Behind him Geim heard a rattle of metal. He turned just in time to see the old man breathing a “I did as you asked”, and then run like a squirrel. Two Khords entered the building, one carrying a heavy hammer, the other a metal chain. They looked like regular thugs, but of strong build. And did the cleric notice a red glow in their eyes, or was it his imagination?

No good deed went unpunished he decided, Greim decided that he would not wait for these two to explain what was happening. On the other hand he did not want to initiate an attack. He decided his best course was to exit this place so he called on Kharox to give him Bull’s Strength as he cast that spell. If he had luck, he might still get out of this.

Khordal Kingdom
Warrens of Caelbo
23rd day of the 7th month: Pfier
5:49 pm
Geim wasn’t one to jump into battle if he could help it. He called for Kharox to aid him in strength. On completion of the prayer he felt his muscles swell and tighten in his cloths.The two Khords did not seem impressed though.

“Your God is not going to be able to help you, priest.” Spoke the one with the chain. “Very soon all of you will die before us.”

His words had been spoken in the Draconic tongue. He now lashed out his chain, and though it didn’t quite reach Geimiedefher, the gesture implied enough. The Khord with the hammer rushed in now, while his comrade remained in the door opening. Down came the hammer, aimed well, but it skimmed off on Geim’s heavy armor. The thug looked surprised, but the failure also heightened his anger.

---

Maelamin Kingdom
Bladesinger Keep
25th day of the 7th month: Pfier
9:20 pm
“I am ready to serve,"

Gyvontill smiled. “Yes, I know you are. There are many tasks that a bladesinger can fullfill. Please, sit down a moment.”

He motioned for the desk, but prefered to be standing himself.

“The Bladesingers have worked in service of the crown and the Sylvari people for as long as any of us can remember. We have fought in wars and shadowed in secrecy just for the greater good of the kingdom and its residents. The journey that I have planned for you is a very important one….”

“… you have one day to say goodbye to your family and friends. Normally we wouldn’t give you any time, but since this is your first time, we’ll make an exception. Tell them you’re now a bladesinger, but reveal nothing of the task you’ve been given. Gather what you need, and report at the keep tomorrow at midday.”

He gave a nod and saw to it that she was escorted outside the keep by an esquire. There were plenty of preparations to do.

(OOC: I’m sending you a private message with the assignment.)

Tobin was more than a bit surprised at Alyssia's decision to tag along after Draven, when the dark human made it perfectly clear that he was not interested in company.

The cidal wondered if the mage knew what kind of place they were about to enter. Surely not… Tobin thought to himself as he looked upon the fair follower of Lysora. While he desired to leave Draven to himself, he felt Alyssia should not be left on her own. Letting out a sigh, he followed after them, trying to keep in step with the mage.

They finally reached The Clouded Mug without incident, and with hardly a word passed between them. It made a cidal a bit uncomfortable to go without both, and Tobin was no exception. He was tempted more than once to strike out on his own, go explore some nook here or some cranny there, but he pushed his desires away in favor of the greater good of watching over his charges (for that is how he viewed his companions).

Draven was first to order, and Tobin waited to see what “the strongest drink” looked like before ordering himself. Carion’s Acid did not look to his liking. Instead he asked the barkeeper for a few of his favorites from his last trip to Khordal, “Do you have any Imperial Pride or Bear Claw ale? I do like them. Or something dark and stout but not too strong.”

Turning his attention back to his companions, Tobin caught Alyssia attempt at conversation with Draven. Predictably, the brooding man would have none of it and told her so plainly.

Taking his drink, the cidal was just about to suggest that the mage and him take Draven’s suggestion and find another table, when some commotion off to the side caught his attention. As the finely dressed khord keeled over, seemingly poisoned, Tobin put his drink down, not feeling so confident as to its quality.

Keeping his eyes on the events unfolding, Tobin spoke to Alyssia, “Draven is right. There are lots of open tables here, Alyssia. Let’s leave the man to brood, and look for more pleasant conversations…” The cidal watched as the hulking sigie hauled the offending khord out of the tavern. “… and, perhaps, more pleasant places.”

Tobin flashed Alyssia a bright, hopeful smile.

Geimiedehfer had hoped that they would both attack, but only the one with the hammer came at him while the other remained in the door. They must be very confident to attack one at at time. It did not matter since he probably did not have much time, He needed to get to the door and back outside. He hoped to dance around this one and force his way out.

“For Kharox!” he yelled as he brought his war axe down in as hard a swing as possible againts the thug hoping that a way to the door would open and nothing else would go wrong, Perhaps he couold knock the foe out of his way.

"Thank you, Lord Gyvontill, for the consideration, but I could not ride to Sillarion Somion'Enrai, The Aeryie of the High King, and back in one day, and that is where my parents serve. "My mother was a Royal Guard for the Queen, and my Father was a Court Bard before I was born. They moved to Kerta-Istel in Maelamin after I was born where my father studied and I grew up. They took me everywhere, so that I could experience all what was the Sylvari Kingdom. We lived and explored many places in the Northern, Middle, and Southern parts of the Sylvari Kingdom.

“I was so taken with becoming a Bladesinger that they came back to see that I got my chance, but once I entered Megilindar Nost, they went back to their old duties."

She looks to the north, knowing how much she would have loved to rush up to them and announce her news. But there was no time.

“I will write them a letter and send it by courier.”

She nods to the man and half turns to go out, “Could you, tell me who I can see about what I might need where I am going. I have some goods and supplies that my parents provided and a small sum of money to pick up a few other things. And,” she adds on another note, “will I have need for a horse?”

One of the things she had always loved about her mother was her Teu'kelytha, her Moon Steed. Star Eyes was a mature and ever-faithful companion of her mother, even when she was just being a mother.

Elessarae remembered being cradled in her mother'srms and being rocked back and forth by the movements of the silvery-white mare. And when she was old enough her mother would put her on the mare's broad back and Elessarae would wrap her chubby child's hands in the mare's long mane and laugh and giggle as her mother walked along side and held her on.

She too had wanted a Moon Steed but then were not the mounts of common elves, Maybe it was one of the reasons she wanted to become a Bladesinger, because she had wanted a Moon Steed of her own. While they lived in Maelamin one of her favorite spots to visit in Maelamin was the Tel'kelytha Duin, the Mood Steed River. The the Moon Steeds frolicked in the waters and grazed in the lush meadows.

Now she was a Bladesinger, but she did not have the time to even go down to the river and ask one of the Moon Steeds if it would join her.

Once outside, she thanked the esquire for his escort, nodded to the guards at the door of the keep, picked up her pack and headed for her dorm room.

OOC: as above, I just thought it was gonna move along

IC: Alyssia returned Tobin's smile with a warm one of her own. Draven's very actions toward made it certain that she was not wanted at the moment. Yet, she could just not leave him be. It would take some time, but the young woman was certain the the dark man would warm up to her. After all, a pretty woman usually was able to get to the center of a man's heart and she was most certainly not an ugly specimen of the female gender. Maybe, just maybe, he had the outlook of a hermit, not really ever wanting any company at all.

Still, Alyssia was convinced that Lysora had sent her on this path to help her fairly new companion escaped the darkness that was his soul. She would eventually find a way to heal the man's heart, even if it did take the rest of her lifetime. Patience was something that she had in a significant abundance.

"Alright Tobin," she said to the cidal, "let us go and find ourselves another table. I am informing you now though, I have no money for drink."

With that she gave the little man a wink and laughed quietly.

OOC: just noticed something and didn't think of it before; I do have nimbus of light but I don't think it would be a good idear anyways. I don't think that I want these fellers to know that I am a complete goody-tooshoo cause then we might just have some real trouble on our hands.

“Draven is right. There are lots of open tables here, Alyssia. Let’s leave the man to brood, and look for more pleasant conversations…” The cidal watched as the hulking sigie hauled the offending khord out of the tavern. “… and, perhaps, more pleasant places.”

When the little man had finished, he flashed a smile at Alyssia. Draven imitated it with his own, obviously cynical grin. Gold flashed from the gold canine he possessed. He didn't speak again, however, and he didn't even watch them as they got up to leave.

The ruckus and subsequent dragging of some giant mans victim out of the tavern did warrent his attention, but nothing more. Alone, Draven slid farther down his bench and deeper into the shadows. Pulling his hood up, he withdrew his onyx smoking pipe. Packing it perfectly, and lighting it, he relaxed, and watched the ongoings of the tavern. From the darkness, only his golden eyes and the soft orange glow of his pipe would be seen, but every so often he grab a passing server and order another drink.

(just chilling, waiting and watching)

The Clouded Mug
Khordal Kingdom
22nd day of the 7th month: Pfier
3:20 pm
Their conversation cut short, Alyssia and Tobin found another table. As they set down the sorceress realized that the aura of light surrounding her would be better turned off. But then again, she had walked in radiating good energy, and none of the Khords had reacted to that in any way.
While they talked about their adventures, Draven sat alone at his table and waited for what was to come. Thought apart, they all observed one thing: the atmosphere of the Clouded Mug was one of dark taverns, it even inhabited the sinister talk of those establishments. Still, nothing bad happened after the poisoning of the rich Khord. It seemed as if some kind of silent agreement was made not to break the peace.

The body of the rich Khord was eventually taken away, the floor cleaned as slightly as possible, the event erased from the memory of the Mug. A couple of Khords embarked in an aggressive dagger throwing competition, aimed at a target on the wall. Customers came and went, creating a constant filling and ebbing of the room. It took the adventurers a while to realize that time went fast, and that the night had probably claimed the sky outside the mountain. Their meeting with their new employer was soon to come. Hunger and sleep were slowly trying to take over, and they learned that no food other than Khordaldrum snacks, and no rooms were available. The Clouded Mug was a tavern, a bar, but not an inn welcoming guests to stay over.
They were redirected to another part of the Warrens, where they found refuge in the Stone Ocean. With full bellies they went to their rooms and slept for a long time.

**********

The next day they took a quick breakfast and asked the innkeeper for directions. He told them the Granitefingers family had a massive mansion over in the Warrens of Caelbo. This meant going back up a level. The crowded streets and tunnels finally brought them to a larger cave, where their eye fell directly on their destination. The Granitfingers’ residence was built on the base of an enormous stalagmite. The stone walls seemed to flow into the natural phenomena as if they belonged there. On the façade above the double door they recognized the same symbol that was etched into the green diamond they had received. A pompous villa it was, with rich ornamentation, but not so much to become a brew of forms. It was splendour over the top.

A servant answered their knock and lead them through a large hall with winding stairs, to a small study. There they were ordered to wait until the master of the house would arrive. Upon entering the cosy room they found it to be already occupied. An elf accompanied by a wolf was already waiting.

(OOC: I ruled that all of you go together in this post. If you desire to fill in the time that was given in some other way, you are free to write so. I just wanted things sped up a bit )

---

Khordal Kingdom
Warrens of Caelbo
23rd day of the 7th month: Pfier
5:49 pm
He was a cleric of Kharox, a Runemaster looking for lore, not a warrior in search of a fight. Geim wanted to get out as fast as possible. So he ran straight past the thug with the hammer. The Khord made another slam in Geim’s direction but the cleric was already gone before the swing came.
He rushed up to the one with the chain.

“For Kharox!!” he called out, but the thug suddenly lashed out with his chain, reaching farther than Geim had anticipated. With his shoulder he bounced away the attack and came up again with a sudden strike with his waraxe. His swing came from a low position, for he had just countered a strike. Up came his blade and sank deep in the arm pit of the thug. Deeper it went in Geim’s momentum and it sliced straight through the joint and into the thugs neck.
Not thinking but acting on instinct, the cleric yanked free his blade and ran for the nearest tunnel that would lead him back to the main streets. He didn’t even see the red light in the eyes of the thug go out.

(OOC: This is where you say: Woohoo, I scored a critical hit! )

---

Maelamin Kingdom
Bladesinger Keep
25th day of the 7th month: Pfier
9:20 pm
“Go as fast as you can.” Had been Gyvontill’s reply to her question about a horse.

Although she wanted nothing more than to own herself the companionship of a moonsteed, she knew that visiting the river meant going south, a detour from her assignment.
Once she was out of the keep, she headed for her supplies. The most necessary of things she had already on her. While she sped through the forest she became aware of the shriek of an eagle. She looked around and noticed a bird flying rapidly towards her. It was a familiar vision now, for it was the second time that day this had occurred. The bird flew over her and dropped a small leather bag in front of her feet.

It was a belt pouch, containing a sum of 25 gold pieces, 3 gems that she knew equalled 5 GP each, and ten silver coins. There was a small note also, that held instructions for the stables in Tinechur, a small town nearby, to give Elessarae a young horse to speed up her journey.

It seemed making it to that town was the next step once she completed her departure.

She was all ready to gather her equipment and and then spend the night at her dorm room, until the eagle delivered its package and note.

It seemed the Blademaster Elder was giving her extra time. For she knew, no horse could make it to Sillarion and back by tomorrow, unless it had wings. And her chance of finding a pegasus that would carry her to Sillarion was far less likely than finding a Moonhorse to join her.

Elessarae ran to her room and unpacked any unnecessary equipment. She took the barest essentials which she repacked in her pack, plus a change of under clothes, trail rations, two quivers of arrows and her weapons. Along with her two belt pouches.

She ran from the Dorms and took a trail northwest toward Tinechur in a ground eating stride that she could keep up for miles. She ran with a bow in hand and an arrow notched and held in place by her left hand. Which would allow her to swiftly raise the bow, draw, and fire.

She kept alert and ready, Elven Forests were wild.

His name was Malius Darkblade, a name given to him by others as an orphan he was found.
Though a High Elf found in the forests of Alloryen, The Northern Sylvari Kingdom, from the first moment found the rumors and whispers of his linage begin for Malius’s skin was darker then any normal Elf, yet not as dark as that of the legendary Drow and as such there were those that thought him to be half dark Elf.
But with both parents assumed dead and nowhere to be found there was no proof of any such blood relation, yet growing up the boy Elf would bare its mark.

Given to a highborn couple to be raised it was not long before he found himself on the streets of Ela-Isthtel finding himself in as much trouble as that which he caused. His skin a cause for ridicule the young Elf with as yet no name did fight to defend himself, his honor and his right to be called Elf. So it was at his naming ceremonies that due to this tendency to cause strive he was given the first name of Malius (a take on the word Malice) and due to the darkness of his skin the last name Darkblade.

With his "Adult" years before him and his dislike of the city intense, he packed up his things and into the forests did go to live among the trees, and finally after 2 years of searching, did find himself a place of solitude on the outskirts of Palantir. Here he would no longer feel the hatred and curses thrown at him due to his darker then normal skin and he could heal from a lifetime of fighting just to survive.

But it was here that something amazing did begin as animals of all kinds began to come to him and seemingly seek his friendship, more each year then the year before. A Wolf did became his best friend and he named her Spite, the next year it was a pair of ferrets, a mated pair it seemed, and he named the male Codo and the female Podo. Of all the animals to seek him out he shared with these three a deeper level of communication as if they all were mentally linked and it was here that Malius realized for the first time his calling as a Ranger.

Standing alone now in a room in the underground city of Khordal the Ranger smiled to himself as he remembered his true beginning. The years that had passed him by a fraction of the many before him and in their passing he had gained a reputation among adventurers as one to be trusted, and though he could have changed his name at any time he chose to keep it as a reminder of his past.

As Malius gazed at the study room around him he along with Spite, Podo and Codo outside keeping watch (more likely hiding or sleeping), he thought of the note and emerald gem that had brought him to the home of Guland Granitefingers a well known Khordal gem merchant and a wealthy one at that. Though the need for him as yet unknown the offer of more riches intriguing, Malius had journeyed from his forest home two days to reach this room, only to await a gathering of more adventurers. As the minutes did turn into a half an hour finally the others arrived.

The four who did enter the study were without a doubt the most unlikely of adventurers Malius had ever seen.
The first was clearly a Cidal dressed as if wealthy, yet with a mask upon his face.
The next was male Khordal dressed clearly as one of the magical arts, a wizard or Sorcerer no doubt.
The third, a male Human in dark clothing, who by his build could possibly be a warrior, was normal compared to the last of the four, this being a Human female dressed as if a beggar plunked from the alleys of the streets outside.

What kind of mission was this to warrant the inclusion of a homeless beggar crossed the Ranger’s mind as he politely did nod to each in greeting as they entered. For now the only one with such info was of course their host, who as yet had not appeared. All Malius Darkblade could do now was await the coming of Guland Granitefingers.....

Kharox must have guided his arm because Geim was a cleric, a researcher, and not a warrior. Out in the street, he briefly thought about reentering that room. However he felt that there now other forces that appeared to be in play. Someone had attempted to stop this mission and the light in the eyes of his foes meant that there was something important to accomplish. Strange things had happened this day. First there was the meeting of the lady in the library and now this.

“Horc’tun Meltpot, may the Ageless Craftsman remember you!” he muttered as he hurried to keep his appointment.

Alyssia once again found herself striding through the dim corridors of the Khord Kingdom, working her way to the next destination in the quest she called life. It was this very thing that she found stimulatin, the very thought of going off into the unknown. With no idea of what was next in her life’s journey, this road that Lysora had set her upon. Light suffused her and glowed in a small distance around her and aided in her need for a sight that allowed her to see in this forsaken darkness. The dimly lit caverns were not the best place for a human. It was something that she would need to grow used to quite quickly if they spent much more time in them.

The mansion that stood before them was one of great majesty, a monument to the Khordal architecture. It was a thing that amazed as it stood there in the dim light, surrounded in a kind of shadowing effect that made it seem bigger than it probably was. Her small group was shown inside, they being eager to get this meeting over with. Inside there was an elf, most likely another guest, but there was still no Khord to greet them. Alyssia wondered where he could be at.

Tobin was excited... there was no hiding the exuberance from the cidal's face. It was the starting of new adventures that was getting his blood pumping.

Tobin quickly ate his breakfast and waited for the rest of his companions, his gear packed and ready to go the night before. Don't forget to grab some arrows, Little Warrior.
While he waited for his companions, Tobin chatted up the innkeeper, retelling the tale of their encounter with Troshba... "Shoulda seen the beast! Teeth as long as swords! The spikes on it's tail like javelins! The thing was throwin' them around like a rain storm in the Keg!"

The innkeeper just nodded his head, half listening. "Should of seen it... uh huh..."

OOC: TO BE CONTINUED...

Tobin and his comanions got directions from the innkeeper, and were soon off to find the Granitefingers estate. When they finally approached their destination, Tobin paused to let out a shrill whistle. "Wow!" he said softly to himself as he took in the grandeur of the place. "This ought to be good!" he said to Alyssia. "Should be no problem asking the good khord to raise the price for our service, heh?"

As they entered the waiting room, the cidal immediately notice the dark-skinned syl. Now that's something you don't see everyday. Especially not down under...
Curiousity took the better of Tobin, and he reached out a hand of friendship. "Name's Tobin, friend. Tobin Tumblebelly, hero of the little folk. These folks be my companions. I'm sure they'll introduce themselves if ya ask nicely... well... except for Draven..." Tobin leaned in close to the syl and whispered, "He's not so friendly like, so don't take it personally."

Looking at the wolf, "She with you?" The cidal reached down gently to pet the wolf.

OOC: Wild empathy check with the wolf... not looking to steal her. Just pet her.

Draven hadn't spoken to his companions since the tavern, and infact, he hadn't wanted to leave the place. Deciding however, that he was low on cash, and cash would only come if he took it from someone, or proceeded with his mission, he decided at last to get up and head out. He wasn't in the mood to rob, and he had an appointment. Before leaving, however, he refilled his flask with whatever the noxious liquid he had been drinking was.

Standing now in the study of the mansion, Draven IreDante lingered in the shadows of the study. His eyes burned like two hellish beacons. A sign he wasn't in a pleasant mood, and to someone who didn't know him, a warning that he was not human, but infact, of Fiendish blood. Infact, the man with the golden eyes did little to counter this misconception. He wouldn't deny being fiendish if asked, and in his past, he had defended himself many times from self deemed "Holy" warriors.

Draven's eyes flashed brighter for a moment at the memories. And he grinned to himself. He had always wondered why, for such "holy" men, the souls of the Paladins he had slain tasted the same as any other man.

Hefting the massive, onyx Dai-Katana that was slung over his shoulder, and swiping his long, black and red streaked hair behind his shoulders with it, he went about investigating the books that lined the walls. He heard Tobin introduce himself and whether or not the others would introduce themselves, Draven Ire'Dante remained silent.