#khamri

If entering premises unlawfully wasn’t such a thrill, Khamri wouldn’t be half as good a thief as he is these days. Sure, things as “not starving” and “obeying the guild masters” factor into it as well - he isn’t stupid; he knows what his survival is contingent on. (Despite popular belief, there is a reason he is so blasé about money - he doesn’t per se need any as long as he obeys. The guild takes care of their own: As long as he makes their fees and tariffs, trading on their influence is just about expected.)

Still, there is a certain excitement in planning and executing a heist. These days, he largely gets it from getting into place he shouldn’t be in either, but is unlikely to get into trouble with the law over - mouldy tombs and crumbling ruins out somewhere in the wilderness are seldom policed by the current powers that be. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t find himself eyeing badly protected warehouses or unoccupied houses in the better parts of town though, a familiar sensation of danger and surety running down his spine. Simple locks don’t hold a challenge for him anymore and neither do tired guards just slogging through or homeowners sleeping the dead slumber of exhausted workers. (Besides, he’d feel awful for taking money, goods or papers someone actually needs. People with more wealth than they know what to do with? Eh.)

He’s good at this. Khamri knows full well that there aren’t that many thieves in Neverwinter that rival his skill with a lockpick - there’s always some, of course, and others that leave him in the dust, too - but for the most part he is perfectly aware that just because a lock gives under his fingers first try, it’ll give under someone else’s just the same. Doesn’t mean he isn’t paranoid about locks all the same, especially when they are supposed to guard him. He’d rather drop a platinum on good locks than having to jury-rig a warning system.

There’s plenty better climbers in Neverwinter, though - but that he has that magic rope that he found in only-the-gods-remember-where for these days. Claws might help you clamber up wood, but stone tends to be painful and either way, it’ll leave marks. Better to just use rope or another way in. If he has the time to slowly and meticulously search a room, chances are he’ll unearth whatever he is looking for. And when it comes to stealth, well, there’s enough that show him up when it comes to hiding but not that many that can vanish into the shadows as fast as he. (There’s more than one watch that learned that fact when they realised that the someone they’d just been pursuing had turned a corner and was suddenly gone. All he usually did was slink past them while they were busy poking through the detritus at the sides of the street, but it worked like a charm for the most part.)

It’s lifting purses that’s his weakness - most street brats show him up at that, not to mention the older, more experienced pickpockets he counts among his friends. He’s decent enough at it, he supposes, and he knows the basics well enough that he usually manages to slip a coin or five into someone’s pocket unseen, but it’s not his forte. He did lift that sword from that one vampire’s scabbard, though, and he’s still very, very proud of that. (He is less proud of what happened after. She climbed straight past where he was hanging off that railing, sword held in his teeth and thoroughly baffled by the time she was on the ground and busy tearing into Yorbroth. Feels like an insult, that, even though he probably ought to be glad she didn’t spot him.)

According to some of his friends, Khamri is obsessed with challenges. If it’s dangerous, this side of impossible or just too damn dangerous for any other lockcracker of sound mind to attempt, Khamri takes the job: That seems to be what most of his friends in Neverwinter’s guild seem to agree on. It’s usually remarked on with either a sneer, a shake of the head or an eyroll and Khamri can’t quite find it in himself to blame them. He did, after all, cultivate that reputation on purpose. Much easier to find excuses for not taking other jobs that way: He’d break into the appartment of the recalcitrant shopkeep and leave a warning, but it’ll be boring. He’d lift the owed fees from the safe box of that one inn, but that’s not a job for someone as adept with a lockpick as he - leave it to one of the newcomers, hey?

Useful things, obsessions. You never know how you can twist one into a weapon to defend yourself with until you’ve done it the first time.

According to some of his friends, Khamri is obsessed with joking. He shouldn’t be surprised: He cultivated that one, too. There aren’t many situations that can’t be disarmed, turned around or twisted to suit his own purpose with a well-placed joke, after all. Making a crass joke at the right juncture of a conversation is such a useful tool: It immediately draws all attention to that joke and if the other conversationalists aren’t well-versed in their craft, they can be made to forget all earlier topics with just a bit of insistent quipping. There are a great many jokes. Some are for making himself seem smaller, more unthreatening. Some are for doing exactly the opposite. Some are for disarming his opponent, some for goading them on.

Khamri, so the consensus seems to go, can’t for the life of him not make risque comments, puns and jokes during every fitting and unfitting situation. If someone were to pay attention, they might have noticed that he stops very abruptly in the presence of rulers and powerful nobles - unless he is sure the scales are balanced enough that he can ignore propriety at least that far. Alas. He’s obsessed and everyone knows it - and if everyone knows it, it must be true.

Useful things, perceptions - and so easily controlled. Not in everybody, that much is true, but still. He oughtn’t gloat: He was trained at court. How many other pickpockets and thieves are? How many sorcerers and tieflings are? (Yorbroth though, Yorbroth is canny enough to have picked up some of the details. Experience makes up for a lack of training every time.)

It’s a little bit unsettling, how well these things work. Khamri is well aware that if there is one thing he is actually, truly obsessed with, it is control - and then, once he has it, it starts to annoy him that it worked and people aren’t a little bit more careful, more attentive. For the most part, what he is doing isn’t even particularly subtle! Yet, somehow, it works time and time again - and not in the way that it works with those that have caught on to the fact that he steers conversations and people alike, in quick glances and messages exchanged in the tilt of a head or the narrowing of eyes, no, it works by people laughing and following along when he jokes and brags and flirts. 

He’s obsessed with his reputation. He’s obsessed with his skill. He’s obsessed with himself.

Sure. Khamri isn’t above admitting that those whispers have a grain of truth in them. (All things do.) He is cocky and sarcastic and has too smart a mouth for the position he is in. He will not deny that. (He would also have to smart a mouth for the position the ought to be in. Then again, would his mouth have become this smart had he not spent the last two decades of his life drifting him place to place and living wherever space was made open to him? Questions, questions.)

Any Aleian could tell you that a person isn’t just a person by the virtue of being themselves. No one is only themself. People are a collection of stories - stories about themself, yes, but also stories about the places they have been, the people they have loved and hated and lived besides, the stories they have heard and the things they have done and that have been done to them. Knowing that makes it easy to pick the things he shows to the world.

If a story is told in Vestallion, it always starts with the hero. No, that isn’t quite true: Sometimes it starts with the reason for the story existing. Once upon a time, there was a great red dragon. Once upon a time, there was a lass from a little village. Worse, when the story is actually true, they’ll happily inform you about the year and the place and what was happening, but they will never - never - actually start with how those things came to pass.

Why did the orcs come down from the mountains that year? Why had the great red dragon come to roost near the pass? Why had the hobgoblins marched into Vestallion? Why had the army met them south of the swamps? Why had the girl’s family settled in that village in that part of the land? Stories in Vestallion always start from a very convenient outset, but never the actual beginning. Khamri considers this both annoying and really rather fitting.

Vestallion wasn’t the start of his story either, after all, but certainly a beginning of many threads in that story. Taken separately, those threads probably do look like stories… 

It’s funny, really, how differently different people will tell their stories. The Grey Empire had given no context for most of theirs; it simply was expected that the audience would know the requisite history and myths to understand whatever was going on in the story being told. (And to be entirely fair, it had been easy enough to pick up on the context in most cases.) The story would simply start somewhere right in the middle, and the rest you had to piece together yourself from the clues given within it and the clues that everyone was supposed to already know. The orcs had been canny in building their empire: Every new story was welcome, every thread seamlessly added to their own tapestry. The result had been breath-taking in more than one sense of the word.

That Khamri had at least understood. In telling their stories as if they expected you to know them already, they had encouraged the listener to become familiar with them, and fast, provided the listener wanted to engage in the first place. It had been damned confusing in the beginning, but once patterns had begun to emerge, piecing together the rest had become easier and easier. Just by existing on the streets of the empire, one had learned their stories, and by learning their stories, one had learned to be a part of their tapestry.

There is a reason Khamri left the empire behind, and that is a large part of it: He had been young enough to refuse becoming a part of someone else’s tapestry.

That was a fool’s errand if Khamri has ever undertaken one. By now he is a part of a great many tapestries, not only his own. People talk about him in and around Neverwinter. Probably down south, near the mountains too. If the people of Phandalyn forget his name anytime soon, the village probably will have to be wiped out and repopulated first. And like all stories born of Vestallion, the story will start with… well, him. Not him alone, of course, rather him-as-part-of-a-whole, but still: That is where the story will start. With the heroes. With the events that necessitated their rise. That is how the story will end, too.

The thought amuses him when it doesn’t annoy him. Were he to tell his story - and he is aware just how unlikely that event is - it would start hundreds of years ago, thousands if he were being meticulous. Provided he didn’t have time for anything else, it’d start with his parents. This is the way Aleians tell stories: They tell you about what preceded them. They tell you what came after. They also tell you what happened, but to tell only of what happened, that strikes most Aleians as useless. What good is a single hero? A whole clan standing together is stronger. What good is a whole clan standing together? A town standing shoulder by shoulder will win every time. What good is a town standing shoulder to shoulder? An unbroken line of ancestors and descendants will survive every group of individuals.

from here. thank you~ <3

01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded? A little bit of both - it’s a word from a fictional language that stuck with me for various reasons, though a quick google search seems to indicate that it is also the plural of the Arabic word khamr. (The fictional meaning would be “rusty, rust-coloured, red” iirc, it’s been a while. Khamr, as I understand it, means something along the lines of “intoxicant”. Both are vaguely applicable, even though I was only thinking of the former when I named him.) 02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness? Khamri hates - hates - how easily he falls back into the patterns of behaviour he was taught as a child and youth. He doesn’t mind being poked fun at for the most part and is fairly open about his faults, but someone poking at the giant sore spot that is his upbringing - and his subsequent failings and exile - makes him fairly easily manipulated. It helps that nigh nobody knows about either, though. 03. What would be their favorite physical trait about themselves? His fur. He is redder than most of his family or compatriots and it’s always been a point of some pride to him - after all, it makes him stand out. As a youth, he spent a certain amount of time making sure it was as glossy and sleek as possible and that his ear tufts and whiskers were even and healthy, though the habit has since fallen to the wayside. There isn’t really anyone to appreciate them anymore, is there. 04. What are their favorite traits about their lover? (one psychological and one physical) As he doesn’t have a lover, I’ll go for the hypothetical instead: He likes muscular partners - the sensation of firm muscle rippling under fur is something he finds very pleasant. For the psychological, he likes it when people share his sense of humour but don’t let him bowl them over with it. That, after all, is boring. 05. Are they sexually confident or more of the shy type? Khamri flirts with nigh everyone. Not that he necessarily means anything by it - it is, among other things, an excellent way to keep others on the defensive - but he certainly isn’t shy about casual hook-ups. In love he hasn’t been for years: That would probably throw him off. But sex? He knows his way around that.

06. Do they have any hobbies that their lover finds unusual, odd, or otherwise annoying? A hypothetical Aleian lover might find his taste for hot cider a little baffling, or for that matter the habit of hoarding hats, gloves and legwarmers that actually fit the Aleian physique... and most of the dice or card games he likes, as he has quite frankly forgotten the rules for most of the ones of his home. 07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)? Do sarcastic comments count? If they don’t - he tends to give little amused huffs when something is funny, but not quite funny enough to make him laugh. 08. What is, perhaps, their biggest flaw? Are they aware of this or oblivious to it? Khamri cannot for the life of him keep his quips to himself. He knows it’s a problem and that he occasionally really should just stop, but if he isn’t paying close enough attention one or five will still slip out. 09. Do they have a favorite season? What about a favorite holiday? Summer, at least on the Sword Coast. Sure, the heat is more often than not wet rather than dry and that is an affront to the gods, but at least it’s warm instead of freezing! He rather likes Neverwinter’s championship games, for that matter: One, they’re in the summer and two, there’s lots of money to be made. 10. Is your character more feminine or masculine? Vaguely masculine, I’d say, though not necessarily in a modern day Western sense. Sure, he’s male and prefers male-coded clothing, but that doesn’t really translate to a specific pattern of behaviour or a specific aesthetic for him. 11. What is something that would make your character fly into a rage? Try denying him his heritage and the status it (theoretically) confers. He’ll like that a lot. 12. Is there some particular talent, skill, or attribute that they simply could not give up? Charming people. He’s relying on it far too much to ever not want to be able to do that. 13. What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Blanket stealer? One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker? Light sleeper. Usually cocoons himself in the blanket when he’s alone, wraps himself around bedmates when not. Doesn’t move a whole lot, but ears and tail twitch wildly when he’s dreaming. Doesn’t really understand the concept of bedclothes. 14. Do they live alone or with family? How do they feel about their family/roommates? He’s practised some form of more or less communal living ever since his birth - Aleians are highly social and don’t do well on their own. Even after he left his home, he usually stayed in close proximity of other Thieves’ Guild members and has semi-recently moved in with his friends / co-adventurers. He does like having his own room though, even if that costs more at inns. 15. Is there a certain person in this world that they cannot stand? The very mention of this person’s name makes them tremble with anger or fear. Not as much, no. Whoever is keeping them trapped on the Fuckoff Island of Weirdness is quickly getting there, though. 16. Is your character the athletic type or more of a couch potato? What are some sports/games that they like? Khamri is definitely more the athletic - or rather: the acrobatic - type. He enjoys climbing, though he especially likes what would probably be described as parcour in our modern terms (or as the GM put it on one memorable occasion, Assassin’s Creed’ing), as well as anything that allows him to push his acrobatic abilities. 17. Does your character have dreams of getting married and/or having children? Not in so many words. He used to, of course, and there is a small part of him that dreams of heirs, but that is conjecture and he knows it. 18. What kind of home would they want to live in? Where would they place this abode? This one’s easy: He’d live where he grew up, as his brother’s right hand as was intended. Not for the trappings or the luxury or the power, but for being able to undo his mistakes and go back on the decisions he regrets. 19. Would your character be the kind to get into fights? (physical or verbal) Would they be a good fighter or cave in rather easily? Khamri is the type to get into fights, if preferably the ones he can finish. He’s got a sharp tongue, sharper claws and an even sharper scimtar, and woe betide the idiot that lets him out of their sight so he can break out the ranged weapons and the poisons. 20. Does your character like animals? What are some of their favorite animals? Would they want pets? What about mythological creatures? Animals are alright? A good horse is a thing of beauty, of course, and a pack of loyal dogs or a swift falcon are joys that most underestimate. Cats are nice too, though he’s quickly tiring of them - Aleians are not cats and he’d thank everyone to remember that. Peacocks and songbirds at least make for beautiful decoration, even if the former lack the latter’s other aesthetically pleasing qualities. Does that about cover it? (He’d probably find fairy dragons hilarious, presuming the little buggers would know what to leave alone among his possessions, but has fought too many weird and / or magical creatures to want a closer bond to most of them, simply on principle.) 21. What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear? Khamri has grown up on stories about jinns, and while he doesn’t bat an eye at vampires, manticors or various other magical beasties, jinns scare the pants off of him. He subsequently overcompensates in terms of politeness when having to deal with them. 22. What kind of tattoos, piercings, birthmarks, freckles, and other such unique physical features do they have? None as such. There are a few scars and a slight tear in his left ear from a manticor spike, but apart from that Khamri looks rather pristine - a fact that he is half amused by, half proud of. 23. What is your character like when it comes to school? What subjects are they good/bad at? Do they get in trouble a lot or are well behaved? Khamri was a very obedient pupil back in his day. Whatever his tutors put in front of him he tries his hardest to excel at, though he was never quite an avid warrior. He liked history, though, and the lessons he would one day need to help administer his brother’s kingdom. 24. In their own words, how would your character describe what their lover is like? Despite Holly’s insistence, he doesn’t have one. 25. Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day? Would “overestimated his capabilities badly, had to flee his home once things came to a head and still isn’t sure if he didn’t cause the death of his parents, family, extended family or people” count? Because if it doesn’t I don’t think I can think of something worse. 26. What is their lover like sexually? How do they feel about their lover’s quirks, needs, etc? Again, Khamri is single. As long as he is the only Aleian that lives on the Sword Coast (that he knows of), it will also stay that way. Sorry, Holly. 27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it? His day job. Or is that his night job? Either way: theft. 28. If your character became a celebrity, what would they be famous for? Given that he already is a local celebrity of sorts: beating back a hobgoblin army. 29. What is one of the most courageous things your character has ever done for a loved one? Snuck into a hobgoblin fortress to find clues about a missing friend. He still regrets having taken the rest of the band along. 30. When it comes to the arts (music, film, theater, etc), what does your character like? Proper, cultured performances, thank you very much. Poetry readings, scientific discourses, music recitals, stage plays... as long as it isn’t the sort of farce the Northerners usually put on, chances are he’ll enjoy it. 31. Would your character be the kind capable of killing? Would they enjoy killing or only use it when necessary or, perhaps, refuse to kill no matter what? There are situations when Khamri shies away from killing - he really doesn’t like killing most humanoids, though extenuating circumstances exist - but for the most part he’ll kill if he has to. Othalia can be a harsh place, and better someone else than he. 32. If your character’s lover offered to take them out on a dream date, what would they want to do? A ride into the back country, their horses racing each other and the sun high above them - not for any specific reason, just to enjoy the speed and the heat and each other’s company. Maybe stopping to eat somewhere along the way, sneaking the horses dates when the other isn’t looking, laughing and flirting and forgetting about time. Returning only when the sun is setting and the world is starting to cool down around them, letting their horses pick their own way back, their fur smelling of each other as they dismount and let the horses be led away. 33. If your character wanted to be alone, where would they go? Neverwinter’s streets. No better place to vanish than among the masses that shuffle through those. 34. Does your character have favorite foods? (breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snacks, etc) Dates. Rich, thick coffee. Proper (!) tea. Soft, cool goat’s cheese. Couscous with lamb, or for that matter sweet couscous. Rose or orange water flavoured anything. 35. Is your character afraid of death? If they got to choose how to die, how would they want to go? He’s starting to fear death again, much to his annoyance - he used to have nothing to lose, but now that some ambition crept in again, he has better things to do than die! If he had to chose, though, he’d want it to be at the hand of his parents or siblings: To his mind, those have a right to his life more than anyone else. 36. Does your character have any medical conditions? Are they serious or minor? Do they affect their day to day life? No, he’s honestly disgustingly healthy. 37. What are some of your character’s pet peeves? What are some things that annoy them or disgust them? leT ME TELL YOU IN GREAT DETAIL ABOUT THE LACK OF CULTURE AND SOPHISTICATION UP HERE IN THE NORTH. (What they consider tea is at best flavoured hot water and let’s not even get into what they do to their recollection of their own histories on a regular basis!) 38. What kind of weather does your character like? Cloudy skies, rainy days, sunshine, etc? Sunshine. Sunshine is good. Rain, despite what everybody thinks, isn’t so bad either if it’s proper rain - a good summer shower is nothing to scoff at. Cool and windy can be nice too, but is not quite up to par with a clear, bright summer’s day where the sun warms your fur and a light breeze keeps the air from getting stale. 39. When people look at your character, is there some assumption they might make about them just by appearance? Is that assumption correct? Well yes, most people assume he isn’t from around these parts. They’d also be right: Aleians are native to another continent, for starters, and while Khamri has very much gone native, he most definitely isn’t from around here. 40. Does your OC have any guilty pleasures they enjoy? Hobbies, past times, music, etc that they wouldn’t want known by others? There is a variety of past times he enjoys that he wouldn’t want others to know about, but that is less because he’s ashamed and more because they don’t mesh well with the image he has cultivated for himself. There is also the fact that he genuinely enjoys cuddling and physical affection, which a) also doesn’t necessarily fit his image and b) probably would make someone quip about cats again, at which points he’ll probably have to throw her out of the nearest window and get into trouble with Lilyis. 41. Does your character’s family affect your character in any way? Heh. Yes. Yes, it does, much to his continued shame and / or annoyance. 42. Is there anything in your character’s past that they regret, haunts them, or they wish they could change? Is there ever. It starts at “thought he knew better than his father” and ends with “joined the Guild”, but there’s plenty of time and bad decisions between those two. 43. Does your character have a switch that changes aspects of their personality whether they are around friends, family, etc. Is there someone who gets to see their true self? The better someone knows him, the likelier it is they get to see something else than the perpetually snarky jokester without a care in the world. (Though granted, he repressed any cares that he might have had for a good ten years, so there’s that.) The more he trusts them, the more his bitter side comes through, which if nothing else is a good deal more honest than the jokester. The last quote-unquote unlock is Khamri letting himself be vulnerable and grieve openly, but that is a side of his that less than a handful people have seen ever since his exile. 44. Is there a particular event that would emotionally devastate your character? Several. Being responsible for the wide-spread death of innocents due to his crimes would be one - or for that matter people dying for his sins, general. Learning that his worst fears are true and he is the last of his line. Learning that he is responsible for the deaths of his family. Learning that there is no home anymore that he could come back to. 45. Is your character the kind to hide their true emotions or do they wear their heart on their sleeve? Khamri has all but perfected the art of defensive joking, verbal deflection and / or conversational misdirection. That should be all the answer this question needs.

Here is something that Khamri has been thinking about a lot lately: that manor sitting on the hill over Phandalyn. It is by all means a very nice manor - no wonder, that, a halfling had a hand in rebuilding it - and more importantly, he has come to speak of it as home. More to the point, he has come to speak of it as his home. That is new.

Here is something else that Khamri has been thinking about a lot lately: his home. Not Phandalyn Manor, no, his real home - the city in the southern reaches of the Aleian territory that he has been careful never to actually mention, that isn’t just his home but the home of his people. Generations upon generations tracing back to when the first stone was laid, not in the finest reaches of the Aleian lands but where it was right. That is also new.

He hasn’t thought of his home in years. Now the thoughts sit hollow and gnawing in his chest. Sometimes he wonders if he was better off returning to that room in Neverwinter that he used to rent, but then he usually tries not to kid himself: He’d just get roped into all the weirdness again if he stayed close. If he wants to regain his footing and his old life, content and anonymous at the margins, he’ll have to run and run far. Unless there’s a few months of travel between him and the Sword Coast, chances are it won’t be far enough.

That makes him think of how he’d explain that, usually. How would he even start? “I need to leave for… reasons. No, no, I’ll tell you, but you won’t like it”? That’ll go over well. Not to mention that Holly probably wouldn’t deal well and chances are Yorbroth would come with him and then the other two would also - and then he’d be stuck with it all again. Not that it’s a bad thing to be stuck with it, to the contrary, but…

And there he goes again. Circling and circling this merry mess in his head, seeing all too well where each road leads and liking none of them. If he tells them and they stick around, sooner or later he’ll find himself back at the gates of Aran, provided they still stand, with three more or less eager helpers at his side. If he tells them and they don’t stick around, chances are they’ll meddle themselves because what he would tell them would make for a very pretty story and he knows how good-hearted Holly is and how revenge-minded Yorbroth can be. If he doesn’t tell them and sticks around, well, he’ll be sticking around. And if he doesn’t tell them and leaves…

Oh, who is he kidding. If he leaves, it’ll feel like he’s betraying Ari one way or another. She was the mother wolf of their little group. In her absence that part has fallen to him, no matter how ill-suited he is to the task. Maybe if he excused himself properly - explained things, once and for all - would that buy his freedom?

By the gods, listen to him. He sounds like he imagines Sornu sounded at his worst - not that Khamri finds it very likely that he’ll go off and try to resurrect people (no matter how much less complicated matters would be if Ari was still alive), but still. It isn’t a good sign.

He was content. Hells, he was happy. Life was a lot less complicated back when he was a perfectly ordinary thief! (And that is saying something. Life in the Guild is a great many things, but uncomplicated isn’t necessarily a word he’d use.)

Then again, he was guessing this would happen. There’s only so far you can run from one’s doubts, after all - they had to catch up with him sooner or later. He was pretty sure both measurements would roughly allot to “after the whole hobgoblin thing is said and done” and would you look at that: He was right.

Doesn’t make it less annoying, of course, but there’s always a catch. Khamri knows perfectly well that he has been broody lately (or, as Lilyis would probably call it, stoked his messiah complex), but in his defense… he doesn’t know either. Something feels like it will give, and only the gods know whether that’s Khamri’s increasing broodiness talking, whether it’s the fallout from Ari’s death-slash-the hobgoblin situation or just accurate.

Then again, if his experience has taught him one thing, it’s that secrets always come back to bite the group dynamics in the ass. That’s one thing in the Guild, where it’s about expected that everyone has five different things they don’t talk about, but here… no, Khamri doesn’t know either.

Yorbroth hasn’t been half as broody as Khamri has expected him to be in the last few weeks. Not that he still broods even on the best of days, the grim voice of… well, not reason but at least something akin to normalcy in their middle, but ever since they found Ari’s body - it is hard to put into words. Something has changed, but what - that is a beast of an entirely different colour.

Khamri has half expected Yorbroth to pack up and leave in the aftermath of the funeral they held at Phandalyn - both he and his niece came from a nomadic tribe, after all, and Khamri can understand not wanting to stick around at a place where everything reminds you of something you have lost - but then the old bastard stayed after all and somehow seems to have become less grouchy in the process too. Hardship does fuse people together, it seems, or maybe Yorbroth has just become better at hiding his emotions. (Not that he’s ever been bad at that. Khamri is perfectly aware that grumbling hides pain and anger and whatever someone’s true thoughts might be as well as a smile and a quip do - there is a reason the classic mask comes in smiling and crying, after all.)

But some things are none of his business and so he stays out of those. He is perfectly aware that he is good at sussing things out, which is exactly why he doesn’t do it with his friends - it’s one thing to get someone’s secrets out of them when everyone knows everyone is fair game anyway, but here - here he has to be gentle. It doesn’t help that Yorbroth is very markedly ungentle and yes, maybe he coddles Holly too much - maybe he should be less careful too. Another thing he refuses to contemplate straightaway: Some headaches are for other days than this one.

No matter for now, anyway - they are, after all, on the road again. Not that the local bandits are much of a danger if he goes by the last ones he met, but chances are they aren’t and he can’t very well yell a warning in Thieves’ Cant at all of them in the hopes of scaring off the less foolhardy ones. People would probably ask questions and then someone would want him to teach them the Cant and it would be a terribly awkward situation all around. Not that he feels great at Yorbroth murdering his way through the ranks of the local bandits either, but maybe that is what it’ll take for their reputation to spread.

By the gods. They have a reputation now. Khamri doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry - as long as he can make this whole thing they have going on work for him, a reputation cannot hurt, but the second the aforementioned thing stops working… well, not to put too fine a point on it, but if it ever stops working he is well and properly fucked. A thief cannot hope to operate in any sort of necessary anonymity if every second child knows his name, after all.

Another problem for another day, that. They have rather a lot of these, don’t they - sometimes it seems they find a new one every second conversation. Khamri considers this, briefly, then decides to dither for a moment or two so he can fall back enough to end up walking alongside Yorbroth again. “Say”, he says as casually as he possibly can, which gets him a really rather impressively suspicious look, “I have been thinking…”

“That can’t be good”, Yorbroth mutters. Khamri acknowledges this with a grin, but doesn’t let it stop him.

“...with everything that went on, everything we managed to survive and best and what-synonym-have you - did we really ever talk?”

Another suspicious look. “That depends on your definition of talking.”

“My point exactly!” Khamri beams at Yorbroth, then drops the pretense and shrugs. “It’s just… I mean, I haven’t told my entire life’s story to the people I worked with in the past either, but we talked, you know? Sometimes people share stories when they’re afraid of something, to create a stronger bond. Sometimes they share stories afterwards, out of relief and because it’s easy to feel you can trust the others now that you’ve survived and succeeded together. So why did we never…?”

“You mean, us two or…?” Yorbroth gives a short, sharp jerk of his head towards the front of their tiny little caravan, where Holly and Lilyse are.

“Both, I suppose, but that’s only half my point.” Khamri pauses, trying to put this feeling - because it is more of a feeling than a thought - into words for a moment or two before he gives up. “We work, don’t we? As a group. Sure, we disagree, but on a whole we work. So how do we work when we don’t trust each other with the things that make us vulnerable?”

Yorbroth appears to consider this for a moment or two, then snorts. “You’ve gotten complicated all of a sudden.”

Khamri shrugs, and as he does so, he can feel the crooked grin spreading over his face entirely by itself. Ah yes: humorous deflection, his old friend. “Look, I can’t help it that none of you have an identity that revolves more or less entirely about your home, or lacking that, your people - or at least I hope you don’t have one as well, because I cannot entirely recommend one in our position.”

Yorbroth just looks at him again, with an expression that somehow manages to convey his scepticism even through the scales. Khamri, now apparently having committed to trying to fast-talk his way out of this, continues talking. This proves to be a terrible idea.

“What, you think this troubles me? And by this, I mean any of the statements I just made; just take your pick! I mean, yes, you would be right, but we’ve talked about this, I worry - it’s what I do! It’s my position in this group - I am the worrywart. There, now I said it and you will use it to make fun of me until the world ends or you’ve found something better, whichever comes first.” And then, fortunately: “I’ll stop digging now.”

He even does so. Yorbroth seems vaguely amused, which is a start. Khamri mutters a “I’ll be over there for a bit”, which gets him another amused snort, and goes hide in the aforementioned over there, which is roughly five paces ahead of Yorbroth. It is a very metaphorical hiding.

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |