Whims of Kiraan

Most of the rest of the evening was spent discussing the logistics of the newfound guild. Taer’inar wanted to make sure that everyone involved remained compliant with the law, since a representative of the Seal would be overseeing the guild’s affairs. Ithan had his reservations about Unit 17 observing his movements, but he kept them to himself. It’s not like I have much say in the matter.

“Now on to the matter of expeditions,” Taer’inar said. “Does anyone have anything particular in mind?” Ithan considered speaking out about the City of Living Trees, but he was curious about his new guildmates’ interests.

“I would like to go south of the Spider Forest,” Storm replied, “but I’m not sure we’re equipped for that just yet.”

“Speak for yourself,” Dhurik grunted. “I’ll crush anything that gets in my way.”

“What business do you have there?” Taer’inar asked the minotaur. He turned to the elf and grinned.

“There’s an axe in the desert far to the south,” he replied.

“Isn’t the one you have good enough?” Storm questioned. Dhurik chuckled.

“This isn’t just any old axe,” Dhurik continued. “It belonged to a mighty minotaur from long ago.”

“Ah, yes,” Taer’inar said. “I have a similar interest in the north. Perhaps we could split up into two groups?”

“That’s a terrible idea,” a voice called from beneath the table. Startled, Taer’inar jumped away and placed a hand on one of his swords. Ian climbed out from underneath the table and stood on top of it.

“What do you want, pipsqueak?” Ithan grumbled. The halfling glared at him for a moment before turning to the rest of the table.

“The whole point of a guild is to do things together,” Ian said. “If you all split up right away, you’re all going to end up dead.”

“I concur!” Bimpnottin shouted. “Though I would certainly do fine on my own, the rest of you should stick together!” He joined Ian on top of the table. “And as your glorious guildmaster, I will gladly accompany you to ensure your safety!”

“Guildmaster my right hoof,” Dhurik snorted. “We already decided we don’t have one.” He shook the table, causing the halfling and the gnome to topple onto the ground.

“That was uncalled for!” Ian cried.

“I don’t care,” Dhurik huffed. Ian’s face went red with anger. “Go cry about it to Tree-Hugger, half-pint.” Ian crossed his arms and stomped his foot on the ground.

“Anyway,” Taer’inar interrupted, “if we want to travel as a group, we’ll need to decide where we’ll want to go first. How many of us have interests in the north?” Bimpnottin’s and Ian’s hands shot up immediately. “Well, that’s three of six‍—”

“Actually, that makes four of seven,” Unit 17’s voice droned from behind the elf. He had somehow escaped Ithan’s notice when approaching the table. Taer’inar shouted and stumbled into the table.

“Would you people please stop sneaking up on me?” the elf muttered. He turned around to face the terran. “So, your investigative work is to the north, is it?”

“Affirmative,” Unit 17 replied. “However, my target destination is beyond the Green Mountains. I must locate a path through the mountains before I may continue my work.”

“What about the rest of you?” Taer’inar asked as he turned back to the table. “How many of you would like to look for a path through the mountains?” Bimpnottin and Ian both raised their hands again. Storm looked to be uninterested.

“As long as I get to fight something I don’t care,” Dhurik said.

“And you, Mor’lavan?” Taer’inar continued. The City of Living Trees was to the west, so moving through the mountains was not ideal. Yet Ithan was oddly compelled to explore the other regions of Averion. Perhaps he could find something more powerful than the artifact hidden in the Crypt of Kings. He figured the elven city‍—and Kiraan‍—could wait a bit longer.

“Sure, why not?” he replied. “When should we set out?”

“Well, I would like to leave as soon as possible,” Taer’inar answered, “but I know you and Dhurik have your tournament tomorrow. Shall we say tomorrow afternoon, after the tournament?”

“Sounds like a plan!” Ian shouted. Dhurik and Storm nodded silently in agreement.

“Then let us all get plenty of rest and prepare ourselves for our journey,” Unit 17 added. “I will be stationed in one of the housing units on the second floor of this establishment. Please alert me if there are any disturbances.” He turned and left the table, marching up the stairs and out of sight.

“I think I’ll turn in as well,” Ithan said. He collected the dishes from the table and brought them into the kitchen. Fenvyre and Sonys were already there, washing mugs and other dishes from earlier in the evening.

“Hi, Lava!” Fenvyre shouted when she saw Ithan approach. “Thanks for the food!”

“Not a problem,” Ithan replied as he set his dishes down next to the sink. “Do you need help in here?”

“No, we’re fine,” Sonys said. “Go somewhere else. We’re still having girl time.”

“How long does ‘girl time’ last?” Ithan joked.

“Until I say so,” Sonys snapped. “Now run along.” Fenvyre lifted her head up from her task and turned it toward Ithan curiously. Frustrated, Ithan groaned and stomped out of the kitchen, listening to the girls laugh behind him. Everyone but Taer’inar had left the table they had been sitting at. Dhurik had moved to the bar and was enjoying a mug of beer, but the others must have gone to their rooms for the evening. Ithan ascended the stairs and entered his room, locking the door behind him. After a deep breath, he summoned his glaive and made a few practice swings and lunges at the air. He had done well against Rhogar, but now he had to prepare himself to face Dhurik. The minotaur lived for battle; it would not be easy going up against him. Even if he did not face Dhurik during the first match, he would surely face him in the second.

Why do you waste time with these trivialities? Kiraan questioned. You could easily overpower these creatures if you used the power I have already given you.

I know you don’t like to fight fair, Ithan replied, but I still have some semblance of pride.

Pride! Kiraan laughed. Here you are, a deformed lesser creature allowing yourself to bend to the will of other lesser creatures, and you speak of pride!

Yet I haven’t bent to your will, have I?

Don’t push your luck.

An intense pain began to radiate from Ithan’s chest, and his body seized.

I’ve been very patient with you, Mor’lavan. I’ve allowed you to do as you please for almost two years now. You will go to the Crypt of Kings before winter’s end.

The pain made it difficult for Ithan to breathe. It was like he was being crushed in the grasp of a giant.

Do you understand?

“Y-yes,” Ithan choked. The pressure subsided, and Ithan collapsed on the ground, coughing and gasping for air. This was the first time Kiraan had reacted violently to Ithan’s defiance. Before now, he had assumed that Kiraan could only observe and communicate with him mentally. Having now been reprimanded physically left Ithan with a newfound fear of his patron.

Good. You may proceed with your previous arrangements for now, but I expect you to make plans to travel west soon.

After a few more moments laying on the ground, Ithan felt some of the strength return to his body. He lifted himself up from the floor and dragged himself to his bed, dismissing his glaive as he lay back down. Staring at the ceiling, he tried to calm himself down by humming some of his mother’s lullaby. It seemed to be enough to allow him to breathe easier, and as he closed his eyes to try to sleep, he thought he heard someone else humming faintly nearby.

🙡◊🙣

Screams echo through the village square as Ithan hides behind a tree. He peers cautiously around the trunk toward the square. His mother is standing there, facing the one man he hoped to never see again‍—Varian. The two of them are speaking, but Ithan cannot make out what they are saying. Suddenly, Varian draws his sword and impales Ithan’s mother through the abdomen.

“No!” Ithan cries as he summons his glaive and leaps at Varian. Varian swiftly evades the attack and pierces through Ithan’s body with his sword. Ithan drops his glaive and begins coughing up blood. “M-monster,” he mutters as his vision begins to blur. Varian pulls the blade from Ithan’s body and kicks him to the ground.

“Fool,” Varian replies. “I am not the monster here.”

🙠◊🙢

The arena was fairly empty when Ithan and Dhurik arrived. They were greeted by Brollynn and Shakul, the other dragonkin competitor. Shakul wielded a greatsword and was clad in heavy armor. He held the sword across his shoulders, and he held a helmet underneath his left arm.

“Let’s all have a good time, eh?” Brollynn said as the overseer approached the four. Dhurik and Shakul both grunted in response.

“Good morning, combatants!” the overseer shouted. “We still have a good amount of time before we begin, so let me go over the rules with you once again.”

“I think we’re all well-versed in arena fighting by now,” Shakul argued. “Can we skip the formalities and get to it?”

“I’m afraid not,” the overseer replied. “There is a representative of the Seal here with us today, and I don’t feel like being arrested for not doing my job.” Ithan glanced around the arena, spying Unit 17 near the entrance. “So, we’re doing things by the book today.”

“Fine,” Shakul said. “Let’s get on with it.”

“Thank you,” the overseer said. “Now, as you all are aware, we are not barbarians‍—we are not fighting to the death. Please fight to your fullest potential but do refrain from excessive violence for the sake of your fellow combatants. If you put your opponent or arena patrons in any life-threatening circumstances, you will be removed, arrested, and banned from future tournaments.”

“That’s it, right?” Dhurik asked.

“Yes, that’s all there is,” the overseer sighed. “Was that so difficult?”

“Yes,” Dhurik and Shakul replied in unison. The overseer shook his head.

“And now for your matches. The first match will be Mor’lavan against Brollynn.” The dwarf flashed a wide smile at Ithan. “Then we’ll have Dhurik and Shakul, and then we’ll have the winners of those two matches face each other in the final match.” He clapped his hands together. “We’ll begin shortly. Have fun!” As he walked away from the group, Ithan looked back toward Unit 17; the terran had moved into the stands. Large groups of dragonkin were beginning to make their way into the stands, as well.

“We’re up first, huh?” Brollynn asked as she walked up to Ithan. “Get ready for a beating.”

“I’ll make you eat those words,” Ithan replied as he smiled back at the dwarf. “Don’t let your guard down.”

“My guard doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘down’,” Brollynn said.

“People of Greenreach!” the overseer called from his platform. Brollynn and Ithan exchanged waves and began walking away from each other to the edges of the arena. “Our first semifinal match is about to begin! This match is between Brollynn, the little dwarf that packs a lot of punch, and our very own hero of Greenreach, Mor’lavan!”

“Go Lava!” Fenvyre called from somewhere in the crowd. He looked up from his opponent and found her green amongst the crimson; she and Sonys had found seats near the overseer’s platform. He waved at them, then summoned his glaive. He then turned his attention back to Brollynn, who was making a few practice swings with her hammer.

“Are our competitors ready?” the overseer asked. Ithan nodded as he tightened the grip on his glaive and widened his stance. Brollynn give a thumbs up to the overseer. Moments later, the overseer rang the bell, and Ithan dashed forward toward the dwarf. Brollynn dodged Ithan’s first attack and swung her hammer at his side. It was only a glancing blow, but it was still powerful enough to knock Ithan aside and nearly make him lose his footing. A frontal assault would not work against Brollynn, so he tried instead to maneuver around her. To his surprise, she was able to dodge all of his attacks while carrying around her massive hammer. When she swung the hammer at him again, he leapt out of the way and lunged forward. Before he could get a hit on her, though, Brollynn swung once more, pressing it into Ithan’s gut and launching him across the arena.

“Look at him go!” Brollynn shouted as Ithan flew through the air before slamming into the arena wall. Gasping for air, he tried to regain his footing as he held his free arm over his stomach. He did not expect to be put down so quickly. “Hey, you’re not dead, right?” Brollynn asked. He coughed in reply. “Oh, good.”

“And in a stunning display of power, Brollynn takes the match!” the overseer shouted as Ithan was pulled to his feet. Brollynn had rushed over to him and held him up until he could regain his balance.

“I’m fine,” Ithan grumbled, dismissing his glaive and brushing the dirt off of his armor.

“Sorry about that,” Brollynn said. “The hammer does most of the work. I just swing it.”

“You’re pretty agile, too,” Ithan replied. “I didn’t land a hit on you.”

“You were moving a lot slower than yesterday,” Brollynn said, following behind Ithan as he walked toward the arena entrance. It’s because I didn’t get enough sleep.

“I guess it was just an off day for me,” Ithan laughed. “Sorry to have been a bad opponent.”

“We’ll have to have a rematch sometime,” Brollynn said. “Hey, did you wanna stick around for the rest?”

“I’m going to head back,” Ithan replied. “Going out to the mountains later, and I want to rest a little.”

“Fair. Don’t die before our rematch!” Ithan left Brollynn at the entrance and headed back to the tavern. Knocked out by a dwarf… At least I didn’t have to face Dhurik.

When he reached the fountain, Apostalite was not in their usual spot. It seemed even the most devoted acolytes had to take breaks now and then. When he entered the tavern, though, he was surprised to find Apostalite and Taer’inar conversing at the bar.

“So, you will be heading out to the mountains this afternoon?” Apostalite asked.

“Yes,” Taer’inar replied. “Will you be joining us?” He looked as though he was about to have a panic attack as he asked the question.

“I do have things to do beyond the mountains,” the ignan answered, “but it is a bit too soon to venture out there, I think. Perhaps next time.”

“I see. May I ask what it is that interests you out there?”

“If you must know‍—” Apostalite stopped short when they noticed Ithan. “Why hello there, my lovely Mor’lavan!” Taer’inar turned to face Ithan as well.

“This is why I wanted to go tomorrow,” Taer’inar groaned. “You went and got yourself beaten up.”

“I’m fine,” Ithan muttered. “I just need a little bit of rest before we go.”

“Did you win, at least?” Briryn asked from behind the bar.

“…No.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Briryn said. “You were up against a tough crowd.” He pulled out the bottle of Aeviri from underneath the bar and a glass. “You deserve a glass anyway.”

“Is that‍—” Taer’inar shouted as he snatched the bottle from Briryn. He inspected the bottle for a moment, turning it around in his hands. “Where did you get a bottle of Aeviri?!”

“A friend gave it to me a long time ago,” Briryn replied as he grabbed the bottle away from the elf and began pouring a glass.

“Are you kidding?! How much do you charge per glass?”

“Nothing. Mor’lavan’s the only one that likes the stuff.” Taer’inar glanced at Ithan with a look of utter disbelief, with a hint of longing.

“Let him have that glass,” Ithan said to Briryn. “I really don’t deserve it.” Taer’inar’s face lit up as he looked over at Briryn. Briryn pulled out a second glass and poured more wine into it, then set it in front of Taer’inar. Ithan rolled his eyes and approached the bar. He took the glass that Briryn had poured him and took a sip from it.

“This is the most expensive stuff in Nylserine,” Taer’inar said cheerily as he lifted his glass. “For very good reason, I might add. How long ago did you get this?”

“Oh, almost fifteen years ago,” Briryn replied. “He was a good elf. Always liked helping out around the city. He even helped us when there was a bad illness running through. Saved a lot of lives, that one.”

“What happened to him?” Taer’inar asked. Briryn shook his head.

“The poor guy went out into the wilds and never came back,” Briryn said. “Said he was looking for something in some city made of trees.” Ithan’s head perked up at hearing this.

“Do you know anything about that place?” Ithan interrupted.

“Nothing, just that it’s in the west.” Briryn narrowed his eyes as he looked at Ithan. “You’re not planning on going out that way, are you?”

“…Maybe,” Ithan mumbled. “Not now, but I want to go there before winter’s end.”

“I’ll add it to the list,” Taer’inar said. “An elf looking for something in a city that sounds very elven… Sounds promising.” He drank the last of his glass, smiled at Briryn, and pulled out several gold coins from his pocket and put them in front of Briryn. “That should cover my drink.”

“I said it was free,” Briryn muttered.

“Take it anyway,” Taer’inar said. “You deserve it for putting up with all of us.” Briryn laughed as Taer’inar stepped away from the bar and toward the stairs.

“So Mor’lavan,” Apostalite said as Taer’inar ascended the stairs, “I have a proposition for you.”

“I’m listening,” Ithan said between sips of his wine.

“Sometime soon, I would like to embark on a pilgrimage out into the place beyond the mountains. Would you care to join me when that time comes?”

“How soon is ‘soon?’”

“Perhaps not before winter’s end, but not long after.”

“We’ll see,” Ithan replied. “I may not stick around for that long.”

“That would be quite disappointing,” Apostalite remarked. “Well, think about it. You know where to find me.” They stood up and walked out of the tavern. Moments later, Dhurik entered with a bloodied arm and dirt on his face.

“Stupid cheating lizard-man,” Dhurik grumbled angrily as he sat down at the bar. “Can I get a beer?” he asked Briryn.

“You say Shakul cheated?” Briryn questioned. “He doesn’t seem the type.”

“He kicked dirt in my eyes,” the minotaur replied. “Couldn’t get a clean swing at him.”

“That’s not cheating,” Briryn laughed as he poured Dhurik a mug of beer. “That’s playing dirty.”

“Pretty much anything goes in there,” Ithan said. “Next time don’t let them kick dirt in your face.” Dhurik huffed and stomped a hoof on the ground. “Are you going to fix up that arm before we head out?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take care of it.” Dhurik took the mug and gulped down his drink, slamming the mug back down on the bar. “Another.” Briryn poured more beer into the mug and Dhurik drank it just as quickly as the first.

“Clean yourself up and I’ll give you another,” Briryn said. Dhurik tilted his head back in annoyance and dragged himself away from the bar and up the stairs. “And you,” he continued as he looked back at Ithan. “You doing okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Ithan replied.

“You sure?” the dragonkin asked. “You’ve been acting weird the past two days.” Ithan shook his head and smiled.

“I just have a lot going on,” he replied. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“Okay. Just make sure you come back in one piece.”

“Hey, Briryn? About the elf who gave you that wine. What was his name?”

“Again with the elf?” Briryn crossed his arms. “His name was Elyan, er… Let’s see now… I think it was… Aranis?” Ithan nearly leapt out of his seat. Another Aranis had been this far west before him, looking for the City of Living Trees. Had this Elyan already taken the artifact Kiraan was seeking?

“You don’t say,” he replied calmly despite his racing thoughts.

“Oh, you know him?” Briryn asked. Ithan shook his head. “That’s too bad. I think you two would have gotten along. You remind me of him.” Briryn took Dhurik’s mug and brought it with him into the kitchen.

“Mor’lavan,” Taer’inar called. Ithan shook himself from his daze and looked over toward the tavern entrance. Taer’inar was standing just inside, fully geared, with his owl resting on his shoulder. “It’s almost time to head out. Are you ready to get going?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right out,” Ithan replied. Taer’inar nodded and left the tavern as Dhurik appeared coming back down the stairs. He walked back over to the bar. “Sounds like we’re leaving soon.”

“One or three more drinks,” Dhurik muttered. Ithan sighed as he got up and walked out of the tavern. Storm, Bimpnottin, and Taer’inar waited at the fountain near Apostalite. From the direction of the arena, Unit 17 and Brollynn came into view walking toward the group. Brollynn was carrying a large bag in addition to her hammer.

“I won!” she shouted at Ithan, holding the bag up above her head.

“Congratulations,” Ithan replied as the dwarf drew nearer to the group. “What will you do with your winnings?”

“I think I’ll take them back home in a few weeks,” Brollynn replied. “I’m going to get as much gold as I can to bring back into the mountains.”

“So, you do live up there,” Taer’inar commented. “Do you know of a good path through them?”

“Nope!” she exclaimed. “There’s no good paths up there. Had to fight my way through to Rockfall and then took that trail here.” She smiled wide and brandished her hammer. “But if you guys find a nice path, me and my kin would be pretty interested to know about it!”

“We’ll keep you informed, then,” Taer’inar said. Brollynn gave a nod and walked past the group into the tavern. Dhurik appeared from it a moment after. “Got yourself nice and drunk?” Taer’inar asked the minotaur.

“I don’t get drunk easily,” Dhurik grunted. “Let’s go.”

“We are short one halfling,” Unit 17 interrupted. Ithan had forgotten that Ian would be accompanying the group. This’ll be a fun trip. He scanned the square and found the top of Ian’s head on the other side of the fountain.

“Hey, shortstack!” Ithan called. Ian peered over the fountain at Ithan, then ran over to the group.

“Don’t make me punish you again,” Ian said to Ithan.

“Get over yourself,” Ithan taunted. “You’re an annoyance and nothing more.”

“Hey, hey!” Taer’inar called. “We need to all try to get along here, or we won’t last long.”

“The elf is correct,” Unit 17 added. “Fighting amongst ourselves will only weaken the group. We must be united in order to succeed.”

“Fine,” Ian mumbled. He held out his hand. “Truce?”

“Truce,” Ithan replied, shaking Ian’s hand.

“Good,” Storm said. “Now let’s get going.” He began marching off toward the western gate, and everyone else followed suit. As they walked, Taer’inar caressed his owl, Dhurik sharpened his axe, and Ian and Bimpnottin took turns riding on Unit 17’s shoulders. Passing dragonkin watched this incredibly strange group walk through the town, and some of them smiled and waved as they encountered the people who had saved the Velthin family.

“Looks like we’re starting to earn some respect around here,” Dhurik said.

“Of course!” Bimpnottin yelled. “You are accompanied by the great Bimpnottin Bafflestone!” As the group continued through town and past the western gate, Ithan could not help but wonder what they might find in the mountains and beyond. Averion was mostly unexplored, yet Brollynn came from the mountains, and there was another city far to the west. Surely there were other civilizations out there that survived the “Gods’ War” Kiraan had talked about. Or, maybe they emerged from the aftermath. Will they all fall again when the next war comes?