~
Turning a corner in the road we came out of the trees into the cleared area around the town stockade and faced Corbond’s night gates, they were indeed still open, welcoming all into the town beyond.
“So how hungry are you?” Jondris asked.
The deep rumbling of my stomach answered for me and we decided to call in at the Wild Boar Tavern where we had eaten many times before, I knew the meals were always fabulous for they catered for many individual tastes and I loved the buzz of the place, there was always something going on and the clientele were always interesting.
We passed through giving a nod to the guards leaning upon their weapons at either side. Corbond was a pleasant little place. As with most human townships within Gel’Te’Ertenya or the Great Wood as Jondris would call it, only humans lived here permanently but representatives of other races at times could be seen within its boundaries and so parts of the town were designed to house these other races.
We made our way through the various streets towards the centre of town and eventually there in front of us we spied the Wild Boar Tavern across the other side of a wide square around which a wide earthen roadway ran. In the centre of the square a massive tree stood, is trunk many tens of metres in diameter and its boughs reaching far over the buildings around the square. The Tavern itself must be a strange looking place for those that don’t know it, for although from the ground and second story perspective it looked much like any other human dwelling, if you looked above the roof there could be seen little cottages nestling in amongst the thick branches of the ancient tree growing above. These houses were built with the T’Iea’ Tarderi in mind, those of us the humans named Wood Elves, for long ago we discovered this to be a necessary thing to stay clear of enemy’s both natural and contrived. However, I knew that none of these lofty dwellings were permanently populated by T’Iea, for sadly none of my race lived here in Corbond, I was the only one and I had not seen any of my kin in many years. I loved these little cottages which could be accessed via a web of interlinked rope and slatted walk ways, and sloping wooden gang ways led down to ground level here and there. I stood looking up in admiration for them, they reminded me of my father’s house many leagues away in the T’Iea township of K’Reselnare. John tugged gently on my arm to get me moving again and we entered the Tavern at ground level through the front door.
Immediately upon entering my ears filled with the noise that was ever present within the Wild Boar. Many people populated the main bar that evening; the general hubbub was already well under way so at first we had a little trouble finding a seat let alone a table. I always had a preference to sit as far away from the bar itself as possible where there was less hustle and bustle, for immediately around and along the bar there always seemed to be tightly packed groups of people all laughing and joking, telling tales and swapping news. Inevitably ale was spilt and I always seemed to be the target for a wayward flung elbow or knee, or my feet would suffer from being trodden on by a large human boot. Not that any of this was intentional, but never the less I preferred to give the area a wide berth.
After waiting near the front door for a table to be vacated, the inn keeper eventually indicated a place which had become free. He immediately asked one of his serving girls, one of his many daughters I believe; attend to our order whilst the innkeeper himself busied himself with tidying and mopping up back behind the bar whilst enjoying the latest gossip from his regular clientele.
Jon and I had been sitting and talking in the tavern bar for some thirty minutes or so whilst enjoying our first course of vegetable soup when the front door was opened slowly, allowing the cool evening air to enter. A welcome breeze, clearing the stuffiness and rejuvenating the taverns normal atmosphere of stale sweat, burning wood and spilt ale. The gentle sounds from the village beyond filtered into the room. As always all eyes turned to the doorway, I heard a small disturbance from one of the guests cursing some spilt ale, the cussing distracted me a little.
But when my eyes returned to the entrance I found my attention drawn to a curious figure seemingly floating into the room, almost as if the gentle refreshing breeze had blown them in lightly and without a sound. The figure was closely followed by a pure white Wolf of large proportions; it slipped silently into the tavern around the figure whose hand came to rest on the Wolf’s shaggy back. The impressive animal looked around quickly. In seconds its dark eyes scanned every aspect and detail of the place as well as each of the inhabitants. It glanced at me briefly and the depth of those eyes left me with the impression that something had peered momentarily into my very soul. Most of the guests I noticed turned back to their drinks as there was no obvious aura of threat or surprise presented. But I found my attention remained on the new comer, why I could not fathom. I shivered slightly. The door shut and the wooden latch was dropped with a dull clunk, the only sound since the door had opened.
My interest grew, for the figure seemed unique because of the lithe purposeful movement of the body as they walked across the room. They then reached up with gloved hands and slowly removed the well weathered hood that was covering the head. This revealed an elegant T’Iea’Tarderi female, her well defined features lovely to behold, her platinum coloured hair, fine and long, dressed in tresses interleafed with herbs and flowers and small leaves from plants that inhabit the wilds. All of this adornment was tied in intricate patterns that only my T’Iea’Tarderi sub-culture has mastered in its long and ancient traditions.
I gasped, intrigued that another of my own race should appear in the tavern, for it had been a long time since I had seen any of my people. With an almost indiscernible motion of the newcomer’s hand, the wolf sat by the door, seemingly acting out of well-practised design rather than by any form of obedience. The innkeeper started to speak, I felt my heart sink as I was sure he was going to protest and make it quite clear that he did not intend to entertain animals from the wilds in his establishment. But the T’Iea’Tarderi maiden stared at him with piercing eyes, something cut off his words and he lowered his gaze mumbling something incomprehensible as he made to resume his activities behind the bar. I felt quite smug at this reaction for I was very much in the minority here and it felt good to see a form of respectful behaviour exhibited towards one of my own kind.
The ranger, for ranger she must be, stood still but remained alert, her muscles slightly tensed ready to respond to any need. She glanced around the room, her eyes lingered momentarily on mine, they were a piercing jade green in colour, clear as crystal. She resumed her walk across the floor, her eyes remained on me as she removed her gloves revealing slender hands and agile fingers. All sounds from the tavern seemed to fade away and all my senses focussed upon this person. I tore my gaze from hers and looked down. Two fingers on her right hand were still enclosed within the deer skin tabs that protect them from the high tensions of drawing on a heavy longbow. Reaching up with this hand she unfastened a single golden neck clasp fashioned in the form of the figure of a woodland sprite. Slowly her travelling cloak pitted with the mud and grime of long travel was removed from her shoulders. The cloak was hung on a hook on the far tavern wall behind her. Removal of the cloak revealed a garb of the most wonderful metallic chain armour. The ring mail was expertly worked so that it seemed to move in complete harmony with every muscle. Intricate designs depicting the heavens could be seen around each cuff and the neck and I noticed each clasp fastening down the front was designed with that of a double headed axe motif, strange I thought for this was a design associated with the race of the Grûndén not something you would expect a T’Iea to be wearing. Her long platinum hair, now completely free of its confinement within the cloak and hood, cascaded over her shoulders and down her back ending in a point at the base of her spine.
Finding a spare place at the table but remaining standing, the ranger with a slow purposeful movement crossed her arms and reaching down, withdrew a matching pair of elegant, curved short swords from their scabbards. As she did so, the fine steal blades
rang with a metallic singing, she placed them close by upon the table. As she relinquished her grip from upon the pommels of each sword, my eyes were drawn to the intricate arcane designs etched upon the blades, each T’Iea rune seemed to dim and become slightly less discernible as compared to when the blades were first set down. My attention then went toward the bronze coloured vambraces she wore upon each of her forearms. The material from which they were fashioned, after glowing brightly when the short swords were first removed, noticeably dulled as if the remoteness of the swords now on the table top had quenched some need or desire.
Next, her longbow, also heavily rune-etched and crafted of the darkest ebony coloured wood was slid from its place across her back and placed within easy reach, leaning against the wall behind her. A quiver made from what looked like some kind of thick but expertly worked animal hide was also removed along with the belt on which it was slung around her waist and after sitting down, placed carefully upon her lap. I saw curiously large feathers hung from the rim of the quiver, along with some enormous scythe-like black claws, from what unimaginable beast these originated I could not guess. These claws were mounted into finely fashioned sliver clasps. Also discernible amongst the feathers set around the lip of the quiver were several jet black glossy stones that seemed to suck in the very light from around them, like water flowing down a small hole. There were arrows held within the quiver, I could discern the nocks and fletching, but it was difficult to guess how many, they seemed to have a translucent look, each moved through and around its neighbour with an almost fluid appearance as if they were present only partly within. I gasped again, for I guessed this quiver to be a now rare example of the ancient skills of the T’Iea artisans of old. Such items were famously crafted by my ancestors in my home town of K’Reselnare, a fine example of the products for which that city was once renowned. I felt a pride well up in my breast, but was also slightly disappointed that such skills were not so common place in these latter days. I wondered at the obvious high value of such an item and also wondered how this ranger had come by such a thing. In fact everything she had seemed special in some way and no doubt immensely precious.
Generally T’Iea rangers, or their human counterparts of which I had seen many in my time here in Corbond had a mercenary reputation. They earned their keep through private contracts, but none I had seen were so lavishly kitted out as this one. She must be good I thought to have the financial capability to afford such things. But whatever the race, rangers spent many months at a time alone in the wilds not being seen or heard from for long periods of time and some became raucous when back in civilised company, excelling in the consumption of ale and other distractions from which they were obviously starved whilst away. Alternatively, the great periods of solitude would result in their keeping themselves to themselves thus generating an aura of suspicion. But anyway, being a T’Iea’Tarderi myself I thought differently. I knew that within the annals of the history of my people, rangers had a reputation of being fearless in battle, their skill with a long bow a legend. I planned to watch this ranger as I secretly placed a bet as to which category she would fall into.
Looking around at the assembled faces the ranger allowed a faint smile to brighten her full lips and she nodded in greeting to the open mouths surrounding her. Many faces leered back, her radiant beauty was gathering much attention, mostly bad I feared. But she seemed not to notice the level of interest she was generating.
But then a T’Iea sitting on a bench opposite in the shadows, whom I had not noticed before, leant forward showing his smiling features for the first time that evening. His skin a swarthy brown, his hair the deepest black, long and straight tucked back around his ears hanging almost to his waist. His eyes a rich deep dark blue. He wore a white linen shirt trimmed with much embroidery which also ran down the length of each sleeve, a typical T’Iea’Denarin style of artwork. Over this he wore a sleeveless dress coat of rich looking material, possibly velvet or some other cloth far beyond my meagre means. This was also trimmed in ornate embroidery with depictions of leaves and other herbal motifs. Yes, definitely a high elf.
The white wolf stirred across by the door, it slowly came to a position that saw it half standing upon its massive haunches, obviously ready to accelerate forward at a moment’s thought, it was also curling its upper lip in a most menacing fashion, showing a hint of long, ivory coloured fangs. Perhaps it also disliked the attention the ranger was getting.
The Inn keeper broke the silence, he waved a towel towards the wolf and said, “’ere I ‘ope that dog ‘o yees be tame’n an’ be under control thar’, I dun’t wan’ any injured customer spreadin’ any bad mouth ‘bout my place, you ‘ear me ranger.”
Neither the wolf nor the ranger seemed to take any notice of him. The wolf’s gaze was locked intently upon the second T’Iea whose smile flinched ever so slightly, as if a moderately forced blow had been struck across his face. But he gathered himself and continued his purpose after the merest pause. He offered the ranger a small golden goblet which he drew from the confines of his coat, the goblet matched the one he had in front of him already, and without breaking eye contact with the ranger, he proceeded to fill the second goblet from the bottle he has obviously been drinking from. A knowing expression upon his face as he said in a high born T’Iea accent, “Serinae. It has been a while.”
The Wolf settled once more onto the floor, this time placing its huge head between its forepaws, it gave out a deep bass, almost inaudible growl, as it continued to look intently at the high elf.
The bar tender shook his head from side to side a few times and then went back to polishing the goblet in his hands, he seemed to become aware that he was releasing his breath, held since the high elf announced his presence from out of the shadows.
The ranger stared at the offered goblet, then slowly reaching forward to grasp the offered drink, she returned her gaze to the high elf. Serinae, I was pleased to overhear her name, sipped from the goblet. She seemed to savour the flavour as if tasting the contents for the first time in her life, she never took her eyes from the high elf though, who finding he could return her unflinching stare no longer lowered his eyes to look at his own goblet upon the table.
After a pause in which an expression of deep satisfaction crossed her face a response, “Hello Tezrin, you took some finding, my friend, I congratulate you on your stealth and skills in hiding.” She raised her goblet as if saluting him, but I detected a sensation of mockery in the action.
Tezrin smiled in return and replied, “I must admit, I am surprised, but pleasantly so, to see you again Seri.”
Serinae leaned forward slightly, “Tezrin,” came the reply in a slightly sarcastic sounding tone, “it does not take much imagination to guess you would eventually end up back here in Gel’Te’Ertenya.”
A slight darkening of Serinae's features and a narrowing of her eyes revealed what looked like subdued anger. It didn’t look like this anger would need much coaxing to boil over. “You hired me to track that filthy goblin man clear across all the Eastern Plains. After I had found my way across the high passes of the Tolle’Fornosse’Veetri it took eighty days of false trails, and second guessing to find the goblin and run him down in that waste land. You know what that was is like Tezrin? The biting cold, the bitter snow storms, then the loose chaotic arcane energies, the shifting sands, the incessant forces that seek to batter you relentlessly into the ground?” At this her voice broke with emotion and words seemed to fail her. She shook her head, placed the goblet onto the table, then clenched her fists into tight balls.
Then in one fluid movement she stood holding the leather belt of her quiver in one hand and grabbing one of her swords with the other, she swung the blade so fast I could not see the path it travelled until it stopped dead, the point ending up right beneath Tezrin’s right ear where it stayed rigid and unmoving even though her arm was extended fully. Her eyes blazed with an inner light, I would have called it a fire had they been red and not so green. Her te
eth were clenched and as she looked down her nose at him she let out an audible hiss. Tezrin’s right eye twitched, he held his breath. A bead of sweat formed upon his forehead and dribbled slowly down into his eye brow. Serinae breathed slowly and deeply, her eyes continued to shine bright as either side of her customers having stood rapidly, moved well out of the way no doubt expecting a fight to ensue, stools and benches screeched across the stone floor as people rushed to get out of the way of any swinging blades. Then there was silence the only sound the odd scrape as someone tried to disengage a foot or knee from the tangle of furniture and the steady drip of spilt ale running off a table top onto the floor.
But Serinae seemed to gather herself, her eyes dimmed slightly she withdrew the blade slowly and replaced it back upon the table. After a few moments, she lent on the table with both her hands and whilst her shoulders hunched she stared down at the blades placed in front of her and she said softly and slowly, “do you really believe tracking you back here even after all this time was any more difficult?”
Tezrin remained still, his head drawn back rigid since the blade had kissed the skin below his ear, I expected to see a thin line of blood, but not even a red blemish marked his skin. I noticed he started to shake, maybe partially in fear but more in relief. Composing himself his only response was a nervous sounding cough followed by a shrug of his shoulders and a slight look of embarrassment. After a minute or so he said, “Well, I am glad to see you safe.” Then after thinking for a while, he looked toward Serinae and broadening his features with a smile, added, “after all we were successful in our little venture, were we not?”
Serinae seated by now took another sip from the goblet. Then again she stood slowly and taking the belt with the quiver, hooked it with her cloak above her bow leaning against the wall and walked around the table to where Tezrin was sitting. People were setting stools back and regaining their previous positions, but they did not take their eyes off Serinae as she moved around. This time eyes that had once shown lust now showed a deep respect, even fear.
“Are you forgetting my friend rogue that after our purpose was fulfilled and you had that item as you call it, only you escaped? You saved your own hide when you could have quite easily stayed and fought by my side. You were supposed to be on watch that night, instead you left me in the dark; you abandoned me to capture and imprisonment by the goblin clan.” At this she paused, a sudden distracting thought obviously crossing her mind, but in a moment it had gone, her anger returning. “I may have rotted in that hole, listening to that constant bickering and jabbering.” Leaning closer to Tezrin she slowly reached up and grasped his collar between her forefinger and thumb, she caressed the material as she said, “can you imagine what it was like down there, without sun and without fresh, sweet air for so long?”
Tezrin felt sharp metal pressing into the back of his neck and froze instinctively, struggling to imagine what it was that had him immobilised in this way. The Inn keeper noticed that the wolf had gone and breathed a sigh of relief, but then noticed a new figure standing behind the one called Tezrin, a man with long white hair tied into a topknot at the crown of his skull, he also noticed the piercing dark eyes, shaped like almonds, these features combined with the long wispy moustache that hung either side of his mouth down to his chest marked the man as originating from the far eastern lands across the other side of the continents land mass beyond the Great Spine, the mountains of the Tolle’Fornosse’Veetri mentioned by Serinae earlier. The man’s eyes were drilling into the back of Tezrin's head in a very unpleasant manner. Serinae then stood back slightly, she made a great show of smoothing down the collar and then moved towards the table top in front of Tezrin. She smiled at a Grûndén who was forced to slide slightly along the bench on which he sat to make way for her; she nodded her apologies at making him shift sideways. The Grûndén, the only one to have remained calm and seated through this whole spectacle grinned widely through his thick ale-soaked beard, then moving further, made way for Serinae to sit upon the table, she did so and lifting one slender leg clad in soft deerskin breaches, placed her foot upon the bench beside the Grûndén. The short man laughed and said, “say lassie, de ye wants me t’ ‘old ‘im down for yease, whilst ye be given ‘im a good pasteing?” He winked at her.
She laughed and to my surprise slapped the Grûndén on the shoulder, she kept her hand there as she said. “Gentlemen. Let me introduce you to Teouso.” She gestured towards the white haired man standing behind the high elf.
Teouso stepped slowly backwards, a broad smile on his lips that showed missing teeth, those that remained were broken, yellowed and cracked. This movement allowed Tezrin to turn slowly in his seat to face Teouso warily.
Serinae continued, “if it wasn’t for Teouso, I would still be in that hole rotting. Just luck that they carelessly chose him join me in my dungeon, I guess they didn’t know he was a shifter able to change his form, for when the jailor unlocked the door to our prison to lay a tray of foul food and green water, a great white wolf leapt from the shadows and tore out his throat.”
At this Teouso, a big grin on his face, slowly drew his hand across the front of his neck and after making a horrid gurgling sound in his throat chuckled to himself.
Tezrin, a look of pure disgust upon his face glanced at Teouso’s outstretched hand still holding the cruel looking stiletto. “I, I have heard of such people, I did not believe though that they existed.”
Serinae continued, “Well Tezrin, a real blessing from the Maker don’t you think? Amazing how the goblins ran, well the ones that were still alive anyway, fleeing from a massive slavering dire wolf that quite unexplainably appeared in their dungeon and had gone berserk.”
Tezrin seemed to fight down any fear as he said. “Then I must thank your shifter friend here from the bottom of my heart, and rejoice in our good fortune at being reunited.” Tezrin stood and placing his right hand across his chest bowed low to Teouso.
I looked back at Serinae she slowly bent down and reaching inside the top of her boot drew something out, she balanced whatever it was in the palm of her hand, seemingly feeling the weight of it, she then swung around with lightning speed and with a flick of her wrist threw something fast across the heads of those now re-seated at the table. I saw a glint of silver and heard a thud as a small dagger pinned the sleeve of an outstretched arm to the wall by the side of her quiver of arrows. There a dirty bedraggled wretch of a man, his arm raised and his hand just about to grasp the belt on which Serinae’s quiver hung stood open mouthed. He tried to wrench his arm free but just succeeded in tearing the cloth of his sleeve. At this Serinae stood and made her way back around the table to her seat. On the way she retrieved her dagger, wriggling it free from the wooden wall.
Then glaring at the would-be thief, she said, “no hard feelings friend.” Her stare remained upon him.
The man lowered his eyes rubbing at his arm. He scurried away and made his way drunkenly out of the tavern, he glanced back, a look of hatred in his eyes as he slammed the door behind him.
After watching the closed door for a few seconds Serinae sat once more reclaiming her goblet. Serinae smiled at Teouso, who stepping forward again stood directly behind Tezrin and grasping the collar of the high elf’s white shirt, pulled it open bursting a couple of buttons from the shirt front that rattled onto the table top and bounced onto the floor. There revealed beneath his shirt was a fine ornate necklace that shimmered with its own light.
The Grûndén who had made way for Serinae to sit and who had been watching these proceedings closely, stood suddenly knocking over a chair next to him in the process, some unheard words muttered in his own tongue upon his breath.
Serinae gazed at the necklace and toying with the pommels of her swords said, “so Tezrin you still have the item.”
The Grûndén, wide eyed, cried out and with ale running down his beard pointed toward the necklace, he spluttered a profanity in his own language before he said out loud in the common tongue,
“by t’ Lord Øédréll, those be dragon scales.”
Serinae said something to Grûndén in his language, he laughed heartily as she gestured towards a bar maid, who promptly placed two full flagons of ale from her tray upon the table in front of the Grûndén. Serinae grasped one and the Grûndén the other, they clashed the flagons together with much spilling of ale and then to my utter surprise they both downed their flagon of ale in one.
Tezrin stared at Serinae for some while before he gathered his belongings and giving Serinae a somewhat disdainful look left the tavern by the front door.
As he passed the Grûndén the short man saluted him with his flagon and shouted, “eh laddie, will’e not tak’ an ale wit’ us then eh? T’ night she still be a’youngan’ an’ me thirst still be but a wee babe.”
I noticed that Serinae smiling, glanced briefly at Tezrin’s retreat before the door closed and he was gone, did I detect a slight look of regret on her face? But she sat back in her seat at the table and leaning with her back against the wall where her travelling cloak hung. She called one of the tavern staff over and I assumed ordered something to eat, or perhaps to drink.
But at that moment our main meal was brought to us and my attention was placed elsewhere. I looked hungrily at the plate of food, and looking up smiled at Jondris who smiled back.
Looking down at our plates he uttered, “this will make a nice change from the food at Dor’iesnal.”
Then winking at me he drew a mouthful to his lips and savouring the sweet smell, put his fork of food into his mouth and started to chew with closed eyes.
I sniggered and did the same.
We chatted and laughed through the rest of the evening, I largely forgot about Serinae and Teouso, but I did glance up once to see Serinae and the Grûndén who had gotten so excited about seeing the necklace that Tezrin had. They now sat in a corner at a table alone and seemed to be having a great time drinking copious amounts of ale and laughing almost constantly. I wondered at this perhaps the ranger was that raucous, heavy drinking type after all, I felt a little disappointed and I averted my eyes in embarrassment quickly as they both stared in my direction during a pause in their conversation.
Looking around the room, I couldn’t help noticing that shifter Teouso was nowhere to be seen he must have slipped out of the tavern at some time during the evening, for I did not lay eyes upon him again that night.
Perhaps the ale was starting to take affect and with a full stomach of food I found myself feeling very content. I yawned.
Jondris laughed and said, “ok I admit defeat, you’re not listening to me anymore and my guess is that you are fast in need of your slumber,”
I looked at him embarrassed and started to apologise but he just stood and holding out his hand for mine helped me to my feet. I knew he would make sure I was settled into a room above the tavern for the evening, as the village night gates would be closed by now. I welcomed this for two reasons, firstly I knew the taverns rooms were clean and comfortable and secondly I didn’t relish the idea of walking back to my little cell within the abbey court yard.
As we walked towards the door Jondris stopped, a suspicious expression appeared on his face, I yawned again closing my eyes and when I opened them there standing in front of us was the ranger, Serinae, a broad smile was on her face as she said, “greetings sister, I hope you don’t mind this intrusion, but I noticed you from over there earlier this evening and being kinfolk resolved to introduce myself, I hope you don’t mind.”
I still had my hand over my mouth, and quickly dropping it to my side and trying my best to smile nonchalantly I tried to make myself more alert, unsuccessfully I suspect, for as I started to speak another wretched yawn took me by surprise. All I could do was make poor excuses and introduce myself as Minervar.
She smiled at me and bowing slightly lowered her piercing gaze and took my hand and shook it warmly. “I am most joyed to have met you Minervar, but I understand I am keeping you from your sleep, forgive me, perhaps we will have the opportunity to talk and get to know each other better tomorrow, I do hope so.” At this she smiled again and after nodding to Jondris turned and with her gaze held to mine swished her hair behind her and she was gone, moving away back to the far side of the bar. I felt other eyes upon me and scanned the room the Grûndén sat looking at me with what looked like some interest, but perhaps this was just my imagination.
Jondris took my arm and turning me around said under his breath, “bah, rangers.”
He took me to my room and bowing low told me that he hoped I would have a good night and he would be back to escort me to the abbey first thing in the morning, he then waited, looking about as if he suspected someone to sneak up on us with suspicious intent. It was only when I had shut and bolted the door that he seemed satisfied and left to go his own way.
Smiling I turned and viewed my room, I knew I would rest easy that night, and preparing myself for sleep thought no more about the night’s activities. As soon as my head was laid upon the pillow I fell into a deep slumber.