Sigils of the Bloody Dawn
They both mounted their respective horses and cantered the short distance from the jailhouse to the Prancing Pony. This time, however, no hood nor mask were to be seen worn by Chaney. At the rear of the inn again, after he had dismounted and tied Hedinn, Fiontann courteously offered aid to Chaney to disembark Bertnar. She duly obliged his offer and used his hand to swiftly jump down from her horse.
They both climbed the steps up to the main door of the inn where Fiontann extended his kind manners yet again and opened the door for her to enter. Chaney would walk through into the main room and, in his usual manner, Fiontann would kick the door shut using his boot heel.
He motioned for her to find a table to sit at whilst he strode over to the counter and tossed a few coins Barlimans way. Asking for two tankards of ale he surveyed the room. Upon receiving the ale from the innkeeper he walked over to the table and placed both tankards down, one where he would be sitting and the other carefully in front of Chaney.
Chaney would sit for a while not quite believing her day so far. Fiontann would remain looking at her and asking why she was so quiet. She explained to him that no one had ever treated her this way. Firstly being so kind as to offer her a horse, and then if that were not enough, to pay off whatever amount of ransom was on her head with the guards.
He explained to her that she was a member of the Bloody Dawn now, and that they all looked out and cared for each other. Chaney, as ever, in her usual cold emotionless voice would say it was his company and not hers. Fiontann would frown and explain to her that it was her company now too and belonged with them.
He rummaged through his belt pouches for a moment and took out two silver sigils and slid them across the table to her. She stared at them for a moment, picked them up, and inspected them with curious eyes. He would say to her that she should wear them to let folk know she were a ‘Dawner’ and that other members would recognize her to be so now.
She pinned them, one each, to her tight leather leggings just above and to the side of each of her dagger sheaths that sat on her left and right legs. She felt within herself that she was starting to belong to something again. She did not, however, let her emotion spill over.
Fiontann wondered as to why Chaney had become so quiet, obviously not accustomed to her being a woman of little word anyway.
