Mrath Teeg

The First Day

The normally bustling city is now fit to overflow with all the people arriving to try for the rewards inherent in fighting for your kingdom. So many, infact, that a queue has started at each one of the cities entrances. Also, the guards are under orders to issue a special punishment to any non-archived citizens who are arrested: instead of being sent to the dungeons, they are instead kicked out of the city and their names stricken from the lists for the competition.



Rhen

Jerrit, a rather good looking half elf male, stood in line to get in the city. He was a well known adventurer, a traveler of the realm, and though no one knew it, also the changeling female Rhen. No one knew Rhen, and that was the way Rhen wanted to keep it. She was completely Jerrit. As the line moved, Jerrit spotted some females and winked at them. His eyes twinkled as he looked over the line. He didn't say anything, he never needed to. He smiled flirtatiously at the female adventurers before taking a step forward.

The girls smiled back and blushed a little bit before talking to each other in secret. They quickly moved into the city, seems they are citizens here as the guards let them in without trouble. Most people in the line were silent, eying each other with distaste since they were all here to take the others job in their eyes.

Jerrit watched them disappear and smiled to himself. This line was tedious, and no one else was in a fair sort of mood. They all had staring problems to. He vaguely wondered if it was possible to lighten the mood with all these adventurers. Giving one nearby guard a friendly wave, his face became quizzical. "Hey, what's the hold up with this line? Those girls just jumped to the front. Are they citizens?" His tone was friendly and curious.

"Just mind your business there half-breed and there wont be any problems." The guard said keeping an eye on Jerrit. A few of the adventurers around Jerrit turned to look at him to see who it was that was talking. The line finally started to move again.

Jerrit chucked at the comment. "Hope you do not kiss your mother with that insulting mouth," he said with a smile. He dismissed the guard with a flick of his hand, moving with the line. If the guard caused a scene, he could hold his own. And if he hadn't already heard the tales of himself, then the guard was obviously under educated.

The guard chose to ignore him and continue watching the rest of the line. After several more minutes the line moved up and Jerrit was infront of the checkpoint. "What's your name, occupation, and town of origination?" the guard asked as the others kept an eye on him.

Jerrit smiled winningly at the guard. "Jerrit Sahlia. That's with two 'r's. My home would be in the Woods of the Fey. Well, technically just outside." He was gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "You know, a good mile's hike away. Not quite a mile, a little less." As if realizing he was talking too much, he moved on to the last part of the question, which was really the second thing asked for. "And I am an adventurer."

The guard said nothing as he wrote the information down and handed it off to an aging man in a robe. "Over here please." he said as he pulled out a thin stick with a fine wire wrapped around it.

Jerrit eyed the stick with some curiosity. It could be anything, and he was only slightly concerned and wishing he had been paying more attention. But he walker confidently over, giving the man another smile. If not a single one knew the name of Jerrit Sahlia, he would have to work harder. "What next?" he asked in a friendly manner.

"Now we mark you so we know who you are should you get into trouble." He said as he took Jerrit's hand and tapped the back of it with the wand. The spot that was tapped shined with an faint glow and a strange glyph appeared and then vanished. "Right, now go on and don't cause any trouble. Those are harder to remove then to put on."

Jerrit frowned and rubbed at his hand. He moved into the city and found a good place to sit and watch the people who entered. Jerrit had two goals for this trip. One was to find a face to replace Rea with. The girl had lost her usefulness. The other was to earn the remainder of the money needed to send Mark's daughter to school. But he had to wait until he could meet with whoever had sent out the call.

The inflow of adventurers was a spectacle to behold and many of the city's citizens were taking advantage of it as a veritable market had sprung up in front of the gates. They were selling everything from bread and cheese, to weapons and scrolls, just hoping to get a bit of their money.

Jerrit browsed the goods for awhile, especially interested in the bread vendor. He didn't buy anything, but made note of it all. His eyes were scanning the crowd, searching faces, making new combinations of features in his mind. As he walked, he got closet to the town's center.

As he made it near the center of the section, he spotted what looked like a tent city forming, made up of the visiting adventurers that couldn't find a room at an inn. Something that caught his eye, was what appeared to be a Half-orc being spoken too near the side of a building by two less-then-savory looking individuals.

Less than savory had Jerrit's name written all over it. He leaned casually on a vendor cart, watching. The orc might be with them, but by the body language, Jerrit deduced that might not be the case. He glanced almost haphazardly at the items on the cart, acting as if he was perusing the goods. Really, he was trying to hear the conversation.

The first thing Jerrit noticed was how nicely the half-orc was dressed. He was wearing nice clothing and his personal hygiene seemed nicer then about 95% of the people Jerrit had run into today. When compared to the men that were talking with him, it was obvious that he wasn't with them.

Jerrit smiled to himself as he took all this in. This orc was different, he could tell that much. Jerrit was impeccably dressed and bathed, but this creature almost (but not quite) put him to shame. He started in their general direction, not in a straight line, but in a way that made it seem more random.

As he got closer, he could see that the two low lifes seemed to be propositioning the half-orc for something, but the half-orc was wanting nothing to do with it.

Jerrit, looking to the world like an uninterested passerby, actually had to control his reaction to chuckle at the situation. Anyone looking that much like a vagrant propositioning someone so impeccably dressed, even a half orc, was an idiot. Jerrit finally made it close enough to hear, leaning against a building nearby as if watching the crowd. He vaguely thought it would be interesting to be a half orc.

From this close he could see and hear that their conversation was starting to go south as slurs where starting to be thrown.

Jerrit finally decided that enough was enough. This was getting out of hand, and someone needed to step in. He supposed he was that someone. He had done stupider things in his lifetime.

The human that was talking to the half-orc spotted Jerrit and looked at him, "I don't believe this concerns you, friend."

See Nathaniel for more

---

Lok

The half-elf left his northern hometown of Chillwater with a pack full of provisions and made his several-day-long journey south toward the grand city of Mrath Teeg, heeding the call that was issued. Lok had a feeling deep in his soul that an evil threat this imminent may be related to (or might even be the same as) the evils that took Lortaia those many years ago. The journey was not as bad as he'd expected, and it was made easier still around the halfway mark when he met a traveling salesman. He offered his clerical and protective services to the merchant in exchange for a ride to the city. Seeing as how the merchant was headed that way, he more than eagerly obliged, happy to have a "man of the cloth" to make his ride safer. Not to mention the company.

As Lok reached the city limits, he discovered that the lines ran out the gates by a long way. Clearly, the adventurers from the closer towns and villages would naturally get here sooner than he.

He thanked the salesman for the ride and offered a couple coppers, but the merchant raised a hand in protest and refused to take the coins. Lok smiled, gave the man a standard Pelorian clerical blessing, and made his way to the back of the line.

The city gate was a good distance away from where Lok was, but the guard presence was still there, making sure no new comers caused trouble in the line.

Right when a guard turned his back, a shady fellow with an unkempt stubbly beard decided to shove his way through the line. Which might not have been a huge problem, except he had a dagger in his hand. Lok saw this and moved to stop the man. He was too slow, though, because the man stuck his dagger into the kidneys of one of the other people in line. The pointed ears made it clear that the victim was an elf, who crumpled to the ground.

The man saw Lok closing in on him and he brandished the knife as if trying to ward him off before turning and trying to flee towards the city gate.

Lok broke into a full run after the man while calling for the guards. He intended to tackle him to the ground and subdue him to keep him from moving if he got close enough and let the guards deal with him, so he didn't take out his weapon while he ran.

The man wasn't as young as Lok or in as fit a condition and was quickly caught up with. Seeing that he wasn't going to get away he stopped and turned around, still brandishing his dagger. "You back the hell off Half-breed! Or I'll slice those pointed little ears off and shove 'em down your throat."

Lok saw the man turn suddenly. Sensing his own momentum may be too much to stop too quickly with the added weight of his armor and gear, he instead continued running straight toward him at full speed without slowing down, hoping that his armor would be enough to turn the blade away should the man decide to strike. As he got closer, he tucked his head down low, brought a shoulder up, and leapt at him with his arms spread so he could grapple him with a tackle. He tried to aim one hand to grab the guy's wrist so he could pin it down, hopefully knocking the blade free in the process. Here goes nothing, he thought right as he jumped.

The goon let out an audible "Oof." as Lok's charging body carried him to the ground. However, Lok wasn't able to get a grip on the man's dagger which he quickly used, stabbing Lok in the side (1 damage).

Lok sucked in a breath through gritted teeth when he felt the dagger penetrate his side. He rolled off the thug and jumped quickly to his feet. Now that the status quo has changed, Lok took a step back, took his morningstar in a readied grip, and slipped his shield over his forearm. He prepared to defend against another possible attack. He wasn't sure what this city's laws were regarding fights, but he figured he'd be safer if he were defending himself rather than assulting. Where the Nine Hells are those blasted guards? he thought.

As if on cue three guards showed up and joined Lok in surrounding the man, "Put down your dagger and surrender or we will kill you." one of them said to the man. "If I die, I will die with honor in the eyes of my Brothers." he said.

And die he did. Before Lok or the goon could act, the guard descended upon him and dealt with him swiftly. Once they made sure he was dead and had cleaned off their blades, one turned to Lok. "Thank you for your assistance Cleric."

"Think nothing of it, friend. Tell me, is there a church in the town square where I may carry his body to perform his last rites?" Lok asked. "It would be only fitting, I think." he continued. He was wondering if that would be a good enough excuse to bypass the long line and get a head start into the city.

"Unfortunately I can't let you take his body. The city deals with these 'Things' in a special way." The guard explained before looking around at the rest of the line, "But, since you jumped to help while everyone else just stood and gawked, I will let you bypass the line and go on in with us."

"Excellent, you have my thanks," Lok looked at the guard then back at the body on the ground, wondering what the guard meant by 'thing'. He asked, "I suppose the same would then apply to the unfortunate victim back there?" He pointed a finger behind his back where the first elf fell, then looked back to the guard, "Lead the way."

"His body will be taken to the temple of Corellon for burial." the guard said, referring to the Elf. "Poor bastard was just here to try to help the kingdom and all he gets for his trouble is a dagger in the kidney." he shook his head remorsefully and then led the way through the check point.

Lok continued following the guards while also keeping an eye open for any other suspicious activity. All the while, he was growingly amazed at how long the lines were. He would never have suspected this many adventurers or would-be adventurers would show up when the call went out. He was a bit humbled by the turnout, but kept quiet about it, more determined than ever to make sure he made the final cut - whatever that may be.

One of the guards stopped at the Elven Temple and took the corpse of the Elf in, while the rest of the group carried on. "The Temple of Pelor is up ahead if that is where you are going." The lead guard said as him and the rest of his men turned to go elsewhere. "Good luck in the tourney if that is why you are here."

The Cleric nodded at the guard. He then looked up ahead and just then only seemed to be seeing the city for the first time. It was vast. Indeed, he had never seen anything like it in his life.

Lok thought about the guard's words as he started walking... in the tourney... Perhaps it was just his naivete surfacing, but he never really gave much thought to how selecting adventurers would even go. It made sense that the weaker ones should be culled through some sort of tournament. Minutes passed as Lok continued walking while wondering what types of events the tourney would hold and what he would like to participate in when, suddenly, a familiar sight entered his vision. He shook his head and came back to reality and found that the object that caught his eye was the golden sunburst icon of Pelor hanging from numerous banners. Ah, here we are, he thought as he made his way up the stairs and in through the overlarge double doors. He figured it would likely be best to get to know the locals; he imagined he would be returning often to the temple.

The inside of the temple was very familiar to Lok with the exception of a noticeable extravagance that wealthy patrons can afford. He was almost immediately greeted by a priest of Pelor. "Greetings my son. Are you here for a pilgrimage?"

Lok smiled brightly at the priest, "Among other things, yes. My name is Lok, and I traveled here from the town of Chillwater when we received the missive seeking adventurers against some evil. I came as soon as I could."

"Ah, I see." the priest said with a bow of his head. "Our facilities are at your disposal. Should you need any assistance do not hesitate to ask any of the priests."

The cleric's smile never left his face. "You have my thanks, friend," he paused, "but first I have two questions. First, what may I call you? And secondly, can you direct me to a popular watering hole? I do not intend to drink, but as you may be aware, taverns seem to be magnets for those of, shall we say, 'shadier methods'. And I can find a number of good leads as an Pelorian exorcist." He grinned now, but it looked like there was a tinge of something else there, as if Lok enjoyed his job a little too much.

"Oh, you can just call me Priest, most visitors do." The priest said with a modest grin at the cleric's interest in his name. "And I must apologize for my lack of knowledge regarding the local taverns."

"As you will, Priest. Thank you for your time." Lok nodded respectfully, then made his way over to the side of the nave, where he picked up an unlit candle, lit it, and muttered a prayer to Pelor. He then gathered his things, made his way back out of the temple and started wandering the streets looking for either an inn to purchase a room or a tavern to see if he could make a few new contacts in the city. Whichever he found first.

He came across a tavern with a boar's head carved into a sign with the words, The Dire Boar carved underneath it, stood out among the rest.

Lok walked in and made his way to the bar, trying not to look too threatening to anyone, and avoiding eye contact for too long. He waved his hand, trying to get the barkeep's attention.

The barkeep picked up a silver piece from the counter after giving them two drinks, before heading over to Lok. "Can I help ya?"

"A stein of your best Dwarven stout, my good man," asked the cleric. He overheard the pair of men across the bar holding a cheers.

The barkeep looked him over once, "You sure you got the coin?"

Lok smiled warmly. "That depends, what are you charging?" His fingers found their way into his coin pouch and he started rubbing a silver and gold piece together in his hand to keep his hand occupied until a price was established.

"Dwarven ale is the best ale in the kingdom. Comes at a price of 10gp a flagon." The barkeep said.

Lok's shoulders slumped and he quickly looked crestfallen. "Oh, that's nearly ten times more than what they were charging back in my hometown," he complained. "Regardless, ten gold is too rich for my blood." Lok paused for a moment, thinking, "What can I get for under a silver?" he asked, still playing with the coins in his pouch, either not caring or not showing that the question made him look like a poor imbecile.

"We got the regular, local ale and some elven wines of a younger taste." the barkeep said.

Lok smiled, "Yes, an elven wine would be just fine. Thank you." His gaze kept wandering and landing on the men across the bar.

The man turned and grabbed a chalice and filled it with a bottle of wine with Elven markings. Once full he set it down in front of the cleric. "One silver."

The men he saw looked like a half-elf in leather armor and a half-orc. The half-orc stood out due to his spectacularly fine clothing and personal appearance.

Lok pulled out the silver and placed it on the bar, but his gaze never left the half-breeds. He felt a sort of instant empathy for the half-elf, but the half-orc was one such as he had never seen before. He must be some sort of noble, to be wearing clothing like that. I hope some thugs don't think he'd be an easy target to mug, thought Lok as he scanned the room once.

There was nothing interesting around the room that Lok could spot. However, the two down the counter that he was looking at earlier spotted him looking at them and both waved friendly.

The cleric raised his arm to wave back, but then he saw one of them get up to talk to the bard. Lok forgot his hand was still raised as the half-elf returned, so he began waving back. Ugh, you're making a fool of yourself. Pull it together, man! Remember why you're here. he silently berated himself and put his arm back down, looking to the barkeep to see if his drink arrived yet - something to distract him from staring.

The barkeep turned around and set the chalice down in front of him before turning back around and tending to the liquor.

Lok turned to his drink for a moment before he realized the bard had started to play. He thought it sounded like an interesting story of some rogue who was doing...something? He wasn't sure. During the performance, his attention kept alternating between the bard's song and the exotic half-orc. Before he realized it, the song was over, and Lok seemed to have missed most of it. Too bad he couldn't focus on it more.

He noticed that once the bard was done singing that the half-elf next to the half-orc applauded quite exuberantly and loudly. Quite odd unless he was a music enthusiast, but that wasn't something that Lok was able to say since he didn't know the person.

Lok applauded with the rest of the sober (or partly sober) patrons once the bard finished. He also took this opportunity to move closer to the two half-breeds. He intended to wait for an opportune moment to say hello and introduce himself, most especially because he was curious about the half-elf's exuberance.

"Greetings,"the half elf said suddenly to Lok. Seems the opportunity presented itself to the man he was looking at. "I was just about to expand on the true events of that bard's tale if you would like to listen." The half-elf continued as he waved the cleric over, a steady smile on his face as he looked back at the half-orc. "Where to begin, it is quite a long tale."

Before the Half-elf could start his tale, the Half-orc interrupted, "I think we should begin with introductions. It is impolite otherwise." he said, holding up his hand to stop his companion from going any further. He looked at Lok expectantly. First fine clothes and personal hygiene and now great etiquette and speech, this was quite a strange Half-orc indeed.

See Nathaniel for more

---

Yalala

Yalala sighed. She hated venturing into the city, but one couldn't live on lembas bread alone... well, they could, but you still needed ingredients to make it. That wasn't the only reason she was standing in line though, perhaps a part of her was a little lonely. Every so often she did venture into the surrounding cities and towns just to see what was going on. So perhaps she was just taking a look around without really knowing she was taking a look around. Still, standing in line was annoying and she swore she had glimpsed an orc earlier.

The line moved fairly quickly till a fight broke out between two of the people in line. A few fists were thrown before the guards rushed in and bashed a few heads and dragged the offenders away. It looked like two humans, but nothing else stood out about them.

Yalala got a peek of the scuffle ahead, but was otherwise unimpressed. She continued to wait, but did remove her articles of province, and all the papers that allowed her to be here.

It took a few more minutes before the line got moving again after everything was sorted out. It took nearly half an hour before she made it to the front of the line and to the check point, "State your name, occupation, and place of origin." the guard said.

"Yalala of Darkgrove." She stated and added a slight shrug, "Scout..." She supposed if she had to classify her skills into an occupation she'd consider herself a scout.

"Darkgrove? Where's that at?" The guard said, unsure of where that was and if it was even in the kingdom.

"In the western borderlands." Yalala stated. "Within the boundaries of the kingdom, but only just."

"You're out near the sea then." the guard said as he noted the location then passed the parchment off to a young man wearing a red robe with no hair. He smiled at Yalala as he tapped a thin stick with a fine wire wrapped around it against his folded arm.

"No, not that far." Yalala told him, her eyes following her papers. My how she hated dealing with people... "My people are forest folk."

The guard had already moved on to the next person in line as the young, bald man waved her over.

Yalala followed the mans instructions and approached the bald one with her papers.

He took the papers and then gently tapped the top of her hand which then shined with a faint glow and a glyph appeared before vanishing again. "There ya go, all set. Do enjoy our city." he said.

"What was that?" Yalala asked, taking her papers and packing them away in her things. "If you don't mind my asking..."

"That was a tag." The man said, "So if you get in trouble we know who you are if you try and lie."

"Ah..." Yalala said, looking down at her hand again. Without a word she proceeded through the gate, trying to decide how offended she was for being tagged like some kind of house pet.

The inside of the city was a sheer madhouse with a mess of people having set up makeshift merchant stalls near the gates.

Yalala sighed deeply, glad that all she had to do was restock her supplies. She was glad she'd left Rutger behind. He would have completely flipped his melon over all the sights and sounds. Not to mention the smells.

Before she set off she saw something that caught her eye. It looked like three guards and a Cleric of Pelor, one of the guards had an Elven body slung over their shoulder while the other had a human's body. Both bodies had blood on them, signalling that they were dead.

Yalala noticed, but she continued on. It wasn't her place to get mixed up in things she had no knowledge of. She was here to replenish her supplies and get back to her wanderings.

There was almost literally an endless set of options for Yalala to choose from, shop wise. She could shop at one of the makeshift merchants that were set up near the gates, or she could visit one of the permanent establishments.

In the past Yalala had experienced that at the stalls, where haggling was acceptable, one was apt to spend less money. So her eyes fell on the stalls as she passed by, browsing first before deciding where to stop.

Every stall she passed hollered at her, hoping to get her attention and to get her to buy their goods. "The finest, sharpest knives you'll find in town!", "Fresh fish, caught just this very morning from the river.", "Nice lightweight chainmail, light as air and strong as granite."

Yalala passed these, she glanced about, elf eyes taking everything in but ignoring their calls for her to buy their wares. She wasn't going to trust any seller who said their chain mail was as strong as stone, no matter how strong granite was. At the very less chain mail should be as strong as steel and besides, if she wanted chainmail she would just return home and higher Tha'kanner to craft her a methril shirt and trows to go beneath her leather armor.

Once she passed through the gaggle of vendors she was able to see the permanent vendors in their lavish stores.

Yalala found this area quieter and much more suitable to her shopping needs. There were stalls and stores but she had traveled beyond the boastful rantings of the shit sellers. She slowed her pace, pulling the list she had made for herself from her pocket and browsed. She could do with a few empty flasks and vials... but if she could find a Ehlonna for a decent price she might not be able to pass it up.

There was a shop for nearly every category, all she had to do was find the one she wanted to visit and ask.

A selection of flasks and vials caught Yalala's eye and for the first time since entering the city, she stopped walking. She could buy these anywhere but something about the way the sunlight shone through the canopy of awnings above, had pointed these out to her specifically. Vannay had always said, "Take a moment when your eye is drawn, perhaps it's Ka trying to say something to you." Ka of course being no deity in particular but what her people believed to be the force that draws and turns all living things. So Yalala had stopped and looked at the selection of brightly shining bottles and their flask cousins beside.

As she looked over the flasks and vials the store owner spotted her and walked over to her. "Admiring the craftsmanship, aren't you?"

Yalala continued looking at the vials and saw nothing particularly crafty about them. "How much?" She asked, not very interested in their craftsmanship.

"Five gold pieces each." the lady said, setting down a flask she had been polishing.

"That's a little excessive don't you think?" Yalala asked. She picked up one of the vials. Small, glass, simple. They certainly weren't worth five gold.

"The sand comes from the Shadeless Expanse itself and is heated up and melted into glass right here behind the store." The woman said.

"So it's made from the same sand as almost all other glassware in the province..." Yalala said, unimpressed. "That doesn't make it worth five gold."

"No, you are mistaken." The lady said, "Most glass in the province is made from sand harvested on the shores of our neighboring seas or from the little desert that resides within our kingdom. The Shadeless Expanse is a desert that seems to go on forever and is so large that it would cover all but a few miles of our kingdom. It is full of creatures and barbaric nomads that would as soon as eat you then look at you."

"And that's supposed to make the sand special?" Yalala asked, appraising the small vial for herself.

D20 = 17 + 1 skill modifier = 18.

Yalala couldn't see anything special about the glass vial under her scrutiny and seriously questioned the current price tag.

"The sand makes a significantly stronger glass product." the woman said defensively.

"Uh huh..." Yalala said, looking at the vial in her hands. "I'll give you two gold."

"I'm sorry, but those items are not up for negotiations. If you wish for a cheaper product you may wish to look inside the store." She added.

"Honestly?" Yalala said, holding up the tiny vial. "You're not even going to try and haggle with me? You're special vial made from special sand..."

"I'm sorry if you can't appreciate the value of such a vial." the woman said, putting her hands on her hips. "If you want a vial for two gold then you can visit the inside of the shop which has a wide variety of lesser glass products."

Yalala looked at the shop keep, a little suspicious at her tones and trying to sense her motives. Surely a cheap glass vial wasn't worth this level of attitude,

D20=14+2=16 sense motive.

You sense that she isn't trying to swindle you. Maybe just wanting you to purchase something and leave.

After a moment of consideration Yalala decided that it was alright to check things out inside and slipped beneath the awning, entering the shop.

Inside the shop was the largest display of glassware Yalala had ever seen. All displayed neatly and orderly across the interior of the store. Along every shelf and wall hung a sign that read, Broken items will be paid for by the person responsible.

Seeing that sign Yalala was very careful not to knock her pack into anything. She browsed the glassware and looked about for the shop keep, already having another question.

The woman that she had spoken to outside had stayed outside to keep an eye on the external merchandise. Inside was a man who was sitting behind a counter with more glassware on it.

"Are these vials potion grade?" Yalala asked, indicating the less expensive assortment. She could afford to pay five gold for a vial, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Yea, as long as the substance isn't acid or something like that, these vials will hold anything you want to put in them." the man behind the counter said.

"And these flasks?" Yalala asked, pointing.

"Same." the man said as he shifted to glance at the flasks she was referring too. "If you want ones that'll hold acid yet still shatter when thrown, those are over there near the back."

"Are these made from supposedly special sand as well?" Yalala asked, thinking that she'd already decided to buy a few of the vials, but if she could get acid grade glass it was worth taking a look.

"Nah. The special glass is all outside." The man explained simply.

"How much?" She asked just as simply.

"They are two gold a piece." The man said as he watched her peruse the stock.

"And the flasks?" She asked, expecting him to say three.

And she expected correctly as the man behind the counter said, "Three gold for them."

"I'll take five each then." Yalala said and counted out twenty-five gold pieces to the shop keep.

The man took and counted out the coins. Once he was satisfied with the coins he said, "Go ahead and pick out the ones you like."

Yalala picked out the ones she wanted and brought them to the counter.

The man looked over what she picked to make sure she was taking only what she had paid for. "Alright. Hopefully you'll enjoy our products and return to purchase more later."

Considering this shop keep had been pretty straight with her Yalala decided to ask. "I need to pick up a few more supplies. Can you point me to a few trustworthy shops where I won't get cheated?"

"Well, the stores around here wouldn't get too far if they cheated their customers. Especially with the Commerce Guild keeping an eye on everything." the man said loudly before leaning closer, "But keep away from Theron's shop. He is the head of the Commerce Guild and a wizard of some renown. Theron runs a magical item emporium and word has it that his items either don't work properly, work not as well as claimed, or has backfired on the person using it."

"I'll keep that in mind." Yalala told him, packing away the vials and flasks in her belongings. "Thank you again."

"You're welcome. Come back anytime." The man said as she left.

Yalala left, pushing the vials and flasks she'd packed into her larger satchel. She blinked as she exited back out into the sun, not bothering to adress the woman who had manned the outdoor stall.

Nor did the woman move to address Yalala. She was busy watching a couple look over her stock.

Yalala continued down the street, perhaps interested in some rations or something with which to treat Rutger. It might make up for her having been gone all day. She looked about, keeping an eye out for that quiver she'd heard about also.

The stores lined the roads ahead of her as she walked around. All she had to do was look at the goods out front to determine their specialty.

Suddenly a selection of caltrops caught Yalala's eye as she browsed and she decided to stop and take a look.

The shopkeeper was currently helping a man try on a travel pack, so he was unable to come over and bug Yalala into a sale.

Yalala appraised the caltrops for herself (15) and resisted picking one up, on the off chance they might be laced with poison. She didn't expect that they were, but one could never be too careful.

The caltrops looked to be pretty well crafted from steel and look very sharp.

The shopkeeper finally finished the sale and moved over to help Yalala. "You find something you like?" He asked.

"Are these poisoned?" Yalala asked, indicating the caltrops. "I imagine they aren't but one can't be too careful."

"Oh Pelor no!" the shop keep said, horrified by the prospect. "I'd most likely end up killing myself if I did that. Especially with the number of times I poke and jab myself with those damnable things."

"Hrmm..." Yalala picked up one of the triangular spiked twists of metal and examined it, APPRAISING (15) it for herself.

The caltrops have not change in anyways since the last time Yalala appraised them.

oops, i didn't notice that post earlier.

That's ok.

"I believe you will be able to see the expert craftsmanship in those caltrops." The man said as she eyed them.

"I'm finding it difficult to visualize a circumstance in which I would need to hobble a horse or a man..." Yalala said, picking one up and turning it over in her hands. Her difficulty visualizing a use for these was probably due to her lacking imagination.

"These things are going to be your first line of defense when it comes to camp security when traveling." The keeper began to explain, "You scatter these around your camp or tent and should some bandit try to creep upon you, they will have a hard time making it through the field of painfully sharp objects to slit your throat."

"Hrmmm..." Yalala said, looking over the caltrop in her hand. "I don't often have issues with bandits..." And being an elf not many could creep up on her in the dark any way.

"Not many people did till this evil fell upon us." The man said, looking a bit saddened. "But now, reports of bandits on the roads and woods flood in from all parts of the kingdom."

"Evil?" Yalala asked. She'd been traveling among the outer baronies. Mrath Teeg was the largest town she had come to in quite a while. She'd heard nothing of bandits.

"Yea, but from the rumors I have been hearing, that is the least of our problems." The man said as he looked around to see if anyone was listening, "I've heard reports of the dead coming up out of their graves and attacking lost travelers."

"That kind of magic was outlawed ages ago." Yalala said, perusing another bit of table.

"Doesn't mean there isn't anyone doing it still." The man said, following her over to the next display of goods, "Some people just wanna break the laws."

"Hmmm." Yalala said, browsing. She entertained the idea that this man was simply telling her things to encourage the purchase of his wares. She attempted to sense his motives.

17

Yalala cannot sense any form of deceit from the friendly shop keeper. She also gets a feeling that maybe, not everyone is out to lie to her.

whatev lol

Perhaps he wasn't lying, but that didn't mean she need worry. She'd gone for how long without running into these so called bandits. "So what's this?" She asked, pointing to an interesting looking instrument which she had no prior experience. "Is it specially designed to also deter bandits?"

"Depends." The man said as he picked up the scythe. "This is a farm tool, but you give this a few skilled swings in the direction of some bandits, it'll probably deter them."

Yalala made an "ehh" sort of expression. "How much for the caltrops?" She asked.

"One gold for a bag." The man said, sounding proud of having such a great price.

"Really?" Yalala asked, somewhat surprised. "How many to a bag?"

"Not sure of the exact number, but each bag is big enough that you could spread them comfortably in a, roughly, five foot area." The man said.

"In that case, I'll take two." Yalala said, handing over two gold coins.

The man smiled as he took the two gold and handed her two bags of clatrops. "Is there anything else I can interest you in?"

"Do you know where I can purchase magical items?" Yalala asked. "Somewhere I won't get cheated."

The man's smile fell a bit as he looked around, "Hate to tell ya this, but there is only one magic shop in this entire city. It's called The Required Component and it's owned by the head of the Commerce Guild, a Gnome named Theron Vision Changer by non-Gnomes."

"I was warned about him by the glass smith." Yalala said, looking over the shop keeps wares.

"They should have been more careful saying anything. If it gets back to him he can pull his little strings and they could lose their store." The man said as he pretended to show her the scythe some more.

"I wouldn't say anything." Yalala said, "Not now that I know any way. What I'm searching for can wait. I probably don't have enough currency any way."

The man snorted at what she said before following it up with, "Not with his prices anyways." he said before quickly looking around. "Got a bit ahead of myself didn't I."

"That's alright." Yalala said. "Thanks for these." She held up the bag of caltrops. She added them together and began to pack them away in her gear.

"Oh, thanks for these." The man said, holding up the coins. With the transaction over and conversation appearing to be likewise, he turned away and went to help another customer.

Yalala finished packing away her new purchase and noted at the added weight. They weren't heavy, but she knew she would need to keep that in mind. Once she reunited with Rutger that wouldn't matter though. She looked at the list she had brought with her and decided she would locate soap next.

Soap was a pretty ritzy item here in the city and so Yalala found it at a distant shop that seemed to tailor to the wealthy citizens. She would also notice that this was probably the reason they had little to no customers at the moment.

Being raised in a fine family, soap was one of the few commodities that Yalala refused to do without. She didn't consider herself... pampas, but she refused to smell. She entered the shop, paying no notice to the finery about the place.

A rather nicely dressed woman walked up to Yalala and gave her a once over, "Can I...help you?" she asked, fully expecting Yalala to ask for directions elsewhere.

"I'm looking for something without fragrance." Yalala told the woman. "Or as mild a fragrance as possible." Of course in Yalala's mind she had every right to be here and a soap lacking in fragrance would be better suited for her travels. You couldn't hunt for food smelling like frankincense. "Perhaps with a mild exfoliate."

"Oh, you wish to purchase some soap?" The woman asked, even though it was pretty obvious. "All we have is over there along the wall." She said as she pointed it out to her.

"I can see that." Yalala said, looking where the woman had pointed and back to her. "Now I would like you to direct me to something with a mild fragrance. Preferably none at all." Yalala didn't like the tone of this woman. She acted as if Yalala weren't worthy of the wares she had to sell. Yalala's gold was as good as the next persons and it wasn't as if an average soap should cost that much any way.

The woman seemed a bit bothered that she was going to have to actually take her over to them. "Follow me." She said as she walked over to the soaps, the fragrances hitting Yalala as she moved near. "We only have a few that are not fragranced." She said, pointing at a few that were wrapped in plain parchment.

Yalala reached for one of the wrapped packages and found that by sniffing it, it still smelled of the fragrances around it. "What are the prices of these?" She asked, indicating the ones lacking in fragrance.

"Those are the non-special soaps and only run five silver pieces." The woman said with disinterest.

"In that case," Yalala handed the woman a gold piece and selected her soap.

"Hm, thank you." The woman said, waiting just long enough to make sure that Yalala only took two before heading off to help another customer that just entered.

Yalala rolled her eyes at the woman and made to put the soap in her pack. As she swung the pack back on and made her leave a few bars of soap were brushed off the shelf, but she was gone, ignoring the small mess she'd made.

Yalala rolled her eyes at the woman and made to put the soap in her pack. As she swung the pack back on and made her leave a few bars of soap were brushed off the shelf, but she was gone, ignoring the small mess she'd made.

As Yalala exited the store, it appeared that the town had become even busier as more people had been let in. If this kept up it looked to be shoulder to shoulder in the main square.

Yalala was not a fan of being so close to so many people. She'd never even seen this many elves in one place in her life. She did her best to avoid bumping into people.

Bumping into people seemed to be nearly impossible, but most people didn't seem to care, as long as their coin purse was still there. However, one person Yalala bumped into took offense. "Hey, watch it Knife-ears." they said and gave her a hard shove. Gimme a balance check

17+2+19

Yalala very nearly toppled over (?) from the shove and found herself reacting before she thought about it. "Watch yourself round eye!" She retorted back, not really sure where the "round eye" phrase had come from... she never had much of an imagination any way.

"Me? If you werent daydreaming about your next tree-hugging session you wouldn't have bumped into me." the man said not relenting, "You'd better watch yourself Leaf-brains, people round here dont take kindly to uppity Elves who think they run the place."

He was trying to goad her into an altercation, she shouldn't have responded in the first place, but hind sight was always 2020. "Excuse me." She said in an attempt to leave this idiot behind before it became of something.

The man was just as unhappy to see her walk away as he was having her bump into him. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was I keeping you from some fancy slumber party in your little tree house? Uppity little, pointed ear bitch." He mumbled that last part more to himself.

She could hear him and she wanted to turn around and hand him his face, but she chose not to. It would not do her or Rutger to get in trouble while in town. He wouldn't at all be pleased if she became detained.

"Excuse me, my Lady Elf." Came a kindly voice from behind her, sounding as if the person was seeking her attention.

"I don't want any trouble." Yalala said immediately as she turned around.

"Nor should you Lady Elf." Said the man, as she turned around she saw a young, timid looking man wearing the robes of a priest of Pelor. He took a step back as she turned around, just incase she was still angry about that rude man. "I am a priest of Pelor and I couldn't help but over hear your altercation with that man. I hope that he does not reflect your opinion of the people of this fine town, and I was hoping to show you our hospitality by offering you a bunk in our church."

"Thank you, but I've no intentions of spending the night." Yalala said. "My intentions are to finish my shopping and get back to my friend."

"Oh, I see." The man said, noticeably disappointed, "However, you should know that there is a chance they will not let you back into the city." He added, hoping that she will heed his advice. "With as many people as they have let in already, they won't be able to let anyone else in after awhile. Except residents, that is."

"Ok?" Yalala asked, not sure why she gave a damn. "Why would I care about that? I don't live here and I've only come to trade."

"Oh, my apologies." The man said, "I thought that you were here for the tournament. I'm sorry I wasted your time then." with that the man turned to leave.

Yalala was curious about the tournament, but was more interested in getting out of town before someone else decided to find fault in her being an elf again.

The priest left and within seconds was lost in the crowd, leaving Yalala by herself again.

Wishing to be rid of this city Yalala followed the scent of food to the produce market. On her list were a few rations and something for Rutger. She forsook the remaining items on her list for getting out of here.

The smell of food was nearly covered up by the smell of the unwashed masses squishing each other in the sector, but once she got closer it was easy to track down.

Yalala very nearly gave up, intending to leave, but finally she noticed a few ducks hanging among the eaves of the stalls. Ducks didn't interest her, but she had at least reached the food.

And now that she had reached them, there were food stalls as far as the eye could see. All offering varying options of meats, vegetables, breads, sweets, etc.

Salt. Salt was first on Yalala's list. She could hunt and forage for herself just fine, but salt was instrumental in curing meat to make it last longer. A few rations would help supplement her diet when game moved on, but she hardly wanted to carry enough to survive on. So salt, basic field rations and something tasty for Rutger. Compensation for leaving him on his own all day.

As she looked, she managed to locate someone that looked to be specializing in travel foods and supplements.

Yalala approached, squeezing through the throng. She nearly tumbled over a sack of nearby grain, but managed to right herself by the time she made it to the stall.

There were two other people at the stall right now so the clerk's attention was divided. He made eye contact with Yalala and nodded a greeting to her. "I'll be with ya as soon as I can ma'am."

Yalala nodded, glad for the ma'am and to be out of the way of the gathering hoard. She had to admit she was interested about this tournament thing. She was just considering going and having a look for herself when remembered being shoved by the unwashed hooligan. No. No she wouldn't go take a look. She would buy some rations, one of those hanks of salted pork she saw hanging from so many stalls and leave to find Rutger.

A minute or two pass before the man came back, it was then that she notices that it was a halfling standing on a platform so he is eye level with the customers, "Sorry 'bout that. Can I help ya?"

"It's alright." She said. "I'm looking for some field rations. Something non perishable and light weight."

"Then you came to the right stall. I have everything you need to eat on the go." He said as he started pointing out things to Yalala that he thought she might need. Salt, rations, jerky, bread, etc.

Yalala could smell salt, but she didn't see any. Which was normal considering it was nearly as precious as sugar. "Do you have any salt?" She asked to start with.

"I, uh, I think I do." He said as he looked around the counter and then behind the counter. "Aha! Here it is." He said as he disappeared behind the counter.

"Great." Yalala said happy that she'd found another kind person. "How about..." She thought for a moment. Rations were simple, things you couldn't exactly forage for. Oats and grains, basically just calories you couldn't readily find. "What do you have in the way of ration packs?"

"What kind ya looking for?" The halfling asked.

"Oh... grains... fruits... Just something I can toss in my pack for the lean weeks." Yalala told him.

"Ah, got just the thing." He said as he dug through his inventory and pulled out a few things for her.

Yalala looked through the ration packs and not being very picky about survival food she decided that they were exactly what she was looking for. "How much?" She asked, sampling a raisin to make sure they were still good.

"Five gold each." The halfling said, proud of his prices.

Yalala picked out a variety of the ones she preferred and handed the halfling his gold.

"Thank ya kindly, Ma'am." the halfling said as he counted the gold and then checked to make sure it was real.

Yalala took her purchase and moved on after thanking him, looking for her last item, a hank of salted pork for Rutger.

None of the stalls she passed had anything substantial, or fresh looking, till she stumbled upon a butcher's shop. Inside was large quantities of fresh meat, both raw and cooked.

Yalala stood aside, waiting to be noticed. After what had happened on the street earlier she didn't want to risk causing any unwanted trouble.

It was a human woman behind the counter and it looked like she was struggling with a rather large haunch of meat. "I'll...I'll be with ya in a bit miss." she said as her knees began to visibly shake.

Yalala began to step closer, intending to help her. "Do you need some help?"

"No, no. I've got this." The woman said as she finally struggled the meat onto a hook hanging from the ceiling. "Ah, see. All's good. Now, what can I help you with?

"Salted pork I think." Yalala said. "Something I can carry with me and cut on for a while. It's for a friend."

"Ah, well we have plenty options." She said as she moved over to the other side of the room, "What size are you wanting it?"

"What would you recommend for a non-typical large... large breed dog?" Yalala asked.

"How 'large, large'?" The woman asked curiously, "Cause it could be a 4-5lb. haunch or a whole pig covered in salt."

"As large as a small pony." Yalala said. "I think a whole tenderloin might last a couple days..."

"You sure know how to pick your traveling companions." The woman said with a chuckle as she reached into a strangely cooled cabinet and pulled out a nice sized tenderloin. "Is this suitable?"

Yalala exhaled, thinking. "How big is one of those from a steer?" She asked, thinking the three foot strip of pork might not be enough to make up for her extended absence.

"Oh, it'd make your large friend quite happy." the woman said as she put the pork back.

"How much?" Yalala asked. "Oh and can I get sliced?" She held up her fingers to indicate about an inch. It would be easier to carry much less use for treats.

"One gold a pound." The woman said as she prepared to slice the meat up, she waited till Yalala said yes to the price before dedicating to the slice.

Yalala looked at the diagram on the wall and mentally calculated how heavy a tenderloin might be... she didn't see this costing much more than about ten gold. "I'll take it."

The store clerk nodded and began chopping up the piece of meat for her. Once she was finished, she bagged it up and handed it to Yalala.

Yalala sampled the first slice as she waited for her package. Once she had it she thanked the woman, handed over the gold and packed the package in her backpack which felt far too full after her day of shopping.

The woman thanked Yalala for her patronage before returning to restocking her store.

Yalala nodded before stepping out into the street, hoping it was less crowded now.

Just barely, she
'd noticed. The sun was starting to set and it looked like some of the stalls and shops had started closing up for the night.

It was time to leave then. Yalala shouldered her bag and at a fast walk hurried for the main gates.

Her trip to the main gates was uneventful and she easily made her way out of the city.

Yalala was glad that she'd managed to make it to the gate before sundown. Many cities locked their gates and she had not wanted to be left behind with Rutger out here waiting for her. She whistled long and high, hoping he hadn't wandered so far he couldn't hear her.

There was a pause before a bark could be heard in the distance and it sounded as if it was making its way towards her.

Yalala smiled as the great shaggy rust colored beast came bounding through the trees. She took a disk of the meat she'd just bought and spun it into the air for him to catch.

The dog caught the meat with ease and immediately set to devouring it.

"There." Yalala told him. "Does that make up for me being gone all day?"

Rutger let out an approving "ruff" as he continued to gnaw on the apology treat.

"Come on." She said as she met him, patting his great shaggy side heavily. He was almost as tall as she was. "Let's get out of here. They don't seem to like Elves in these parts and a man in the market mentioned something about bandits."

Rutger followed closely behind her with the piece of meat still in its mouth. He looked around, keeping an eye out for these bandits or any of these Elf-haters.

As they walked she took the items she had purchased and distributed their weight between them. Giving him most of it considering he would hardly notice the extra weight.

Rutger took the weight without a care. He looked up at her as if asking, "What next?"

Once she finished she patted him on the rump and asked, "So you want to stop somewhere and make camp or keep going through morning?"

Rutger scratched at the ground, hoping she will understand that he thought they should make camp here.

"Alright." Yalala groaned a bit. "For a guy who spent the day relaxing you'd think you'd still have energy enough to keep going."

Rutger stopped walking and turned back towards the city. His ears perked up for a bit before they dropped and he let out a growl.

Approaching Yalala was a group of six Elves. Five of them were nicely armed and armored while the one in the middle was very well dressed and groomed.

Yalala was just about to untie her bed roll from Rutger when she noticed the elves coming. She sighed and checked her supply of arrows.

The Elf in the middle saw her double checking her inventory of arrows and put his hands up a bit to show he meant to harm. Also the guard's hands were no where near the hilts of their blades. "Excuse me madam Elf. May I have a moment of your time? Are you Yalala of Darkgrove? Daughter of Mejis of Darkgrove?"

"Who asks?" Yalala said, hoping to learn more before divulging her heritage.

"I am Ambassador Lai'or T'soni of the Forest of Mrath." He introduced himself and bowed gracefully. "I was chosen by our brethren to represent all Elf kind in the political affairs of Mrath and I currently need your assistance."

"I'm not a politician." Yalala told him and having never had use for or desire to seek political goals, turned Rutger by his bridal and began to walk away.

Lai'or kept pace easily, "Nor am I looking for one. What we are looking for is a warrior, and a warrior you are."

"Not likely." Yalala said, still walking. "Archers do not make warriors and nor does my lack of proficiency with a blade. Find you're warrior elsewhere."

"Archers are the first to draw blood in any confrontation and second most lethal weapon in a defending army's arsenal. Second only to artillery." Lai'or began, "Also, there are no other Elves of your skill currently signed up for the tourney and Elvenkind needs a strong champion to represent it."

Yalala actually laughed. "There it is." She said shaking her head. "The tournament. Unless my father has sent you a writ of duty to my family, in no way do I intend to join some silly tourney."

"This could be the most important event this century, and you refer to it as 'some silly tourney'?" He said, honestly shocked.

"Very little is ever accomplished at the tourneys other than obtaining bragging rights, which I have no use for." Yalala told him. "So I say again," She stopped this time and turned to address him. "Do you have a writ of duty signed, sealed and sent my my father?"

The Ambassador looked at her dumbfounded for a few seconds before asking, "How long have you been away from civilization?"

"A while." Yalala told him, walking again and becoming rather irritated.

The Ambassador took a few long strides to put himself in front of Yalala, while he didn't mind walking and talking, he felt it didn't work with this situation. "Then perhaps you should read this." he said as he handed Yalala a piece of paper.

It had been so long since Yalala had read Elvish that for a moment, her eyes refused to do so.

When her eyes finally began to register the language she was able to read the paper. It was one of the fliers that had been passed around the kingdom about the mysterious dark force at work and how nothing has yet to be able to stop its advance. It also mentions the tourney as a way to assemble a team of the best warriors in the kingdom to fight against this evil and the rewards that would be granted to them for their heroic deeds.

Still, she was not interested. She held out the flier and said, "This is not a writ of duty from my father."

The Ambassador took the flier back with a shake of his head. "You know, I have been in territory negotiations with Goblinoids that made more headway then this." He folded the flier and put it back in his pocket. "I know the name of every Elf on the lists for the tourney, and none of them are as prestigious as yours. If you do this, not only will you bring honor to the Elven people, but also to your family name and yourself."

"And if I fail I shame my family for generations to come." Yalala told him and began walking again.

"Believe me, if you fail, no one in the kingdom will be alive long enough to think about a shamed Elven family." Lai'or said as he kept pace with her again, getting a bit aggravated that his shoes were getting more dirt on them then he had expected. "There is only success and glory, as failure will bring death and destruction to all."

It was her turn to stop walking. She sighed. "Alright, explain."

The Ambassador was caught off guard by her voluntarily stopping. When he brought himself back to the moment, he cleared his throat before speaking. "Nothing normal is behind the darkness that is growing in the Kingdom. There are rumors circulating around the city about what it is, but the King's spell casters have been spending days scrying and the results are pointing towards a hostile force working to bring around pain and suffering. A hostile force of surprising strength and abilities."

"And a few heroes determined by a tourney are going to be able to stop it?" Yalala asked. "Has an oracle foreseen this or, has it been foretold in legend?"

"No prophecy or oracle has been able to give any information on the events taking place now." Lai'or said with a sigh of woe, "It seems that whatever this is, it was not expected. This tourney is find the best and strongest in the Kingdom to move against it."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "An you really think I can do anything to stop this thing if I were to win? Archery and minor swordplay cannot compare to some looming dark evil."

"Oh, Elders no." The Ambassador said before realizing how bad that sounded and adding, "Not by yourself. The tourney is going to assemble a group of adventurers to fight together."

He'd had her until he promised her company with people. "I don't think I'm your elf..."

The Ambassador's face went visibly disappointed when she did a verbal 180 and went back to being unconvinced, "Yes! Yes you are! You are the only one." he said intently. "I have checked and rechecked the lists and you are the only one. The rest are farmers, shepherds, and the like."

Yalala didn't believe that. "I can hardly believe that." She told him. "In all the land I'm the only elf with any training what so ever?"

(I'd like to try a bluff check or whatever I roll to see if he's lying.)

Yalala can tell that he is not lying and, if his face is anything to go by, the rest of the Elves in the lists are quiet sad.

She still found it hard to believe, but pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine." She sighed.

Lai'or's eyes brightened and a gleeful smile grew on his face. "Wonderful! I am glad you finally came back around." He turned and faced the town, "Now if you will follow me I will take you to your lodgings for the night."

"Can I confer with council first?" Yalala asked, but there was no one to speak to but the dog. The very, very large dog.

"Um...sure?" Lai'or said as he looked curiously between her and the dog as he silently wondered exactly HOW long she had been outside of civilized life. With that he took a few steps away to give her and the dog some privacy.

"What do you think?" Yalala asked Rutger when the elf turned his back. "You want to go on an adventure?"

The dog panted excitedly and barked a few times in confirmation. Seems that an adventure is exactly what he wanted.

Yalala narrowed her eyes at him. "Sometimes I don't even know who you are any more." She told him and kissed his nose. "Come on dummy." She ruffled the fur atop his head and mounted him. Riding past Lai'or she asked, "You coming?"

Lai'or watched as she rode past on her dog and shook his head. "Perhaps I should lead the way?" He said as he walked quickly to keep up with her, "Considering how you don't know where you are going."

"I'm going back to town." She told him. "That is where the tourney is being held correct?"

"Well yes, but I am taking you to the Willow Lodge in the Emerald District." Lai'or said as if she should know what that entails. There was a second's pause before he realized that Yalala had no idea what that entailed. "The Willow Lodge is the premiere Inn for Elves."

"And you expect me to be a champion of the people by staying in an elite inn for Elves near or in a city that hates elves?" Yalala asked.

"When you put it that way it makes any establishment in the city seem objective to Elves." The Ambassador said with a shake of his head, "Everything in the Emerald District is run and owned by Elves and is, therefore, friendly to our kind. Also, you're not the champion of anything yet. You still have to win the tourney."

"So I spent all day shopping in the market district when there was an entire district run by elves..." Yalala was aggravated by that. Immensely so.

"I wouldn't say 'run by elves'. It makes the humans nervous." Lai'or said as a warning. "But yes, you did." And with that he led her into The Emerald District.

---

Nathanial

Nathanial glanced around at the marvel of the city as he trudged along, in place it seemed. The line didn't seem to be moving much at all. He couldn't help but grumble a little. He was patient enough as far as it can go, but waiting in line was something he didn't enjoy doing at all. He always felt as though people were staying at him. It wasn't like he stunk or anything, he made sure of that. He bathed regularly about 2, sometimes 3, times a day. He perfectly understood the purpose behind lines and thoroughly enjoyed the exquisite order that they brought to everyday life, however this was ridiculous.

Several guards were keeping a very close eye on him, their hands resting oh-so-unsubtly on the hilt of their weapons. Everyone else in the line made it apparent that they didn't really care for his presence in the least.

Nathaniel hoped that the guards weren't trying to be secretive about their distrust of him. He hated the fact that people were like that around him. Once they got to know him, he changed just about all their minds. He wasn't anything at all how people tended to think of him and it gnawed at his heart just seeing it. He sighed and shifted in place. However much they disliked him, they'd have to deal with it, because he was not leaving this line until he was inside.

There wasn't any trouble with his line and it moved rather smoothly along, till he arrived at the entrance point. The guard began speaking, "Name, occupation, and..." the guard stopped when he looked up and actually saw who was standing before him. He hesitated before waving another guard over and conversing in hushed tones.

Nathaniel couldn't help but grumble as the guard called for another. "Excuse me, sir. I am Nathaniel Alastair Kenneth Helefern." He placed a well manicured hand to his breast and bowed slightly. "I am here to prove myself worthy. Like all these others, I am an adventurer, come to this marvelous city to answer the call."

The guards were visibly taken aback when Nathanial spoke, and so well a that. They looked at each other then one shrugged, "Alright, but we're going to keep a close eye on you." He filled out the info and then handed it off to an impatient looking man holding a thin stick with a fine wire wrapped around it.

Nathaniel couldn't help but smile, clearly he had one over the two of them, at least in his mind. "Certainly, good sirs. I have nothing to hide." He smiled and bowed again before heading to the man with the stick. "I suppose that you are the one who marks me for watching?" He asked as he held out his hand. He was thus far just following suit with what he had observed from the line.

"And you're the one keeping me from the tavern." The man said obviously irritated at the delay. He tapped the top of Nathaniel's hand and then encircled his hand three times. His hand light up with a faint glow and three glyphs appeared.

Nathaniel looked down at the glyphs curiously. "A thousand apologies for delaying your consumption of alcohol. Perhaps you would permit me to show my appreciation by purchasing your next drink?"

The old man grunted with sarcasm, "Huh, yea. Like I'll ever be able to find you in all this chaos." He said before waving him off. Nathaniel could take that the conversation was over and he should move along.

That didn't make sense to Nathaniel at all. He had thought the purpose behind the glyphs was to locate him within all the chaos should he start any trouble. Now he wasn't sure at all what the glyph was for. He sighed and shook his head before moving on into the city. He did make note to the man's appearance. If he ran across him again, he certainly was going to purchase him a drink.

The town was full of people both adventurers and citizens, while the air was permeated with the shouts of people selling different kinds of goods from thrown together little stalls. Their even seemed to be a little tent city setting up in the area's "town center".

Nathaniel could not help but glance around at the large variety of people within the city walls. It was overcrowded and after spending so much time alone with his mentor, he found the crowds to be slightly overbearing. He moved off to the side of the street and sought the blessed solitude of the shadows.

As Nathaniel approached the side of the street near the shadows, he caught the eye of a few, less-then-savory people. One man, who looked human but the mess of scars and the missing ear made it difficult to tell, moved away from the wall he was leaning on and took a step towards Nathaniel. "Why hello 'der Tusks. You wouldn't be interested in a little work wouldja?"

Nathaniel knew that first impressions were important and if he were to simply attack the man for the offense of calling him by anything other than his name, they would certainly take him as an orc. That just would not do, not do at all. He held up a well manicured hand in objection and shook his head. "I say thee nay, though I did come here in search of occupation, however temporary, not with the likes of someone who finds themselves unable to speak in proper vernacular." He placed his hand upon his breast and bowed his head to the thug. "My name is Nathaniel Alastair Kenneth Helefern, and I must insist that you call me thus. My name is not, nor has it ever been or ever shall be Tusks."

"Ah, come now friend." The human's half-elf friend said as he picked at the crud under his fingernails with a dagger. "We ain't wanting no trouble, just looking fer someone that wants ta make a quick gold piece or two."

"Yea, or two." The human said with a grin.

"I must insist that you call me by name when addressing me. We have only just met, you do not have the right to call me friend." Nathaniel explained as he looked the group over. They were clearly delinquents, hiding in the shadows for reasons beyond that of his own. He wished for solitude, it was clear however that he would not find it here.

"Aw, you're gonna hurt my feelings. You saying we ain't friends?" The human said as he took a few more steps forward.

"I do believe I stated just that. Friends know each other. We have just met and still you have not introduced yourself." Nathaniel explained, crossing his arms across his massive chest.

"You can call me Sir." the one eared man said, "Or Boss. What eva' takes your fancy."

"Titles like that are suitable only for one who is in a leadership position." Nathaniel told him with a sneer. "You are neither my leader, nor my friend, therefore a proper introduction is required. I gave my name, now traditionally you would state yours." The man's ignorance of regular pleasantries was certainly not lost on Nathaniel. The longer he conversed with these fools, the more uncomfortable he became.

The guy stopped smiling and looked Nathaniel up and down. "I think this little Green-Skin thinks he's betta' then us." he said to the half-elf who responded with, "Ain't nothing worse then an uppity Pig Mouth."

Nathaniel knew they were trying to provoke him. "As a matter of fact, I am better than you. You two are a disgrace to your races. There isn't anything worse than a fool who cannot even speak properly."

"You best watch your tongue. Don't think the guards will care too much if carve ya up a bit." The human said as he pulled a short sword from its scabbard and the Half-elf joined his friend with his dagger.

"I believe that the guards will have more to worry about the state of affairs in which they will find the two of you if you try anything." Nathaniel replied, keeping his arms crossed. Their weapons did not frighten him at all. If they truly knew how to handle the weapons, it would not have taken them so long to pull them out. Clearly they had wanted to discuss things first, fearful of his size and power, which he had yet to reveal after all. It was perhaps the wisest thing they had done in all their lives. However, he simply stood his ground, arms crossed and looked at him. "You shall receive but one warning from me. If you persist in this brash display of testosterone-induced foolishness, I will have no choice but to defend myself. If you attempt to strike me, I will defeat you and leave you begging for my mercy."

"You think very highly of yerself, Tusk." The man said before suddenly stopping his advance and looking over at someone else. "I don't believe this concerns you, friend." he said to an advancing Half-elf.

Jerrit stopped next to Nathaniel, a vague sort of smile on his face. "Concern? Oh, no, not really. It only makes me slightly apprehensive." Jerrit wondered if the two thugs would even understand his little play on words. "After all, a two on one seems hardly fair." His grin was one of self confidence and had a certain roguish quality to it. "And furthermore, how can you decide if I am a friend until you know my name?" He held out his hand to the thugs. "Jerrit Sahlia, nice to meet you." He lifted his hand again before they had a chance to grasp it. Some part of Jerrit was concerned that no one in this city had heard of him.

"I suppose that you would prefer if I thought lowly of myself. If I did, perhaps I would join you for such little monetary gain as a single piece of gold. But nay, I speak only the truth when I say I am superior to you. I do not believe myself to be your better, I know it to be truth. As I am certain that this fine gentleman would concur." Nathaniel said, inclining his head to indicate Jerrit. He bowed slightly to him. "It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Jerrit Sahlia, I am Nathaniel Alastair Kenneth Helefern. I do not need your assistance in this matter however. You may perhaps enjoy the scene, should these arrogant vagabonds chose to attempt to strike me however."

The men were obviously a bit more cautious now that there were two instead of one. The human waved his hand in dismissal, "I ain't gonna waste anymore' a my time on you Pig Mouth. Gonna find someone that aint so pompous." With that he and his friend turned and vanished into a nearby alleyway.

Jerrit had taken a step back, but when the two thugs left, he rubbed the back of his head, other hand on waist. "I suppose you could have had they not been complete cowards." He gave Nathaniel a grin, holding out his hand in friendly greeting. "That is quite the moniker, Nathaniel. I hope you do not mind me addressing you as such. Nathaniel Alastair Kenneth Helefern is a mouthful even on a good day."

"Names hold both power and meaning. To a friend, any of the first three would suffice." Nathaniel told him with a smile as he shook his hand. "Helefern is my clan's name. I wish only to make them proud by bearing it."

"I could not imagine you would do them any dishonor," Jerrit said. He gave a slight inclination of his head as he took his hand back. "As a matter of fact, you are the first I have met in this city who seems rational. And that alone does you a great service." Jerrit gestured towards the street. "What is your pleasure, Nathaniel? Would you do me the great honor of joining me in a drink?"

"It would indeed be a pleasure." Nathaniel replied with a nod. "It would be an honor to hear your story, Jerrit Sahlia." He was very pleased to have met a non-unsavory person already.

Jerrit smiled and nodded, glancing down the street for any inns or taverns that didn't look run down. Not that he was opposed to the less that reputable places, it was simply that he figured his companion would want something different. "I wonder if they have any places here where the drinks are not watered down."

As he looked around he saw a few taverns that looked like upstanding places.

Nathaniel looked around and saw a fairly decent appearing establishment. there was a small sign hanging from a hook with a boar's head emblazoned upon it. "I believe that establishment seems reputable." He told Jerrit with a polite nod.

Jerrit looked at the establishment and nodded. "Yes. This will do nicely." He gestured for Nathaniel to follow and headed straight for the tavern, a small smile on his face. Maybe there would be a bard within who knew a few of his tales.

As they entered the tavern it looked much larger inside then it did outside. It was quite full of patrons who were enjoying ale, meat, and decent music.

"Huh. It's like a tardis." Nathaniel noted as he stepped inside, looking around at the vastness of the tavern. He couldn't help but wonder if it were just a trick of the eye or if there was actually magic behind it being larger on the inside than out. A spell like that was rather complicated and made things complicated on people around as well, so he was leaning more to it being an optical illusion.

Jerrit on the other hand was thrilled to see such a nice place. With a bard no less. He wound his way through the tables and to the bar. He wanted on of his ballads sung, Jerrit enjoyed hearing them, but he focused on the barkeeper. "What's your poison?" he asked Nathaniel.

Standing tall and with all seriousness, Nathaniel declared, "Prune juice." He wasn't exactly one for drinking alcohol, knowing full well how barbaric is tended to make people, the last thing he wanted was to resemble his Orc 'cousins' any more than he had to.

Jerrit smiled to himself and nodded at the barkeeper. "Make that two." Of all people, Jerrit knew better than to get drunk. He would wind up doing something incredibly stupid if he did.

Nathaniel turned and studied Jerrit with curiosity. He had never run across another warrior who would prefer prune juice over alcohol. He was an outcast even among his own people for that little tidbit.

Jerrit caught the look Nathaniel shot him and shrugged. "I am not a huge fan of getting wasted." He smiled at the orc looking man. "I know the dangers of the drink better than most." The last time he got drunk he started impersonating people with dangerous accuracy.

The bartender gave them an odd look before heading off, he returned a short while later with two glasses of prune juice and set it before them before grunting, "Five copper."

Jerrit slid a small silver piece over to the barkeeper with a smile as he reached for one of the glasses.

Nathaniel saw the silver and reached for the other glass. He didn't believe he was in the wrong to assume Jerrit was buying him a drink. It was he who suggested it in the first place. He nodded to the bartender as he took the glass.

The barkeep picked up the silver piece and then moved on to a half elf in nice looking armor.

Jerrit lifted his drink in a toast towards Nathaniel. "To adventure, danger, and a drink with a former stranger." It was something he had made up long ago, but people tended to appreciate the little verse.

"Interesting little toast." Nathaniel replied, raising his glass to it. "Very simple and to the point. Most intriguing, Jerrit."

"Thank you," Jerrit said, smiling as he took a drink of his juice. His eyes traveled the tavern for a moment. He was getting antsy staying in this form for so long. Inside, Neradine was screaming that it was her turn. Jerrit looked at Nathaniel, wondering how he would take this. If he could get up, leave, and come back as someone different. "So, what do you do for a living?" Jerrit asked casually.

"For a living?" Nathaniel asked and then shrugged. "I tend the fields when it is required, bring water when it is needed. I can put stuff on the top shelf for those not as graciously privileged in height. I find that my skills can occasionally be worth some profit. However, I fancy myself to be somewhat of a writer, but people tend to not be very interested in tales written by one who appears as I do. They seem to believe only in judging a book by it's cover I suppose would be an apt way to put it."

"A writer?" Jerrit said with interest. He smiled wide and leaned back against the bar. Neradine had been in a book once. Jerrit was quite fond of writers. "Maybe you would be interested in my story. You could write it down if you want." He stuck one hand in his pocket, running his fingers against the cool metal of Neradine's necklace.

"I am unsure of that. I tend to enjoy writing things I have observed, not other people's tellings. I chronicle all my adventures in my log book." Nathaniel explained, looking Jerrit over curiously. "I am interested in your story, do not worry yourself about that. It is certainly peculiar for someone such as you to take such honest interest in one who looks as I do."

Jerrit looked at him drink, a thoughtful and guilty expression on his face. "I am more accepting of physical appearances than most for a very good reason." He looked at his hands and his frown deepened. "Not that I usually share the reason with people."

"I get the feeling that you share it with people you can trust." Nathaniel replied with an arched brow as he sipped at his prune juice. He smirked and shook his head lightly, "Not that I blame you for not divulging such reasons with someone who you only just met. I believe in time, if you stick around, you'll probably come to trust me. I am a rather trustworthy individual."

Jerrit gave Nathaniel a very serious look. "I don't trust people in general." It wasn't just Jerrit's philosophy either. Rhen trusted no one with her secret.

Nathaniel shrugged and took another drink from the glass. "Not many adventurers do anymore, and to be perfectly honest, I do not blame them. Trust is a thing that must be earned and never be given freely. If you trust someone freely, you only open yourself up to betrayal."

Jerrit took a drink to hide his sudden discomfort. The last person he had trusted hadn't betrayed him. She had taken his persona, though. And had done great deeds with it. He set his empty glass down on the bar. "If I open myself up to trust, betrayal is the least of my worries," he said with a sardonic smile.

"That is certainly an interesting way of phrasing it." Nathaniel replied, setting his glass down, he had about half the glass left. He peered at Jerrit curiously. "If you wish to tell your tale, I do believe now would be a most entertaining time. Would you not agree?"

"You are quite right," Jerrit said. Neradine was the story teller, but he could take a crack at it. "But the real question is which story do you want? There is the time I faced a dragon in its den." That had been the real Jerrit. "Or the time I rescued a maiden from a lich." Rhen had finished that quest. "What about the time I single handedly out powered a Shifter with nothing more than my wit in order to free my companion?" Again, that was actually a Rhen story.

"I will listen to whichever story you chose to tell, Jerrit." Nathaniel replied with a shrug. He wasn't very picky, a story was a story as far as he was concerned

Give me a spot check, both of ya.

Jerrit
D20 = 12 + 3 = 15

Nathaniel
D20 = 19 + 2 = 21

You both notice a half-elf cleric of Pelor was looking down at them from a few seats away, for quite a bit before looking around the rest of the room.

Jerrit had been glancing about as he tried to figure which story he wanted to tell. His eyes focused on the cleric for a moment before he realized the other half elf was staring right at them. Jerrit held up a hand in greeting and looked back at Nathaniel. "My particular favorite would be the princesses and the lich, a bard actually turned that story into a song."

Nathaniel tried to smile politely, raising a hand to the half-elf cleric. Then he turned his attention back to Jerrit. "I do enjoy bard songs just like the rest of the populace. I do not believe however that I have ever heard one about a half-elf who rescued a princess from a lich."

Standing, Jerrit went over to the bard and pulled out a parchment. One of the many copies of his song he had. He smiled at the bard. "Can you play this?" he requested, handing the bard a silver as well before going back to sit down in his seat. "I am terrible at singing, so we'll leave this to the professionals."

"The bard gave you a copy of the song?" Nathaniel asked him with a shocked expression. He had never heard of a bard giving someone a copy of a song before, they might sing them anywhere but they treasured their songs as well, to give one up didn't sound right

"Not exactly." Jerrit laughed suddenly, his eyes wrinkling with mirth. "My friend Neradine convinced him that since it was my story, I should have a copy." In truth, Neradine had broken into the bard's room and stolen a copy, but Neradine was never honest with where she procured her items, so Jerrit had just shrugged it off.

"Well, however you managed to procure a copy of it, I must say I am intrigued to hear the song." Nathaniel replied with a polite nod, wishing the bard would start playing, surely it wasn't that complex of a song, was it?

The bard had just finished looking over the song Jerrit had handed him and began to play. "Ladies and gentleman, let me regal you with the exploits of a man named Jerrit and the princess he saved through guile alone."

Sit down and let me tell you,
Of an adventurer brave,
Who has faced the very pits of hell
And crawled back from the grave.

Jerrit Sahlia is a rogue,
Who can steal the mustache from your face,
He can loot a dozen dragons' dens,
Without losing pace.

But this is a story,
Of Jerrit's greatest deed.
Of when he rescued a princess,
From one of villainous breed.

The elven princess,
Daughter of the queen,
Was captured by a lich,
That evil undead fiend.

So the call rang out,
For any hero to come.
Many came to answer it,
And of course our Jerrit was one.

So as each one failed,
Our queen was losing heart,
Her daughter was lost forever,
For Jerrit had yet to play his part.

He couldn't beat a lich,
This he already knew,
He gathered his equipment,
And did what he needed to.

Scaling the black castle walls
Was an easy enough for him.
His black clothes kept him hidden.
The very halls were dim.

So he snuck into the keep.
Picked the locks to the doors,
They weren't well guarded,
They had never met Jerrit before.

He walked into that castle,
And strode back out,
With a princess over his shoulder,
For the queen with the pout.

Not a blade was risen,
And no one was killed.
But Jerrit defeated a lich,
With nothing but skill.

When he stopped playing, those who were not deep in conversation or slobbering drunk, applauded.

Jerrit applauded louder than most, giving Nathaniel a glance to see how he took it. "I know, scarce on the actual details, but that covered most of it."

"With nothing but skill?" Nathaniel asked him, swirling his prune juice in his hand carefully. He looked down at the glass and thought for a moment. "So you picked the locked, moved silently through the castle, most assuredly hiding in the shadows as you did so. Then you simply stole the princess and escaped just as silently as you had entered, thus defeating the lich with nothing but skill. Am I correct?"

"That would be the short version," Jerrit said with a smile. The story didn't say about how he had also stolen everything he could find, and the half elf wasn't about to share that tidbit.

Nathaniel nodded in understanding, "Very interesting tale. Perhaps if I knew the longer version, I may put some thought behind writing it down in my journal."

NOTHER SPOT CHECK!

Nathaniel - D20 = 8 + 4 = 12

Jerrit - D20 = 16 + 3 = 19

Jerrit, you notice the half-elf cleric, during the applause, has scooted a bit closer to you two. Nathaniel is oblivious to this change.

Jerrit was about to start regaling Nathaniel in his story when he noticed the cleric again. "Greetings," he said to the half elf. "I was just about to expand on the true events of that bard's tale if you would like to listen." He waved the cleric over, a steady smile on his face as he looked back at Nathaniel. "Where to begin, it is quite a long tale."

"I think we should begin with introductions. It is impolite otherwise." Nathaniel said, holding up his hand to stop Jerrit from going any further. He looked at the cleric expectantly.

Lok smiled, half to himself - Yes, I like this one already, he thought - and half to his new audience of two. "We agree on that account, friend. I am Lok." He extended a hand toward Nathaniel since he spoke first, and patiently waited for replies.

Jerrit nodded and smiled, leaning against the bar with his arms crossed. "I can agree with that," he said. When Lok introduced himself and held out his hand to Nathaniel, Jerrit was only slightly disappointed since he was the one who had waved the cleric over. He waited for Nathaniel to introduce himself, smiling indulgently.

Nathaniel leaned forward and clasped the cleric's hand firmly, but gently at the same time. The man was certain to notice how uncharacteristically soft the apparent half-orc's hand in fact was. He smiled friendly and nodded his head solemnly. "Greetings Lok, long days and pleasant nights. I am Nathaniel Alastair Kenneth Helefern, if you are truly a friend, you may call me Nathaniel."

"Well met, Nathaniel," replied Lok, and did indeed notice the suppleness of his skin. His thoughts started to drift, thinking about a number of ways how Nathaniel may have gotten such soft skin - he lost track of time momentarily, and then he was pulled back to reality, suddenly startled that he might have been standing there shaking the half-orc's hand for an uncomfortably (and awkward) long time. That's when he turned his attention to the other half-elf, and in Elven said, "Fair be our meeting, for our hearts are light and our swords sheathed, we hold peace in our hands and its light guides us." He then offered his hand in turn to Jerrit.

"May your steps be as light and untraceable as the wind, and your mark on the forest be light." Jerrit didn't know any proper elven greetings, but he did know the proper scout greeting of the forest. "I'm Jerrit Sahlia," he said in common, taking his wrist in his hand.

Lok smiled as he cocked his head curiously, "Well met, Jerrit. I...am not familiar with that greeting; is it perhaps a common one for forest rangers or some such?"

"Scout greeting, to be more specific, from my home," Jerrit said with a smile. "I wasn't raised in proper elven traditions, but my friend Neradine trained me as much as she could."

"You know, fellows, it is quite rude to speak another language in the presence of another. Especially if the two of you are under the assumption that he cannot comprehend your vernacular." Nathaniel spoke to both of them in elven, crossing his arms to give the illusion of agitation.

The cleric was about to reply to Jerrit when he looked at Nathaniel in surprise. "Oh, my apologies, Nathaniel. My greeting to Jerrit was not meant as a slight to you. Where I come from, it is merely the accepted protocol with others of Elven heritage. Is... Is that not the case in this city?" Lok had an expression on his face like a child about to get in trouble for doing something the child did not even know was wrong. "I admit, I have only just arrived today, please excuse my ignorances." He smiled warmly to both men.

"I am quickly learning not to assume anything about you, Nathaniel," Jerrit said with a lopsided grin. "However, Lok would be correct that it is commonly accepted protocol to make such greetings in the language." His smile grew as he waited for Lok to realize the name he had been given was the same as was mentioned in the song.

Lok opened his mouth to say something, but he froze for a second and began repeating in a whisper, Jerrit...Jerrit...Jerr- Oh! Jerrit." He looked at Jerrit, "The same one the bard had introduced his song about?" Dark and empty! I really should have been paying more attention to the song!

"I know full well the common protocol of the elven greetings, Jerrit." Nathaniel assured him with a smug smile. "I have been living among them for the last ten years. One tends to pick up a few things in that amount of time."

"Yes, that Jerrit," he said with a smile. When Nathaniel mentioned living among elves, Jerrit turned to him. "You didn't happen to come across a young elven scout by the name of Neradine, did you? If so, I would say this is a very small world."

"I have come across many scouts in my time there, but I do not recall any of them actually introducing themselves." Nathaniel explained with a casual shrug. "Names are powerful things and I certainly do not blame them for not introducing themselves, however rude it may be not to do so."

"I can vouch for the truth of that," explained Lok. "Being a cleric of divine faith, names - or True Names as some are wont to call them - are powerful things indeed. They are commonly used as the keystone in the practice of many spells and rituals."

"Neradine won't even tell me her real name, and I have known her for more years than I care to remember," Jerrit admitted. He shrugged. "I simply was curious. After all, it is not often I meet someone who has breached the elven lands without elven blood."

"Believe me, it was not easy. Nor was it cheap, but everyone, including elves has their price." Nathaniel explained with a smirk and a nod. "My mentor, Aranion demanded every pieces of currency I held, as well as the purchase of his next drink. And in that order. It was most peculiar and difficult to achieve..." After hearing the name a few times, the name finally clicked in Nathaniel's mind. He realized that he had met an Elven scout named Neradine during his stay in the Woods of the Fey. "Come to think of it, Jerrit, I do recall meeting a Neradine once."

Lok's curiosity was piqued. "Pray tell, how does one pay for a drink after one has relinquished all of one's coin? This is a story I must hear," he said with a toothy grin.

"That is a good question," Jerrit added. He already knew how he would have done it, having paid for drinks with no coin before, but he humored Lok anyway. "But I am more interested in what led you to meet Neradine. I am pretty certain she came to the city as well, so maybe we will run into her."

"The greatest of tales are best told by one with the talent for telling." Nathaniel replied to Lok. It was a simple and rather redundant way of saying the best stories are told by bards. He smiled and set down his glass of prune juice. "I met her in passing through the Woods of the Fey. It was a very brief encounter, though I imagine she may remember one such as myself."

Lok's attention wandered toward Nathaniel's glass of prune juice. "I apologize if this is quite, erm, uncultured of me, Nathaniel...but that is the most viscous glass of wine I think I have ever seen. It looks terribly bitter." He made a face, imagining the taste of very sour wine in his mouth.

Nathaniel let out a hearty laugh and shook his head. "Aye! It certainly would be a terribly bitter wine. If it were wine, that is, Lok." He smirked and pushed the glass towards the man in invitation. "Nah, it is but prune juice. The greatest and heartiest of beverages."

"I hope that I never meet a wine like that," Jerrit said with a laugh. He glanced around, looking for a nice place to shift. He could feel Neradine trying to escape and knew it was time to change.

Lok accepted the unspoken invitation and smiled at Jerrit. He took the glass and lifted it to his nose, taking a tentative sniff. His countenance visibly improved when the sweet smell of prunes filled his nostrils. He made sure not to touch any of the liquid, though (he felt it would be bad form and impolite to taste someone else's drink), and after he sniffed he placed the glass back down in front of Nathaniel. "I see I was clearly mistaken, my good man. This here is a younger vintage elven wine," he lifted his own chalice to display it. It was still quite full, and he had clearly not taken even a sip. Lok leaned in closer and continued in a lowered voice, "and, while I'm not particularly keen on fermented spirits, asking the barkeep for a glass of milk seems to be unacceptable, so this prune juice seems an excellent idea and one I must keep in mind!" He leaned back, with his voice its normal volume, and raised his glass, "To maintaining appearances!" He grinned at both of them.

"Certainly an odd toast..." Nathaniel stated as he lifted his glass to it. "Nevertheless truthful as well." He nodded to Lok and then turned to look expectantly to Jerrit, "Well, friend Jerrit? To maintaining appearances?"

Jerrit, who had just spotted the hall to the privy, looked back at Nathaniel. "What? Sure, to maintaining appearances." His face would have told them how much he didn't care either way. "If you will excuse me, gentlemen, there is something I must see to. I will find you later." Without even waiting for a goodbye, Jerrit pushed his way to the back hall to find a place to shift and change into Neradine.

Lok tilted his head and arched an eyebrow curiously at Jerrit's abrupt exit. "Huh. Strange fellow," he said mostly to himself, "but I suppose we're bound to get all sort of folk in the big city, wouldn't you say?" this time directing it toward Nathaniel.

"Indeed he is...Cleric Lok." Nathaniel stated, turning to his newly appointed drinking buddy. "So to which god to you send your prayers, friend?"

Jerrit slid into one of the private rooms and quickly set about stripping from his clothes. A moment's thought put him into Neradine's visage. A moment after Jerrit vanished from the common room, an elven woman appeared. If anyone looked closely, they would see that she was carrying the same style bag as Jerrit had been.

SPOT CHECK LOK AND NATHANIEL

Nathaniel - D20 = 17 + 4 = 21 spot

Lok D20=18 + 1 = 19 spot

Lok smiled at Nathaniel. "To Pelor. In fact, I've recently accepted training to be in their order of Exorcists."

"Ah Pelor, the Shining One, god of the Sun, Light, Strength, and Healing. Good patron for a cleric I suppose." Nathaniel stated with a shrug. "Of the pantheon I do find Pelor to be the most generous I suppose."

Nathaniel notices that a somewhat familiar elven female just walked out of the bathrooms.

"Aye, correct on all accounts. Though, admittedly, I fell into the order more by happenstance than by studious research," said Lok. "I must say, Nathaniel, I'm impressed, you seem to know your way around the pantheon. Are you also a cleric?" he asked, completely oblivious to anything around him but the conversation.

Nathaniel looked at the woman curiously and then turned back to Lok. "A cleric? No. Most certainly not." He smirked and shook his head lightly. "I enjoy reading and books on the pantheon are one thing that is certainly in vast supply." He pointed towards the bathroom where the elven woman walked out. "I do not run into people I know very often, but I believe I recognize her."

"Oh?" Lok asked, as he turned to see who he was pointing at. He wanted to ask a followup question about Nathaniel's occupation, but he had already switched topics, and Lok forgot. "Well, I would not be terribly surprised. The call for adventurers seemed to have gone far and wide, with a sizable turnout. I suppose the chances of seeing someone you recognize would be pretty sizable, too." He didn't recognize the female Elf.

"Awfully coincidental that she would show herself right after we were discussing her." Nathaniel said quietly as he again found himself staring at her. He brought a hand to his mouth, to permit his voice to travel over the bar noise. "Neradine?!"

Neradine looked up towards where she had heard her name being called. It took her a moment to see through the crowd, but once she did, the smallest of smiled broke through her usually stoic face. Weaving expertly through the crowd, Neradine approached the pair. "Small wonders always amaze me. First Jerrit Sahlia outside and now Nathaniel Alastair Kenneth Helefern, if I am not mistaken. Yours is a fair reputation around my home still. And not one I am likely to forget." Neradine spoke in her native tongue, not familiar enough with common to feel comfortable speaking in it.

"As I live and breathe." Nathaniel gave her a great bow, his hand flourishing out to take a gentle hold of her own. "It has been far too long, fair Lady Neradine." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly before straightening up from the dramatic bow and looking down at the radiantly beautiful elven woman. "Oh! Dearest lady, might I introduce Lok the Cleric of Pelor." He gestured to his companion, hoping that his introduction did the man justice, with such a small name, he felt the need to embellish it with his title.

Lok said, also in the Elven tongue, "A star shines upon the hour of our meeting, Lady Neradine," Lok accompanied the greeting with a tap of a closed fist to his chest, and immediately followed it with a sweeping gesture of his arm. He then extended his hand to her, smiled, and offered a respectful tilt of his head.

">You look kindly upon me, Cleric Lok," Neradine replied. She took his hand, but pulled back quicker from the new face than she had from Nathaniel. Her eyes traveled quickly over Lok in a manner of inspection. She was clearly sizing him up, and seemed a little less than pleased at meeting new people. In fact, she seemed a bit jumpy in the crowd. "I am relieved to find friends within the city." She looked over at Nathaniel, choosing to stand closer to him than the cleric. "I have never been in a city so large before. I feel very lost."

"It would be my honor to accompany you, dear Lady Neradine." Nathaniel suggested with a smile and a nod. "Perhaps it would not seem so large, while accompanied with a familiar face."

Lok looked back and forth between the exchange and considered silently for a moment, and then explained in the common tongue. "Would you mind if I join you? I am alone in the city, and I doubt to find anyone I would know." he said, hoping they would agree to him tagging along.

Neradine nodded and smiled at Nathaniel's suggestion. "Indeed you may be correct, dear Nathaniel." Placing a hand lightly on his arm, Neradine relaxed only slightly. She turned her attention to Lok as he spoke, blinking a few times. Common was not a language she particularly liked.

Not yet grasping the concept that there could exist a person not fluent in Common, Lok looked sheepish, like he said something he shouldn't have...perhaps even offensive. He couldn't imagine what he might have said, so he just looked at Neradine and asked, "Was it something I said?"

Nathaniel placed his large hand over top hers and smiled softly. He looked at Lok and nodded, "I see no trouble with you joining us. I believe the dear lady has some difficulties with Common." He looked down at Neradine, and in Elven, "Lok the Cleric of Pelor wishes to accompany us, dear Lady. Would you permit this?"

"I foresee no issues with this," Neradine replied with a slight inclination of her head at Lok. "My apologies, Cleric Lok, I do not fully understand the language you speak in. My friend Nathaniel, is there another place we may go where the press of bodies is not so strong?" Neradine eyed the crowd with slight distaste. She much preferred the open air, and some might question why she was in the confines of the city in the first place.

Lok listened to Nathaniel's explanation and his lips rounded to mouth the word, "Oh." His cheeks blushed and he felt slightly foolish (as seems to be happening more and more lately). He made sure to continue in her native tongue, "Thank you, and please accept my own humble apologies. I did not know of your trouble with Common. But allow me to also say, if learning the language is something you wish to accomplish, I offer myself as tutor, should you so desire." His earlier sheepish smile faded, replaced by a sincere bow.

"There is always outside, though I fear the entire city is rather packed at this time...perhaps we should get a private room?" Nathaniel asked her curiously. A private room would be just that, private.

"I foresee no issues with this," Neradine replied with a slight inclination of her head at Lok. "My apologies, Cleric Lok, I do not fully understand the language you speak in. My friend Nathaniel, is there another place we may go where the press of bodies is not so strong?" Neradine eyed the crowd with slight distaste. She much preferred the open air, and some might question why she was in the confines of the city in the first place.

Lok listened to Nathaniel's explanation and his lips rounded to mouth the word, "Oh." His cheeks blushed and he felt slightly foolish (as seems to be happening more and more lately). He made sure to continue in her native tongue, "Thank you, and please accept my own humble apologies. I did not know of your trouble with Common. But allow me to also say, if learning the language is something you wish to accomplish, I offer myself as tutor, should you so desire." His earlier sheepish smile faded, replaced by a sincere bow.

"There is always outside, though I fear the entire city is rather packed at this time...perhaps we should get a private room?" Nathaniel asked her curiously. A private room would be just that, private.

"The Common language is rather vulgar and unappealing," Neradine said with a frown. She looked up at Nathaniel and gave him a slight nod. "That would be much more preferable to this room." Her eyes traveled around the crowd again, seeing all manner of people she had no wish to meet.

Lok took Neradine's comment to be a definite no. "It seems you both are better versed than I in navigating this city. Please, lead the way."

"Lead the way?" Nathaniel asked curiously as he turned back to face the bar. He tapped the top of the counter and hoped that was enough to get the barkeep's attention. "Surely, we can obtain a room at this establishment."

The bartender heard the knock and looked over at them, looking quite upset at being summoned that way.

Nathaniel could tell by the man's glance that he was irritated. He smiled sweetly and showed his hand, in it a piece of silver. "Sorry for the summons, good sir. Perchance is there a way that we could obtain a room for the evening?"

"Shoulda been here a week ago if you wanted a room." The man said before turning back and handing a man his drinks.

"What did he say?" Neradine asked, looking up at Nathaniel. She didn't remove her hand, not wanting to be lost in the crowd, but her free hand went to her bag, fingering the outline of her lockpicks. They might not know where her true gifts lay, but that meant little to her.

Lok interjected, trying to get a word in before the bartender was too far away, "Might you kindly direct us to another such establishment in the area, my good man?" He smiled, realizing too late that the barkeep had his back turned and wouldn't see his face.

"All the primary establishments are full." the keep said as he filled a flagon and handed it to a barmaid who already had three other flagons. "You could try some of the flophouses or Dinge-bars in the poor district. Or you could set up camp in the tent city they got going out in the section center" the man added as he wiped some excess ale off his hands and onto his apron before turning to see who was talking. "But you'd probably be able to get a bunk at your church." he said to Lok.

Nathaniel looked down at Neradine and shook his head, "He said they were all full. No rooms here, but he recommends we seek the Church of Pelor, dear Lady." He nodded and clasped Lok upon the shoulder. "He makes a good point, friend Lok. Perhaps we should seek the sanctuary of the Church?"

Neradine let out a sigh and nodded. "Can we go soon?" She eyed the bar with distaste and stepped closer to Nathaniel.

"Yes, fair Lady. Indeed we shall. This establishment no longer serves a purpose. Nathaniel told her with a small nod, his hand softly patting the back of hers.

Lok nodded curtly. "If that is our only choice, then so be it. Come friends, this way. Follow me." He made his way out of the bar and back to the church.

Neradine walked with Nathaniel, keeping pace just behind Lok. She weaved in between the people, trying desperately to avoid being trampled or lost in the crowd. She shot Nathaniel a look and reached to grasp his forearm so she wouldn't lose him.

As they all stepped out of the tavern and into the streets, they noticed a considerable increase in the number of people milling about. It looks like there is almost no room left for anyone else.

Nathaniel placed his large hand over top Neradine's petite one as she clasped his arm while they walked. "You need not be afraid, dear Lady Neradine. I shall protect you with all my strength."

The sheer amount of people made Neradine blanch. Her hand tightened on Nathaniel's arm as she stepped closer. "There are so many..."

"Where is this church of yours friend Lok? The Lady tires." Nathaniel told him as he pulled Neradine to him. He looked down at her gently and found himself smiling again.

Lok looked back over his shoulder and smiled. "It is not far from here. In fact, just past this next bend and we should see it." He continued walking, but adjusted his pace so as not to lose Neradine and Nathaniel in the bustling crowd.

Sure enough, as Lok had said, the Church of Pelor came into sight. It was easily picked out due to the large sun emblazoned stain glass window that dominated nearly the entire front of the stone building.

Neradine watched the crowd as she practically stayed pressed against Nathaniel's side. The sheer number of people was unnerving, and she vaguely wondered how Jerrit could stand it. "The sooner this event begins, the better for everyone." This was mumbled just loud enough for Nathaniel to hear.

"Indeed. Once the tournament begins, those who lose should eventually start to fall out of the city, whether by choice or force I'd imagine." Nathaniel told her with a shrug. He knew that he was beginning to feel the same way himself. It was starting to feel slightly claustrophobic to him.

Lok ushered the three of them into the church and looked around for someone to ask about a room for the night. "Oh, that reminds me. Did you two also plan on participating in the tournament?" he asked cheerfully.

"The tournament is the only reason I came to this city," Neradine told Lok, grateful to be off the street. Her eyes traveled over the church, taking in as many details as she could.

Nathaniel nodded in response to Lok, "I as well, friend Lok. The tournament is a marvelous chance to proves one's worth."

As Lok looked around, he saw the kindly old priest walking in their direction, "I see you have returned, and with friends." he said to Lok.

Lok smiled again. "Yes, Priest, I have," he said in the Common tongue. "We came seeking shelter for the upcoming tournament. But first, allow me to introduce to you my friends Nathaniel and Neradine. It is worth noting that Neradine has a particular dislike of the common language and prefers only to speak in the elven tongue." He then turned to his compatriots and in Elven, "This is the priest of Pelor. His name is, well, Priest." He finished with a sheepish shrug and tilt of his head.

The priest smiled before speaking in Elven, "You are more then welcome to stay in our pilgrim's quarters. There is many more people in there already, so privacy may not be available.

"Introductions require the use of a full name, friend Lok." Nathaniel explained, bowing low to the priest. "I am Nethaniel Alastair Kenneth Helefern. Friends may call me Nathaniel."

Lok looked on as Nathaniel gave his full introduction. His facial expression betrayed his silence, as he unknowingly made a strange face by raising his brows and frowning, outwardly expressing his inner thoughts of, Wow, that's a pretty fancy and important-sounding name!

Neradine only half paid attention as they floated in and out of elven. She didn't let go of Nathaniel's arm, but her gaze fell on the symbol of Pelor as she waited for them to start moving again.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all. It is a pleasure to meet you all." The priest said, repeating himself in Elven for Neradine's sake.

"We could converse in Elven. Rather than repeat everything you say, priest?" Nathaniel suggested, it would make things rather simpler for all of them at least.

Lok nodded at Nathaniel's suggestion, then looked at the priest, "Aye, your pilgrim's quarters should suit us nicely." He was quite thankful the church wasn't also filled up.

"What ever pleases you." the priest said, "When ever you are ready, I can take you to the quarters."

"What is your name priest?" Nathaniel asked him curiously, tilting his head to the side. "I have told you mine. I simply cannot call you priest."

"I am Father Varnoor, but everyone calls me Priest." he said with a smile.

This exchange caused Lok to twist his face in confusion. He thought the priest didn't have a name, or rather he thought the priest took the name Priest, forsaking his "real" name for some reason to do with some strange Pelorian custom Lok was not aware of. But apparently not. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation and couldn't figure out why Father Varnoor would choose to, in Lok's mind, lie to Lok about his name. A few more moments passed as the cleric was lost in his own thoughts, and he forgot that he may have been required to answer that they were ready to go...which he didn't.

"Father Varnoor, Priest of Pelor, I am pleased to make your acquaintance." Nathaniel told him, bowing low in respect of the man's position

Watching until she felt like responding, Neradine finally spoke up. "Is there a place to clean the dust of long days on the road from my person? It has been a few days since I had last seen a river." Not that it was noticeable at all. Neradine was almost as perfectly groomed as most nobles would have been.

"Ah, excellent idea, Lady Neradine." said Lok, "I would not terribly mind a bath, either, before settling down for a bit. Though, perhaps it may be wiser to find our quarters and put our things down before washing, to be prudent?" Only then did he realize that he had forgotten the weight of his supplies he had been carrying from his hometown.

"Normally we do not offer use of the bathhouse to non-members, but since you are friends of brother Lok, we will make an exception." Father Varnoor said, "Just let me know when you are ready to go."

"I must agree with Lok. It would be easier to bathe without all of our supplies." Nathaniel agreed with a nod towards the cleric

Neradine clung more tightly to her bag with her free hand. She clearly wasn't giving it up. "Knowing where we will be resting would be useful," she said instead.

"Yes, of course." the Priest said, "Follow me." With that he lead them down an adjoining corridor that lead to a very large room full of bunks, most of which were holding people.

Lok began following the priest, curiously glancing this way and that at the people in the other bunks.

Nathaniel followed after Father Varnoor and Lok, keeping as close to Neradine as he could in the corridor. "Dear Lady, have your journeys been fair these past years?" He asked her curiously as he chose a bunk for himself, making certain that there was one close by for the lady, should she choose it as well.

Lok wanted to take a bunk close to his new friends, but if he couldn't find one, he'd settle for the closest one he could get. It seemed rather crowded in here.

Neradine sat down on the empty bunk near Nathaniel's and looked up at him as he spoke. A small frown settled on her features as she pondered his question. "I believe the more appropriate word would be numerous. Or perhaps taxing. They have rarely been pleasant or fair." She rummaged through her bag until she came out with a hair tie and started tightly braiding her hair. "Up until today, and the sight if you, Nathaniel, life has afforded me very little joy."

Nathaniel looked at her curiously, wondering just how hard her life's journey had to be that seeing him could possibly be considered a joy. "Lady...you do me such honor, but how could your journey be so harsh?"

Father Varnoor silently stood near the doorway as they picked out their bunks and set their gear down. He waited patiently for them to be ready to be shown to the baths.

After finding a suitable bunk, Lok put his stuff down without really taking any time to organize anything. He pretty much just plopped them on the bunk and turned and smiled at the priest. He was ready.

Neradine finished putting her hair up and stood, reluctantly leaving her bag on the bed. "I have had companions fall during my travels, and many plans go awry. Many of my outings are no longer by my own decision." She glanced over at the priest and frowned again.

Nathaniel found the fact that she frowned at the priest to be most interesting indeed. "Perhaps later we can catch up properly, dear lady?" He asked her as he laid his bag down on the bed. He figured it would be safe enough here. They were in a church after all, not only that but everyone had seen who, or rather what kind of person, had set the bag down. Only a fool would disturb it, in his mind.

Seeing that they all appeared ready, the Priest said, "Follow me and I will show you to the baths." He turned and moved off down and adjoining hall with the adventurers in tow. When they arrived in the room, they saw it was quite large and each bath was surrounded by a privacy wall to keep out any prying eyes or at least quell the suspicion of prying eyes. "You may pick your tubs and I will have attendants with heated water in shortly to fill them for you."

Neradine chose the furthest tub in the corner. She walked over and leaned close to inspect the cleanliness of the item in question before she came up again and looked around at everyone else, waiting for someone else to move first.

Nathaniel chose a tub close to Neradine, but far enough from her to give her her privacy. He was not about to allow anyone to try anything towards her. He would protect her with his life. He examined the tub of his choice and then started to disrobe.

Lok looked like a child in a candy store. He shamelessly began disrobing as he was heading toward one of the tubs, somehow immediately forgetting other people were around. He sat in one and began shifting around, as if he were testing out the cushions on a plush seat, trying to find a comfortable position. He was grinning stupidly the whole time.

Neradine got this concerned/confused/disgusted look, on her face, eyes wide, nose wrinkled, and eyebrows pinched, as everyone started disrobing around her. She contemplated the privacy curtain for a moment, her hands gripped in front of her as she resolutely focused her eyes away from the men. Finally she untied her cloak and let it fall into her arms to be folded and set aside.

Nathaniel kept his back to her as he disrobed, it was not proper for a woman to see a man in such a manner before courtship. He dropped his trousers and folded them neatly before climbing into the tub. His clothing was part of his pride and he would not leave it in a heap as a human would.

The priest left as they began to disrobe and choose their tubs. Shortly after, several acolytes came in carrying large pails of water. They went over to the tubs they had chosen and poured the water in. With their pails empty and the tubs full, they simply left. The trio would find that the water was not too hot, but at the same time wasn't cool.

Lok made sure not to waste much time washing up, he grabbed a nearby bar of soap. He was almost methodical in his approach. Face, arms, chest, legs. He seemed to be humming a shanty quietly to himself, more to keep rhythm than anything else. By the time he got done with his song, he was done scrubbing. He quickly rinsed off, stood and starting drying off with one hand while gathering his clothes with his other. There seemed to be a method to his movements, as if he'd practiced this a thousand times before.

If anyone looked at Neradine, a very strange sight would reach them. She did not disrobe entirely. Her over shirt was pulled off and folded, her travel pants discarded likewise, leaving her in an undershirt and knee length breeches. She sat on the rim of the tub, her feet on the floor, and began by washing her face. Arms were next, and she dried herself as she went, until finally she immersed her feet in the bath.

Nathaniel was pleased that they provided soap. He had plenty for himself, but it was back in his bag in the other room. Not to mention that was for express use during his adventures. He let out a sweet sigh of relief as the warm water eased the aches and pains of the well traveled from his body. He gripped some soap and started to lather himself up. It would take much scrubbing to get the stink of his species from his skin, but he would not move amongst the others until it was gone.

Being the first of his company to finish his bath, Lok felt appropriately refreshed and ready to tackle anything that came his way. He began idly wondering to himself some thoughts, and before he even realized it, he was vocalizing them in a low voice. "I wonder if we're supposed to wait for the priest to come back and escort us out, or what the protocol is for this sort of thing in the city. Even though the rooms here are larger, they are cordoned off from prying eyes...unlike back home." He shook his head, "Then again, back home everyone knows everyone else, so the need for privacy is different than being around total strangers. Say, speaking of strangers, when does this tournament begin, anyhow?" Through his whole blabbering, he never once noticed he was talking to himself.

Neradine sat up and looked over at Lok as he spoke, almost immediately averting her gaze again. She dried her feet and pulled her over clothes back on, almost seeming reluctant to do so. At the mention of the tournament, she became hesitant and still.

Nathaniel worked ardently at bathing himself. He constantly carried soap with him for a very good reason, after all. His people were of a cursed race, they appeared to all senses as the orcs do, including the sense of smell. Unfortunately, there was not enough soap in the world to extinguish the odor permanently.

Lok tried to bide his time waiting for his new friends by idly feigning interest in what material the soap dish is made of, the curves of the tub, the iridescence of the few remaining bubbles by the drain. He cleared his throat and asked without looking over, "Ahem. Not to be rude, friends, but how's it going over there?"

Still Neradine remained silent. She shot Lok a glance as he spoke, her brows furrowed slightly. Finally she stood and made her way towards the door, waiting for Nathaniel to finish but not looking upon him at all.

Nathaniel sighed as he rinsed the soap off. He hated being rushed, but he understood the need for it. He could probably bathe later if he needed to. With the soap rinsed off, he got to his feet, shielding himself from prying eyes, and began to towel dry before climbing out and finishing. He meticulously folded the towel and sat on it as he got himself dressed. He continuously looked up, his eyes finding Neradine again and again.

Now that he was fully clothed again, it just dawned on Lok that he was speaking common again, which he thought probably painted himself in an ever-worsening light in Neradine's eyes. Switching languages, he said, "Neradine, are you ready to go? And Nathaniel seems to be ready soon as well." He nodded, satisfied, then gathered the rest of his belongings and made his way to the doorway, all the while careful not to let his gaze wander where it shouldn't.

Neradine shifted uncomfortably as Lok came closer. She was seeming to become more reluctant to stay in this room as her eyes remained locked on the floor. Her eyes were slightly glazed as she zoned out standing there, trying to keep herself from growing twitchy.

Nathaniel straightened his shirt and approached Neradine cautiously. He kept his eyes averted and bowed to her. "Dear Lady, is your bath concluded?" he asked her carefully, as always he chose his words with caution. One could never be sure as to what could offend whom.

Neradine gave Nathaniel a nod, finally snapping out of her moment of zoning. She seemed unusually exhausted, especially for an elf. "Good sir Nathaniel, I wish to have a word with you. In private." The more time she spent with him, the more she realized that she needed to trust him with some things.

Nathaniel looked at her curiously, but offered her his arm anyway. "Of course, dear Lady." He replied simply and courteously. "Is everything alright?"

She took a deep breath and glanced over at Lok before taking Nathaniel's arm and starting away from the baths. Neradine looked positively petrified. "It is not something spoken of in civilized circles, so I apologize in advance if this news is quite shocking. I will not be participating in the tournament. At least not as myself.."

Lok saw the bell sitting nearby and figured it would be too soon to ring it to call the priest back, especially now that he noticed Nathaniel and Neradine starting away from the baths. They probably just want to be alone or something. Lok busied himself by tidying up after himself. He tidily folded his towel and placed it neatly on the floor next to the tub. He made sure his clothes were in order and fitting properly. He adjusted his belt buckle to sit square center of his torso. He also wished he had the rest of his bags with him; now would have been the perfect time to sort through them and rearrange things around.

Nathaniel looked at her curiously as she worded it like that. He scratched his chin in thought and held his hand up to stop her. "Not as yourself...You're going to participate as Jerrit Sahlia, aren't you?" He said it quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear. She had shown up just as Jerrit had left earlier, and he hadn't seen his friend since then either. For someone who stated being a friend, it was odd behavior to abandon one's friends like that.

"Yes. He and I are one and the same." Neradine looked both relieved and terrified. She took her hand from Nathaniel's arm, her eyes averted as she wrapped both arms around herself. "There are very few people who know my true nature and abilities. And of those, only one has lowered themselves to remain my acquaintance." She finally looked at him, nervousness causing her to bite her lip.

"I know not how it is possible for you and Jerrit Sahlia to be the same person, Lady Neradine. But you are still my treasured friend, as either persona." Nathaniel told her with a gentle smile. He reached forward and gently took her hand in his. "It sounds as though it would be an interesting story to hear. And I will gladly listen, whenever you feel it a good time to share, my Lady."

"You may find this hard to understand, however this is not my story to tell." Neradine turned from him to make certain no one else was around before she shifted. When she turned back, Rhen looked upon Nathaniel for the first time. Her features weren't much different from Neradine's. "It is mine," she whispered to him, hiding herself as close to the wall and Nathaniel as possible.

Nathaniel looked down at the girl curiously. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would not have believed it possible. "And who are you?" He asked her quietly. It was customary to introduce yourself to someone who you've never met before, but he didn't think that was necessary, seeing as Neradine knew him and he had introduced himself to Jerrit Sahlia as well.

Putting a hand over her heart, Rhen bowed. "I was named Rhen. I am Neradine, Jerrit Sahlia, and Markus Smith. I am a changeling, outcast, and ever searching for a real place to belong. I am a becomer, each of my personas their own person, knowing nothing about each other, but I know all of them. I am the woman who has never had a home but is at home everywhere." Her bright eyes met Nathaniel's with an honest look. "And I am hoping you will not judge me too harshly for my apparent duplicity."

"How could I judge you harshly? You have been a longtime friend as the Lady Neradine. As well as my new friend Jerrit Sahlia." Nathaniel stated with a smile. He pressed his hand to his heart and bowed as well. "It is a pleasure to meet you Rhen. I am Nathaniel Alastair Kenneth Helefern."

"Many believe my kind bring misfortune and woe. I am relieved that you would not subscribe to such superstition." Rhen smiled warmly at him. "Nathaniel, I must say honestly I will never tire of your introduction or the pride you take in such a wonderful name. Neradine is correct in placing her trust in you. This is something that I prefer not to share, although, given the secret musings of Neradine, she has the urge to travel with you, as do I, and that means certain secrets must be shared immediately."

"Apparently so." Nathaniel said simply with a smile. "If this is truly your story to tell, I would greatly enjoy hearing more of it."

"The majority of the story must unfortunately wait, as our companion is undoubtedly awaiting your and Neradine's return, however I can inform you that I have been trained by a thieves' guild, and am quite talented at my chosen profession." Rhen glanced nervously over Nathaniel's shoulder before settling again. "I do not steal, but I am very gifted at the art if disguise for obvious reasons."

"Indeed." Nathaniel stated simply, a small smirk on his face. "Then perhaps you should change back to Lady Neradine and we can depart."

Rhen nodded and turned. She was changed even before she finished turning away. When Neradine looked back at Nathaniel, she seemed suddenly much shier than before. She moved to raise her hand to his arm but let it fall back to her side instead.

Nathaniel looked down at her and smiled. "Welcome back, dear Lady." He told her softly with a bow of his head. "We have much catching up to do. If you have some time later this evening?" He asked as he offered his arm to her. He saw the way she attempted to take his arm and then decided against it.

Neradine slid her hand slowly around Nathaniel's arm, her eyes a bit downcast. "Indeed. I believe I will have some time." The woman's hand trembled slightly. "I hope the lady Rhen did not...offend you."

"Nay, dear Lady. I found her intriguing, and indeed I would enjoy a discussion with her as well." Nathaniel stated and placed his hand atop of hers, steadying it softly. "What troubles you?"

Neradine looked up at him. "I have kept to myself for many long years. People do not accept that which they cannot know. I fear that in telling you, I am drawing you into my world of deception. And good sir, I wish for that not to be so."

Lok started whistling to himself to pass the time.

"Dear Lady, you cannot draw me anywhere I do not wish to go." Nathaniel told her simply

"Thank you, Nathaniel," Neradine said as she walked back towards the cleric they had left behind.

Lok looked up with a bright smile on his face. "Ah, welcome back, friends. You both look dapper as springtime holly berries. I take it you both enjoyed your bath together?" He stumbled, gave a nervous laugh, and turned an embarrassed shade of red. "Oh dear, that didn't come out right. That's not what I meant." He shook his head, as if that would shake the embarrassment away, then continued, "It seems to be an eventful day tomorrow, best to get as much rest as we can, eh?" Lok moved over to the bell and lifted it to call the priest back.

"Friend Lok, that is no way to speak of the Lady." Nathaniel said curtly. Crossing his arms, he looked sternly at the cleric. "Mistake of the tongue, or naught, dear sir you owe the Lady an apology."

Neradine averted her eyes and a light color dusted her cheeks at Lok's words. She took a step away from the men and kept silent, arms wrapping defensively around herself. Neradine didn't want to make the situation any more embarrassing.

Blushing an even brighter shade of red than he thought possible, Lok looked at his feet and mumbled through an apology. "Please excuse my tongue, Lady Neradine. It apparently knows not what it says."

Nathaniel nodded with satisfaction as Lok apologized. It was not his call whether or not the apology were sufficient, that was for the Lady to decide. He, however, wished only for the words to be spoken.

The priest returned to the group, "Was your baths satisfactory?" he asked.

"Your tongue is forgiven," Neradine said cryptically. When the priest arrived to ask about their baths, she turned and more or less stalked from the room, headed towards where she had left her bag. The room of cots provided her a comfortable place to sit.

"Yes, Priest. I cannot speak for my companions, but mine was excellent," said Lok. "It's nice to rid myself of a span of road dirt. May we return to our bunks now?"

Nathaniel nodded his thanks to the priest as his eyes followed after Neradine. He hoped the Lady was alright. He felt she had just shared something incredibly sacred to her and couldn't help but feel his heart swell just a little at the thought.

Neradine sat on her cot crossed legged and took several deep breaths, waiting for the rest, especially Nathaniel, to join her again.

The Priest nodded, "You may return to your bunks at any time you wish." He said in response to Lok's question. "Just let me know should you need anything else."

Nathaniel took that as his exit queue and headed back to the bunk area, finding his near the Lady Neradine. He sat on his bunk and smiled fondly towards her

Standing smoothly, Neradine walked over and gestured to an empty space on the bunk. "May I join you?"

Nathaniel stood as she approached and nodded. "Of course, Dear Lady." He responded, bowing his head to her

With a smile, Neradine lowered herself to the cot and pulled her legs up underneath her so she wasn't touching the floor at all. "I feel as if I should share some of my actual story with you."

After she was seated, Nathaniel sat across from her on the bunk, folding his legs beneath him as he sat. "Are you sure you wish to tell where all these others may over hear?"

Lok happily returned to his bunk and was about to bid his companions a good night, but refrained when he spotted them chatting. Instead, he gathered his things and sorted them into a neat pile next to his bunk, slipped under the covers and was soon fast asleep.

"Which is of course why I said some," Neradine commented, watching as Lok came in and retired. She turned her attention back to Nathaniel. "Such as the fact that I did travel with Jerrit Sahlia for a short time. He was a very enigmatic individual. And I very much enjoyed his presence. He taught me a great many things. For him, adventuring was done for the sake of the adventure, not for profit or gain."

"I see. Please continue, I will try to keep my questions until you are finished." Nathaniel replied, nodding his head for her to continue as well.

"There was one journey we went on, the last one." Neradine paused as if debating how best to tell this story. "There are dangers to elves that many of other races do not know. And we both were unaware that this danger was following us. The creature came out of the woods and ran at us. I am not much of a fighter, but Jerrit...he was in his element. He slew the creature. Neither of us saw the second creep out behind us. Jerrit managed to push me out of the way, but he went down and the creature ran off, greatly injured. I remember everything from that night. Jerrit looked up at me and just said 'I do not want to die'. And I told him he would not."

Nathaniel listened intently as the Lady spoke her tale. When she told of the danger to elves that was unknown to others, his eyebrows knitted together in thought. In all his years of training, he could not recall hearing of something as such..."And so Jerrit Sahlia lives on through you, though he was slain by the creature that night?" He asked her curiously, he wanted to ask what the creature was, but he felt this was the more important question.

Neradine looked at her hands and nodded. "Yes. And I pray that I am doing him justice.". Doing her best to not turn red, she took several deep breaths.

"I may not know what the original Jerrit Sahlia was like, but the Jerrit that is you, Dear Lady, I consider a friend." Nathaniel told her with a nod and a smile.

A smile lit up Neradine's face. "He is gifted with the ability to make friends swiftly. Silver tongued, I believe they call it."

"So you will be competing as Jerrit Sahlia. But what of Lady Neradine?" Nathaniel asked curiously and tried to think back to when he had met her before. "Did I meet you, those years ago, or was it the original Lady Neradine?"

"Neradine is and always has been me," she replied with a small smile. "I started as an experiment in originality and Rhen enjoyed me so much I became her favored representative."

"I see. Then you are already a treasured friend, Lady Neradine." Nathaniel told her with a proud smile.

---

Mrath Teeg
The Kingdom of Mrath