11
After marching alongside the caravan for several more days, the white walls of Oróna finally came into view early one morning. We crested a small rise and were greeted with the sight of its bright stone battlements shining in the sunlight. Although the walls were in view, we still had quite a distance remaining before we would actually reach the fortress gates. Even so, the sight of the great elven outpost lifted our spirits, and despite the many miles still ahead of us, I couldn’t help but begin making preparations for our arrival.
Stel and I had once again traveled among the merchants of the caravan to sell off the loot we had picked up from the orcs. I laughed when Stel told me they had made Khorim undertake the gruesome task of searching bodies of our fallen enemies. Broda had deemed it a fitting punishment for, as she had said, ‘letting those foul slag-heads get the better of a dwarf.’ After that, they had unanimously decided that from that moment on, anyone who died in combat would be required to clean up the mess as compensation for the ‘inconvenience’ they had caused.
I couldn’t help but burst out in laughter when Stel told me the story. I had been unaware at the time, still stuck in the fugue I had suffered from using the resurrection scroll, and I was truly amused at how my companions had turned their previous sense of dread regarding a potential death among them into a macabre contest of sorts.
Fortunately, we managed to sell all of the items Khorim had salvaged after the battle. Although the weapons and armor were mostly a mismatched assortment of equipment, it had all been good-quality gear, and well worth the effort. While the prices we received were nowhere near as generous as before, we hadn’t really expected another windfall of that sort. When the last piece was finally sold, Stel pocketed the funds. He still hadn’t distributed the coins from our previous encounter with the bandits and wanted to divvy up this haul before making his disbursements.
While bargaining with one of the merchants who happened to specialize in fine weapons, I took the opportunity to trade my matching pair of short swords for a single blade. With the Essence Blade as my new main weapon, I no longer had a need for two short swords, so I made an even exchange for a fine steel short sword that I now wore slung over my left shoulder. I had also rearranged my daggers, sheathing the Dagger of Laceration behind my back along with the Essence Blade, and kept one of the blades Georl had given me strapped to my belt—I couldn’t bring myself to sell the other two, so I tucked them into my backpack for safe keeping.
Eventually, Stel did the math and made his rounds, discreetly handing out bulging coin purses to everyone. I didn’t bother trying to count the coins; I simply dumped the contents of the purse into my coin pouch and checked the new balance of my funds.
Coin pouch, Soul Bound:
12 Talons, 48 Gold Bits, 185 Silver Marks, 87 Silver Bits, 192 Coppers
Even after dividing the combined haul of loot five ways, and accounting for the group funds ‘tax,’ it was still an impressive amount.
Despite having initially sighted Oróna in the morning, we didn’t arrive at the gates until early that afternoon. We were tired from the long days spent walking, but excited to finally reach the safety of the outpost. Although the outpost served much the same purpose as The Citadel, protecting the citizens of the Realm of Íforn from the deadly perils of the land, it bore only the barest of resemblances to the human fortification.
The bright white walls of the elven outpost sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. Tiny flakes of metal in the light-colored stone reflected the daylight, turning the smooth walls into a glittering masterpiece of polished stone. The graceful flowing architecture of Oróna’s gates and elegant towers made The Citadel’s imposing structures seem almost primitive in comparison. The elven fortress had clearly been constructed with equal portions of both artistry and defense in mind.
Leaving the caravan behind, Stel guided us to the only inn he was familiar with in the city. As we followed him through the streets, I continued to marvel at how the elves of Oróna displayed their dedication to artistry with the outpost’s interior.
The cobbled streets were wide and clear, with orderly shops and markets scattered among the many residences; however, even though Oróna had a vibrant merchant community, it was still primarily a military outpost. Despite this fact, there were no obvious barracks or other typical garrison structures. Obviously, the architects had taken great care to minimize the feeling of living in an armed outpost. If my quick walk through its streets was any indication, they had done their job well.
Having only stayed in Oróna on a single prior occasion, Stel did not possess his usual wealth of information on the outpost. Pausing only briefly outside the door of an inn that proclaimed itself The Wayward Bard, Stel allowed the rest of us to catch up before continuing on inside. While the exterior of the Bard mirrored the graceful flowing architecture of Oróna, its interior was pure roadside tavern.
Rustic wooden furnishings were arranged around the common room, which was decorated with an assortment of tavern staples. From mounted game to erstwhile war trophies, the walls of the Bard were fairly littered with adornments of every description. After so many days on the road and sleeping outdoors on the hard ground, the welcoming sights of the Bard’s common room felt like home.
With a sigh, I dropped down heavily in a chair, throwing off my backpack and truly relaxing for the first time in days. My friends mirrored my actions, all of them taking their seats around the table and freeing themselves of their heavy burdens. Khorim shouted out for a round of ales and a waitress arrived shortly after, bearing an armload of overflowing mugs. Stel toasted to our safe arrival, and we all drank heavily from our mugs. The ale was good, but much lighter in flavor than I was used to.
“Ahh,” Khorim complained after swallowing a mouthful of the brew. “Forgot how soft the elves like their ale. Almost like drinking water.”
“Don’t get too full of yourself, husband,” Broda chastised him. “I seem to recall that you made a similar complaint about human ale. If I remember correctly, dear husband, that was the night you got so drunk you couldn’t keep up with us on the road the next day.”
Khorim’s cheeks reddened as she recounted his embarrassment. He muttered something under his breath before taking a second, and much smaller, sip from his mug.
We drank our ales and then ordered some food when the waitress passed by again. Oróna, being an elven outpost, meant that both the food and ale were tailored for the elven palate. While it was much lighter fare than I was accustomed to, the food was far from bland. In fact, the delicate seasoning of the meats and vegetables had a sublime flavor that I found to be delightful.
Although Khorim and Broda ate well, they did not seem to share my enjoyment of the food. Stel and Venna, on the other hand, were pleased beyond description. I could only imagine that having spent so much time in the human Kingdom of Lorida and being deprived many of the simple comforts they were used to, this had to be a homecoming of sorts for the couple.
“It is still early in the day,” Venna announced when we had finished our meal. “And I am required to announce my arrival to the Abbott here.”
“Husband,” she said turning to Stel. “I will return as soon as possible. If you will secure us the two rooms for the night as we previously discussed, I would be most grateful.”
After a series of gaffs by Stel and Khorim, Venna and Broda had threatened to make the two men spend our next night at an inn together, denying them the companionship of their wives. I had thought it was an idle threat at the time, a mere admonishment. I was almost as shocked as Stel that Venna truly intended to follow through on the threat she had made so long ago. His face took on a look of defeat and he acquiesced without a fight, offering only a simple nod in return.
“Thank you for reminding me, I had almost forgotten,” Broda responded. “Stel, do take good care of my Khorim tonight. Being so recently resurrected, he’s still quite delicate.”
The two men sputtered, Khorim nearly choking on his a
le. Stel tactfully excused himself, seizing the opportunity to leave the table and reserve our rooms for the night.
“Remember, just two rooms. And you can leave my key with Dreya,” Venna called out to him merrily as she left to report to the Abbott.
When we had first met, Venna had struck me as quite formal and reserved. Recently, she had taken on an increasingly playful and mischievous aspect. While I truly enjoyed my friend’s metamorphosis, and felt it had contributed to our growing closeness, Stel seemed to be bearing the brunt of her often-biting sense of humor.
Stel returned with the room keys and sat down in his chair, slouching uncharacteristically before handing them out. When he passed me only a single key, I held my hand open and looked him straight in the eye. With a sigh, he placed the second key—Venna’s key—in my palm.
“Stop moping,” I reprimanded the two sorry-looking men. “It’s one night, and you both earned your punishment. Beyond that, your wives both deserve a night away from you; a ladies’ night, as I recall Venna mentioning.”
Both of them seemed to grumble at the same time, commiserating in their shared misery.
“Come on,” Broda said, rising from the table. “Let’s leave these two to their cups and be out of here.”
We headed upstairs to our room, leaving the men to drown their sorrows. Entering the small chamber, I saw it held only two beds. Obviously, two of us would be sharing a bed that night. Seizing the opportunity, Broda immediately plopped down on the closest one.
“I call this one!” She declared.
After the close call we had experienced with Venna’s impulsive kiss, I knew neither of us would be comfortable sharing a bed that night, but I reluctantly resigned myself to making the best of it. These were issues I was going to have to come to terms with at some point, and I trusted no one more than Venna to help me through my difficulties. Although Broda’s presence in the room might make things both safer and more awkward for us, I was still grateful for her companionship.
“Fine, it’s yours,” I responded with a sigh, accepting my fate.
“I’m going to leave my quiver here to replenish my spare arrows while I take a look around the outpost,” I told her. “Want to come along?”
“Nah,” Broda replied as she closed her eyes. “I’m tired and have a full belly. Think I’ll just take a nap instead.”
After leaving Broda to her nap, I passed through the common room downstairs on my way out. Khorim and Stel were looking completely pathetic while sharing another round of ales, and I couldn’t help but shake my head at the sad pair before walking out the door.
While the streets of Oróna were busy, the wide roads kept the way clear, making travel through the city quite easy. I wandered about for some time, taking in the sights of the beautiful elven fortress. I was in a near constant state of wonder, marveling at how the elves had taken care to make the outpost both formidable to its enemies and comforting for its residents.
I came across many different shops, and although we were now in a new land, I wasn’t finding many new things worth buying. While there certainly was no shortage of potential upgrades among them, they were all still well beyond my means.
In an idle moment, I stopped and reached inside my armor. Now that we were secure inside the walls of Oróna, I decided to see which way the amulet wanted me to go. Taking hold of the three merged tokens, I closed my eyes and felt for their impulse.
It came to me stronger than before, the addition of the third token apparently lending additional force to the amulet’s pull. Looking around, I oriented myself in the direction the amulet indicated and found that I was facing towards the Northeast. I even had a vague notion of distance, though I lacked a more complete map to match it against.
With my new information and seemingly nothing more to gain from wandering aimlessly around the outpost, I started walking slowly back towards the Bard. I had barely gone more than a few steps when I heard Venna’s voice calling out to me.
“Dreya!” She cried, rushing to meet me.
“Hello Venna,” I greeted her. “I didn’t expect to see you until later. What did the Abbott say?”
“He was indisposed, but ordered me to return in the morning,” she said hesitantly.
“What is it?” I asked, sensing her reluctance.
“He has a mission for me,” she began. “I know we agreed that my missions would take precedence over your quest, but that was before.”
I knew what she meant by before—she meant before we had discovered I was Sintári. Apparently, she felt that fact somehow changed our agreement, and I needed to correct her misunderstanding right away.
“As far as I’m concerned, that changes nothing.” I replied firmly.
“But it’s just that—,” she protested before I cut her off.
“Venna?” I asked.
“Yes, Dreya?” She replied cautiously.
“You’re a smart girl, right?”
“Yes,” she replied again, a puzzled expression crossing her face.
“Tell me what ‘nothing’ means.”
She let out a ‘huff’ but didn’t respond.
“Venna, its precisely because of what’s happened to me that I need to make sure I take care of your needs just as much as my own,” I tried to explain. “It does me no good to focus only on my quests and my goals while ignoring anything that helps the rest of you get stronger too.”
“Oh,” she replied with a sly grin, “So helping with my mission is really just you selfishly protecting your own interests?”
“Sure,” I replied, returning her smile. “Whatever works for you.”
We laughed for a moment before she took my hand in hers and led us back to the Bard, so we could tell the others of Venna’s new mission. I tried to inquire on the way, but all she would offer me was her sly smile in return, telling me I’d have to wait to hear about it with the rest of my companions.
Khorim and Stel were still attempting to drown their sorrows in mugs of ale, and Venna quickly ordered her husband upstairs to fetch Broda. Apparently Broda was still asleep, because it took a few moments for the two to return to the common room. When everyone was seated around the table, Venna finally began to reveal the details to us.
There had been reports of some sort of plague in one of the small hill towns. It was a small farming community that, while technically within the territory of the dwarven Realm of Braskan, was home to people of various origins. The initial reports of the plague had been quite dire, but had suddenly stopped, and as Venna’s Order were the preeminent healers of the land, the Braskans had reached out to them for assistance. The Abbott had been working hard creating some sort of cure, which was nearly complete, but they had no one willing to risk the dangerous trek to the remote village to administer the antidote. Upon announcing her arrival, Venna had been ‘volunteered.’
“The Abbott himself is making the final batch of antidote tonight,” she concluded. “He has commanded me to meet him in the morning to receive the antidote and then make haste North as soon as possible.”
“He didn’t, by chance, provide you with a map, did he?” I asked, barely holding back a grin. It seemed obvious that my unknown benefactor was at work once again.
“Actually, he did,” Venna replied as she withdrew a folded section of parchment.
Venna laid the map out on the table, and before she could point anything out to me, I placed my finger on the paper.
“The village is somewhere in this area,” I said confidently. “Am I right?”
“Yes,” Venna replied, suddenly puzzled. “But how could you know that?”
The others had all turned to me as our exchange unfolded. All of them now looked on expectantly, waiting for my explanation.
“While I was out, I used the amulet to search for the next token,” I told them. “It has grown stronger, and I was able to feel not only the direction this time, but also a sense of distance, at least roughly.”
“And it indicated this area to you?�
� Venna asked, motioning to the same small portion of the map I had pointed to.
“Somewhere in that area, yes,” I replied.
She looked at me quizzically for a brief moment before responding.
“One might be forgiven for believing that the Goddess herself is aiding you,” she finally said, with a hint of reverence.
“Very well,” I replied flatly, waving her statement off dismissively. “I forgive you for believing that.”
“Ahhh!” Khorim snorted. “She got you good with that one!”
Stel cracked a smile but then froze when he saw Broda’s icy stare.
“Husband,” she said to Khorim coldly. “You might remember why it is you’re spending the night with Stel here. Perhaps it will take more than just a single night alone for you to return to your senses?”
Khorim’s laughter turned into a series of coughs and sputters. While Stel studiously maintained a look of indifference despite his initial response to Khorim’s jest.
“Yes, that’s what I thought,” Venna said calmly. “Come ladies, I think it’s time we retire for the evening.”
She rose gracefully, leaving Stel to watch her as she slowly retreated upstairs. She stopped only for a bottle of wine and some glasses from the bar, and I followed as she led us out of the common room.
The three of us entered the room, and Venna immediately plopped down on the bed and began filling the glasses with wine. I tossed my pack in the corner and stripped off my armor and weapons, letting myself relax in the comfort of just my simple clothes.
Taking the glass Venna offered, I took a small sip of the deep red liquid, and immediately tasted the subtle hint of the sweet fruit the rich wine was crafted from. The flavors washed over my sensitive tongue, and I savored the delicate balance of the fine elven beverage.
“Mmmm,” I softly moaned. “That’s good!”
“I’m glad you like it,” Venna replied, smiling. “I had the barkeep get a bottle just for us ladies. Stel’s treat, of course.”
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