The following is an account of the last day of Gwenlyn d'Lyrandar's pre-adventuring life.
Table of Contents
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Chapter 1: Karrnath, or The Wrong Letter
Late yeargrowth had left a cool breeze flowing through the air. It was 6 Nymm 988 YK, only two weeks away from graduation. Gwenlyn Barris sat on the steps in front of the main doors to Wynarn University. A youthful half-elf, she absent mindedly tugged on the cuffs of her velvet green gloves that matched her green and silver-laced dress. She had her long brown hair up in twin buns that morning, but was planning to put it in a single long braid later in the day. Beside her was her school satchel holding her academic books and study supplies, along with her spellbook which she had dubbed ‘the Memory Book’.
The students of Wynarn milled about. Some were leaving or heading toward classes, while others sat on the steps in small cliques. They gossiped, shared stories and joked around with each other. Most wore the red and grey Wynarn student uniforms, but others wore social clothes because they had no classes today.
A young hopeful of House Lyrandar, Gwen had joined the University when she turned eighteen, the age most khoravar took on their higher educations. Though they appeared more elven than their human counterparts, they enjoyed a longer life-span and a slightly longer maturation period. Being twenty-five, Gwen was on her last year of her basic courses in arcane studies. A fledgling mage eager to learn more.
She had been sitting on the steps for fifteen minutes waiting for the familiar face of Mathas the courier to deliver her letter. Every 6th a letter came and she was usually content to let the University take the letter and give it to her when she was done with the duties of the day, but today she impatiently awaited the sound of the carriage that would put aside the last month worth of worries.
Yurien d’Sol was a childhood friend of Gwen’s. Though they bear the same extended family, they were not related. Not closely. Being both khoravar, or half-elf, and part of the House Lyrandar, they once were inseparable. When they were very young they would play Battle with the rest of their friends. She would stand on top of a wooden crate which would serve the purpose of a tower in which she, as the Princess, was being held prisoner. Half the boys would try to save her, while the others would defend the box-like tower. No matter how many boys with wooden swords there were, Yurien would fight his way through and climb the ‘tower’ to receive a kiss from the Princess.
He joined the Windwright’s Guild at the earliest opportunity and left his Princess in tears at age 16. She was completely convinced that he loved her and that he would be with her forever. He had left, however, at the earliest opportunity. He said it was because of his need for adventure, but it was as if he had crushed her heart with his lust for daring. She was extinguished.
Some number of years later, she had received a letter from Yurien. It bore the stamps of Lhazaar, Mror and Karrnath. Yurien had become a pirate hunter in the Lhazaar Seas. In his letters he expressed the thrill of the chase and the drama of dueling on the decks of ships. He described the smell of the sea air and the beauty of the islands he visited. He also sometimes enclosed small queer stones he found on the islands. There were islands in those seas that no mortal even set foot on, or so he claimed.
The passage of years had mended her broken heart, so she returned his letters, growing in jubilation with each letter she received. And it was with this anticipation she awaited last month’s letter. When she read it, however, it was short and troubling,
Gwen,
I’m afraid I am of poor spirits. My captain is dead and I have joined a new ship. No matter what happens, know we will always be friends.
Yurien
The words were written hastily and the letter was closed without the ink drying first, leaving stains on the paper.
The day she read that letter, she spent the day in her room, a complete wreck. She cried as much as she did when Yurien left the first time, if not more. Everyday since then has been a journey to today. The letter had never been late. Always on the 6th. Now, on the steps of one of the most prestigious centers of academic learning, her heart jumped at every wagon that came around a corner. Every shout of a merchant from down the street made her heart flutter, because she thought it might, just might, be Yurien come home to her.
Gwen was so used to the false alarms, she almost didn’t notice the messenger carriage coming down the street to the University. Almost.
She ran down the steps to get a better look at the coming traffic. The carriage bore the colors and making of an Orien Courier. It would seem that Gwen should have felt relief at this sight, but her heart jumped into her throat. She found herself breathing shallow as she watched the carriage steadily head up the cobblestone street. Oh, how she wished it would hurry!
The carriage finally came to rest in front of the steps and the driver regarded her. It was not Mathas in the driver’s seat, but some other that she had not seen before.
“Gwenlyn d’Lyrandar?” he asked with equal parts curiosity and amusement.
She found she could not speak so she just nodded. She nervously passed her fingers over the area of her neck just below her right ear where her dragonmark could be seen. It was only a Least mark, but it nonetheless gave her a measure of status in House Lyrandar. Her father, bearing a Greater mark was a man of high clout in the house and some expected Gwen to follow in his footsteps.
When it came to House Orien carriages, Gwen knew the letters were held inside for safety, but the driver before her simply reached into a satchel and produced a letter. He leaned down and presented it to her between his first and second fingers with a smile. Although the anticipation may certainly kill her, she tentatively took the letter.
The whole business was all wrong. It felt wrong. The letter was not in its usual envelope. The off-white paper was much more stylish, instead of the thick paper Yurien used to withstand the sea air. The envelope was blank except for a simple addressing in elegant writing,
Gwenlyn Barris d’Lyrandar
Yurien had never called her by her full name. A noticeable absence of border-crossing stamps also disturbed her. It must have been sent locally.
Gwen was so involved with the examination of the envelope that she didn’t notice the carriage leaving until it had already traveled three blocks away.
Flipping the envelope over revealed a simple wax seal over the flap. Her heart was beating terribly hard and her mind was a flutter of confusion. All she could do was run her gloved finger under the seal and take the letter out.
A quick scan of the letter told her this was definitely not from Yurien. She saw the words dragons, Galifar and even noticed some coins in the envelope. The letter was signed with a single letter, W.
Yurien’s letter did not arrive. His letters were never late. Not in five years. Gwen then realized what must have happened. A simple mix-up was all that caused this. A mis-addressing. One could not expect House Orien to be flawless, after all. Gwen had received someone else’s letter and they may have received hers. If fortune was on her side, the letter that should have been delivered to her was at the Orien station right now.
She ran back up the steps and grabbed her school satchel. She then headed west across the city of Fairhaven. Being the largest city in Aundair, she could not hope to walk the whole distance, but a few copper crowns later, a town carriage was carrying her to the Orien Lightning Rail Station and Courier Depot.
After arriving at the station, she exited and tipped the carriage driver. The first morning train had pulled into Fairhaven not fifteen minutes prior and the transients were milling about during their wait for the transfer towards Passage or northern Aundair.
The Courier Depot was a little less busy. The main lobby featured a row of tellers across counters with pens in hand helping their clientele. In front of each teller was a queue of six or more people. Gwen simply stepped in line and waited impatiently, tugging on the cuffs of her velvet green gloves.
The lady in front of her finished with her business, and the teller prompted Gwen forward. A young man wearing an Orien clerk uniform smiled at her as she approached. She placed the letter on the counter,
“I’m afraid there has been a mistake.” she stated, “This letter is not for me and I am, in fact, awaiting another letter that was most likely mistaken for this one.”
The clerk picked up the letter and surveyed the opened envelope. “What is you name?” he asked without incrimination.
Gwen paused for a moment. “Well, it is Gwenlyn d’Lyrandar, but this letter certainly isn’t mine.”
“It is addressed to you.” The clerk countered innocently.
“I know. Dear sir. I think, perhaps, there was some kind of mistake and the letter that was supposed to be delivered to me was, instead, exchanged. As I have said, this is not for me.”
The clerk looked at the letter in a bit of confusion. “Why is it not for you?”
“Because the letter that is for me has come from Lhazaar. It would have border stamps on it. The letters pass through three different nations to get here. So I suggest you look for the letter that is or is not addressed to me with these stamps.” Gwen’s mouth could barely keep up with her words. “It is very important I get that letter. It is not a local letter. It would have arrived in the Karrnath shipment! Karrnath!”
At this point Gwen’s heart was beating and she hardly noticed how loud she was becoming or how many people were staring at her. She couldn’t tell how little she could even see through the tears building up in her eyes.
All was a blur for the moment until a voice rang out beside her.
“May I help you, Miss?”
Gwen’s head snapped over to see a human in his middle years standing before her. He was wearing a manager’s ensemble and his left wrist displayed the trailing ends of an Orien dragonmark under his sleeve. He smiled a smile that was both warm and stern. Behind him was a stone faced assistant with a clip board.
“I-” Gwen struggled to explain, but the man merely stepped aside and bowed slightly.
“This way please, Miss.” He said. “I’m sure we will be able to solve any problem you are experiencing.”
Gwen looked around at all the people staring at her. Of course they wanted her out of the main lobby. She was being an embarrassment. There was little recourse to do anything but lower her head in shame and walk where the manager and his lackey would lead her.
She was lead to a door marked ‘private’ near the front of the main room and down a hallway. Two doors to the right was a small parlor room. A number of comfortable looking chairs were arranged around a small circular table of fine bronzewood. There was an end table with a decanter and an assortment of glasses near the door. Gwen was shown to one of the chairs and she sat down without any complaint.
The manager spoke with his assistant in hushed words before sending him out of the room. He then turned to face his guest and walked over.
“My name is Waller d’Orien.” the manager said as he sat down in an opposite chair. He still wore his gracious smile that did not seem to judge her. “I am senior coordinator and would be happy to help you. I seem to have overheard you were awaiting a letter from Karrnath?”
At the man’s debonair words, Gwen felt flushed. “No. Uh, I mean, not from Karrnath, but rather through it. The letter I’m looking for is from Lhazaar.” She looked away and forced herself to relax as she noticed she was acting too bold again. She shyly added, “It’s important.”
“Yes.” Waller said as he allowed a small chuckle. “I would imagine so.”
With that he stood up and walked over to the end table and the decanter. “Wine?” he offered offhandedly as he poured a glass.
“Thank you.” Gwen answered softly. She was still embarrassed by her outburst, but that did not quench her need for answers.
Waller poured a second glass. “This wine comes from the Morova vineyard south of Lathleer. It is a vintage 983. Do you know why that is interesting?”
The question caught Gwen somewhat off-guard. She was preparing to ignore the polite banter, but now her interest was piqued. “Why?” she found herself asking.
“Because the vineyard that produced it no longer exists.” Waller turned around with the two glasses and placed them on the table before sitting down. “It was set ablaze by the Thranes who thought it was being used as a safe house for the Knights Arcane. The Thrane army was camped a half day from the vineyard when they received this intelligence. They made the strike and burnt all fifty acres.
“Funny thing is; the Knights Arcane, who were not there after all, saw the fire and rushed toward it. They saw the Thrane and began to route the army. The Thranes were forced to retreat. If they had never been so eager and moved to burn the fields, the Knights Arcane would have gone about their march and been ambushed and slaughtered. So I guess the next time someone ventures in so deep into our nation they’ll remember two things,”
Waller paused just long enough for Gwen to raise her eyebrows in anticipation. “If you let your impatience get hold of you, all you accomplish is let others know about it.”
“What is the other thing?” Gwen asked.
Waller smiled and handed her the glass on the table. “Never waste Aundarian wine.”
Gwen smiled and sipped the red wine. A moment passed as she enjoyed its flavor, when a short knock on the door was followed by the assistant entering back into the room. He carried a scroll with him which he handed to Waller.
After giving a curt thanks, Waller took the scroll and waited for the assistant to walk back out. He then turned to Gwen and gave her a look as if he was trying to peek into her soul and guess her reaction to what he was about to say. It made her slightly uncomfortable.
“I’m going to break the rules for you now. So this never happened, right?” Waller spoke with a trustworthy smile.
Confused, but comforted, Gwen set her wine glass on the table, nodded her agreement and sat in rapt attention. She watched as Waller unfurled the scroll and set it down on the table. It appeared to be a list of names in elegant writing.
“This is a list of the recipients of import from the Karrnath shipment.” Waller said as she looked over the scroll. “There are forty-six names on here, so take your time to look for your own.”
This was the moment that Gwen realized that she was making a complete fool of herself. She had been greeted as a prized customer, but was being dealt with as a lost cause. She let her eyes feed on the words she saw written on the parchment. They were just words to her, not names and nowhere on the list was a d’Lyrandar. She finally felt defeated.
Gwen cleared her throat and stood slowly, causing Waller to rise in respect. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” she spoke in little more than a whisper, “I’ll go now.”
Waller nodded with a half smile, rolled the scroll back up, walked over to the door and opened it for her. Outside the assistant was waiting and all three walked wordlessly outside the main entrance.
Once outside, Gwen turned to her host. “Thank you for your time. I apologize for my actions. I have been very rude.”
Waller stepped to face her, “In all honesty, I thought you were quite cordial. I will write a notification to our staff. When we come across your awaited letter it will be dealt with top priority.”
Gwen shook her head, letting the small tails from her twin buns sway back and forth, “That’s not necessary, but I thank you for your concern. Good day, sir.” She turned and began to walk off before Waller’s voice stopped her again.
“Miss. You have forgotten something.”
The young half-elf turned around to question her host, but her inquiries stopped before they began when she saw him holding out an off-white envelope. She sighed and walked back to take this object from him.
As he let her take the envelope from his hand, he smiled at her. A smile that seemed more genuine than any other he had given her. He bowed and walked away with his assistant in tow. She watched them leave until they disappeared into the crowd inside.
Gwen let a big breath come in and out as she decided where the rest of the day should take her. Then an odd thought struck her and she looked down to the envelope in her hands. She gazed at the loopy lettering that spelled her name.
With a sense of determination and a little annoyance she took the letter out and read it, this time in detail.
Then she read it a second time.
After the second read she looked around her to check to see if anyone was watching her. She felt suddenly vulnerable. She then thought of who would also want to see this letter and without further delay, raced eastward.
Gwen let her hair fall out of the twin buns to sail behind her as she ran. Tak always liked it when her hair was down.
Chapter 2: Breland, or An Unexpected Guest
The stairway was dark, but Gwen could navigate it and the exterior hallways beyond with her eyes closed. It was the second story of an apartment building in the north part of the city. This was the poor part of town called the Alleys. Some would call it the bad part of town. Even though Gwen’s family was affluent, she knew the streets and the inhabitants of the Alleys.
When she was seven, Gwen ran away from home. It was late at night and she ran through the streets, lost after an hour of blind wandering. Her parents were always busy with their work in the guilds, too busy for her she used to think. She saw the unknown streets and was scared. A little girl in the city at night. Her pains and sorrows of home seemed to diminish in her new surroundings as she thought she saw the shadows move around her. In the Alleys, there are no everburning torches at night, unlike the other sections of the city. The little khoravar girl ran in the darkness.
When she was so lost as to think she would never see home again, a man approached her in a dark cloak. She froze as she gazed at him through tear filled eyes, clutching the only object she took from home; Sir Marchfelt, her stuffed unicorn. The man knelt down before her and grinned a toothless grin. His head barely covered in long stringy hair that had not seen soap in years.
“My, my, sweetie-pie. Where is your mommy and daddy?” he asked in a high-pitched voice. When she didn’t answer, frozen with fear, he continued, “Don’t worry, honey-sweet. Charlie will take care of you.”
He reached out for her, and Gwen grew wide-eyed. She panicked and screamed at the top of her lungs. Only a part of the scream escaped her, for Charlie had quickly snatched her up and clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Don’t cry, my love.” Charlie said as he picked her up, her little legs kicking in the air, “I will take you back to your home. You can stay at my house until then.”
With the half-elf child in his hands, Charlie turned only to stop short.
Gwen looked to the center of the street in front of them and saw a short figure in the darkness. He wore a green cloak in the manner of the city guard.
“Toothless,” the figure said in a commanding voice, “put the girl down and I may forget what I saw.” The figure pulled back the cowl of the cloak to reveal a halfling underneath with a scar running from his chin to his ear.
“Captain Padfoot!” Charlie squeaked in surprise. “I was merely returning the girl to her parents.”
The halfling remained unblinking. Then he spoke in slow even tones, “Put the girl down.”
Gwen felt herself being lowered and released. She raced over to the halfling and hid behind him.
“Now, be on your way. Buy some teeth.” Captain Padfoot said as he turned and put his arm around Gwen’s shoulders. He guided her away without looking back. Gwen, however, did look back to see an angry Charlie glower, turn heel and march off.
Padfoot and Gwen walked wordlessly for a couple blocks before Gwen suddenly turned and threw her arms around the captain in a massive embrace.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Padfoot.” She said through the re-emergence of her tears. “So very much! I–“ she screamed before she finished, for when she pulled back to look at Captain Padfoot, she saw only a featureless face of grey staring back at her. Big white eyes bearing no pupils gazed at her and she froze motionless, unsure of what to do.
Then the face gave a slow smile, and a slight giggle. Gwen found herself smiling a little as well. The giggle turned into a laugh and the laugh got louder as Gwen laughed as well, until they both nearly fell to their knees of the absurdity of the moment.
As the giggles left her, Gwen looked to her new pale friend. “I’m Tak.” he said. “Wanna see a nest of rats?”
“Yeah!” Gwen said, for indeed, she had never seen such a thing. Tak took her hand and they ran off into the night and the beginning of a fifteen year friendship.
All the thoughts of the past made the half-elf mage smile as she looked on the worn wood of the door in front of her. B-3 was the apartment number and she didn’t bother knocking as she entered the dark interior.
Inside was the familiar cluttered apartment filled with items ‘nicked’ from other homes and shops. It was a small one-room, but cozy in a way. The black curtains were drawn over the windows as usual and the oil lamp lay on the table, unlit. It appeared that Tak was not at home currently.
Gwen made her way in further to the table at the end of the room. Her feet deftly touching the floor in-between clutter as her elven eyes saw much light where there was little, whereas a human would trip in the darkness. With a small gesture of her hand, a small flame came alight, floating above her palm. She set the flame to the lamp and as it caught, she shook out the fire in her hand.
The room lit up and the light shown upon drawers emptied and upside-down, chests on their sides and clothes strung about. Gwen gasped to see the normally messy apartment completely ransacked. It seemed as if someone was looking for something and did not care for what was in the way of their search. Though, some things were piled; shirts, breeches, jewelry, cloaks.
A sudden movement out of the corner of her eye caught Gwen by surprise and a dark figure jumped on her, tackling her onto Tak’s old broken mattress. A gloved hand was over her mouth and the figure’s other hand held a dirk to Gwen’s throat. She dared not move.
A pair of piercing yellow eyes set in bronze skin peered at her over a black cloth covering the bottom half of the assailant’s face. Short dark hair covered his head and found purchase around his rounded ears. The figure seemed human.
Except for the eyes.
A voice in clear words, but snarled tones spoke, “Where is the changeling?”
In fifteen years of friendship with a city low-life, Gwen had found herself in similar scrapes and could read situations like these like a book. She knew this one was not ready to bluff.
“Why do you want to know?” she found herself defiantly asking.
An eyebrow was raised above one yellow eye and the dirk was then pressed so firmly under Gwen’s throat that she was sure it was being pierced already.
“You are insolent, little girl.” the dark figure said. “The thief has angered his own gang and that is all need know. Now if you don’t tell me I have no further use for you. Quehiu?” adding the elven word for comprehension only gave more validity to the threat.
Gwen closed her eyes. “Then kill me.” she commanded.
Her heart raced as she put all of her life into this bluff. She felt the tip of the dirk slowly, softly, slide on her skin from her neck to perch over her heart.
“Last chance. Your death will not be quick.” the voice echoed in her head.
Fear of death made the sound of her own heartbeat throbbing in Gwen’s head. She knew she had to act fast or never act again. It was the chance of death or the promise of it. In one motion she leaned forward, putting her weight on her left side to come up on her right, the dirk sliding off her chest and brought her face to that of the assassin;
And planted a long, soft kiss on his cheek.
When Gwen pulled back and opened her eyes, she saw two white eyes set in pale grey skin staring in shock at her over a black cloth covering the bottom half of the assailant’s face. Long white hair fell over his features and shoulders.
A pale skinned hand pulled down the mask to reveal a small nose and a thin lipped mouth which said, “I don’t know what kicks my badger more; that you always know its me, or that I can never stay the moon when you hit me.”
Gwen smiled. “I’ll always know you no matter who you are.”
Tak stood up and sheathed his dirk. He sighed, turned to his various piles and began rifling through things.
“Oh. My dress.” Gwen said as she looked down to her green attire to notice a lengthy cut from Tak’s dirk. It ran from the neckline to her left side.
“Here, use this.” Tak said without so much as looking up to throw a simple dress back to the mattress.
Gwen stood and held out the new garment. Plain and brown. But whole. She set the brown dress on the mattress and began to loosen the laces on the back of her green dress.
“Was the dress tacked?” Tak asked.
Gwen pulled the loose dress off over her head, leaving her with only a small silk slip. “I can get another.” she said. “If it makes you feel better, this time you were really convincing. Really.” she inspected her damaged green dress as she held it up. “I wanted to believe it was an assassin.”
Tak threw his hands in the air, stood and turned to her. “Why are you here?”
Gwen took a long cold look at him. “Excuse me? When did I ever allow you to talk to me in such a manner?”
It was the Game. They played since they first met and Gwen had always won. She liked the Game, in fact when Tak changed it made her feel as if she had changed too. She could float in a fantasy inside the Game and act any way she wanted. It was thrilling to let herself play the fool, or the seductress, the villain, even the victim. As Tak and Gwen grew, the Game became complex and dangerous. Fire, knives, everything became a prop. She had been pushed, slapped, cut, threatened, abused and burned. Though, likewise she has stabbed, beaten, bit, tempted and otherwise taken part in the more violent times of the Game.
But this was not part of the Game. It had always ended when Tak’s true persona was revealed and everything that took place in the Game was put aside as if it did not happen. Tak could be anywhere from an innocent to the Fury himself in the Game, but once outside he because his sweet, and somewhat shy self.
Something was wrong.
Sometimes Tak would alter the surroundings of the area to help make the Game more believable, but never before had he completely trashed his own room for such a minor play. Everywhere Gwen looked, nothing was in its right place.
“What happened, Tak?” Gwen said in her confusion. “Why is everything disorderly?”
Tak sighed to calm himself. “I got the Daggers in a boil.” he said and stooped down once more and began throwing clothes in a small trunk. “I’m gold dust.”
“You’re leaving?!” Gwen shouted. “Why?! You didn’t choke the charlie, did you?”
Tak paused, but he didn’t look at her. “Dez got the finger, yesterday.”
Gwen gasped through her hands. She couldn’t breathe. Finally she managed a whisper, “Did you give it to her?”
Tak stood and glared at her. “No!” he shouted, “I didn’t! They auged the Pete! Sorted?”
“Fine!” she shouted back. She looked down at the floor searching for a solution. “Rubber.”
Tak began packing again and Gwen stayed silent. She couldn’t find any words to say, so she just rubbed her arms as they began to get chilly. The changeling Dez was the sister of Kreelo, the leader of the Dark Daggers. If there was something illegal happening in Fairhaven, Kreelo knew about it. His sister’s death would surely set revenge in Kreelo’s mind. The gang-leader was reasonable, though. She could simply talk to him and convince him that Tak didn’t kill her. That is, if he is telling her the truth.
If they were coming for him, they would be coming fast.
“H- How are you leaving Fairhaven?” she asked quietly, trying to keep her tears. She kept her arms around herself, but it was only partially because of the cold.
“It’s the circus.” Tak said, “Take a bowl, I guess.”
“A bowl? No, you’re taking the rail.”
“I haven’t the charlie for it.”
“I’ll pay for it, Tak.”
“Gwen, I told you, I don’t take-“
”Stop it, Tak!” Gwen shouted. She felt her cheeks wet unashamed. “This isn’t charity! It’s a promise that my friend will stay alive!” Her legs couldn’t hold her up anymore and she fell, sobbing.
Tak quickly came over to her and put his arms around her shoulders. Gwen took them gladly and cried into his black tunic. He spoke slowly, “Hey. Twinkle. I’m bobbed, okay?” He stroked her hair and spoke gently resting his cheek on her forehead. “Of course, I’ll take the banshee. I’m just a little feebed right now.”
They sat there together for a while. Gwen was frightened for him and didn’t know if she’d ever see him again. The strap of her slip on one of her shoulders was loose and she knew that Tak was looking at her breasts right now. She didn’t have to look at him to see. She had always caught his little glances from time to time. He wasn’t the only male to look at her that way. There was a time when she would take this moment to straighten herself and put on the brown dress to cover herself. This was not such a time. She would allow him to look at her and think that she didn’t know. Somehow a small gift to remember her by.
Tak had packed everything he needed and Gwen got dressed. They walked to the Orien Rail Station; a stone’s throw away from the courier’s depot she was so recently visiting. Tak changed his form to that of a human businessman to keep inconspicuous. They kept to the main streets and to the crowds. Every shadow held a potential danger.
On the walk over, Gwen presented the letter she was sent to him. Tak read it over.
“The loops are on the eye.” he assured her, “The paper is tacked, too.”
“Do you think it’s a setup or the like?”
“Its an ettin’s head, but I think its worth three pulls.”
“Thanks, Tak.” she said as she gave him a small hug. “That makes me feel a lot better.”
Once at the station, Gwen purchased a one way ticket south to Breland.
“This will get you as far as Sharn. Do you know where you’re going?” Gwen asked as she handed the ticket to Tak.
He took the ticket in his human hands, “On the eye, it’s the circus. Sharn seems the ranger, same as Wroat. Jokers or kings, I won’t be sovereign. That’s rubber. I’ll be blinking for a clam.”
“You are going to write to me, sorted?”
“Fours, Twinkle. Rubber.” he said.
The call for the last boarding sounded out from the conductor.
“So, would it be a smart giant to ask a hit?” Tak asked
Gwen blushed. This was one thing she was hoping to avoid. She was sad he was going and he was her best friend, but she was always careful about not stepping over that last line. She did not want this friendship ruined by frivolously as she has seen others ruined.
“Tak.” she said softly, “You know how I feel about that.”
“We’ve kissed before.” Tak said. The reply sounded too ready, as if he had practiced this conversation already.
“That wasn’t us, Tak. It wasn’t you. It was the Game.”
“Not to me.”
Gwen looked into his eyes. The eyes of his human pretense. They looked as if the person standing before her was real.
She sighed. “Okay, Tak. But,“ she pulled the hood of Tak’s cloak up over his head. “If I’m to kiss you, I want to kiss you.”
In the shadows of his cloak he took a quick look around and then faded into the pale skin and long white hair of Tak, the Face; changeling thief of Faihaven. This was the face she kissed. The face of her friend.
He resumed his disguise, picked up his trunk and walked on the train. The door slid shut behind him. The sound of crackling came to her ears as the train cars lifted slightly and began their departure.
Gwen watched as the cars began passing her, hoping to see Tak’s disguise in a window.
“Its seems he’s gold dust.” a low, gruff voice sounded behind her. A voice she knew.
Gwen slowly turned around to look up at Haarken, the hobgoblin. Tak’s former gang brother. Gwen prepared herself to scream at any provocation.
“There’s too many people around, Haarken. And I will not leave with you.”
“You’re seeing a ganger, Gwen.” he said curtly. “It’s belts and cloaks if we’re in crystal. But I’m here for Tak.”
“It’s too late.” she said defiantly. “He’s gone and he’s not to return. There’s no revenge for you anymore.”
“Is that the bard’s tale? Roc feathers. The face has spun a cap web.”
Gwen was taken aback. “He lied? He said the gang thought he killed Dez.”
“No,” Haarken chuckled, “she’s on top of the horn.”
“Then why would he say that?” she asked more to herself than him.
“If you ask the mouther, he left because of you.”
“What?” she asked, appalled, “Why?”
“Tak thought you were wingless. He’d sail the Rage for you, but you dommed him since the three dragons. I’ve seen you two after bell. You like the attention but only for the moment. You’re a brass door with no knob.”
Shocked, Gwen almost slapped the hobgoblin for that last remark.
“Its an archon’s trumpet he’s gone. “ Haarken continued with a toothy smile.
Gwen huffed and looked away from Haarken’s hairy face. “Can I get a ride back?” she asked indignantly.
“Fours.” Haarken said, the smile fading. “I might think you’re a harpy, but Tak thought you the ranger. I have a baby waiting.”
Gwen and the hobgoblin walked back to his awaiting carriage. It was a long ride back into the eastern side of town. Gwen’s thoughts were swirling in her head, and none of them were good. Sometime later, the carriage pulled up in front of the old silver flame church that had become something of a headquarters for the Dark Daggers.
She helped herself from the carriage and waited for Haarken to exit as well.
“Are you coming in for a clam?” Haarken asked.
“No,” Gwen said. “I’m headed for Wynarn.”
“Say hello to Thryn for me.”
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the baby.”
Gwen walked south down Host Street. It was already well past midday bell. She picked up her steps towards the university. She had missed all of her classes.
Chapter 3: Thrane, or Bearers of Sage-like Advice
Haarken gives her a ride to the abandoned Silver Flame Church, base of the Dark Daggers. From there she walks to Wynarn Acadamy. There she sees Thryn (LN Female Hobgoblin Expert 1) and tells her her brother says hello. She then visits Bouror Candlefax (N Male Human Bard 5) the Head Librarian of Wynarn, worshiper of the Silver Flame. She tells him about the letter and expresses her excitement. He expresses his worry. He reminds her that she hasn’t graduated from her basic classes and she is only two weeks away, but she doesn’t care. He gives her some lasting advice and wishes her luck. Outside, Professor Five (NG Warforged Magewright 7), also gives her some stern advice and kind well-wishes.
Chapter 4: Cyre, or A Restless Spirit
Gwen travels to her family home at the Lyrandar enclave to gather necessary things. She greets her mother, Laura (CG Female Khoravar Magewright 2). Her father, Aramar (N Male Khoravar Warrior 5) is always away on house business. Her mother was in the middle of scolding her brother Tham (CN Khoravar Warrior 1) after finding the holy symbol for the Devourer in his dresser. Gwen scolds him as well. He sulks off to his room. After consoling her mom, Gwen goes to Tham in his room. He expresses desire to visit Valenar soon and that he is changing his name to the Valenar name Xael. She tells him he is foolish and that he should not be so concerned with Valenar as he is Khoravar, not Elf. She tells him she loves him and is worried.
Chapter 5: Aundair, or What the Fog Brings
After a short nap, Gwen awakes at tenth bell, gathers her things and takes a carriage down to the Whiteroof docks. It is in the dark fog that Daelryn of Eldeen (CG Male Khoravar Ranger 2/ Rogue 1) approaches her. He mentions the bow he made for her and makes a metaphor for life with it. She tells him she is waiting for someone to meet. Daelryn does not pry but offers to stand with her until her party arrives. They make small talk until he says he will depart now and leaves her to her thoughts.
Epilogue: Khorvaire, or In Game Terms
Contacts
- Bouror Candlefax (N Male Human Bard 5)
- Yurien d’Lyrandar (CN Male Kharavar Swashbuckler 2)
- Tak the Face (N Male Changeling Rogue 2)
- Daelryn of Eldeen (CG Male Khoravar Ranger 1/ Rogue 1)
Extra Players
- Waller d’Orien (N Male Human Aristocrat 4)
- Charlie Toothless (CE Male Human Commoner 2)
- Haarken (LE Male Hobgoblin Warrior 1)
- Thryn (LN Female Hobgoblin Expert 1)
- Professor Five (NG Warforged Magewright 7)
- Laura d’Lyrandar (CG Female Khoravar Magewright 2)
- Aramar d’Lyrandar (N Male Khoravar Warrior 6)
- Tham d’Lyrandar (CN Male Khoravar Warrior 1)
- Captain Flick Padfoot (N Male Halfling Warrior 8)
Hooks
- What happened to Yurien? Did his ship get attacked by pirates? Is he still alive? Or maybe he turned pirate. Perhaps he discovered a secret of House Thuranni.
- Why did Tak really leave? Was it like Haarken said? Will Tak be less friendly next time Gwen sees him? Will he even become an enemy? With his ability to find trouble and change identities, there’s no telling how they will meet next or where.
- Why are Haarken and Thryn not returning to Darguun for the summer? There seems to be something their not saying. Is it not safe there? Or is it simply family matters?
- How will Gwen’s non-graduate status affect her standing with the University?
- Where is Gwen’s father and why is he late in returning home?
- Will Gwen’s brother travel to Valenar, and if so, how will his enthusiasm for the elves be welcomed? Is he really worshiping the Devourer or just rebelling? Is he connected somehow to the Storm Front?
- If Gwen is gone for a long time, will her family send bounty hunters to search for her? She never told them she was leaving. Her father is very headstrong, if he returns to see her gone he will certainly over-react.
Order of Events
5 - Sunrise
8 - Awake
9 - gets letter at Wynarn Dormitory, carriage to Orien
10 - arrive at Sivis station for correct letter
10:30 - walk to Tak
11 -
12 - Arrive at Tak’s apartment
1 - Leave for the rail
2 - Arrive at Lightning Rail Station
2:30 - Carriage to Silver Flame
3 - Arrive at Silver Flame (Dark Daggers), walk to wynarn
4 - Arrive at Wynarn
5:30 - Carriage to Lyrandar
6 - Arrive at Lyrandar Enclave
7 -
8 - Sunset
9 -
10 - Leave Enclave
11 - Arrive at docks