

Allen followed the boy, musing about the mouse. Everything deserved a name, it gave it meaning and purpose. He followed him across Shim, and down to a broken-down farm. It was obvious whoever worked it, worked it with a great deal of pride and love, the signs of a true man. Allen was impressed with the garden as well. He wasn't into such feminine things, but that didn't mean it didn't spark the artist in him.

Allen was just managing to get through the jungle-like garden when he heard the booming voice. He couldn't stop the grin that crossed his face, the grin of a proud man about to meet another strong man. He strode through the door, watching mousey Chesslin avoid his brothers embrace with what looked like the ease of practice. Allen crossed his arms and watched the two interact, frowning at how cold the younger seemed. Certainly he could be that withdrawn with Allen, but with his own brother? Something about that didn't sit right with the dwarf. He shook it off and moved forward, hand outstretched.

"I'm Allen, Allen Diamondheart. The lad 'ere mentioned he wanted to broaden his horizons, check out the big city, ye know. I have a shop I could use Chess's help with, I'd be paying him with room, clothes and food, maybe even coin if he proves to be exceptional." Allen really wasn't used to talking so damn formally, but it was called for in this situation. He puffed out his chest slightly.

"I promise to look after yer younger brother, I swear on my dwarvin honor."

[Chesslin]

Ulvir moved to follow Chesslin to the other side of the room, but he was distracted by the powerful voice of a dwarf rolling over his front stoop. Ulvir blinked in surprise at the sight of Allen - he had been so focused on the cold shoulder of his little brother, he had not noticed the presence of a guest. He forgot Chesslin in favor of fixing that mistake.

"Ulvir Camere," he introduced himself with a cheerful grin. He took the dwarf's extended hand in his own, shaking firmly. "Good to have you here."

Chesslin, standing in the far corner, could not suppress a small smirk at the sight. His brother nearly six feet tall, the dwarf hardly coming up to his chest, there was something simply comedic about this entire situation.

The greetings complete, Ulvir turned once again to look at his little brother. Chesslin met his eyes, absentmindedly twirling his fingers while his dormouse wove between them, a little game to keep the rodent busy and expend some of Chesslin's extra energy. Chess quirked an eyebrow, questioning and somehow unforgiving.

"Chess," Ulvir started, and Chesslin's eyes seemed to sharpen. "Why would you want to-?"

"Just because you've always wanted to be a farmer does not mean I want to spend the rest of my life as an herbalist, Ulvir," Chesslin interrupted him crisply. "I'm not asking. I'm going to Marn."

[Allen]

Allen grinned back, already liking this manly man. Tall as fuck too, Allen had to crane his head to look him in the eye. Bloody leggy humans... Allen tilted his head, listening to Chess talk to his brother almost coldly. Why though? Allen frowned inwardly as he moved to make sure he wouldn't get between the brothers. Instead, he leaned against the wall, just under a window, and watched.

[Chesslin]

There was silence, for a moment, Chesslin watching Ulvir through very direct eyes and Ulvir struggling to come to terms with what he was being told. Chesslin's unquestioning tone meant one thing to Ulvir. He knew that his little brother was more than capable of running off on his own, and more than willing to do so. Once, Chesslin had been quite content as an herbalist. Ulvir did not know when or where this sudden desire to go to Marn had emerged, but this had not been Chesslin's first attempt, and it would not be his last. Ulvir would rather Chess leave with the sturdy dwarf, who Chess seemed to trust, than strike out on his own with no one for company but that silly little mouse.

Heaving a sigh, Ulvir gave his little brother a sad smile.

"Alright," he gave in. Chesslin's lips twitched into a tiny, satisfied smile. "Fine. But you have to stay in contact."

"Done," Chesslin agreed, waving it off as nothing. He turned quickly to Allen, setting his mouse back on his shoulders. The rodent scampered to hide in the waves of his brown hair. "When do we leave?" Eagerness flowed out of every inch of Chesslin's body, now that the confrontation with his elder brother had passed. He was already making lists in his head of what he was going to need.

[Allen]

Allen raised an eyebrow before managing a manly nod of empathy at the older human.

"Whenever you and string-tail are ready. I'll wait in the Chalice, we'll head out when you meet me there." And with that, off he went to the Chalice to order himself some booze, squeeze the barmaids tits and be the rugged, manly, handsome dwarf he knew he was.

[Chesslin]

Chesslin retreated to his room, and Ulvir did not see him again for the rest of the afternoon. He packed in silence, folding up the few sets of clothes he owned and stuffing them away into an ancient burlap pack. The bag had not been used since his father's younger days, when the man had traveled frequently. He stowed his dormouse away in a spare wicker basket and settled him inside the knapsack's side pocket, adding a handful of seeds in the basket to keep the creature quiet. That done, he added a few handfuls of herb packets from his own garden, his mother's locket, his knife. Then he stopped, realizing that was pretty much all he owned.

Hoisting the strap across his thin shoulder, Chesslin stepped out of his room. He could see through the gaping front door that the sun was beginning its descent. He wondered if he and Allen would make it to Marn before dark. He wondered if he really cared. Either way, the trek would be an adventure for Chesslin, and his heart was already thrumming with excitement.

He bid his brother a stiff, icy goodbye at the door, permitting a hug only because Ulvir would probably not see him face to face for many months. He could not have his brother chasing after him to get that farewell hug. As soon as he got his chance, though, Chesslin slipped through the door and walked away. He did not once look back.

The Chalice was not entirely a familiar scene, for Chesslin. Barmaids and drinking clouded the mind, left a man muddled, and Chesslin detested all states of confusion. Beyond that, he had never understood how anyone could stand the noise, the acrid scent, or the quality of the food. Chesslin did not much like food, anyway. Still, Chess stepped through the tavern's front door without hesitating, and scanned the crowds of drunks and flaunting barmaids for his new dwarven friend.

[Allen]

Allen had spotted the boy enter the bar from underneath a barmaid's tiny skirt. How he managed to see past the cleavage was entirely beyond him, but hell, a diamond's call is a hell of a thing. Quickly he paid for his drinks and happily strode up to the boy.

"Alrighty then lad, let's get a move on." Allen's voice was more gruff than usual from the alcohol and (if he was being honest) slight arousal. Damn that barmaid had a nice rack... He easily led the boy through the town, pausing at the fringe of the wood. He looked to Chess to see if the boy showed any signs of hesitation. When all he saw was the excited glow of someone about to try something new, Allen chuckled and led the way.

Darkness fell quickly, but in his mostly uninhibited state, Allen had no trouble trekking the terrain, taking care to warn his taller friend of low hanging branches. The path wasn't a new one by any means, but still, the roots and that made for nasty traps, so he warned Chess of those too. Nights of trekking during the evening, of hiding in caves, of being in the dark when he lost track of time, have given him an interesting ability to see in the dark, kind of. That or it was a dwarven trait. Either way, it worked.

It was pretty dark and both travelers were tired when Allen let Chess into his home. It was modest enough. Simple wooden furniture adorned the living room, all small enough that he'd be comfortable and sturdy enough he could just collapse into it. Some pieces, such as a handful of chairs and a table were taller, built more for his leggy customers.

"Sorry 'bout the mess." Allen gruffed out, gesturing to the pieces of art lying on just about every flat surface. "Wasn't plannin' on bringing home company." He barked out a bit of laughter before leading the boy to his guest room. It was a simple room, containing a lower-than-normal bed with a step-stool tucked underneath, a desk and table of normal human height, a wardrobe and a side-table.

"Not the greatest room, but it's got potential to make it yours." He gruffed out, turning to look up at the boy to see his reactions. "Whatcha think boy?"

[Chesslin]

Chesslin had wandered through the woods enough times as a boy that he managed to escape them without incident. He tripped on a few of the larger roots, and ran into a branch at one point that he was just barely too tall to fit under, but he survived it without lasting injury. The trek through the forest was not what interested Chesslin, so he put it out of his mind as soon as it was over. His interest came with the approach of the flickering lights of the city at night.

In the deep shadows of the rising moon, Chesslin could not see much of Marn, but even as they passed over the boundary he knew it was larger and more complex than he could ever have imagined. Just by the network of brilliant, electric lights, he knew that. Chesslin had never lived with electric lighting. He had dreamed of it, fascinated by the technology, but how could they ever afford it when they could scarcely afford new winter clothes each year?

Chess was so busy staring as they walked the broad, cobbled streets, between buildings that towered a full floor over any of the buildings within the little farming town where he had grown up, he did not realize when they reached Allen's house. He felt just a little bit overwhelmed by the immensity of it all. The sights, what little of them he could see, had begun to make him tired. Still, he took in everything that he could as they climbed up to the door of Allen's house and entered.

It was simple, of course, but still far fancier than the hut where Chesslin had been raised. Allen apologized for the mess, but Chesslin could hardly have been bothered with it. The paintings themselves were beautiful things, and excitement made the whole place shine with a glory akin to the feeling of his own magic. A smile found its way unexpectedly onto his face while Allen lead him around, an expression that stayed fixed in place when the dwarf took him to what would, from now on, be his room.

This was another unfamiliar bonus. Chesslin had slept in a room with Ulvir since he was an infant. His elder brother had cared for him, fed him, bathed him, burped him, and never stopped coddling him a day in Chesslin's nineteen years. Escaping that smothering affection was nothing short of a miracle. While this room, with its simple furnishings, was not the room of a prince, it was the space of Chesslin's dreams.

Still smiling, he turned to look at Allen.

"It's perfect," he answered, swinging his knapsack from his shoulder and setting it on the floor by the door. It was all he'd brought with him. Three sets of ratty farm clothes, a pet mouse, some herbs, and some metal trinkets. Still, in that moment, Chesslin felt like he owned the world.

[Allen]

Allen grinned, reached up and patted the middle of Chess's back (the highest point he could reach) and toddled out of the room. "Get a good night's sleep lad, we've got a day of shopping ahead of us tomorrow." He called back to the boy, not turning around because in all honesty, he was tearing up a bit. He managed to make it into his room before the one tear slid down his bearded face, past the biggest smile that dwarf has ever worn. Why? Because when he'd looked up at that serious face and saw the biggest smile he'd ever seen on such a serious boy, it lit up that thing called his heart brighter than one of those gnome-blasted street lights.

He stripped quickly and crawled into his bed, quietly chuckling as he wondered how the boy would handle the crowded streets of Marn. He'd seen the almost slack-jawed and starry eyed looks the boy had as they had ghosted deeper into the large city. Allen rolled over with a chuckle. Looks like he'd have to find his ball of twine.

He woke up early, earlier than he usually did. Earlier than Chess even it seemed. He dressed easily, plodding into the kitchen, yawning, as he set the kettle. He wasn't much of a tea drinker, but coffee was good sometimes. Stuff was expensive as hell though. Settling for tea, the dwarf pulled it down and made a pot. He pulled out a couple mugs and got down to making his ideal breakfast - mildly spiced oats.

[Chesslin]

Chesslin remained right where he was for several moments after the dwarf had gone, before he finally came back to his senses. He was here. He was really here, in Marn. Tomorrow Allen would show him the town. And after that? After that he would begin his search for the underground world of his people. He had to learn. Anything and everything that he could.

Spinning on his heel, he pulled his dormouse's basket out of the knapsack and set it up on the dresser. He found a packet of seed and emptied it into the basket, just in case his pet needed food in the middle of the night. Then, he stripped himself of his dirty farm clothes and collapsed on the bed, simply too tired to even try to process everything that had happened that night.

The next morning dawned long before Chesslin's body was ready to wake up. He roused himself later than he thought he had ever woken on the farm, though still in the early morning, and it felt like nothing short of pure bliss. Sleeping in, if only for an hour or two, was new. Everything was new.

Yawning, Chesslin dressed himself in a plain gray tunic and a pair of black breeches, tied the tunic around his strikingly thin waist with a length of rope, and collected the dormouse from his basket. He jerked his fingers through his brown hair a couple of times, forcing it into order, and then hurried back out into the house he could now call his own. He found Allen already awake and working in the kitchen. Chesslin kept quiet, slipping into the room on silent feet.

"Good morning," he murmured only after he had stepped up to stand beside the table.

[Allen]

Allen was pretty positive his heart stopped for about a second when the boy's quiet voice shattered the peaceful silence. Either way he still jumped and almost spilled tea on himself. Jittery, he set the cup down and patted his chest.

"Changers lad, dun do tha' to me, I'm not as spry as I used to be." He gasped, before managing to catch his breath. Shaking himself he looked to the lad and looked at him, feeling almost amused. "Want some breakfast lad? You'll need the strength if you want to last a day in Marn." He began to pull down another wooden bowl for the cooked oats anyways, figuring the boy'd likely refuse unless some form of action was already started. He turned away, to the stove, when the kettle began to shrill.

"So how'd you sleep?"