Hatching Crimson

“Lad?”

Looking up, Varis see’s Conrad’s lean frame filling the open door, weathered face shadowed in the firelight. With a sigh, he puts down his quill and crosses to the hearth, nodding to the master scout as he goes. The older man ducks out, returning moments later with a purple-feathered figure, not quite five feet tall but trying hard to be. His large, rounded head is topped with a blue crest and adorned with a worn-looking red headband, and his large, round eyes are bordered with yellow feathers.

“Grandmaster, this is Egg, of the Refuge. Egg, this is Grandmaster Varis Nailo.”

Varis watches the young Aaracokra for a moment, eyes unreadable. Finally he smiles, gesturing for Egg to take one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace.

“So, Egg - Conrad tells me you wish to join the Order?”

“Yes please, Sir Grandmaster!” pipes Egg, apparently straining to stand even taller and more upright than before.

“And you’ve had some training?” Varis shoots a tight smile at Conrad, who has the grace to look somewhat sheepish.

“Yes! I’ve finished all my lessons at the School and Mister Allenby gave me a diploma, and he taught me dragonchess too, and Master Archer taught me to use a bow, and Zu– uh… Mister Fernbrand taught me some flying and mellay combat, and when we were in K’ul Goran Miraaka of the Errant Guard taught me fly and shoot at the same time and taught me tactics, and Miz Mishrak has shown me some things with swords, and Miss Mayben taught me to make my own arrows and other things out of wood and I work for Mister Heidan sometimes now doing that and he shows me techniques as well.” Egg pauses, apparently feeling that the word “techniques” has rounded off his list of qualifications very satisfactorily, before suddenly adding, “Oh and Quartermaster taught me to make porridge. And bean stew.”

Varis waits a moment to make sure there’s no more. There doesn’t seem to be.

“I am on friendly terms with Sergeant Grimes of the Daring City Watch - I think he would be delighted to have such a skilled young man. You know him, no doubt, from your time at the Refuge?”

Egg seems confused. “Yes, sir. Is he a member of the Order too?”

Varis eyes flick to Conrad, then back to Egg.

“No, he’s not. Egg, you seem a gifted and determined young man, but the Order does not recruit from Thia’s Refuge. Ever.”

“I - I don't live at the Refuge any more, sir. I'm an adult now and Mister Allenby said it was time for me to move on. I live at the Three-headed Dragon. Like you and Master at Arms used to, sir!”

“But you were raised there - you are a child of the Refuge, and you always will be. There are political considerations here, Egg-”

“Lad?” Conrad’s voice cuts across Varis. The pale half-elf looks somewhat bemused, but gestures for the master scout to speak.
“Seems to me that if the kid wants to serve his community, we shouldn’t be standing in the way of that. You’re right there needs to be distance, but maybe if he spent some time out there helping folk on his own first, then he wouldn’t be so much a Thia’s kid as just another adventurer?”

“People have long memories, Conrad.”

The older man smiles.

“No lad, you have a long memory. Give the kid six months as a rat catcher. If he still wants in, he can come scout for me - I can always use a sharp pair of eyes.”

He throws Egg an avuncular wink.

Varis is silent for a while, then he looks down at the little Aarakocra.

“Very well. Come to us at Midsummer, Egg, and we will speak again. Until then, you must serve the people, help those in need. Think of yourself as the Squire to the Dawnlands.”

At this, Egg’s troubled look changes to one of excitement and determination, his feathers puffing up and his tilted head straightening.

“Yes, sir!” he chirps. “Thank you, sir! I promise to serve well, sir.”

His large eyes flick back and forth between the two officers, checking whether he’s saying the right thing, whether there’s anything else he ought to do now. Taking his cue, Conrad ushers Egg from the room with a warm smile, leaving Varis staring thoughtfully into the fire and hearing, beyond the closed door, receding footsteps and a faint voice asking:

“Master Conrad sir… do Squires of the Dawnlands get a badge?”