Despite how late things finished the night before Trafin found himself awake with the dawn once again, for an even more ominous summons this time; his mother had invited him for tea. While it was framed as an invitation Trafin was under no doubt that attendance was far from optional, elves just believed in framing things in niceties. While the meeting would normally fill him with trepidation a mixture of tiredness and joy from the meeting with Father Kieran were keeping it at bay for the moment.
As he made his way through the entrance of the already bustling teleportation centre the scent of warm bread from the bakery across the street filled his nose and brought him to full wakefulness, particularly his stomach. Already the poor of the city were lined up in front of a pair of guards and a stern looking elf filling mana gems for a handful of coppers, no doubt they’d be back in the evening once they’d had the chance to regenerate it. The queue shuffled forwards as the kid at the front scampered across the road to the bakery with a pair of coins clutched tightly in their fist.
The arched ceiling only intensified the hubbub, sweating orcs porting crates of goods bustled back and forth, bored city guards praying their jobs never became interesting were interspersed by elven guardians in gleaming bronze whose equipment looked like it had never seen combat but Trafin knew their levels would tell a very different story. Questioning gazes increasingly lingered on him as he progressed towards the command centre which abutted the wall of the elven enclave. He supposed he did stick out like a sore thumb in his ranger gear, though it was likely the only reason the guards hadn’t stopped him yet. This came to a head as a middle-aged elf rushed out from the command centre carrying a handful of mana crystals and almost slammed straight into him in his distracted state.
“Who are you? What business do you have at the command centre? Our work is too important to be interrupted by idle distractions so it better be important.”
Taken aback by the man’s sudden appearance and sharp manner he nevertheless replied quickly “I was invited to speak with Lady Phiro,” brandishing the letter he’d found when he eventually returned home last night.
“Lady Phiro…” the man’s eyebrows jumped up, “are you quite sure? She is exceptionally busy. Someone else may be able to-”
“He is expected.” An armoured elf stated with finality from by the door. “Please continue inside, Lady Phiro should not be kept waiting.”
With a nod to the guardian he strode past the shocked man and moments later found himself in a small but opulent office that seemed to be cleared of documents as an elderly woman began pouring a cup of tea. He was immediately shocked at her appearance, while it had been some years since he had last seen her, once full grey hair was now white and wispy and she seemed to have lost weight she couldn’t afford to lose, wrinkles covering her face and limbs being skin and bones. Despite all that her movements still exuded her usual precision and attention to detail and her green eyes were still sharp.
“Ah Trafin dear, it’s so good to see you.” She gestured to the chair opposite, “Please have a seat, business is brisk, even more since the lord’s recent correspondence, but there is time for some tea and a quick chat.”
“Mother, a pleasure to see you.” Trafin slid into the elegantly carved chair, “How are you?”
“Oh fine, I’m fine,” she brushed away his concern, “I’m much more interested in how you’ve been getting on recently. I hear you’ve had lots of adventures with this new dungeon and there are even rumours of a new class.” Trafin’s shock must have been visible on his face as she continued, “Ahh I see there is some truth to that rumour. Don’t be so shocked dear, walls have ears, particularly the walls of power.”
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Feeling like he was a child trying to keep a secret again he admitted with a frown, “Yes, last night I gained the [Tempest-touched Ranger] class, though I would appreciate if you didn’t spread that further than it apparently already has.” Visiting a priest to change your class or skills was supposed to be a deeply private affair, though it wasn’t unheard of to share details to those you trust later but he’d only seen Father Kieran last night and hadn’t had a chance to tell anyone but Sarge and report to Lord Krieger…
“Oh, a class with more focus on your air affinity I assume? That will be useful I’m sure, and don’t worry dear it’s hardly widely known,” patting his hand which only served to highlight how gnarled and bony her own had become.
Feeling more patronised than reassured he asked, “Given how well informed you are I’m not sure what I can tell you about the dungeon that you don’t already know. I know you’re busy, so I’ll just come out and ask; what am I here for mother?”
The venerable woman in front of him straightened and sighed, “I did want to hear from you dear but you’re right, things move apace and we should get down to business. I invited you here because of these,” from the desk drawer beside her she pulled out a tiny mana gem that he recognised as being from one of the skeletal rats.
“Are they too small to be useful?” Trafin asked confused.
“Quite the opposite dear. Mana gems of any size are of great use. Obviously larger is better,” she said with a wave, “but even this minuscule gem is extremely helpful to the elves. I’m limited in what I can say but I need you to understand, that even more than people realise, mana gems are deeply important to elven-kind. With that being said I’m sure you can work out what I’m going to ask you.”
“You’re asking me to protect the dungeon?” Trafin asked with incredulity, “That’s not my decision. The lord has final say…”
“You have more influence than you think with Lord Krieger and his council. I’m asking you to use it when you can. Now the word is out about the dungeon people are already traveling from all over to delve it.” She leaned in close, “Make sure none of them do something regrettable. This is a matter of life and death”
Trafin sprung to his feet, “You’re stooping to threats?” He exclaimed scandalised, “This discussion is over, goodbye mother.” He stormed towards the door only to rebound off the breastplate of the warrior who appeared in front of it.
Not caring for propriety anymore he identified them even as he heard the screech of the other chair, ???[??? Guardian](Spectrum){total lv 40-50}. More information than he expected but the relevant bit was that they were about double his level, fancy new class or not, this wasn’t a fight he could win. Even calling it a fight would probably be generous.
“Wait! That’s not what I meant, don’t do anything foolish.” His mother spoke quickly, hand outstretched.
His blood was up but with his next best option being suicide by elf, he responded, “Then prove it. Let me go. I don’t know what games or angles you’re playing but understand this; I swore an oath to serve Timberhollow as a ranger. If your plan aligns with that then I’m going to do it anyway, if it doesn’t…well I guess I’m about to find out what you’re prepared to do,” he threw a significant glance at the armoured elf who even through the helmet seemed to be trying to glare a hole through his head.
“Lady Phiro, allow me to…”
“Let him go.”
Trafin didn’t hesitate or look back, slipping past the [guardian] and out of the room and then the building.
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“My Lady, I don’t mean to be indelicate but are you sure that was wise?”
Lady Phiro looked up at her loyal guardian, feeling drops begin to form at the corner of her eyes and shakes that had nothing to do with her aged form come over her.
“He was about to fight Arryn, he knew he’d lose but he was about to fight for what he believed in and he thought me so callous I would have him killed. My own son.” A sob wracked her body as she began to fall back to her seat only for the strong arms of her friend to catch her. “Why were we cursed? What great crime did we commit that we should have to keep a secret that keeps us so separated from even the ones we love that they believe us capable of such things?”