“If there’s anything you need, just let me know, dear,” the innkeeper said with a smile, setting the candle on the bedside table. Rania smiled wearily.
“Just a bath drawn up, if I may.”
“Not at all! I’ll have the boys bring up some hot water for you.”
“Thank you.” After the innkeeper had left, Rania released a long sigh and rubbed her face with a hand before going to the table, dropping herself gracelessly onto the chair. She rested her elbow on the table, cradling her head in her hand. I have been tracking him since he left his estate in Jorlaan and because of those undead, I lost him again. But no matter, I know where he is going. “Hmm,” she murmured to herself, “what should I do?” His sorcerer is powerful...there is no way that I can compete with that type of magic.
She glanced down at her leather gauntlets. In the inside center were three bright red jewels in a vertical line. On her other gauntlet, the jewels were a pearl white. The Calling Jewels were an elven design specifically for elves so as to avoid draining one’s life force as most magic required. There were sorcerers that had created similar gems for their staffs, but the gems required were rare and only found in the Tilusian Mountains and there were very few sorcerers that thought the trouble was worth it. Rania was not completely trained in her spells, as she had still been fairly young when her parents went missing and she had never entered tutelage in any other elven community. When she realized that her parents were gone, she had sorted through the remains of her village and gathered what she could carry for her trip and crossed the Tilusian Mountains and left the elven realm behind and trained herself based on the scrolls she had salvaged from the village.
Even though she had left her people’s realm behind her, she somehow suspected that her parents were not dead. It was a purely instinctual feeling and while all the evidence suggested otherwise, Rania felt, deep in her heart, that they were out there somewhere and she intended to find out what had happened to them. She knew that her parents would never have purposely abandoned her and so she began her work as a hired mercenary, hoping that her work would garner information to anything about elven captives. So far, she had gained very little except that there was string of strange disappearances amongst the humans that were still unexplained. There were no signs of a struggle, nor were there any signs of any type of creature capturing them. It was as if the people had left of their own volition.
Currently, Rania was working upon such a disappearance and her client, a well-to-do merchant in Jorlaan, believed that the High Duke of Jorlaan was connected to his daughter’s disappearance. Rania was unsure as to whether the duke was connected, but he certainly seemed to be involved in some mischief, having that sorcerer Alastair with him at all times. It was more difficult to track him because of that sorcerer. She was wary of drawing too close to them and she could sense a subtle magical field around them when they were together. When they were alone, neither the duke nor the sorcerer had any type of field around them. Even in his own home when they were together, the field remained. Her initial thought was that he was expecting an attack, but it did not make sense as to why the sorcerer would not permanently have one around the duke.
He is taking quite a few precautions, though, she thought, recalling the additional sorcerer and amount of knights that had accompanied him in the forest. When the bandits had attacked the entourage, she had hoped that they would have weakened the group enough that the undead would take care of the sorcerer for her, but it seemed that not even the undead could stop Alastair.
There was a knock on the door, rousing her from her thoughts, before the innkeeper opened the door, smiling kindly. “They’ve got the hot water for you, dear. Sorry for the wait.”
“No, no, it is fine.” After the men had poured the water into the marble tub, they left and the innkeeper explained how to drain it before leaving Rania alone once again. After securely locking the door, Rania undressed and slipped her aching body into the water. She scrubbed at the dirt and grime in her hair and on her body and paused, looking at her reflection in the water, reaching up to touch her pointed ears. Mother...I really do not belong anywhere, do I? Even here, I am afraid to reveal my race for fear of what the humans and other races would do to me... Sighing, she lowered her hands and then sank into the water so that only her face was not submerged.
Leaving her gloomy thoughts, she returned to thinking about what had happened last night. She had expected the undead to approach the carriages after the bandits had shed all that blood. The black magic was also likely a contributing factor. She had been stationed in a tree, using a simple spell to lift her from tree to tree, just in case those creatures attacked and so as to keep from drawing the knights’ attention. She wouldn’t have gotten involved at all if not for noticing that bandit get dragged away into the forest. She had hesitated briefly. She knew that the duke would be far away by the time she had gotten the man from the undead, but she had seen the results of their hunger and even though he was just a bandit, she knew that she would regret allowing them to feed on him.
It was a terrifying experience. She was not trained for that type of combat, especially with humans that had been previously unaware of the undead’s existence. She had done what little she could, having encountered them before in a southern swamp, but there had been far fewer of them then. Because of the amount of bloodshed and the group they were in, there were more that were attracted to them. If I had been able to control my emotions like I am supposed to, I would have been more level-headed in that situation, she reflected bitterly. She had seen her kind fight a horde of goblins and trolls, appearing as calm as if they were handling nothing more than a small, wild animal. She knew that she had hid her discomfort poorly and that Haemon had caught onto it. Since traveling in the human realm, she had not felt the need to control her expression as much, much less in stressful situations such as that. But I need to, she reminded herself. It is a skill that is useful in this line of work.
After draining the water and drying herself off, she sat on the bed and clasped her hands together, crossing her legs in meditation. Every night, she took this posture and tried to expel the high emotions within her to leave her in a calm, relaxed state. It was the first step to becoming master of one’s emotions and even though she thought that she would never be as good as others of her kind, she continued to do it every night so she could at least say she tried.
I have to try...for mother and father.
----------------------------------------
Haemon dragged a hand through his hair, his fingers bunching around it as he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked haggard. His usual healthy, caramel coloured skin was a sickly gray. The scars on his chin and hairline seemed to stick out more than ever. He knew that it was partially due to not being out in the sunlight for weeks, but he was certain it was also because of his injury. It had been several weeks since he had been wounded and while it had healed well, it still gave him a lot of pain. He had a feeling that the woman’s magic had accelerated the healing process because the wound was completely closed, yet he still had trouble with the pain. He supposed the muscle there hadn’t completely healed, but he was unsure.
“You look like hell,” Azael said conversationally as he stepped into the room. Haemon turned slightly, his mouth twisting unpleasantly. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” Haemon bit out.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Mind telling me that without looking like you’re possessed? Maybe I’ll believe you then.”
Haemon glared irritably at him, but made no remark, turning away from the mirror and going to the bed, sitting up on it, stretching his leg out in order to ease the pain. He released a long sigh, bitterly saying, “I can’t stand this.”
“It was an inhuman attack, Haemon,” Azael said patiently. “You should be lucky you’re even alive. You should be thankful that girl was there to help you otherwise you’d all have been dead.” Haemon chose to not immediately say anything to that, staring down at his thigh. He knew that Azael was right, but the reality was no easier for him. He had been one of the best bandits for some time now and had never run into any real trouble. True, he had gotten into some bad scraps – usually with other bandits from the eastern side of Sorra – and he had his scars to prove that he had been severely hit before, but it was nothing compared to this. He felt as though his leg was trying to rot off and he felt weak for once in a long time. He had been unable to protect his partners and had been unable to control that situation.
“What are our plans now that we know we can’t access Yarvuul Woods?” Haemon asked in order to change the subject. “We can’t survive on the small bits that we’re picking up here and the few clients that you agree to take are practically nonexistent. We’ve only got that one that wants that crystal in Jorlaan and that’s not going so well for anyone. We’re going to have to figure something else out, Azael.”
“This location has been good for us,” the latter male said slowly, propping his hands on his hips with a contemplative expression. “When you and I met in Sgarluun, we decided to set up in western Sorra because we knew these areas well...If we try to set up in eastern Sorra, we have the bandits and city thieves there to compete with and are unfamiliar with the cities over there.”
“There’s still tons of opportunity here, but we’ve got some obstacles that are in our way, that’s all. I wasn’t suggesting we pack up and move! We need to make a game plan to figure out how to bring in either more money or more clients.”
“We’re not damned mercenaries, Haemon!” Azael turned from him, frustrated. “I’ll not start working for someone. I’ve made a few exceptions because it paid well, but I’m not running a company here. We’re no better than common thieves in the city and I like it that way. That’s how we started this and I’ll not sacrifice it just to end up doing favors for nobles!”
They fell silent, lost in their respective thoughts. Haemon knew that his friend was aware of the type of trouble they were in. They had enough gold to last them for a bit, but some of their less loyal members might go to the eastern side of the continent to make a profit or, in many of their cases, return to the capitol city. Haemon knew that after the fiasco in the forest, nobody would be willing to patrol that path anymore, even though it had always been the more lucrative. One of the possibilities was to start spreading their forces farther north and south. For the current client Azael had allowed, it forced their members as far north as they could, since Jorlaan was only a few leagues from the Tilusian Mountains, the closest any city was to the impressive mountain range. If they moved their members down south, there was the threat of attack from the desert monsters in that area.
“I’ll figure something out,” Azael said at last. “I need some time to gather some information, find out what type of options we have available. In the meantime, that crystal in Jorlaan isn’t going to steal itself. As soon as you’re able, you should take care of it. Not right now, though,” he added sharply as Haemon twitched as though to rise to his feet. “Ezra is being absolutely stubborn, going off on her own and avoiding any type of activity here, so I can’t send her and everyone else isn’t able to find it. You’re the only one who hasn’t had a go at it.”
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“Something relatively safe and easy,” Haemon said with a smile. “It’ll be a welcome reprieve from my last adventure.”
“Not so easy if nobody else has succeeded.”
“Ah, but they’re not me, now are they?”
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Rania looked up from the blacksmith’s bench as a group of dirty-looking children ran past screaming. The blacksmith that was working on her sword looked up and shook his head in disgust. This place is swarming with thieves, she thought with a touch of surprise. She had always known that the capitol city, Keystun, had a problem with thieves, but she never knew that they were running around quite so openly. “Has the city always had such problems with thieves?” she asked the blacksmith.
“Not always,” he sighed, straightening and putting a hand behind his back, flinching from the cracks that sounded from his old bones. “With everything’s that’s been going on, though, the king and his aristocrats don’t care about the thief problem, especially down here. Most of their guards have been taken into the Inner Sanctuary.” When she looked confused, he elaborated, “It’s where the aristocrats live while they’re in the city – it’s near the castle. Damn near can’t get in without an invite. Because of the type of characters lurking around the city lately, they don’t let too many people close to the castle anymore.”
“That must hinder trade somewhat, yes?”
“Oh, they’ll let visiting merchants in,” the blacksmith, Deon, said with a shake of his head, “but they have merchant passes, so it’s easy to identify them from the common low-goods trader.” He eyed her, saying, “If you’re trying to get into the castle, don’t bother. They only let their own kind in.” He rubbed a weary hand over his face. “Anyway...I’ll have your sword ready tomorrow, but I’m afraid this body isn’t able to work as long as it used to...”
“That is quite alright,” she assured him smoothly. “I trust your skills, I hear you are one of the best in Sorra.”
“I was,” he corrected her, “but I’m getting old now.” He seemed to lose himself in his thoughts, as though troubled by something. Rania watched him for a moment thoughtfully. She could always tell when someone was having a trouble, it was one of the few ways that she was able to pick up tasks for her work. However, she did not typically pick up other leads while already on a job, but she doubted it was anything too erroneous.
“Is there something amiss?” she asked him at last.
“Ah, no...it’s fine.” He smiled sadly and turned away from her, cleaning up his area. “Come back in the afternoon tomorrow, your sword should be ready.” Rania eyed him a moment and then turned, leaving him to his devices. She adjusted her robes a bit before heading down the narrow, cobble-stoned street. In spite of being one of the best blacksmiths on the continent, Deon was in a strange part of town. She would have expected him in the merchant quarters closer to the castle, but he had situated his shop closer to the docks, where there was high crime. It hadn’t appeared as though he was roughed up, so he must at least be well-respected. Yet he doesn’t even have an assistant or any family, Rania reflected. The shop itself was large enough to have held a family, though. Perhaps there was an accident or some sort of sickness? Surely he wouldn’t have bought that big of a shop just for himself. Rania supposed that whatever was troubling him had to do with familial issues, which were usually straightforward. He knew she was a mercenary, so he, like everyone else, would consider over the possibility of hiring her. Her services were not cheap, though, so he would certainly take that into account.
Temporarily dismissing it, Rania continued down the cobbled street, her eyes skimming over the buildings. Many of the buildings here were gray and worn from the ocean winds blowing in from the eastern coast. It wasn’t dirty and unpleasant like the darker portions of the city, however, and was fairly clean. There were a few shops and stands here and there and around one of the stalls a group of children were standing, listening to a tall man talk loudly over what he claimed were magic potions. Initially, Rania’s eyes skimmed over the stall and the man uninterestedly and then she paused, noticing the long shawl wrapped over his head and familiar features. She crept forward next to the few adults listening and after the man had sold a few of the potions and the crowd dispersed, Rania approached the stall with a disapproving expression. “I see you are profiting from your scams here, as well.”
“Ah, Rania, you wound me,” he said with a smile, straightening. “I promise you that my potions work just as they are designed. Dare I ask why you are here in the capitol?”
“Fulfilling a business arrangement.”
“I was afraid of that,” he sighed. “Do you have a moment to speak at a nearby inn? I think I may have some information that you will find useful – if you are willing to pay the right price.” She scowled at him. Kethren had been useful for information once before, but she was wary of paying any type of money to him given his shady business dealings. He had left the elven realm long before her, in secret, and had been well-trained in alchemy, but she knew very little of him besides that. He had purposely avoided her questions into his reasons for leaving the elven realm and why he hadn’t stayed within the realm to sell his potions there. She had to remind herself that she, too, had been very vague in her own reasons for not remaining within the elven realm with their people.
“Give me the information first and then we can negotiate it’s worth.”
Kethren subjected her to a shrewd look and then inclined his head, accepting her terms. She waited as he gathered his things and closed the stall before gesturing for her to follow him. Whereas Rania found it easier to blend in with human communities, she suspected that it was more difficult for Kethren and that his merchant face exhausted him. When she last saw him in the southern markets, he had seemed visibly tired by the end of the night and almost relieved to have a deadpan, controlled face, as if displaying so much feeling was too taxing.
The inn they approached was part of a collection of businesses and shops that were displayed in an oval with multiple streets leading to and from it. Rania flicked a look around the open space, noticing that it seemed strangely empty without many carriages or even trees, as if to keep it open from attacks. Tucking the place in the back of her mind just in case, she went inside the inn with Kethren. There were quite a few people at the bar, where a busty woman was serving the customers. There was a male bard near the bar, his lyre hanging cheerfully over his shoulder as he flirted with her carelessly, oblivious to the glares the other men at the bar sent him. “I will get us some drinks,” Kethren told her. She nodded and proceeded to the back of the inn, settling at a table gratefully. She sighed heavily, leaning back in the seat and glancing around. There weren’t many people in there that weren’t at the bar. There was another woman serving a travel-worn couple some food, but she was older than the barmaid.
“Humans,” Kethren mumbled in exasperation when he joined her, settling across from her. He set the tankards on the table. “I can guarantee that one of those fools is going to act out of jealousy.”
“Most likely, given the type of looks the bard was receiving,” she agreed, taking a drink from the tankard of ale. “But let us get on topic. What information have you managed to gather that might be of use to me? And, more importantly, how did you know I was here on business?”
“First, I feel that I should advise you that there have been many mercenaries that have been coming to the city. Most of them have been locked up or killed for assassination attempts on many of the aristocrats and, in one case, the king. It is one of the reasons that security is so tight near the castle right. I suspected that you must have had some sort of business deal that was related to one of those parties, but perhaps I am mistaken?”
“No, my contract is nothing quite so lethal,” she replied with a frown, “but where are all of these requests coming from? Out of the capitol?”
“Nobody knows. It is rare to have so many here with similar targets. It has caused some paranoia amongst the nobility.” Kethren paused to drum his long fingers on the table, watching the bar with a distant stare. “These aristocrats...they know that they deserve to be assassinated,” he continued slowly. “It is an unfortunate system of corruption...but does it warrant this type of sudden reaction? I feel very doubtful of that. What about your current contract? Anything that might be related?”
She gave a faint shake of her head. “I am fairly certain that mine is unrelated to these happenings. My client is a merchant and it is mere coincidence that a member of the aristocracy is even involved.”
“I am sure, then, that you have also noticed many of the dukes have employed sorcerers as their guards. Might I guess that yours is the High Duke of Jorlaan?”
“What makes you so certain of that?”
“It seems that the sorcerer is aware of someone tracking them, but has yet to develop any leads upon who it might be.” Kethren leaned forward a bit, his eyes glittering intensely. “This is a strange world that we are working in right now, Rania. That sorcerer...there have been rumors floating around about him and the court sorcerer, but I will not repeat most of them, as some are blatantly false, thrown out to cause a panic.”
“Alastair is a force to be reckoned with,” Rania admitted steadily, surprising Kethren. “I have been watching him. He is rather unusual, but far too powerful for me to handle on my own, if at all.” She moved a hand up, turning it so her hand was palm up. Kethren glanced down at her gauntlet, but said nothing. “If I had been able to complete my training, I may have been able to hold my own, but as it is...” She shook her head and raised her eyes back to her companion. “I am more interested to know whether you think this man is helping the aristocracy out of greed or if he is a willing participant to the things that they have done.”
“It is hard to say. He and the court sorcerer, I have heard, are of dissenting opinions on most things and has led to a good deal of friction between the High Duke of Jorlaan and the royal family because each of them are loyal to their own sorcerers. They trust their opinions.”
If I could get Alastair out of the way, then it would make my part of this contract easier... “If I am mistaken, was it not the case that those sorcerers were chosen by the court sorcerer?” she asked instead.
“That is the interesting bit...Alastair was already set up in Jorlaan. He made a decent business there – an honest business – and the High Duke seems to be the most paranoid of all the aristocrats and was fearful that the court sorcerer was in charge of these assassinations and thought he was going to get killed if chosen by someone besides himself. His reasons for choosing to help the High Duke are, as far as I can see, unknown. He is a rather private individual.”
“You seem to know quite a bit of the High Duke...why is that?”
“It is simply how information comes to me,” Kethren told her, his face swept clean of any thought, one that she had learned to read well over the years of living with her elven family.
She took a drink from her tankard, gazing at him over the top of it thoughtfully. “Who are you allied with, Kethren? You say you are traveling alone, but I suspect you have your own motives for being here besides mere money.”
“Perhaps,” was his obscure reply, “but my reasons for being here do not pertain to your own issue at hand. Even if they did, that would take coin you do not have.”
A corner of her mouth tilted up. “No worries, I have not enough interest to pay for such information, anyway. Anything else that you think would be of interest to me?”
“Just one last thing.” He dug around in his pack that had his things from his stall and when he straightened up, a commotion had started near the bar. He glanced over his shoulder and Rania drained her tankard, glancing over it to see two of the men ganging up against the bard, who had his fists up in a defensive gesture. The bar maid had become uninterested and had turned away to speak to one of the other men. “It is too bad we had not made a bet on it,” Kethren remarked conversationally, laying a scroll on the table.
“That is not a bet that I would have taken.” She reached out and took the scroll, rolling it around in her hands. “What is this?”
“Something I have been carrying for some time. It may be useful to you since you were unable to finish your training. Wait until you are alone to open it,” he added as her fingers went to the strings keeping it secured. Her gaze flickered to him and then she nodded, tucking it away in her satchel, digging out a few coins and dropping them on the table. He took them and then raised an eyebrow at her. “This is more generous than your usual sum.”
“You were more generous in your information than usual,” she replied mildly.
“Very well.” The coins disappeared somewhere beneath his cloak. “Have you a place to stay yet while in the city?”
“Not yet, although I do not plan to stay long. It will be useless for me to try and investigate them while they are in the city. I think a trip back to Jorlaan would be wise while I know that they are otherwise occupied.” He nodded slowly.
“That may be the best action for now. I plan to stay here for some time. If it is more convenient, you are welcome to share my lodgings with me.”
Rania had been watching the two men beat on the bard while talking but glanced at her companion at the suggestion, but his expression was as blank as before. He had made the suggestion last time as well and she knew his intentions well since it was clear that he had no interest in human women given the type of derogatory remarks he made upon them. Rania was likely the only elven woman he had come into contact with since he had left their realm. She had been so single-minded that the idea of intimacy had never crossed her mind. It was never anything she had been given the chance to share because she had been so at odds with her people while living with them. While she and Kethren had never shared much personal information with each other, he was the first elf that she had felt any type of real kinship. “Thank you, I would appreciate that.”
He smiled and stood up. “Then we should be going.”