“I need to speak to the dowager,” said Kyran.
Lothar turned to him in surprise. “You just spoke to her,” he said. “She will not listen to any further pleas.”
“Regardless, I need to speak to her,” said Kyran, his voice curt.
Clearly about to deny Kyran’s request again, Lothar hesitated. He scrutinised Kyran, seeming to sense his sudden tension. “Why?”
“I cannot say. Not here. But it is important I speak to her again.” Kyran, himself, wasn’t certain what he intended. He had a momentous decision to make, one that could have far-reaching repercussions. He needed a better grasp of the situation in Eldervale first, though.
Lothar shook his head. “Whatever it is, it will have to wait. The dowager is old, and these audiences tax her strength. She will be indisposed for the rest of the day.”
Kyran ground his teeth in frustration. Damnit. But perhaps it was for the better. It would let him think through matters before acting hastily. “When, then?”
“It is that urgent?” Lothar asked with a raised eyebrow. Kyran nodded. “Tomorrow morning.”
“Alright,” Kyran agreed.
“Good,” said Lothar. “We still have a few hours left in the day. Let me show you the town.” He turned to the twins. “Gayla, I assume you and Gayen have other matters to attend to?”
“Yes, Grandfather,” she replied, not contesting the protector’s dismissal. She waved goodbye to the party and hurried out of the hall with her brother.
✽✽✽
Lothar led the party deeper through the settlement, pointing out many of the important structures and introducing them to the refuge’s notable citizens. Kyran was not the only one taken aback by the protector’s demeanour.
Many of the passing elves stared at the protector with mild surprise, but as Kyran’s gaze slid from Lothar to Mirien, he realised it was the whiesper that was responsible for the old warrior’s sudden burst of expressiveness. He is wooing her. Lothar was pitching Eldervale to Mirien, undoubtedly in a bid to convince her to stay.
Eldervale was much larger than Kyran had originally realised. It was by all appearance a full-fledged town and contained all the amenities necessary to meet its populous’ needs.
It stood to reason, he supposed, considering Eldervale’s isolated position. Studying the settlement’s residents more closely, he also realised they were not exclusively elves as he had first believed.
A small percentage were human, and here and there he spotted other more exotic races: a grimalkin racing up the rope bridge, a draconian pounding on an anvil, and two gnomes bent over their books while resting under a tree.
Lothar led them north, towards the market district. The protector stopped again, but this time it was not of his own devising. An irate citizen waylaid him and proceeded to berate the old warrior for some apparent misdeeds of his protectors.
Mirien took the opportunity to slip away from Lothar and walk up to Kyran. Grabbing his arm, she asked, “What was all of that about before?”
“What?” he asked, pretending ignorance.
Her eyes narrowed. “You know what. What do you have to speak so urgently to the dowager about?”
Kyran shook his head. “I can’t talk about it here. Later, somewhere… safer.”
“It’s about the settlement stone, isn’t it?” asked Mirien, staring at him intently.
Kyran refused to meet the whiesper’s eyes.
“What could you know about settlement stones?” wondered Mirien aloud. Her eyes widened suddenly. “It has something to do with how you opened Durn Duruhl’s gates, doesn’t it?”
Kyran scowled. Damn, she’s too smart by far. “Not here!” he hissed. “I will explain everything later.” Maybe.
Behind them, Kyran saw Adra and Gaesin exchange glances, no doubt recalling the dwarven city’s settlement stone and his evasiveness on the topic.
“I’ll hold you to it,” she said.
Lothar finally managed to escape from his conversation, and hurried them northwards again, this time at a much faster pace. Kyran grinned. The encounter with the unhappy citizen seemed to have sapped the protector’s enthusiasm for sightseeing.
Shortly, Lothar led the party into a large open clearing—the first of its kind Kyran had seen in the town. “Welcome to the Eldervale market,” said Lothar. “Here, you will find all the goods our little town has to offer. Where shall we begin?”
Kyran studied the market. Its entire expanse was filled with dozens of open carts and wood stalls, and around its edges, larger, more permanent shops lined the clearing’s perimeter. There were more people in the market than he had seen in the settlement so far.
The crowds meandered between the stalls and filled the air with a constant susurrus of sound. The market seemed to be the quietly beating heart of the town. “How many people live in the settlement?” he asked, only now thinking to ask.
“Five thousand people, the last time we bothered to count,” replied Lothar.
Five thousand people, thought Kyran, his heart sinking. Could he allow so many to fall prey to Misteria’s champion? Despite the dowager’s refusal of aid, Kyran knew he could not just walk away from the settlement and leave Eldervale to its fate. He would have to help.
But just how far am I willing to go to aid the town? He bit his lip unhappily. And how much am I willing to risk?
“Kyran?” said Adra again. He realised she had been calling his name for a while. “Where do you want to begin?” the wolven asked, gesturing towards the market.
He shoved aside his disquieting thoughts and glanced from the party to the market. “A bowyer,” he decided.
✽✽✽
The party—and Aiken especially—raised a stir the moment they entered the market. They had hardly taken more than a few steps before the jade bear was mobbed by excited and curious children.
They oohed and aahed around him, none showing the slightest fear despite the great bear’s immense size. The littlest ones even tried to clamber onto his back, tugging on his coat for purchase.
Aiken bore it with stoic patience. He lowered himself to the ground to make the children’s task easier, and opened his mouth wide to display his fearsome teeth to squeals of delight. Eventually, Kyran surrendered to the inevitable and left Aiken behind to his hordes of devoted fans. Gaesin, who surprisingly seemed most at ease with the kids, stayed behind to keep the bear company.
Eldervale had three bowyers, each with their own large and neatly furnished shop on the clearing’s edge. All three businesses appeared to be thriving and profitable, which wasn’t surprising considering the town’s location and main source of sustenance: hunting.
After entering the first bowyer’s shop, it was clear there would be little reason for the party to venture through all three stores. In the first shop alone there were hundreds of bows on display, of all sizes and shapes, from arbalests to great bows large enough for an ogre to wield.
“Lothar!” greeted an elderly elf, shuffling out from behind his counter. “Welcome to my shop.” The shopkeeper was hunched over and looked even older than the dowager.
“Hello, old friend, it’s been a long time,” replied Lothar.
The old elf chuckled. “Yes, it has, but I am surprised to find you here. Not that I am not pleased to see you, but you never had much use for my bows before.” The shopkeeper stopped short as his gaze finally alighted on the three accompanying Lothar. “Ah, you’ve brought guests.”
“I have,” said Lothar. “Shiyan, meet Mirien Tolyrandil, Kyran Seversan, and Adra Maeko.”
Shiyan’s eyes glinted as he studied the three. “The mysterious party that has been the talk of the town,” he murmured. He bowed in Mirien’s direction. “Welcome to my humble shop, Lady.” Then seeming to dismiss Lothar, Mirien, and Kyran from his mind, he shuffled forward and took Adra’s hands. “And you, my dear, must be my customer. Please come this way.”
Bemused, Kyran and the others watched as Adra allowed the old elf to pull her into a
cleared space in the centre of the shop. Positioning the wolven carefully, Shiyan shuffled all around her, while mumbling to himself.
“Please raise your hands, my dear,” he said. After Adra did as he asked, he made her stretch her hands forward, then measured both her handspan and height using an old tape. “Can I see your old bow, please?”
Adra handed him her grimal longbow. The old shopkeeper ran his hands along the grain and looked down its length, carefully inspecting every groove. Despite his great age, Shayin pulled back the bow with ease, testing its draw. “Not bad,” he muttered. “But you’ve outgrown it.”
Adra nodded in rueful agreement. “I have, but it has served me well over the years.”
Shayin patted Adra’s arm. “No doubt it has, and if you wish to trade it, I will be sure to find a new owner that will take good care of her.” The shopkeeper turned to Lothar. “Is price an issue?”
Lothar glanced at Kyran. “No,” he said firmly. “Show us the best you have.”
“Excellent,” said Shayin, beaming.
Only after the old shopkeeper turned away and began rifling through the bow racks did Kyran realise he had no idea how he was going to pay, or even if he had enough money. “Uh… what coinage do you use in Eldervale?” he asked Lothar in an urgent whisper.
Lothar gave him a lopsided smile, understanding his predicament. “We have little use for money here. The shopkeepers will only accept goods of equal value in trade. Do you have anything to trade?”
Kyran flicked his eyes inwards and rattled off the contents of his inventory to the protector. Lothar’s eyes glinted. “Hmm… you have more than enough of value, I believe. My advice is to offer the poison shrooms and scorpion venom to Shayin. They are of more value to him than your other items. The shrooms, especially, are used to create a very rare and powerful poison. The skins you should trade to the leatherworkers, and the scrolls to the mage guild. The gems and magical items will be accepted by any traders.”
Kyran nodded. “Thank you, Lothar.”
Meanwhile, Shayin had completed his selection of bows and laid out three on a table in front of Adra for her perusal. “These, my dear, are the best I have available for one of your class and level.”
The old shopkeeper had not asked Adra either her class or level, yet had somehow divined both. Stepping forward, Kyran cast insight on the three bows as Adra began to test the draw of each.
Found: Elven hunting shortbow.
Type: Enchanted weapon (shortbow). Rank: Uncommon.
Special properties: +20% damage to beasts.
Requirements: Level 20. Damage: 35-40 piercing damage.
Condition: Excellent.
Description: A bow made from yew. Crafted by the bowyer Shayin.
Found: Marksman’s ancient oak warbow.
Type: Enchanted weapon (longbow). Rank: Rare.
Special properties: +8% archery skill, +8% damage.
Requirements: Level 20. Damage: 38-40 piercing damage.
Condition: Excellent.
Description: A bow made from the bough of an ancient oak. Crafted by the bowyer Shayin.
Found: Bow of the spider.
Type: Enchanted weapon (longbow). Rank: Rare.
Special properties: Can cast webbed shot.
Requirements: Level 20, archery (apprentice). Damage: 35-40 piercing damage.
Condition: Excellent.
Description: A bow made from yew and enchanted by the bowyer Shayin.
Adra finished her inspection of the bows and ran her hand lovingly over all three. “They are all beautiful,” she murmured. Adra looked at Kyran. “The warbow?” she asked.
“A good choice,” he agreed. Turning to the shopkeeper, he asked, “How much for the marksman’s bow?”
“Show me what you have to trade, young man, then we can deal.”
Kyran retrieved the poison shrooms and scorpion venom that they had gathered months ago from the Labyrinth and laid them out on the table.
Shayin shuffled over and inspected both sets of items. “Ah, these are wonderfully preserved,” he said, sniffing the shrooms. “They will make a most potent paralysing agent.” He chuckled. “It’s been so long; I had forgotten the marvellous benefits of a player’s inventory.”
He glanced up at Kyran. “These are too much,” he said frankly. “But if you trade all the shrooms and venom, I will also throw in a quiver of paralysing arrows. What say you?”
Kyran glanced to Lothar. “It is a good trade,” the protector replied. “Each paralysing arrow will be worth its weight in gold.” Kyran looked at Adra. She nodded.
He turned back to the shopkeeper. “We have a deal, Shayin.”
Kyran has exchanged 30 poison shrooms and 5 vials of scorpion venom for 1 marksman’s ancient oak warbow and 1 quiver of paralysing arrows (24 arrows).
“Excellent!” said the old elf. “Return here tomorrow. I will have both the quiver and bow ready for you by then.”
The party waved goodbye to Shayin and left the shop. “Where to next?” asked Lothar.
“A leatherworker,” replied Kyran.
✽✽✽
Shopping for a set of leather armour for Adra went far less smoothly.
While there were at least four leatherworkers in the town, Kyran judged all their premade apprentice-ranked sets to be unsuitable, since they were only made from basic hides. Even though the town had a plethora of skins, they had been turned into higher-ranked armour than Adra could equip.
In the end, after hours spent going back and forth between the leatherworkers’ shops, Kyran decided to commission a custom set for the wolven. Trading all the worg and forest serpent hides in exchange, Kyran placed a rush order for a set of studded serpent-hide armour, which the grateful merchant promised to have completed by the next day.
Kyran has exchanged 55 worg skins and 11 serpent hides for 1 set of studded serpent-hide armour (+8% to stealth).
By the time they concluded the trade, night had begun to fall. Since the party was eager for rest, they all agreed to curtail further shopping until tomorrow.
On their way back to the protector’s barracks, Kyran broached a topic that had been puzzling him. “Lothar, I was surprised to see Saven on the council.”
“Why?” asked the protector.
“Uhm… because he was—is…”
“Human?” Mirien chimed in.
Kyran nodded, flushing slightly.
Lothar shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“It’s just that Eldervale is primarily elven, and I was surprised to see a non-elf on the council.”
“Saven is the town’s civilian representative,” said Lothar. “When Eldervale was founded, it was decided the ruling council would contain a delegate from each major faction—the mages, protectors, civilians, and rangers.”
“So Saven is the leader of the town’s civilian populous?” Kyran asked in surprise.
“The town’s mayor, in fact,” said Lothar, eyes narrowing as he studied Kyran’s face. “Ah, I realise the source of your confusion now. You are wondering how a human became a leader amongst elves?”
Kyran nodded, hoping Lothar did not think him prejudiced.
“For all that humans are short-lived, they are fast learners and are far quicker than most elves in adopting new knowledge,” said Lothar. “Saven is a talented administrator—the best in the town—really, and once he became a full guild member, the trade guilds were quick to elect him as their leader. But his relative youth does make him brash at times,” admitted Lothar. “For some time now, he has pushed the council to act more aggressively against intruders in the forest. I suspect that Gayen’s actions were somewhat influenced by Saven’s public utterances on the matter.”
As Kyran fell into a thoughtful silence, Lothar turned towards Mirien. “Milady, we must discuss your plans for the future.”
Mirien tilted her head to the side and studied the protector. “I’m not sure I understand your meaning, Lord Protector.”
“I have arranged a residence for you among the treetop cabins. It is not on the highest level, and of only modest size,” Lothar confessed. “It was the best I could manage on short notice, but I hope it will suffice. There are separate rooms for your personal quarters, office, and of course, chambers for your guards and attendants. I will assign—”
“Lothar,” said Mirien mildly, cutting off the protector midstream. When the old warrior turned to face her, she asked, “What are you talking about?”
Lothar looked at her with mild surprise. “Your accommodation, of course,” he said. “After the free agent leaves.”
Mirien’s brows drew down in an unhappy line. “You are mistaken,” she said. “I will not be staying. When Kyran leaves, so will I.”
“Impossible,” said Lothar harshly.
“Impossible?” asked Mirien, stopping short.
“You are a scion of the House Tolyrandil,” said Lothar, his own face hard and showing no hint of backing down. “You are far more important to us than some arbitrary player.” He glanced at Kyran. “No offense, free agent.”
Kyran shrugged, not wanting to get involved. “None taken.”
Lothar turned back to Mirien. “You cannot be allowed to go traipsing in his footsteps. It will undoubtedly endanger you further.”
“Cannot… be… allowed??” repeated Mirien, sounding out each word slowly.
Kyran winced. This was not going to be pleasant.
“Lothar,” she said, steel in her voice, “you seem to be under the mistaken impression that I am yours to command.”
“Of course not,” replied the protector, his brows crinkling. “Forgive me, Milady,” he continued, changing tack abruptly. “I meant no offense, only that your place is here with your people in Eldervale.”
“No.”
Lothar kept his face admirably blank in the face of Mirien’s denial. “You will be safer here. Granted, the protectors are no longer what we once were, but we are still up to task of ensuring your safety, I assure you.”
Sovereign (The Gods' Game, Volume IV) Page 35