Chapter 3 - The Meeting (1/2)
Mordred
Shiria
A servant had interrupted my study and spoke of a commotion at the tavern, so naturally, I had to investigate. There were so many problems I had to deal with, that I thought I would get a drink while I was there. And yet, I entered the tavern only to stare in horror as the people of the tavern were collapsed on the ground, screaming in fear and agony.
”Oh my God! Who did this?” I twisted my ring and channeled my energy through it. I was instantly ȧssaulted by an overwhelming force of fear. Yet, strangely, the magical signature reminded me of something. Shaking the feeling off, I took a second look at the scene before me, and found the scattered remnants of a second magical signature.
Following that until the trail ended, I came across a man with golden hair standing in the middle of the street. Renewing my sight, I twisted my ring and inspected him closely. The man glowed brightly with a golden aura. He was a mage.
”You there, do you know what happened in the inn?” I asked, jerking my thumb at the offending area. As the man turned to face me I heard the click of chain mail.
”Já, are you a part of the town gu-ard?” His voice was surprisingly light and high-pitched, and he spoke in a slight Skanadian lilt.
I scowled, I was not prepared to deal with a warrior. Diplomacy, I decided, would be the better option.
”No, but I am the Lord of this Town. My name is Mordred Leporum, and who might you be?”
I studied him a bit closer. He had a longsword hanging at his hip, and a bow casually slung over his shoulder. He was in full chain mail and his stance showed the years of experience he had, but his youthful appearance belied his power. His eyes were a sharp blue. A messy mop of curly blonde hair sat on his head. With an impressive height of 6 feet, he easily towered over me. His skin shined a pale gold. He would be a formidable foe, if he wasn't drunk.
”The na-namesss's Solskin, I'm kinda-a new in town.”
”Can you tell me what happened back there in the tavern?”
”Well, I-We, we got drunk, a tavern brawl started and some guy made some smoke and put everyone there on the floor.”
”How specific.” I drawled, ”And where would this man be?”
”I went after him, but I lost him. All I know is some kind of person wearing black followed him.”
I hoped I lost the two tailing me. Damn. This was not how I wanted to spend my evening. I slumped to the ground in an alleyway and looked up at the pale moon. It was almost a new moon, and I could already feel the throbbing in my arm. I needed more time, I needed to find Epoch. It was getting stronger each day that passed. And I was slowly losing my grip. I wanted to get away from it all. I clutched my bandaged arm and stared at it, willing it to go away. I sighed at my wishful thinking and examined my clothing. Ten years of hiding in the forests really done a number on them. They were torn at every possible place and were bȧrėly held together by a few stray threads. I tore off my uniform, revealing the scratched surface of my leather armour. My heart felt heavy, I was stripping away the last of my honor and pride. My eyes welled up as I reflected. Steeling myself, I continued. It was past time to get the old thing repaired, and besides, I needed some new clothes. I let out a heartfelt sigh, standing up slowly. I was about to take of for the woods, but I had realized I left my things behind. With another sigh, I warily made my way towards the tavern again, trying to avoid everyone.
As I headed back, I saw two figures standing in front of me. I recognized one of them as the man from before, the one who wanted information. I quickly darted into a small depression of a house, letting the darkness conceal me. I began to scan them and my surrounding. Now that I looked at him closely, it was clear that his face was youthful, but his cold blue eyes spoke of prior experience not usually seen in one so young. He was ready for combat, his sword drawn. His stance left little openings for attack, but he teetered from side to side from the dwarven pint earlier. He was still drunk. Studying the man next to him, I saw that he wore flowing purple robes that marked him as a noble of some sort. Past his robes, he was a twig of a man. His jet black hair was combed neatly and greased into place. His well-maintained visage suggested that he spent hours in front of a mirror. He nervously twisted a ring on his finger which was topped with a ruby. It glowed faintly with magical energy.
They stood in the middle of the road to the tavern. I quickly glanced around for ways to avoid them, but the stores and houses were pressed to together, boxing me in. I quickly determined that any escape route would result in me being seen. I mentally estimated my chances in a fight. Two on one, especially against a mage wasn't the best odds. Left with no other options, I step out into the light,
”He-ey, you from the tav-ern. Th-hose p-p-people are in pain 'ause of you. You're gonna pay for th-hat.” Still swaying, the man with the golden hair tensed, but the noble moved in front if him, looking pensive.
”I would would prefer not to fight this one, Solskin.” He turned his gaze toward me. ”You there, what magic did you use? While I have seen a similar spell used before, never have I seen such a… painful variant.” He continued twisting his ring as a nervous tick. His face clearly expressed his discomfort in this conversation. He was obviously not a fighter, yet he had a certain sense of power to him. ”But first, allow me introduce myself. I am Lord Mordred Leporum of the Town of Shiria,” he gestured with his hands around him.
”Name's Xavier,” I said abruptly. ”I just broke up the fight. Why are you so hostile?”
”Hostile?” Mordred looked confused. ”What do you mean, hostile? I'm just asking questions.”
”Th-hey 're still in pain, ya know. You shooould 'a been nicer,” grunted Solskin. His grip on his sword relaxed, but it was still drawn and ready. Some progress.
”I wasn't aware of that,” I attempted to reassure him, ”It was a new spell I learned recently from a friend.”