Reevaluation

To tell the stories of old is to sing the legacies of legends and humble folk, of man, guardian, and Ki across this great land of Racë. This story speaks of the curly-haired and bright-eyed Rosemary Bagworth, she who has never rested long enough to call one place home, and her meeting with coal-bearded and quick-minded Dugward Stonefeet, he who was yet to wander the world.

The inn smelled like she’d never been away. Dem’nev was a simple village, and she had walked into one of the many inns that littered the area. The King Estes Inn was a favourite of her friends, and one of the many reasons for this was in full swing. People sat at round tables, intensely focused on the sheets of parchment in front of them, at least one person who could read and write at each table to keep score. Friday night was quiz night, and Bagworth had made it back just in time.

She shifted the pack on her back as she scanned the crowd for a group of four or five people, her friends, her party. She found them in a corner. Her elder brother, Olville, headed the party, dressed in his customary blue tunic and confidence, though not a member of the adventuring group, he often joined them when they were in Dem’nev. Eleanor Gamlin, her best friend, was sat fiddling with a leather band, she hadn’t seen Bagworth yet. Bagworth smiled mischievously, wondering if she could sneak up on them, that was until Ewan saw her, the apothecary’s apprentice was the one with quill and parchment, he waved, pointed Bagworth out to the others.

There was a fourth person, someone that Bagworth felt she had met before. He bore the likeness of a V’tixi miner, V’tixi being the nearest town to Dem’nev. Its people were notoriously short and hardy folk. He was sat between Olville and Evan. He had followed Evan’s pointing and stared unblinkingly, until he leant over the Evans, presumably to ask who she was.

“Excuse me, Miss Bagworth,” It was the inn keeper, Suyut, who had spoken, a quiet-spoken but authoritative man, rumour had it he had once been a royal butler, “It’s wonderful to see you again, but if you could make your way to a team, then we can continue the quiz,” Of course, it was a Friday. Quiz night.

Bagworth smiled and ducked her way over to the table, as Gamlin waved her over. She sat next to her slender friend with the beauty of a Guardian. Bagworth couldn’t reach the floor from her spot on the bench. Gamlin hugged her.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you again!” She exclaimed, “I’ve been stuck with a bunch of boys, it’s nice to see another girl. Why did you have to go?”

“It was only six months. They needed a helping hand around the church, how could I refuse?” She nodded towards Zock, “Good to see you again,” Zock nodded back.

“Glad you got back safe,”

“Ssshhh, the quiz is starting,”

“Good to see you too, Olville,”

“We’re one of the last teams left, if we lose, I’m blaming you” Olville was as friendly as ever, but Bagworth zoned in on the quiz. Question by question was read out by Suyut, and every answer was attributed to the answerer’s team, and Bagworth was getting more and more competitive. Not against the other teams, no, against that stranger on their team. His hand carried on going up a millisecond before hers, and Bagworth swore that when they tied, Suyut would pick on the stranger, apparently named Stonefeet, instead of her. Well, she would show him.

On the last question, there was really no way to tell whose hand had raised first, Stonefeet’s or Bagworth’s. In a normal situation, Bagworth would let the other person answer instead, when they’re her friend, or acquaintance, or when they haven’t beaten her to the answer several times already. Stonefeet was none of those things. He seemed to realise that she was not going to back down and surrendered. Bagworth answered the last question of the quiz correctly, and in her mind. She had won. Stonefeet didn’t look crushed.

In fact, Stonefeet didn’t look like he’d been aware of the competition at all. Thinking about it, Bagworth realised that he had just been having fun, and not, as she had thought, trying to destroy her at the quiz.

The other three got to celebrating their win, Olville going to get some drinks, with the others calling out orders behind him. Bagworth shuffled down the bench, so that she was sat across from Stonefeet. She reached out her hand.]

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Bagworth.”]

“Stonefeet. It’s nice to meet you,”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Bagworth didn’t know how to follow up. Her script didn’t extend beyond the greeting. She always hoped the other person would ask a question and was usually right. Her hand was still stretched out across the table. She waved it slightly, “Handshake?” She proffered, Stonefeet took her hand. It was a firm handshake, good. She trusted him. She trusted people with a firm handshake. She did start to smile though, when the handshake continued.

And continued.

And continued.

Usually, Bagworth would be mortified. She never knew when to end handshakes, or hugs, or any form of physical contact really, however instead of also appearing mortified, Stonefeet was also starting to grin. The handshake continued. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gamlin shake her head. She had a sixth sense when it came to antics. She also had a sixth sense for when Bagworth didn’t know how to proceed.

“Bagworth’s one of our party,” she said. Bagworth took that as her cue to stop the handshake, “Stonefeet’s an old friend of Zock and I, he’s also a follower of the Run’anor,”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Bagworth said

“You’ve already said that,”

"Indeed, I have,” Bagworth cast around for something to say, her hand laying to rest on her quiver. Someone in V’tixi had told her she’d never befriend anyone by beginning with her love of archery. Now was as good as any a time to test that theory, “I shoot a longbow,” Stonefeet’s blue eyes lit up with recognition.

“Go on,”

“I warn you, I’m a rambler,”

“Good,”