After getting up the next day I went by Arla’s place again. I was not surprised that she still was not there or at least not answering so I headed over to Crai’s. His home was covered in ornate woodwork writhing up the pillars and corners of his house. The yard littered with detailed statues of animals in different poses, making it look like a bunch of animals had been frozen and left on his yard. I shook the macabre thought from my head. The statues were impressively detailed, made more impressive that he encouraged kids to play on them, several of the statues wore worn ears and rub spots like badges, evidence of the caress of many little hands. A large bear stood, huge paws raised, its belly full of pockmarks from the many, many fatal blows from many a daring little hero.

I knocked on the open door’s frame and walked in. Crai stood from a squat a little further in the room, an odd tangle of wood that seemed to end in the kind of foot you would see on a dresser or table could be seen just beyond where he stood. He turned and seeing me, smiled, the sharp elven contours of his face giving it odd angles to those used to human faces. I understand his smile is unsettling to some which made me wonder if anyone found my smile odd, being a half elf. No one has mentioned it, but I suppose no one would.

I waved at Crai and smiled back. He wiped his hands, coming forward. “Welcome Baz, what brings you to my humble home?” I looked around “I wish I had a home that was as humble as yours,” Grimacing I amended “or possibly even just had a home.” I shook my head. Crai laughed good naturedly “Give it time, cousin, and thank you. You flatter me.” He looked me up and down “You did not come here to just flatter me though, did you?” He cocked his head, looking at me inquisitively. “You are correct, cousin.” I returned. I found it easy to slip into elven speech patterns when I spoke with another elf. They were wordy and claimed a familial relation to every other elf in the world, though not all of them would claim that bond with a half breed. Crai has just always been a good guy, which made me feel even worse for what I was about to do.

“You had a loan, penned and held by Garen Silversmith, until his death.” Crai blinked at me. I had his undivided attention. “This loan passed to his son, Evan who forgave the loan just prior to being drug off by Garen, rose as a zombie.” Crai blinked at me in surprise and then sat, his brow furrowing as he absorbed this. “That is surprising.” He murmured. I waited, after a bit he seemed to come to himself. He looked me up and down calculating but not unkind. “Ah.” He finally said. “Cousin, you look for a killer and a necromancer. You will find neither here.” He finished tightly. I had thought he might become angry but he looked guarded, almost fearful. I did not doubt what he said, but he was an elf, there was something else being said though not with words.

His countenance softened and he continued “I did not know of Evans disappearance. Nor did I know he had forgiven the loan.” He paused for a moment, lost in thought, when he continued it was as though he were speaking to himself. “When I arrived here I stumbled into the poor quarter, lost and dazed. A poor wretch. I took many trips into the wood, visiting home if you will. The forest lord came to me while I was on one of these trips bearing a branch. The most beautiful branch I had ever seen. He gave it to me, bid me carry it to the Silversmiths. It was still alive. It radiated life, so much so my skin tingled being near it. Where it touched my fingers felt afire.” He said looking at his hands, moving his fingers as though he expected to see sparks of energy come from them.

I wonder where this is going, but… he is an elf. I waited a moment and then asked. “How did the forest lord bid you take the branch to the Silversmiths, did he speak to you?” Crai blinked, like he just remembered I was there. He shook his head, “No. It was simply an image in my mind.” “Why did you need to take the branch to the Silversmiths?” I asked. He said “They used the wood to form weapons. A sad necessity at the time, weapons that radiated life, such a sad contrast.” He shook his head which gave me a chance to adjust my thoughts and remember that Crai, like the dwarves was around near the foundation of the village. Crai continued “I discovered that since that day, wood melds in my hands, like clay. It’s hard, slow work, but very satisfying.” He looked at his hands. “After a while I realized that I could make things for people and was sure my work would be desired but I lacked the means to get the work out, or a place to work at.”

I looked at him. “You went to Garen, who knew of your work and gave you a loan.” Crai nodded. “Did you have any idea how badly that loan was written?” Crai shook his head “He seemed so nice. He told me I could pay with a piece of my work instead of money if I needed. He told me he liked my work and wanted to write in that he could also ask for a piece instead of payment. At the time it seemed innocent and simple. I was still not sure I would make money with my work.” I nodded and asked “Except he demanded more and more of your work instead of payment, a work that takes you a long time, taking you away from paying customers.” Crai nodded sadly.

“Why didn’t you try to get the loan redone?” I asked “I did!” He said, frustration plain in his voice. “I went to the Mayor. He told me there was nothing he could do directly, but he would talk to Garen for me. Garen’s next request was a desk that he asked me to deliver to the Mayor.” I shook my head. “Is that when you decided to hire someone to get you out from under this loan?” I asked. Crai’s face contorted in confusion “What! No!” he said “You did have a good reason to be angry with him.” I countered quickly. It seemed as though there was something he was still hiding and I hoped to get that out of him.

“The man got me my start! He was slick, tricky and greedy, yet I would not have gotten my business started without his loan, advice and connections. Sometimes you have to take the bad with the good. I told Arla the same when she..” He trailed off suddenly and looked away from me. “Arla found out that your loan circumstances were like hers and came to you.” He nodded tersely, reluctantly, still looking away. “She wanted your cooperation in getting rid of Garen.” He sighed, his shoulders sagging “I told her no good could come of it.”

”Did she say who she contacted to do the work?” He shook his head “No one. She planned to do it herself. She was going to start training for the event.” He replied in defeated tones. “She started training to be a necromancer? And you said nothing??” I asked, shocked. Crai smiled wistfully, “No, cousin. I may apparently be daft but I am not morally compromised.” he said. “I counseled that if she wanted vengeance she should be the one to deliver it and while skilled in many things she was not ready for this. She decided training in the arts of subterfuge, stealth and building an understanding of the weak points in a body was her way.

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I would not have stood by while someone practiced the necromantic art. Necromancy is a seductive art, leading those who touch it further and further into its web, while the path she chose was that of lengthy and hard training, balancing her life and trying to keep her intent hidden. My hope was that it would be too much. She would give up her plan, become distracted and loose her anger. Humans tend not to hold to a path of change very long.” I agreed, nodding.

“But you didn’t tell anyone of her plans?” He smiled gently at me “I’ve kept an eye on her. If there were any danger I would’ve spoken up. She has become somewhat stealthy for a human but nowhere near what she needs. She ventures from her house seldom and visits fairly frequently with Evan. It seems as though she has given up on her vengeance.” I stood “Thank you for your hospitality and allowing me to do my job.” He nodded “A job you continue although your employer is jail. Your dedication is commendable.” That stopped me cold. He saw my look “Oh. You didn’t know.” I shook my head waiting for him to start laughing at his joke, but his expression simply became embarrassment at his social slip. “What happened?” I asked. Skandro has started briefing people on what is happening, answering questions, you know. It’s smart. He’s trying to control the panic, let people know what is happening rather than hearing inflated rumors. In this last meeting someone noted that he stood to gain the bank as the group turned mob his guard arrested him and threw him in jail on suspicion of being a necromancer.” I shook my head muttering to myself. “He knew it was likely someone would pick up on that.”

We were interrupted by a knock at the door. A young, gangly teenage girl was at the door. Crai got up and walked over to her, a light smile playing at his lips.

“Hello Emily” he said. She smiled at him and while she danced in place handed him one of the letters she was holding. “Evan asked me to give you this today.” My head snapped up “Evan asked you to deliver this?” She pulled a sweet from her mouth and regarded me curiously, then nodded. “When did you speak with him?” I asked. “Last Night.” She said shrugging “He said he tried, but he couldn’t bring himself to face a man his family had wronged. He asked that I bring this to Crai sometime today.”

I nodded in answer while thinking. “Are you a friend of Evan’s?” I asked. She gave me a look like I had sprouted a second head “Evan doesn’t have any friends.” She parroted, mimicking Evan’s voice, making her face look mock-stern. “At least that’s what he told me.” She stated flatly then her face softened. “I tried to be his friend for a while. I felt bad for him. No one wants to get close to him. Everyone’s afraid of ‘Grim’s Curse’ so they won’t go near him.” Her expression softened looking wistful. “He’s actually really sweet” She paused and defiance crept into her expression “There’s no curse. He’s just a lonely guy that’s lost so much and people are just mean.” She popped her candy back in her mouth angrily. “He and I would go to Silver Brook. He likes it there cuz it’s quiet. His pop had it set up to cover his orders. The food’s nice there. I got him to go to The Stag once, but he didn’t like it. Too much noise and people.” She paused in her ramble “Anyway, headin to The Stag. Arla’s BACK!” she nearly screamed almost prancing. This is the first time she’s played in years!” She stilled, the toe of her shoe idly tracing patterns in the dust. “I’m gonna see if Evan will go. He’ll fuss but I think I could get him to go with me.” She saw Crai and I exchange glances. Her face twisted up in anger. “Don’t be like that!” She stamped. “He’s a good person!” Crai held his hand up to forestall her. “We are not judging, Emily. I’m sorry. Garen rose as a zombie and carried off Evan.” She looked from Crai to me several times, the breath rushing out of her as though she’d been punched. Head hanging she stood there leaning slightly forward, her hair creating a curtain around her face. Crai got up and walked over to her. Tears splashed on the ground. As he pulled her to him a croaking groan escaped her “Noooo.” Quiet sobs shook against him a moment, her arms dangling loosely at her sides as though she were unaware of Crai. After a moment she pushed away from him, wiping her face with her arm. “I guess they can’t hurt him anymore.” her voice cracked. The sentence ended in a sniffle. She shook her head. “I… just wanted to try to cheer him up.” She sniffled. “I’m so stupid!” Crai knelt down in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder. “You were being sweet. I’m sure he would’ve appreciated that.” She stamped angrily, shaking her head she said “I don’t want to go to see Arla now. I lost someone who wouldn’t even call me a friend! He lost his dad!” turning she fled back the way she came. Crai and I watched her go. Crai sighed heavily and returned to his seat.

Crai was concentrating intently on the note as though he were having difficulty reading it. “What’s the note say?” “Evan gave back all of the furniture Garen requested for himself. He says it’s all in the entryway of the Silversmith home, waiting for me to take it back.” He looked at me “I know the boy is trying to put things right, but I don’t sell items. I take commissions to craft items to specification.” He shook his head “Tis a fine gesture and much appreciated. I just need to figure out how to handle it.” I smiled at Crai “I could help you. You keep doing what you do best, and I will find buyers for you. It’s something I have a skill at.” Thinking back to my time in the city. I feel like I spent most of my time running and getting beaten, but I made a few contacts.

Crai smiled at me. “I would appreciate that. While I do trust family you have counselled me to exercise caution and so I will. I would still like to know of the sale before it happens and have the option to approve or deny the sale.” I nodded “Of course. That’s only sensible. You will see all paperwork and have final say on each sale. Thank you for allowing me to work with you on this. I will be back later to talk through it” I said “Right now I’m going to pay a visit to Arla.” I stood. Crai’s hand caught my wrist in an iron grip. I could feel the tingle he spoke of. I glanced down at his hand in surprise. Mistaking my surprised look for anger he drew his hand back. “Sorry cousin. I merely wanted to tell you that Arla’s dealings with Garen were much worse than mine.” I nodded. “I had already planned on talking with Arla, she will have a chance to defend herself.” I said. Crai looked down nodding. As I left he remained seated, lost in thought. I’d never questioned Skandro or his motivations but I wondered how deep he was in all of this. These loans would’ve been reviewed by him.