Velvet

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Heading deeper into Ashfall Waste was something Bramwell and his crew weren't too keen on doing. Yet a party at Cinderslag would certainly be one such matter to move him. Accompanied by his trusted right-wing dragon, the captain couldn't help but spend the evening indulging in tell-tales with dragons he'd never met before. Food? Drinks? Music and dance? Nay, he's got plenty of that out at the sea. But fresh company and stories of truths and lies alike were a scarce commodity.

Sterling did not share the same kind of love for tattle like his captain, far more engrossed in the cup of tea in his claws than the matters of love for dragons he'll never meet. Even when Bram would elbow him for his opinion, Sterling remained detached and uninterested in all of it.

"Hah. Don't try ta play fools, aye?" Bramwell scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "To think e'd be th one to be played so. Fella should o seen it comin'."
"Indeed. He really thought he could get away with it!" returned the pearlcatcher he'd been speaking to. "Can you believe it?"
"Ah s'pose e woulda. If not fer their friendship."
"Kind of impressive too." added the other pearlcatcher at their table. "You would think he'd know. They were best friends after all!"
"Aye, themst the hardest part ta believe."

The pearlcatchers exchanged their oohs and aaahs whenever they weren't snickering. What a classic and predictable sight. Sterling sighed in a bored manner, wondering if perhaps some stereotypes weren't as baseless as some would claim.

"What about you, Bram? Have you any spicy stories to tell?" one of the pearlcatchers looked at him with expecting eyes, hungry for more.
"Nay, ah wouldnta be here had me book been full." he let out a hearty laugh, before slipping into a more contemplative expression. "Although..."
Pulling on his whiskers, Bramwell spent a moment collecting his thoughts. His tablemates quietly watched him, intrigued to see what he'll say.
"We got a fellow y'see. Real odd that one."
"What's so odd about him?"
"Oooh, is he perhaps... shady?"
His audience was quickly won over.

"E sure be shady alright. But ah can't figure out why." Bramwell elbowed Sterling again. "Ye agree dontcha, son?"
"Are you talking about Laurant?" Sterling hesitated to respond, but knew the captain wouldn't stop trying to drag him into this one. It was a common topic on the ship, after all.
"Aye, the same."
"I really think he's just reserved, Cap'n."

Bramwell gave him a pensive look, like he always does, clearly not buying Sterlings logical explanation over whatever wild theories he and the crew cooked up.
"Ah thought so too laddie, but 'es got more to himst than it seems. For one," Bramwell returned to his kin with a serious look on his face. "Es a respectable lad. What 'es gonna gain from them lies?"
"Oooh! A public figure?"
Bramwell nodded. "Es our envoy."
"Retired one." Sterling interrupted, though it didn't seem like anyone noticed.
"Next, 'es got this pal. Two peas in a pod y'see."
"Is he suspicious too?"
"Aye lass, e plays dumb but 'es real smart that one. Knows stuff some experts don't."
"My, that DOES sound fishy!"
"Ah be tellin' ya! It don't sit well wif me."

Thankfully, the gossip girls quickly forgot about the spiral. They kept theorizing and spinning rumors of the two imperials, forgetting Sterling was even there. He was quite glad of that, as he really wasn't built for this. What's so odd about keeping secrets, anyway? Other than the mystery, there really wasn't anything more to them. Jolly fellows, those two. He needed more allure to be captivated by something like that. More drama, more evidence! And most of all, a reason to figure it out! A treasure! Some incredible secret or forgotten land! That's what romanticizing mysteries is all about! Not the private matters of two old dragons who aren't causing anyone any trouble.

It didn't take long before Sterling slipped into a daydream of adventure, zoning out the chatter around him. Only the gentle sound of waves and the squawking of gulls could be heard in his mind.