Channeling Faerun

Bromm sits alone, the old wooden chest open for the first time in… well, it’s been away, out of mind since…

Since he’d buried her.

This hostel, this life… one they’d dreamed up together. One she never got to see, but one he had honored nonetheless. This building, this life… a tribute to her.

“Bah.” He murmurs, his gravelly voice wavering. “Would ah’ told me off, being sentimental, woul’ ya nae?” A hand, brushed across his eyes. “I know. But ye know I couldn’t let go. Still hard, love… you…” Bromm needs a moment.

“Ah, I miss you so. Every day, you know? And this… this is what I have, isn’t it?” He gestures, vaguely to the trunk. “All I have of ye. A box. And my memories. And that…” Tears, though his composure remains as calm as it has always been . “...that bedamned monument they insisted on.” He laughs, gently, wiping his face. “Oh, how ye’d rage at that. May be that I let them build it just to spite ye.”

He takes the topmost items of the trunk out… clothing, mostly, and letters neatly wrapped in twine. The clothing, he raises to his face… inhaling, gently… the memory of her scent, her perfume, her soaps… flooding his mind.

“You told me before ye….” he stumbles over the words, still difficult to say. “...before ye left. That I’d learn how to spot the ones that needed us most. Done well I think, ‘least less harm than good. Told me you’d watch, from… from where you are.” He pauses again, to compose himself.

“This girl. This ‘yanki girl. Nay. This gith girl.” He lowers his head, breathing in again. “Reminds me of me, love, tired, not wanting the life I’d got, wanting different, not knowing how to start.” He laughs a little. “Think that’s why I helped her. Like knows like.”

“Gonna be giving her some of your things, help her get her feet. Think you’d like that, love. Know you’d laugh, ye brat, at me giving your things to a damn githyanki.” He chuckles, wiping his cheeks once more.

“Ye saved me from my past, love. Maybe ye can help me save this one, too.”

-——

“Bromm.” Filia says, running a finger along the edge of a well-seasoned pan. “These are lovely. But I cannot… these are your things. I could not-”

Bromm laughs, patting her on the shoulder. “Don’t be daft, girl. Just some old things I’d near forgotten I had. Welcome to them, not doing me any good. Need the room, see?”

Filia tilts her head, sensing something more… but not yet having the experience to understand. “I do not see, but I know you will insist until I say yes.” Filia replies. “So I will say yes.”

“Easier every time.” He chuckles. “Join me for a kaethe?”

“To that, I will also say yes.”