[Elliot Springs][Session 3 - Level 1][Part 1]

[Elliot Springs] walked for another hour, and the sun began to set by the time the group saw the city walls in the distance. As the group got closer, they spotted wagons being checked as they rolled through the city gates. The wagons were loud; clanging metal and rumbling wood. The city had a thirteen foot tall wall with a fifteen foot tall archway at the gates. The group stopped behind one of the wagons and caught their breath.

“I’m sorry if this is rude. I don’t have much worldly experience. Moindan, you’re a dwarf, right?” Moindan nodded, looking a little confused at the question. “And Hircine, you’re a catfolk?”

“Yes, my kin and I were born in Jarn-Burg to the North, but my journey has brought me this way in search of work,” the white furred cat replied.

“Understood. And—well… ugh, I didn’t get your name.” Elliot stretched his hands towards the horned woman who was chained in manacles.

“Do you want to die?” She looked over at Elliot casually.

“No need to learn a lesserborns name,” Moindan said. Elliot hid the twinge of pain he felt. That word doesn’t sit right with him.

“What he means to say is that Melisandre here is an escaped slave. See, those with infernal heritage are considered dangerous. Note her demonic horns and her flame touched skin,” Hircine explained. “She is a devilkin, her family was touched by the lower planes years ago, and that infernal heritage still pollutes the bloodlines of hers and many families like hers through no fault of their own.” The Catfolk spoke like he was stating facts, but there was an underlying anger to his words that left Moindan glaring at him.

“You know the laws protect all of us.” The dwarf grunted and turned away from Hircine.

“We’re all the same,” Melisandre muttered.

“Oi, Hircine, what have ya brought with you?” a more masculine voice called out, Elliot turned to see another bearded dwarf.

“The escapee, a forester, and a good for nothing guard,” Hircine said.

“Hubby!” the guard called out and rushed forward to hug Moindan.

“Alright, okay!” He patted the guard on the back a few times before stepping back. “I’m still on duty, honey. I’ll come back and take watch with you until your shift is over once I’m done.”

“Okay.” The guard stepped back and looked at Elliot. “And who is this young man?”

Elliot’s eyes were wide like a deer caught in the headlights. His mind raced as he wondered if he could date both men and women. His father had not explained this to him.

“Nothin’ much. Just some adventurer types I found in the woods. He was surrounded by plant monsters, so I decided to help. Should send him Barg’s way, he might be useful," Hircine explained.

“Captain Faelin conscripted Elliot into assisting our hunt,” Moindan added.

“Oh, then I guess this is for you.” The guard held out the amulet with the silver wolf maw on it.

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“Thank the gods,” Elliot said as he took the amulet back. “And thank you Miss…”

“Mr. Meridyn,” the dwarf replied. “Of the Hillfoot—oh, wait. It’s ‘of the Silverforge’ now.”

He smiled and looked back at Moindan. He turned back to Elliot as he started to pick up what looked like a strange bundle of wood. The blight that he had carried all this way was barely recognizable as once being a humanoid thing.

“Whatcha got there, laddie?” Meridyn asked, leaning forward.

“A corpse,” Elliot replied, looking up at Meridyn. He shifted the corpse in his hands slightly, and the wooden face of the creature rolled forward to face the guard. The dwarf shivered.

“Oh, right. Okay, well you can take that to the barracks and get a reward for it most likely.” He stepped to the side showing the open gateway into the town. “I reckon it wasn’t too long ago that those creatures were docile when one would find them. Only in the last couple of years has something been really agitating them.”

“The barracks is at the center of town. I’ll get there a bit quicker to inform them of what happened and get your reward squared away.” Hircine patted Elliot on the shoulder before he quickly headed into town.

“And I need to get this prisoner squared away.” Moindan started pushing Melisandre through the gate.

“Yeah, I’ll see you around,” Elliot said.

The boy went through the gates behind Moindan and looked around in awe at the numerous buildings in town and cobbled streets that stretched out before him. There were few people out, since the sun had fully set. Street lamps lit the way through town. Every block, Elliot spotted people in tattered clothes sleeping in alleyways or under street lamps.

Elliot stopped in front of a building with a sign hanging over the door depicting pancakes. He set the corpse down to the side of the door, partially in an alleyway. He opened the door, and a little bell rang above the entryway. The people inside were drinking, talking, and enjoying hearty meals. Elliot took a seat at the counter on the far right towards the door to the kitchen. He noticed behind the bar the floor was raised a few feet higher.

A small woman walked out of the kitchen door. She was very small, maybe only three feet tall, and had large floppy ears that ended in points. She had her hair up in ponytails that curled from the side of her head. She clambered up a few steps and stood on the raised platform behind the bar. She locked eyes with Elliot.

“What do you need?” the woman asked in a kind, old voice.

“Alcohol, just a small glass of whatever is your strongest,” answered Elliot.

She raised a brow and grabbed a bottle from behind the counter. “A little young to start drinking for a human, aren’t you?” she asked, clearly lacking an understanding of human biology.

Elliot was thankful for that, as his parents would never let him be near spirits. She poured a small amount of alcohol into a small clay shot glass.

“Not the intended purpose,” he quickly said. He lifts his shirt up and unwraps his bandage.

“Should I be calling the guards?” the woman asked, stretching to peer over the counter.

Elliot ripped the branch out of his abdomen and set it on the counter—bloody, gross, and with bits of his flesh attached. He bit down on his other hand as he splashed the alcohol onto the wound, then wiped it off with the bandage.

“A branch?” The lady held the bloody branch up, looking it over. “You get in some kind of accident?”

Elliot gripped his amulet with one hand and then put pressure on his wound with the other hand. “Kyoor,” he muttered. His shoulders relaxed, and he removed his hand. His skin healed and the wound closed, but blood still stained his shirt and dripped down onto the floor.

“Who are you?” the woman asked, dumbfounded.

“Elliot. Thanks ma’am,” he said as he slowly stood from the barstool. A few people turned and watched him. He placed a gold coin on the bar. The woman scooped it up and brought it close to her face. Elliot turned and headed for the door.

“You can just call me Granny!” the little woman called out to Elliot as the door slammed closed behind him, marking the end of his night’s adventure to the tavern.