“As I often heard from your older colleagues that my lecture is too detailed, I will try to give you only the most basic information about Isvaarheim and its culture. All in a brief form. Those wishing to learn more are welcome on the lecture that I will hold tomorrow morning for dwarves and gnomes.

Den Chéad Uair Sídhe. This is a term we use for ourselves in our language. Simplified translation to the common language most of you utilise would be Eldars.

Many outsiders tend to think that we create a single, uniform nation. While our reaction to external threats might look like that, it is very far from the reality.

Isvaarheim is split into numerous provinces ruled by a collection of princes, princesses and mages. Our internal politics won’t be a subject of this lecture; intrigues weaved by elven noble houses often span for ages, grudges and alliances between them seemingly ancient from a perspective of a human.

In our society, we consider one to be an adult after he reaches an age of 50. By that time, he should learn all the basics – language, writing, mathematics, history, history of magic, music, art, our culture, etiquette. Mind you, that the basics in our understanding are very different from how you, humans, view them.

Of course, some of you might still say it’s simply too long. Let’s take a language, High Elven. You often think that you’ve learned it after just three or four years of study, but it is just that, you only think. Then you travel to Isvaarheim and wonder why Eldars are often so aloof, arrogant to you.

Do you know why? The answer is simple; because you are really pissing us off. You are using wrong terms to address almost everyone you meet. The inflexion you have is almost insulting, the subtleties of the language lost with the lack of melody. Just a slight change in your speech, one that you likely won’t even notice, makes you sarcastic or fraternizing. Yes, we sort of accept it, because, after all, most of you wouldn’t live long enough to learn it properly anyway.

Similarly for the etiquette; those leaving our isles have to take their time to get used to the haste and rush, behaviours that contradict everything they’ve learned before. Some adapt easier, for others it could take years.

We are a patient race, that approach is visible in our culture and art. Most of our traditional songs are longwinded, requiring forbearance to fully appreciate. Even a single portrait could take years to complete because the painter would wait for each individual brush stroke to dry before making next. For the same occasion, you would make a bouquet of flowers, an Eldar would till a garden to perform a flower art on its own…

In adult life, we are choosing a discipline we seek to learn. Each is a Path unto itself, that might later necessitate a further choice or specialisation. While ideally, we should aim for the mastery upon the chosen Path, we usually seek a new one long before attaining it. Because of this, we are able to explore many aspects of our own character, each new Path adding to our accumulated experience. Yet, the closer one is to mastering a Path, the harder it is to leave it for him. Those who are unable to do so are said to be “lost upon the path”, unable to find a purpose in pursuing a different one anymore. This fate is a terrible one for young Eldars, but often embraced by olders, who already experienced numerous Paths throughout their lives.”

- Aetherna University Lecture – Isvaarheim: Part I

A blonde girl, wearing slightly mismatched clothes of a servant, like a person who gained a few pounds of weight recently, yet was still hoping to hide it, walked down a street. She struggled in the crowd, pushing through groups of other servants or making way for nobles and merchants wandering in the markets. Not many of them were willing to spare her more than a single glance.

Sometimes, she approached another passer-by, talking with him for a while, before continuing in her own way. As the girl was bland, even if people seemingly enjoyed their brief conversations with her, they tended to forget about such an encounter quickly, focused on their own businesses.

The girl herself was very excited, even if this wasn’t viable on her face.

‘It’s been almost ten years since the last time I was preparing a real heist! Probably… After all, everything from before I was remade is blurred, almost like a dream.’

They’ve chosen her for a ritual seven years ago. Then, she had to spend almost four years getting used to her new body, learning to control her new powers. Only after this, when the Council deemed her ready, she was allowed to leave their enclave.

She stumbled against a servant, a heavy basket the young man carried sending her on the ground. The girl made a pained face, trying to get up.

“Sorry, let me help you.”

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A faint smile appeared on her face as she grabbed the extended hand.

“No, it’s my fault. I’m hurrying to the Swiftglide’s mansion, yet it’s the first time I’ve been sent here and I can’t find it…” She stood up, still clinging to servant's hand.

“You are almost there, it’s the building on the right.”

“Oh, thank you! You are my saviour. I was afraid that I’d be fired if I don’t deliver the message in time…” She influenced the man a little, “Yet, I’m little scared to go in there, I heard that recently Edler Swiftglide was in a bad mood, punishing those who brought bad news to him…”

The young man looked around, then answered silently: “A friend of mine is working in the kitchen in their mansion and he heard some gossips. After few of Swiftglide’s retainers returned badly wounded, the edler has been furious. They say that a business they were making with Silverfords went wrong…”

“Silverfords? I was told to stay away from them…”

“And you better continue to do so, they are dangerous. Numerous scums in the harbour are on their payroll. I heard that their thugs even raided some warehouses of minor traders recently. Of course, nobody found any proof it was their doing. It’s sure as Nine Hells they are also bribing guards…”

She continued talking with the man until she deemed that he doesn’t know anything more.

“Once again thank you for your help.”

As each of them walked in their own direction, the young man hurried, wondering why he decided to spend so much time talking with this girl, being almost late now.

****

The night was slowly coming down as Sae walked past harbour’s alleys. The piers quieted down, only few latecomers still entering the port. It was a time when rough taverns scattered throughout the area were coming alive.

She was wearing a worn cloak, hood covering her face, revealing only a few strands of dark, dyed hair and heterochromic irises paying attention to every corner.

‘It’s a pity that I don’t have something like Ion’s bag. Preparing disguises would be so much easier if I wasn’t limited mostly to clothes I can find in the area,’ She wasn’t able to travel with as many things as she would like to. ‘Maybe I could convince him to carry my wardrobe inside…’

Seeing a thug hiding behind a building she looked straight at him, expressively unsheathing one of her swords. The man was gone in no time.

She smirked and headed in the direction given to her by one of the thugs she harassed earlier.

‘Finally a city. A few days when I don’t have to pretend to be sleeping all night.’

Recently, she started to think that giving the wizard a scroll with Create Shelter backfired.

‘I really expected to have my own compartment thanks to this spell… maybe I should tell them that I can function just fine with two or three hours of a rest? Attribute it to the elven blood… Yet the ability to sustain oneself by entering a trance is very rare among half-breeds. Moreover, I can see that Ion is still suspicious about my claim…’

She sighed. That wizard intrigued her. From what she gathered he seemed to be a young, wild talent. A gifted raised by minor merchants, with a father starting to develop ties with nobility recently. Up to now he basically lived a sheltered life. Yet there was little of naivety, only tinges of curiosity she would expect to find in someone leaving his hometown behind for the first time. Also, his attitude definitely not matched that of someone who suddenly learned that he has a power… at least not until they found out how powerless they could be against those even stronger. Usually in a hard way.

“Well, I guess he is matching our little group of freaks.”

She laughed inside; sometimes, during her trances, she could catch glimpses of the future. An uncertain precognition, just a wild thread of fate, yet as she believed, the most probable.

“The mercenary still dreaming and believing in his knight’s ethos. The half-elven paladin who swore the Oath of Vengeance; an exiled noble from the country which despises elven-blooded. The dwarf who had once fallen in love with a halfling, left his clan to live with her, then returned and holed himself in the mountains’ keep for years after she had passed away. And me…”

Her train of thoughts was interrupted when she spotted a larger group not far away. Sae immediately felt they had a hostile intention, so she decided to hide behind one of the warehouses and continued by taking a different street.

Her demeanour could scare off single thugs, yet the groups were too dangerous. She believed in her ability to deal with three or four thugs at once, but better to be safe than sorry.

Soon, Sae saw a shabby sign with barely readable letters “The Pious Rogue” on it. Shouts and laughter spilled from the tavern as she entered. She scanned patrons inside before sidling up to the bar. A bartender; the huge older man, seemingly a fighter in his youth, quickly took the coins from her and gave her an ale.

A pair of robed figures, sitting by one of the far tables clearly stood out in the crowd of labourers and sailors. The wizards were seemingly tense, as if unused to being in a place like this.

“What a lass like you is doing here alone?” a drunken patron sat by her side.

Sae turned to look at the man, for a moment letting her hood to fall back a little, revealing numerous scars she prepared with a makeup.

“Just some businesses. Better for you to not get involved,” she responded in an indifferent, cold voice.

Just when the man was going to resort another voice cut in.

“I won’t allow any troublemakers here,” the bartender said.

The patron's eyes moved between her and the threatening figure of a burly man for a moment before shrugging and returning to his drinking buddies.

Sae raised her ale towards the man behind the bar in acknowledgement, then headed to a table not far from the one occupied by the wizards.

“Seems like you could use one more for Karak,” she approached a small group playing cards.

They were reluctant at first, yet putting some silver coins on the table convinced them. She paid only a little attention to the game, focusing mostly on observing the table next to her.

“…a bad idea… Is he even coming here?” she half heard, half lip-read the wizards.

“…leave the guild. They might still allow us to return. ….expelled yet.”

Looking at them from this close, she noticed that even if their robes were still impeccable, their faces were a little scrawny, with baggy eyes as if they were not properly resting for days.

After a while, a man entered the tavern.

A leather greatcoat over studded armour, wrapped up in a multitude of leather straps and buckles, long knives hanging at each of his hips, with two more hilts protruding from his boots created an intimidating figure.

With her trained eye, Sae also noted expensive silver bracelets the man wore. According to what she heard they were an unofficial sign of trusted Silverfords' men. He took a glance around and headed towards the wizards’ table. People eagerly made a way for the man, not wanting to risk his displeasure.

“I pass.”

After overhearing enough of their conversation, Sae took a few coins she managed to win and left the tavern.

This encounter gave her an idea how to easily asses the defences of the place from which they would try to recover the schematics. As the night was still young, she decided to immediately start spreading rumours in various taverns. They would surely help later…