Galdrac stopped suddenly, causing Finley to almost walk straight into the back him. “There is The Wolf,” the man said, pointing to a sign hanging above a door on the opposite side of the street. “Thank you Galdrac for your help, I hope you find who you’re looking for,” he said, patting the old man on the shoulder before darting across the cobbled stone, swerving slightly left to avoid running into a group of people walking ahead of him.
Once outside the inn, he looked up, gazing a little more closely at the large sign that swung just ever so slightly in the breeze. Unsurprisingly, it depicted a wolf. However, rather than the beast standing on all fours, it showed it stood up on two, as a human would, something he had seen before on his necklace. Thinking it a little peculiar to show an animal in such a way, he shrugged his shoulders and puffed out his cheeks, before pushing open the main door.
The smell of ale hit him immediately, as did the smoke that hung in the air of the large common room. A few people turned to see who had walked in, but aside from that nobody bothered him as he stepped inside. He thought the room was quite full, filled with boisterous chat and laughter, as he made his way to the bar. Quite how he was supposed to find somebody he had never met before, he was as yet unsure.
In the corner of his eye, he caught a somewhat peculiar sight. Stood at the far end of the bar, were two short men with large braided beards. Although probably quite rude, he could not help but stare, “Dwarfs,” he muttered under his breath. Finley knew such people existed, and he had often heard others talking about them, but actually seeing one was somewhat surreal. Much shorter than a typical grown man would be, they were however much stockier in build. He looked at the thickness of their forearms and thought it was probably wider than his leg, indicating why dwarfs were considered so strong.
“What are you staring at lad. Have you never seen a dwarf before?” Came a voice from behind the bar. Finley turned his head to see a man in his middling years, wiping a tankard on his apron. “No Sir,” he answered quite honestly.
“Well best not stare too long lad, not unless you want trouble,” the man warned him. Trouble was one thing Finley did not want, especially after the last few days he had endured. “Sorry,” he eventually said, “Do you know a man called Ramon?” He asked, thinking this man was as good as any to ask. “Aye! You’re looking at him.”
The reply surprised Finley, and it took him a few moments to think of what to say next. “I am from Whitebridge. Terrence, the blacksmith, said I should seek you out.” The man stared at him for a second or two, “Well you found me. But I don’t know think I know a Terrence from Whitebridge.” Finley was now not sure what to do. Had he come all this way for nothing?
Trying to think of anything he had missed, he remembered the necklace left by his father, that had once belonged to his mother. “I have this,” he said rummaging under his shirt and pulling out the strange disc. The barman suddenly seemed much more interested, and Finley could tell just by the look on his face that something had piqued his interest. “Where did you get that? Steal it?” Ramon asked.
“No! It was my mothers,” he replied getting quite defensive and quickly tucking it back away from sight.
The man leant down and collected a glass from beneath the bar, before placing it in front of Finley. Without even asking, Ramon picked up a bottle and poured a dark liquid into the small glass, “The man you need to see is out of town at the moment. I can arrange a room here for you to wait if you wish. In the meantime, young Sir, have a drink,” he said sliding the glass a little nearer.
Finley looked at Ramon’s face, before gazing down at the glass. Would the man think him rude if he didn’t accept the offer, after all, he didn’t even know what the drink was? Deciding not to be so suspicious of what was probably meant as a friendly gesture, he gingerly picked the glass up and slowly lifted it up to his mouth. After pausing a moment, Finley opened wide and tipped the glass back drinking it all in one, immediately feeling the strength of the alcohol as it ran down his throat. He quickly placed the glass back down, as his insides felt as if they were burning. He coughed and spluttered a few times making Ramon chuckle, “Most people usually sip it!”
Once Finley had regained some modicum of composure, and the fire in his belly had died down, he thought more about what Ramon had said. The offer of a room while he waited for whoever it was he was supposed to be seeing, was a tempting offer. However, there was one big obstacle from that becoming a reality; the fact he only had a small amount of money. Although he had never stayed in the Inn at Whitebridge, he did know how much a room cost. While he could probably muster enough coin for one night’s stay, perhaps even a meal to go with it, doing so would effectively clear him out.
“Do you know how long this person I’m supposed to be seeing, will be?” Finley inquired.
“Nope!” Came the very short and shrift answer.
“Oh. Well, the thing is I am not sure I can afford a room,” Finley replied, deciding, to be honest and upfront about the situation. Ramon merely shrugged, as if to say it wasn’t his problem, before moving slightly to his left to serve a new customer who had just arrived at the bar.
“Two glasses of that disgusting stuff of yours,” came a familiar sounding voice. Finley turned, somewhat surprised to see Galdrac stood beside him at the bar. “This young lad is looking for you Galdrac,” Ramon said gesturing towards him. Finley stood in disbelief, “I’m here to see you?” He asked, making sure he had just heard correctly.
“Guess so,” Galdrac replied, tapping the bar with his finger impatiently waiting for his drink.
Ramon poured two glasses out, “Looks like you two already know each other. I’ll leave you in peace,” he said before walking off to serve another customer. Finley just shook his head, “Why didn’t you tell me, I was travelling all this way to see you?” He said probably a little louder than he intended. Galdrac grinned, before picking up one of the glasses and sipping the same drink Finley had just tried. Noticing the two glasses, the youngster was unsure whether he wanted another drink and so refused as politely as he could. “I wasn’t offering you a drink, they are both mine anyway,” the old man replied.
Finley felt incredibly annoyed, “So why didn’t you just tell me who you were?” He said, gritting his teeth.
“You never asked,” came the reply. After waving his arms and feeling stuck for words, he exhaled loudly, “Fine. So now I am here, and I have found you, what am I supposed to do?”
“Sit quietly and wait until I have finished my drinks. Oh, and stop being so moody all the time.”
“Moody? Me?” Finley just sighed and decided to leave it be.
Having made up his mind to sit at the bar and say absolutely nothing, Finley was forced to endure Galdrac taking an age in drinking the two glasses of alcohol. He had taken no more than a few seconds to consume his, and yet here he was watching the old man take what at least seemed an eternity. He had decided that Galdrac was after all, very irritating, and once he had found out his purpose for him being there, wanted nothing more to do with him, despite the fact the old man had saved his skin.
Eventually, Galdrac gestured for Finley to follow, and after placing a coin down on the bar for Ramon, he turned about and headed for the exit. Finley had little option but to follow, and although he was warned not to, could not help but stare at the two dwarfs still stood at the other end of the bar. This time one of them caught him looking and immediately made a beeline his direction.
Finley may have been taller than the fully grown dwarf, but he was quite sure he would be no match in a fight. As quickly as he could, he tried to step behind Galdrac, using the old man as cover. “What are you staring at boy?” Came a shout. The words were spoken in a deep threatening way, and in an accent, he had never heard before. The entire inn fell silent as if somebody had merely flicked a switch to turn off all the noise.
Finley looked at the menacing dwarf stood before him. “Sorry,” he said in a rather pathetic weak voice. “I don’t like bei
ng stared at, especially by some snotty kid,” the dwarf snarled, his words almost incomprehensible. The dwarf stepped right up to Finley and went to grab him. Fortunately, Galdrac was once more on hand to save him, as the old man decided to intervene. “Calm down Bagrim. The boy meant no offence. He was probably just intrigued by your lack of inches.” Several in the room laughed out loud at the comment, but Finley thought Galdrac was probably making matters worse by ridiculing the dwarf about his height.
The dwarf stared at Galdrac for a moment, before looking back towards Finley. Surprisingly the dwarf then started laughing as well, “Lack of inches,” he muttered to himself, before merely turning around heading back to the bar. “Thanks… again.” Finley said, feeling rather sheepish. However, it appeared those in the inn didn’t care, as the room quickly filled with the noise of chatter and laughter once more. Galdrac gave Finley a stern look, before nodding his head towards the door, suggesting they should go.
Once back outside, the air seemed so fresh compared to that inside. Finley inhaled deeply several times while he waited for Galdrac to lead on. “Next time you want to pick a fight with a dwarf, I’ll not stop you. Foolish boy!” The old man grumbled.
“I didn’t pick a fight. I was just intrigued,” Finley replied innocently. “I’ve never seen one before, and was only looking.”
“Well, let that be a lesson to you. Dwarfs don’t like being glared at, and one like Bagrim would snap your neck in an instant,” he added clicking his fingers to make a sound suggesting as much.
Suitably berated, Finley sighed and apologised again. This was all new to him, and far from the village life he was used to, and he was beginning to think that perhaps he would have been better off going elsewhere. “Come on!” Galdrac snarled, still clearly annoyed with him.
“Where are we going?” Finley asked, running a few steps to catch up.
“There!” The old man pointed up to the huge towers, part of the main building at the town’s centre.
Chapter 6.
Galdrac led Finley through the busy streets of Felham, towards the one building that dominated above all others. Walls were running all the way around it, and although a little less in size to those that surrounded the town, would be a formidable barrier nonetheless. Access was via a large set of iron gates that were once more guarded, although those on duty here were dressed very differently to those he had seen on entering the town.
This time there was no queue, as Finley noticed most of the general public seemed to give the entire area a wide berth. The guards on duty remained motionless as they approached, but instantly sprung to life when it was clear they sought entry. Two immediately lowered long handled halberds, a weapon Finley had only heard about but never actually seen. Essentially, it was an axe with a very long handle, although the head was much larger and probably capable of removing a limb with one swoop.
Even Galdrac was forced to stop, and Finley, following dutifully behind, did likewise. He heard the old man speak to the guards, and after a short exchange of words, they were allowed to pass through. The two soldiers immediately returned to their former stance, once more motionless like statues.
No sooner were they through the gate when Galdrac stopped once more, turning around and facing Finley. “Now listen carefully,” he said in a serious tone, hoping to emphasise the importance of what he was about to say. He told him that once they entered, the building will contain not only dwarfs, but elves and even orcs and that upsetting any of them would not be a wise thing to do. Finley just nodded his understanding, feeling his heart thumping, unsure he actually wanted to go any further.
Orcs, he thought. Again, something he had heard tales and stories about, but why were they here in human controlled lands? He had always been led to believe that Orcs were the enemy, often raiding the borders, brutally murdering innocent people and eating them. Supposedly this race was deemed too wild and hostile to reason with, and yet for all he apparently knew about them, he actually realised he probably knew nothing.
The yard around the main building was not overly large, and the walk from the gates to the main entrance only a short one. However, Finley had to strain his neck upwards as he gazed upon the four towers which stood at the corners of what was in itself a huge building. The walls of dark stone were like none he had ever seen, with large windows interspaced on the upper floors. The main doors were painted a glossy black and were approached by a set of wide stone steps.
One of the guards on duty at the door opened them as Galdrac indicated he wished to enter. Once up the steps and inside, they stepped into a large foyer, illuminated by strange orbs of light that appeared to hang up near the ceiling. Finley was about to ask how it was done, but noticed Galdrac already heading off down a long corridor to his left, and had little option but to follow.
Just as Galdrac had forewarned him, humans were not the only ones to be walking about inside the building. He spotted another dwarf making his way down the same corridor, and this time, trying his best to heed those warnings, Finley kept his eyes front, casting only the quickest of glances as the dwarf passed them by. The heavy footsteps from the thick black boots echoed far louder on the white tiled floor than both his own and Galdracs.
The walls of the corridor were plain white, although interspaced by doors every twenty or so paces. At the end, they emerged into another smaller foyer with a winding staircase that seemed to climb upwards forever. Finley looked up and realised they must be within one of the four towers, and although the climb looked a daunting one, he followed Galdrac upwards.
The climb was not as bad as he thought it might have been, as they exited the staircase on the second floor, and passed through a set of doors into an odd shaped room. Clearly, inside the tower, the wall of the chamber was curved, but that was not what had caught Finley’s attention. Aside from the eerie blue balls of light that hung above him, illuminating the room, stood at the centre was a strange stone archway. Moreover, beside it stood two more unusual characters. “Elves?” He asked, looking to Galdrac for an answer. The old man nodded, before walking over to talk to one of them.
Finley stood to one side intrigued by everything within the room, and although he had been told several times already, he could not help having at least a little look at the elves in the room. A little shorter than the average human, they both had blonde, almost white hair, much lighter than his own. Facially, they were little different to their human cousins, aside from the slight point at the tip of their ears, but even that was barely noticeable. From the stories he had been told of elves, they may have been slim and smaller, but their agility and speed was supposed to be far greater than any of the other races.
Both elves had staves in their hands, a little like the one carried by Galdrac, only a little shorter. Finley wondered if their sticks were magical too, or why else would they carry them. Neither elf looked particularly old, although from what he had heard about them, they did apparently live much longer than humans, so guessing an age might prove difficult.
His pensive mood was interrupted, as Galdrac stepped over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Right! Come on we’re off to Neylarin,” he said as if Finley was supposed to know what that meant. Before he could ask any questions, Galdrac was already leading him towards the strange stone arch. The two elves stood either side and while pointing their short staves, channelled a blueish stream of light to the archway, making it glow inside the frame, glistening like a pool of water.
“Take a deep breath and keep moving,” Galdrac instructed, still with his hand firmly on Finley’s shoulder guiding him forward. Finley did as was asked, and although nervous and uncertain as what to expect, stepped into the glimmering archway. Although he kept his legs moving as Galdrac had instructed, he felt his entire body being pulled forward as streams of light raced past. The feeling had lasted just a few moments before he felt himself stop suddenly and reappear in an entirely different room.
He looked back to see Galdrac just beside him, and a sto
ne archway identical to the one in the other room. “Whoa! What just happened?” Finley asked, feeling a little nauseous. Galdrac smiled and explained that travelling for the first time through the Waygates sometimes made you feel as such. As he had eaten nothing since midday his stomach was all but empty, and despite retching a couple of times, he was not physically sick.
After a moment or two, he felt well enough to stand properly, and take a look around the room they now found themselves in. As well as a couple more elves stood beside another archway, several more stood in what was a much larger room than the one he had just departed. Noticing his confused look, Galdrac decided to explain exactly what they had just done. Finley listened, somewhat sceptically, as the old man described what a Waygate was. Apparently, Felham had four such gates, one they had travelled through to the elven capital of Neylarin. One to the dwarf capital of Durn Raldun, another to the human capital of Carison, and the fourth to the orc city of Balrach. Each tower at Felham housed a gateway, which was powered by arcanists. “The two elves?” Finley inquired trying to keep up, although he was unsure what an arcanist was.
“And now you say we are where?” He asked.
“Neylarin. The capital city of the elves,” Galdrac replied waving his arm out to point to the small group looking at them. Apparently, it was even possible to move about without a Waygate, but that took many more arcanists, was more difficult and had severe limitations. Finley nodded, trying to comprehend what was being said. “Okay so let me get this straight. We are now in elven lands, having made the journey in a matter of seconds where it would take normally weeks, perhaps even months?”
Return of the Darkness Page 4
