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From WikiWatch

Chapter 1: The Market

Qeynos Harbour was busier than she had expected. This was largely due to the ramblings of a gnome in Baubbleshire who had wittered on at great pace about how the brokers there were the best to be had and his Aunt just the other day had bought a lovely set of dining chairs with some delicate leaf filligre around the edge. He had then proceeded to give her directions to said broker, told her about the bank at the far end of town where she might take out a deposit box for a small fee, described the vast number of fish stalls in the seaside market selling everything from shark to goldfish and the ‘verra nice mans in the armoury who’s’ll fix dat rip in yer trousies fer nexta nuttin!”.

So Taraiha, expecting a small seaside fishing town with a few shops and a bank was surprised when she saw the bustle around the central bridge. To her right a large force was gathering. From their banners she gathered they all members of the same clan and their pre-battle banter seemed to indicate they were going to take down a mighty foe. For a moment, Taraiha considered offering her assistance but then realized it was foolish. They were all so much bigger and stronger than her. What could she do? Carry their flag?

A young lad on the edge of the group, quiet and clearly younger than his friends threw her a grin and a wave. She waved back. Normally her natural curiousity would have taken this as an invitation to be nosey. But she had far more pressing concerns this day.

Following the accurate, if somewhat verbose directions of the gnome from Baubbleshire, she squeezed behind a stall by the bridge and headed off down the alley. As she approached her destination she could hear sounds of haggling.

Turning the corner she was greeted by a throng of warriors, townsfolks, magicians and Brell only knew what else, all gathered in front of one rather snooty chap, who handed out items and spirited away the cash he received into the folds of his cloak. A cloak obviously designed to thwart anyone with itchy fingers.

Taraiha’s own fingers twitched of their own accord. She had little money and had come here hoping to bag herself a bargain known as ‘two daggies anna new satchil please’. If she could find a few additional coins she might be able to afford a new pair of boots. The ones she owned had suffered enormously from months of seawater aboard the pirate ship that had brought her here and she could feel the cobbles of the street through the soles.

Being only 3ft high, she had an advantage. Her eyes were right around waist level with the majority of most townsfolk. And waist level was where most people kept their money pouches. Slipping a small pocket knife from her belt (a present from a pirate friend on board the ship) she began to slip through the crowd, gently slicing her knife through the leather thongs that were meant to keep purse and belt securely together. When she had accrued a couple, she wandered quietly around the corner of the building and counted carefully.

“12 silvery bits anna goldie bit!” she exclaimed to herself. “Dat gonna be nuff ferra whole new outfit, some new daggies an some foodstuffs!” She grinned to herself and walked the long way round the building, in an attempt to avoid suspicion, back down the alley and arrived at the spot she had first stopped.

Well, close to it anyway.

Chapter 2: A Blocked Path

Her path (and most of her view) was blocked by a large barbarian in full battle gear and his rather bored looking horse. Several “Scuse me’s” later she decided he probably couldn’t hear much with such a large helmet on and frowned, trying to think of another way around.

She tried to crawl underneath the horse’s belly but the horse sensed her presence and shifted, blocking her path. She scowled and looked around again. Perhaps if she could get up on the river wall she could get around the beast.

Clambering up, somewhat clumsily, she tried to edge around the back of the rider and his mount. The enormous charger twitched it’s tail like a whip, almost sending her flying off the wall into the river. She climbed down. She didn’t like swimming. She preferred her water with boats on it.

Sighing, she realized she was going to have to take drastic action. Once again taking out her pocket knife she stabbed it right into the barbarian’s boot. He kicked out lazily as if bitten by a mosquito. Taraiha stared at her blade, amazed that anyone could fail to feel that puncturing their skin. This was going to take some effort.

As if on cue the barbarian dismounted. She could now see a little more of him and noticed a glowing object at his hip. The small wooden ward had a strange circular top and engraved runes that seemed to dance above the surface they were carved on. She grinned.

“Aaaah!” the barbarian hollered as the pocket knife made contact with the runes. He staggered slightly, leaning against his horse and turning with a lot more agility than she would have expected, to see who had inflicted such a blow.

He took her in with one look and immediately smiled. “Ahh, I’m sorry young miss” he said in a kind, deep, gentle voice. A flask appeared in one hand as if by magic and he took a swig. “The ole mystic is in your way I see, hic”

Taraiha nodded. “Yes yous is! I wanna go shoppin an yous an yous big clodhoppin hossy blockin da paff!” She stared up at him wide-eyed; defensive, wary and determined to fight for her right to go and see what the broker had to offer. She noted that neither the barbarian nor the horse had moved an inch to let her past.

There was a pause as the old man took another swig from his flask, sighed with deep satisfaction, screwed the top back onto the flask and… it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Taraiha peered curiously. She had seen the old gnomish tricksters back home with their three cup tricks and coins from the ears of children, but if you watched closely enough you could see how it was done. This one had her beaten and she ealized that this barbarian must be very powerful to perform such magic.

“Yous still in gnomie’s way.” She pointed out, a little gruffly. She was tired, hungry and her feet hurt. She needed new boots and to get back to her inn room.

The barbarian looked around as if wondering who was talking, then noticed her again and seemed to grunt.

She frowned and put her hands on her hips. “Get outta da ways please I tryin ta shop!” she exclaimed, loud enough for him to hear and with a little more gusto and bravado than she felt she would have until after she had had a good night’s sleep.

The barbarian jumped as if knocked form a daydream. “I’m sorry short one. I was conversing with the spirits.” He winked and suddenly the flask was in his hand again and he was drinking deeply.

She tapped her foot a little impatiently, waiting for the flask to disappear again, which it did, accompanied by a loud “Ahhhh, hic”

“OY! SHIFTIT!” she shouted. This time the barbarian took a little more notice of her, as did several other people on the far side of the horse He looked down at her and suddenly his old, cragged face disintegrated into a smile. He reached down an enormous hand, put it firmly round her waist and lifted her up onto the back of his horse as if she weighed no more than his flask. She stared at him in surprise.

“Sorry little one. Do continue your shopping trip” he winked at her again and smiled in much the same way as her grandfather used to.

She grinned back, the prospect of shopping immediately lifting her mood, then she lightly jumped down from the back of the horse to join in the bartering of goods taking place around her.

Chapter 3: Lord Gunnyret

Some hours later, yawning a little but her heart thumping from the excitement of outbidding a young ranger for a beautiful pair of brown boots, and with a brand new pair of gleaming rapiers hung at her hips, she began to make her way back out to the dock to catch a ferry back to Baubbleshire.

As she made her way toward the bridge she noticed the old barbarian, sat on a wall beneath a giant statue of a queen. He seemed to be watching Taraiha with interest. She sensed no danger. Four years of adventuring when you looked, from a distance, no different to a human child of eight years, had taught her to hone her senses so that she could tell who was good and who intended her harm. She sensed nothing but good emanating from the old man. She wandered over to him.

Barely as high as his shoulder, even though he was sat on a low wall, she held up her new purchases. “I gots new bootses” she said, trying to spark up a conversation. “Dems purdy, yes?”

The barbarian nodded and smiled. “Indeed they are young one” he replied as she crouched down, undoing the laces of her old pair and putting the new ones on. She paraded around a little getting used to the feel. The old man watched her, fascinated.

She grinned up at him. “I’s Taraiha” she said brazenly, holding out tiny hand. “I’s a pye-rit” she added, just in case he thought she was a beggar or something.

He took her hand in his own enormous paws and shook it carefully. “I am Lord Gunnyret” he announced.

Taraiha’s eyes widened. She had never met a Lord before. Suddenly she felt a little embarrassed about stabbing him in the foot.

“Yousa shammy whassname in’t yous?” she nodded as if confirming she was right and pointing to the runed ward at his hip.

“A mystic actually” the old man corrected, “but it is not so different.”

Taraiha nodded again. “I kneweded a shammy once. Him wer strange. Nevva spikkedta no one cept hims fammy.” She shrugged.

Gunnyret laughed. “Well, I will talk to anyone who will talk to me. An old ‘shammy wassname’ has to keep himself entertained.” He chuckled a little and the flask appeared and disappeared again.

There was a short silence. Taraiha felt she would like to stay and talk more but she was beginning to worry about being out and about in a strange town so late at night. The thought of returning to Baubbleshire with it’s lights and chatter and the comfort of knowing no one was taller than her seemed very inviting.

“You are alone here aren’t you little one?” Lord Gunnyret asked, as if reading her thoughts. Taraiha nodded slowly. “I comed ere onna ship smornin” she said.

“Well, perhaps you would like to meet my family and have a little supper with us.”

She thought for a moment. It had not occurred to her that there might be a Missus Gunnyret and maybe some grandbaby Gunnryets and a nice warm fire she could toast herself by. Although wary of going off with a stranger, she was comforted by the instinct that he was good at heart and the idea of hot food swung the vote.

She smiled up at him. “Okies! Gnomie would like dat!”

He lifted her up onto his horse, took up the bridle and began to head up the ramp towards the southern end of the town. “Well then my dear, come and meet the family of Truewatch.”

Chapter 4: The Watch

As they entered a large house in the centre of South Qeynos, she could hear the sounds of music and merry making in a room beyond the entrance hall. The old mystic immediately began removing his heavy armour to reveal a slightly worn, but comfortable looking robe and left his large axe on top of the heap. Around the room she could see similar piles of everything from fancy robes to plate mail, small throwing knives to enormous broadswords as tall as her and shields as big as the doors back home.

Gunnyret beckoned to her as he walked through into the main hall and she toddled after him. She gasped. She had not been expecting the sight that greeted her.

A long table and many chairs and stools surrounded a young Halfling who reminded her of her mother. The Halfling was stood up on the table recanting the climax of a story about a dragon in great detail and with much chuckling and arm waving.

On each chair and stool, and around the edges of the room on various of cushions, sat an assortment of people of all ages and races.

She noticed a very stern looking dark elf with blue skin, sitting bolt upright on a fancy stool, barely moving except to occasionally smile at the merry making going on around her. A pair of female Iksar sat in one corner, deep in conversation with each other.

On the far side she noticed a group of Kerra, one of whom, his arm draped lazily around a red haired human girl, flashed her a toothy smile and winked suggestively. She raised an eyebrow at him and turned her attention to a young elf in the corner, who sat whittling pieces of wood, a series of bows and totems strewn behind him on the floor.

He caught her eye. “Can I interest you in a bow little one?” he smiled warmly and held up a small bow barely a foot long.

“No fankyous” she grinned back. “I not use no sissy elfie weppins. I’s juss boughtit new daggies taday.”

The elf protested. “Sissy elf weapons indeed! There is nothing sissy about these! These are made of the finest elm in the land” he exclaimed. Taraiha shrugged at him. “Well, I fink it is. Throwa bitta twig at summink an run ways is sissy.” She nodded and he laughed loudly.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, you know who to ask” he said, returning to his woodwork.

A Kerra sat next to the elf chuckled softly. “Hello lil un” he purred. “Are you joining the family?”

Taraiha blinked at the question, her mind whirring into action. She had not realized that this was what Gunnyret had meant by family until now. And now she was distracted because half of her brain was trying to resist the urge to run over to the Kerra for a big hug. If there was one thing Taraiha liked as much as shopping, it was cats.

As if reading her mind, the Kerra twitched his tail at her playfully and chuckled again, leaning forward and tickling her face with his whiskers.

She giggled and leaned into the tickles, then wrapped her arms round his warm, soft neck and gave him a quick hug.

She was about to reply to his question when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Turning she looked into the eyes of Lord Gunnyret, who was kneeling beside her, a large mug in one hand and the cooked leg of what looked to be an enormous chicken in the other.

“Yes, would you like to join our family little one?” he smiled.

Behind his shoulder the Halfling who had been telling the story earlier stood smiling at her, her eyes twinkling in the candle light.

Taraiha nodded. “Yes, gnomie woult like dat lots I finks.” She smiled happily as the Halfling hugged her.

“Welcome to the Watch my dear” she whispered as the Barbarian rose and hammered his fist on the table.

“Friends! Your ears for a moment! I would ask you all to welcome young Miss Taraiha into our family.” Suddenly she felt herself lifted through the air onto the table by a pair of strong furry paws. Glancing back she realized they belonged to the Kerra she had just been talking to.

She steadied herself and gazed around the room at the laughing, cheering, friendly faces, each one saying hello to her in turn and introducing themselves. She caught few of the names, but she felt enriched and lighthearted from the warmth of the greeting.

“Ooh” she gasped, clapping her hands together. “Lotsa new frients fer gnomie!” and grinned broadly as she waved back to as many as she could manage.