Their ignored pleas were overheard by Floranue Balshav, the wife of Korrelothar Balshav. Although they had never met before, Floranue overheard their anxiety in speaking with the stewards regarding an audience with her husband. The elder elf woman knew much about Korrelothar’s trip to Kashmer a few years back, and was able to deduce the identities of the two before formal introductions were finally made. Floranue knew her husband seemed to have a soft spot for them, despite the fact they had stolen and lost his rare and priceless magical flying vessel. Korrelothar had always reasoned that the quest had been noble and had succeeded in avoiding a danger to the realms. When the aged elf woman overheard the urgency and insistence in their voices that they must see the mage again, she gladly escorted them past the sentries guarding the inner doors.
While Korrelothar worked among the leadership of the guild, Floranue stayed and worked in the kitchen. As she led Trestan and Katressa into the castle, giving them a tour of things wondrous and mundane, she carried a basket of fruits bought at a market. Floranue certainly had a few centuries of cooking behind her. For a race known for their grace and agility, Floranue was the stoutest elf Cat or Trestan had ever seen. Watching the hefty elf carry her basket one had to assume there was plenty of muscle under her surface as well. She had curly white hair that stopped before her shoulders, likely keeping it from dangling into her cooking. On her left ear the two companions noted the wedding earring, symbol of her spiritbond, which matched the one Korrelothar wore. She dressed plainly, unassuming of any grandeur, but wore good quality. As she walked, she talked to Trestan and Cat as if they were old friends. The elf smiled often as she told many stories about the building, and about how different things were from when she and Korrelothar first came to Orlaun a couple centuries ago.
The two companions marveled at the structure of the building as they laughed at their hostess’ stories. Even as they admired the golden chandeliers, marble statues, and intricately painted wall designs, Floranue made apologies about the luxuries. Their hostess waved a dismissive hand at some of the artwork, feeling somewhat embarrassed at what she felt was an overly garish décor. She mentioned that her husband led the guild more and more towards charitable causes, such as the plight of the poor in Highwater. Apparently, the initial lavishness of the Brotherhood of the Circles guild was to impress the nobility and city officials as the mages competed for favor against the Crystal Sun guild. Floranue noted with a disapproving frown that all it probably ever did was increase the city’s imposed levies on both magic schools.
They had gone up several flights of stairs by the time they came to a lone door at the end of a carpeted hall. A sign hanging on the door read: “Do not hassle or intrude! Arcane experiments of an important and delicate nature are being tested in a QUIET environment.”
Floranue snorted when she read it, “He always puts that sign up just for some peace and quiet; especially these days with all the excitement building up around here. Lots of important folks are still shuffling to be present for the event.”
Before Trestan or Cat could inquire as to the event in question, she leaned towards the door and rapped her knuckles on the aged wood. A stream of curses could be heard from the other side. The voice neither companion had heard in years protested from inside. “Confound intruders! Dare you risk the safety of these halls and your life ruining precious arcane studies? I could make you a subject for my next test!”
Floranue, unshaken, answered right back. “If it’s a test of patience, I’ll tell you right now that I’ve a lot less patience than you. If you don’t open this door and receive a couple of nice visitors, you will find your next apple pie will taste like a block of spice.”
“One moment my love! Allow me to get the room decent!”
At Korrelothar’s more complacent tone, the elf woman whispered to the couple, “Two hundred years in this city and he’s never cared much for the spices they put in the food here.”
After a minute or so listening to the sounds of rustling papers, drawers being opened and closed and hurried footsteps, the door began to open. Korrelothar stood in the doorway, unchanged in the last four years. He still dressed in the multi-layered clothing fashionable in Orlaun. His jewelry advertised the wealth he had accumulated in his tenure as a founding member of the mage guild. Long, blond hair cascaded down his back, streaked with some silver of age. A rough stubble of facial hair sat on his chin, a sign of an elf that had passed middle-age. He was not wearing his usual plush hat and feather nor his short cape. Both his staff and sword lay in the room behind, put aside for whatever business or laziness he had been involved in. He came to the door with a smile.
His eyes took in Katressa first, recognizing her easily since half-elves do not change much in four years either. Korrelothar did seem surprised to see her unanticipated arrival at his door. He bowed to her and called her by name.
“An unexpected pleasure this is, Lady Katressa. I am happy to have you visit my home, though I wish I’d known to make preparations for your arrival.”
As Korrelothar turned to regard Trestan, the eyes behind his smile had the flash of uncertainty. Was this the young man who had once defeated a towering minotaur by himself? Trestan had changed so much in the past few years. The thick mustache, the armor decorated to honor his goddess Abriana and the wisdom in his eyes made the mage wonder if this was indeed the same lad. Korrelothar saw the unmistakable elvish sword slung over his back. That fine magical sword could cut through objects that would block most ordinary steel edges. When Korrelothar noticed the blade, he glanced at the Taef’ Adorina upon Cat’s brow. The elf mage had helped Trestan craft that precious gift for his love, indulging a bit of elvish magic into the twisted gold shape.
The mage smiled at Trestan as he gave a slight bow, “Didn’t you used to work as a blacksmith?”
Trestan bowed in return, resplendent in his armor of leather, chain, and steel plate. This young man was now more of a warrior than a smith. “Squire Trestan Karok of Abriana, milord, and it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“I haven’t forgotten the name!” Korrelothar insisted. “Though you have changed much in the past years. I see a strong man before me in place of the brave lad I once knew.”
“You honor me sir.”
“Nay, your visit honors me,” the elf mage replied. “Please come in and relax your weary legs while I inquire as to what roads you have traveled since we last parted.”
Trestan and Cat made themselves at home in Korrelothar’s study, sipping tea while enjoying the comfort of soft chairs. Korrelothar took a seat at his study desk, while Floranue bustled about serving the tea and providing everyone’s comfort. It took some time for Trestan and Cat to get to the point of their visit; Korrelothar started off asking them a few questions unrelated to the relics. The couple took it as a good sign, for if anything had happened here already the elf mage would likely have mentioned it at the start. Korrelothar’s academic mind prompted him to ask about Trestan’s time at the seminary. The young man enlightened the mage on the training undergone to become a paladin of Abriana. The conversation mixed as he also asked Cat about her adventuring exploits during that time. Korrelothar did not ask about the personal relationship between them, for the body language between the two companions spoke volumes of their closeness. Trestan and Cat spoke of themselves almost as one entity at times, even leading off of each other during the conversation. The elf could hear the loneliness in their voices when they reflected on times they were separated, since Trestan’s time was occupied in the seminary. As the young paladin spoke, the mage’s gaze was often drawn to a ring adorning one finger.
“I recognized the coraross on your necklace, but I’m wondering about this other jewelry you display. That ring, it is a part of your schooling? I notice you glancing at it from time to time,” inquired Korrelothar.
Trestan held up the ring. A few symbols along the band interrupted the dull brown color. “This is Faithful’s Companion. Every acolyte that succeeds in the tests o
f the Embarking goes into the world with one of these rings. It is a guide that reminds us of our path and goals yet unfulfilled. Through trials on the road the symbols disappear and the ring will shine bright gold. When that moment dawns I must return to the seminary. I will be dubbed a paladin and given a new surname of my choosing.”
“Ahh,” the elf mused, “So you are in search of a quest or adventure to give you your final test?”
Trestan and Cat shared a meaningful glance. It was time to reveal the urgency behind their trip to Orlaun. The young paladin-aspirant looked into the mage’s eyes. “My quest was placed before me, on the steps of my home.”
Floranue gasped as they heard the story of the attack on Troutbrook: the brutality of the unwarranted assault, Hebden Karok’s close brush with death. Korrelothar became saddened by the news of the death of High Priest Gerlach, for he had become fond of the wise human. Revwar and Savannah were described, as Hebden Karok had seen them, as well as the other unknown individual traveling with them. Trestan relayed the appearance of a middle-aged human, dark hair peppered with gray, thin mustache and goatee beard, dressed in Orlaun fashions. Trestan hoped it would be someone recognizable, but to his dismay Korrelothar replied that the description too vaguely described many human mages accustomed to the styles and fashions of Orlaun.
The news of the loss of the relic stone, after Gerlach and he had placed so many wards upon it, alarmed the mage. As the two companions despaired over the loss of the item they had recovered, Korrelothar tried to reassure them the stones were not considered very powerful compared to some magical constructs in existence. It did little to dampen the companions’ fears. The two travelers had seen firsthand how the relic could crush stone structures and call otherworldly beings to its defense. The mage hid his concerns, since nothing was known of the stones’ origins. Korrelothar belittled the power of the relic to assuage their fears. He reminded them the only true power for which the village had used it for many years was blessing crops and warding away diseases of plants and animals.
It remained concealed in the elf mage’s thoughts that some individuals were going through a lot of trouble for the mysterious green relic stones.
* * * * *
“Nevertheless, we are worried and saddened that the stones we recovered are once again vulnerable,” Trestan said. “Troutbrook is again going to face troubles with crops and cattle due to the loss of their relic. We have nay idea what mischief is planned by those wishing to abuse the powers of the stones. You recall that when we found the relics the first time, Revwar’s band was on the verge of summoning some demon from another world? The relics you brought here are safely guarded?”
The elf mage tried to offer a reassuring grin, “I assure you they are well guarded. The relic that had originally been in our possession was stolen those years ago when it was merely part of a student research collection. Now that we know more about their danger, the two stones we brought back are kept warded and isolated. There are chambers we use for magical works of art that have very restricted access due to their nature.”
Floranue added, “You can be assured that if my husband says they are safe, then they are indeed so. I feel very secure in this castle, surrounded by such wizards of high power. It is hard to imagine the tragedy of the attack on your home. I do feel sorry for the losses you and your village suffered. It sounds horrific.”
“There is nothing that can be done to change the past, but the people will recover.” Cat mentioned as she looked over to Trestan. “I’m so proud of my faunlessa; he healed those that were still wounded and undertaking this quest seemed to ease the burden on those troubled minds. Heavy hearts were lifted enough to cheer him as we rode southwards.”
Trestan blushed, “I’m just trying to do what I can for my village.”
“The last time you tried to do what you could,” Korrelothar intervened, “You risked a wizard’s ire by stealing his flying chariot. Then, you defeated a minotaur about four times your weight, while wearing a breastplate that I recall had a big hole in it…”
Trestan interrupted, “Aye, aye. Unfortunately, this time we have nay clue as to where the other party went with the stolen relic. The best we could hope for was to get here and warn you, lest the other two be stolen as well.”
While Floranue collected the empty tea mugs and took them away, Korrelothar spoke. “Well, you are welcome to stay here in the guild. I can find rooms for you as special guests. As far as the relics are concerned, they are defended by wards and the most senior members of my guild. They never leave their sanctum.”
There was a moment of silence and quiet contemplations before the elf wizard corrected himself. “Well, except for the show that starts in a few days.”
Katressa leaned forward, “Show? What type of performance is it that causes nobility to hound your front lobby?”
The mage rolled his eyes, “Everyone wants to attend. Some are still scrambling to secure their spot. The exhibit will begin in a few days. The nature of it surpasses any spectacle in Orlaun history. We constantly battle a ‘war of favor’ against a rival mage guild, the Crystal Sun guild. We are offering a grand exhibit of magical devices and oddities, as well as hosting a number of musicians and performers in an extravagant show, on a stage like nay other. The stones are included, but are by nay means the main attraction. In fact, compared to the other displayed items they seem rather mundane. The competition between minstrels and performers was fierce to be able to get the privilege of entertaining such a prestigious gathering. For the nobility and rulers of the city, an invitation to partake is extremely coveted just for the stature perceived in attending.”
Korrelothar judged the reactions in the eyes of the two traveling companions. “You mean you haven’t heard of it?”
Trestan and Cat shrugged their shoulders. The paladin-aspirant answered, “We just arrived in Orlaun today after sailing from Barkan’s Crossing. We haven’t heard of any special show.”
Floranue and Korrelothar shared a knowing smile about some secret. The elf mage spoke, “Well, the most special thing about this show is that it is being held on an impressive stage…”
He paused for dramatic effect, “It will be aboard the Doranil Star, the last known surviving divine chariot that still retains the blessing of flight. Recall that I mentioned her when I spoke about Dovewing. Although my vessel was infused with arcana, the Doranil Star was built during the Godswars by holy men; the predecessors of today’s clerics. She is a vessel that gains her ability of flight through miracles granted by a deity. Though my guild houses the vessel in a sort of dry dock behind the castle, she really belongs to the church of Ganden. Without Ganden’s clerics at the helm, she could not fly. The divine vessels, including those who nay longer have the power of flight, are a disappearing breed. So many were lost in the Godswars in great aerial battles, and so many lost in the dark years of recovery. Even a craft based on arcana is an extremely hard undertaking to make. Dovewing was only about the size of a horse-drawn carriage, yet she took years of effort and research to build.”
Cat shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It had been her idea to steal Dovewing in order to pursue the lost relics the first time. During the course of that adventure, the vessel was destroyed in the midst of a stormy landing. The half-elf was embarrassed to ask, but she had to find out. “Would you ever build another one?”
Korrelothar eyed the woman rather sternly. “You know, my tired feet ask of me the same question everyday. My joints feel so old from walking and riding everywhere.”
“Oh, hush you!” Floranue admonished her husband. Her next words defused his bluster. “Don’t let him load you with any added guilt. You weren’t around when he spoke to me of the courageous deeds of you and your friends. He always speaks well of you and respects your daring to do what you did.”
“Bah! To answer your query though, I shall make nay more. It was a prideful challenge I undertook in younger years. I am satisfied by the simple fact of accomplishment in building one. I
don’t need to waste the time and resources to create another. My efforts these past years have shifted away from squandering my wealth on selfish decorations. I have begun to reach out more and more to those less gifted with coins.”
The elf mage silently mused on some thoughts for a minute before continuing. “A good example is one young man that will be performing for the exhibit. In my younger days I brought food and drink to those in Highwater, but I sought to also give them a means for a better life. Whenever I met someone with a gifted voice, or dexterous fingers, I would give them a musical instrument in the hopes of developing such talents. One such man, Lindon by name, sought me out and showed me the mastery of music he had attained since I gave him a bamboo flute during his youth. There is nay sense of achievement any magical vessel can give that outshines the ability to help a person in need to realize their dreams.”
Trestan and Cat smiled along with him as he spoke, for Korrelothar’s smile was infectious.
“But, I seem to be drifting off the original subject. The ship, though calling Doranil Star a simple ship seems an insult, will be part of a cruise offered by our guild. Three hundred people will be on board the vessel for most of a week. Part of the journey will be by sea, and the rest by air, for it was made to accommodate both modes of travel. It may seem like a large amount of people, and yet this was a small divine chariot by comparison to others that served in the Godswars.”
The elf mage rose up and waved them to follow. Trestan and Cat fell in stride behind him as he walked towards one of many glass windows. Glass windows were one of the many luxuries in the guild; however, the quality wasn’t good enough to be able to see through them. Once at the window, Korrelothar undid a latch that allowed the glass panel to swing open on hinges. Open air from the sea breeze blew through their hair.
The mage stepped to one side, gesturing with an open hand towards the view. “Describing it in words wouldn’t do it justice. Look for yourselves upon the last divine chariot, Doranil Star!”
The Earthrin Stones 2 of 3: Trials of Faith Page 19