It seemed that rumors had reached the elf’s ears about a noble’s kidnapping. For a moment the elf suspected them of being the kidnappers, but Cat talked quickly. The elf trusted her and relaxed visibly as she gave a brief and accurate account of their pursuit of the noble and the battle that followed. Korrelothar saw Lady Shauntay nod her agreement of the half-elf’s words, further assuring him that the noble was in no danger. Cat was just beginning to get to their urgency regarding Trestan when the noble made her own pleas.
Lady Shauntay interrupted Cat by presenting herself between the half-elf and the stranger. “I thank whatever gods led you to travel this way sir. I humbly ask if you could spare room for me in your…flying carriage. Please speed me home and I’m sure my father will reward you justly for your efforts.”
Petrow and Cat exchanged rueful looks behind the young noble. Neither could recall the noble expressing an interest in rewarding the companions for their bloody efforts. The elf acknowledged her but his attention focused on the young man who had been injured. “Nay reasons to worry, if I can lend a hand I will. Let’s first get a look at this man, shall we?”
The rest of the party closed upon the elf has he examined Trestan. They all watched every movement as Korrelothar Balshav felt around the injured man. They tensed when he began casting some sort of spell, but Mel put up a hand to assure there was no danger. The gnome knew the spell was of a divining nature and not any kind of threat. One of the elf’s hands lingered over the young man’s abdomen. Although blankets covered Trestan, the elf determined where the hurt was and concentrated on the area.
“He does have a serious wound here,” the elf spoke. “I sense infection at the site. He needs a proper healer in a hurry.”
Petrow’s concern was evident as he voiced his question, “Might you have any healing draughts or herbs that we could buy?
Korrelothar shook his head. “Nay. I was traveling to visit a friend. I did not expect problems and so I didn’t grab any to take with me.”
The companions stared helplessly between Trestan, the litter, and the magical craft. With no healing available they privately considered their options. The strange elf visitor stood and addressed Cat again, “Where are you headed?”
“Troutbrook. It’s a small village along the road from Barkan’s Crossing to Kashmer. We expect that it is still over a day west/northwest across this terrain.”
The stylishly dressed elf looked between the young noble and Trestan. He weighed the issue in his mind a moment before speaking. “I would be a hard soul indeed to turn away when I can give a hand. There is room enough for us all on Dovewing, and I’m flying that direction anyway. The friend I was meeting is up near the Kashmer area. I can speed you along your path quickly. A day of walking across this type of terrain is nothing compared to the distances I can cover when flying.”
Cat smiled, yet she looked at her horse uncertainly. “You all should go, but I won’t leave my horse out here. I’ll ride and catch up.”
“Nay worries, fair Katressa.” The elf approached her horse. “I can carry her, though in a different form. Do you have any of your valuables, anything you might require still on the horse?”
Cat shook her head. The party’s possessions were in bags and sacks around camp. The companions watched the elf magic-user fed something to Cat’s horse. He began speaking strange words. Cat’s horse became a mist, which was sucked into the elf’s hand. For a moment, the companions stood in awe as they wondered what happened to the animal. Korrelothar presented his open hand to Cat, as Mel also came forth to witness the magic. The horse had become a small, carved figure resting in the elf’s palm. It did not impress Salgor, who mumbled under his breath.
Korrelothar handed Cat the small carving which had moments ago been her horse. The half-elf held it gingerly in her hands, as the amazement was clear upon her face. The elf conjuror instructed her on what to say to call the horse back to its normal form, and assured her that it was safe and in a resting state until she called for it again.
“Now, let’s get all your equipment on board Dovewing and just hope that none of you are afraid of heights.”
* * * * *
She was made of old oaks, and lined with precious metals. Gold and silver gilded the railing. Gems of high quality formed the eyes of many flying beasts carved into the guardrail supports. These adorned sculptures were the pinnacle of her beauty: taking the form of pegasi, eagles, owls, wyverns and more. Dovewing was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, built for luxury as well as reliable service. If the details put into the design and artistic pieces were any indication of the magic involved, then the companions did not doubt that the vessel would perform its duty well for centuries if needed. There was a comfortable chair at the helm of the vessel. Korrelothar Balshav sat at this chair as he handled a few levers that controlled speed and direction. In front of him, the shape of a dove formed the figurehead. Benches ringed the inside of the side guardrails. The most ornate seating was a plush couch that took up much of the rear portion of the deck. Next to this couch were chests for holding valuables, and hatches on the floor of the deck hinted at more storage.
The magical vessel dominated the conversation as they took off from the campsite. The companions compiled their knowledge of divine chariots: mythic flying ships of old used in the Godswars. According to Korrelothar, those first ships were blessed by the gods and used by their champions to further their causes. They flew on faith, with a little help from people who eventually became the clerics of the modern day. During those times the gods walked among men more often, but after the cataclysms caused by those wars no deity blessed the creation of new ships. The heavenly powers exerted less direct influence on the world as races struggled to recover. The magical ships almost disappeared from existence. Several had been destroyed in great aerial battles during the Godswars, with the losing ship and crew sometimes falling out of the sky from thousands of feet up in the air. Other divine chariots fell into disrepair or were dismantled by scavengers in the dark years of survival. Some flying ships had been kept relatively intact, yet were no longer blessed with the power of flight. At least one was told to be stuck on dry land, with faithful followers erecting a church around it, calling it hallowed ground. A select few served as sea-going vessels after their power of flight had been lost. In fact, only one divine chariot was known to function with the power of flight in this part of the realms. In Orlaun, one such ship was tended by a magic-users’ guild.
The elf regaled them about that divine chariot as they flew, though the companions were all looking down to the distant ground with fright and wonder. “The only one that still flies as far as we know. She is the last of her kind, kept in good shape by the wizards in my order, as well as several clerics. I forgot to mention, I am a member of the Brotherhood of the Circles, one of the two prominent mage guilds in Orlaun. What makes Dovewing different from the original is that it was made using arcanum. Clerics of faith are required in order to fly the divine chariot, yet this vessel flies on magical power infused in the crystals underneath the deck. There aren’t too many magical vessels like this one, for they are very hard to make. We couldn’t begin to build another divine chariot without lots of help, and even then only if the gods blessed the endeavor.”
The companions looked over the artistry of the craft and didn’t doubt his words. On both sides of the vessel the railing swung out to allow people to board. Those swinging doors were exquisite carvings: one was a dragon and the other was a griffon. Each door would have fetched hundreds of gold at an auction just for the carvings and gems alone. The companions fawned over the numerous such statues, featuring flying creatures and decorated with gems, that supported the entire length of the guardrail. Overall, the vessel reflected beauty despite spots that reflected battle damage or inclement weather. Even the plush couch Trestan rested upon showed little wear from the years.
Mel fawned over every detail. “This is lovely. Everything about this speaks of strong magic and lots of craftsm
anship. It looks gnomish by nature.”
“It is indeed,” Korrelothar spoke, “I had a team of gnomes doing most of the woodwork and a good deal of the spellcasting required. There were other races helping as well, for it was a project that required a lot of resources. It was one of my largest endeavors ever.”
Mel’s head popped up, “You built this? How old is it?”
The elf grinned, “Well, I only supervised. Dovewing is close to one-hundred-and-thirty years old. She’s every bit as wonderful a creation now as she was back then.”
Petrow’s jaw dropped as he learned the age of the craft. Like his friend Katressa, it was hard to guess age when talking about elves and their creations. Cat didn’t spend much time adoring the vessel, for her hands were focused on helping Trestan keep cool. The young man barely opened his eyes during the time they carried him on board. His forehead was still covered in sweat. As Petrow looked over his other companions, he took notice of Salgor leaning over the railing.
“Are you alright there, Salgor?
The dwarf responded in a strained voice. He was bending over the rail and clutching it with white knuckles. “I’m very fine, thank you. Don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the view.”
Petrow caught something odd in the dwarf’s voice. The human shifted in his seat a bit to see more of Salgor’s face. With a giggle, the handyman asked, “Wouldn’t you see more of the view if you had your eyes open?”
Salgor turned back to face the human. There was a sneer on the dwarf’s face, as well as a slight tinge of green. “I hate magic, and I hate wizards. Umm, helpful ones excluded of course.”
Korrelothar smiled and nodded back at the dwarf. Salgor then returned to leaning over the railing and concentrating on keeping his breakfast down. Petrow hoped the dwarf wouldn’t lose control, as the designs ringing the guardrail were much too impressive to be spoiled in such a way.
Mel continued to look over the vessel, but the curious gnome also looked over their host thoroughly. The gnome noted many trinkets the elf wore that were probably magical. The short sorcerer pointed to an earring that Korrelothar wore. “Is that a magical trinket? I don’t think I have seen something like that before.”
The elf put a hand to one pointed ear, “Oh this? This isn’t magical. It’s a spiritbond to reflect my commitment to my loved one.”
Mel nodded, but furrowed his brow. Although he didn’t want to show it, he had no clue what a spiritbond was. Cat noticed his reaction and answered his unspoken question, “It is the elven form of marriage. It is a promise that binds one soul to another; although some elves believe that a couple’s souls are bound before they even meet. It’s all pre-ordained in their eyes, and wearing a token just signifies the link that already existed. Not all view it that way but it’s an old tradition.”
The gnome grinned. “Ah, now I understand then. The earring signifies the loyalty and spiritual link your mate.”
Korrelothar caressed the curves of the earring a bit as he spoke. “Aye. There are several forms that a spiritbond might take. She wanted us to choose an earring to signify the link.”
Mel had to ask, “Why an earring?”
The elf smiled and gave a humorous, though accurate response, “Because a female always wants to make sure she has her husband’s ear.”
Dovewing sped over the horizon. Ridges and trees went by at a much faster rate than even if they had been riding horses down a straight path. They streaked past birds, and scared more than a few animals below. Mel asked a few times if he could fly, but the elf politely refused. The gnome did watch as their host showed him how he controlled their flight. Korrelothar would turn and move the levers, and the craft would change directions and height as he did so. This was all very amusing to Mel, but it had Salgor clenching the guardrail and gritting his teeth. The gnome excitedly asked how to turn, how to climb, how to speed up…and the elf was more than happy to show him. Then the gnomish sorcerer saw the dwarf’s mounting discomfort and decided to repay a few remarks. After all, don’t dwarves like pranks as much as gnomes? When Mel asked Korrelothar how to dive, Salgor put on a look of alarm. Dovewing descended at a fast pace, coming close enough to a treetop that it clipped some leaves. They all heard a grunt from Salgor erupt into a rather undignified noise as the dwarf’s stomach emptied. The elf looked back with distaste at the mess dripping off the designs of the guardrail. Carvings that had seen many flights and many fights in a century of service were now in need of a good cleaning.
Salgor turned to face the elf and the gnome. A low rumble from his stomach was drowned out by a growl that escaped his lips. Various unsightly gobs spattered his fine beard. He patted the handle of his axe with one muscular arm. “Look, we have a sick man on board and a scared noble. Now you have an angry dwarf as well! You better fly this thing slow and steady or I’ll find a way to slow it down with my axe!”
The elf frowned but resumed a steady flight.
* * * * *
Lady Shauntay spoke sweetly to the elf as they flew onward. “I must thank you for helping me and my ‘escort’. I am indebted to you, good sir. My feet were very tired from my travels. I will be so very glad to get home and find some rest after this ordeal.”
Korrelothar replied as Petrow and Cat shared a scowl at being called escorts. “You are most welcome milady Shauntay. I’m glad I was there to offer a hand. I wish I could have been there sooner, though it sounds like the ruffians were given quite a beating by your friends.”
The noble sat on the bench up front where the elf was piloting. Lady Shauntay spoke again, though with a side-glance at the companions. Petrow idly wondered if she was again leaning forward to show a little too much cleavage, though her clothes and hair were still in dirty disarray. “Aye, it was well-timed, though I prefer not to talk about that.” The noble quickly changed the subject. “I am wondering, what business brought you up north? I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I am curious.”
The elf shrugged before responding, not giving the human woman or her cleavage any undue attention as he flew. “Nay worry, nothing personal at all about it. I seek a friend who might know more about an item that underwent some unexplained changes in our archives recently. I probably could have just sent him a message, but flying Dovewing is a rare enough treat.”
Lady Shauntay nodded and seemed ready to say more when Korrelothar continued. “It was nothing really: a green stone of unknown origins but with interesting magical properties. We knew it radiated certain strong magic in the past, and our young researchers often study unknown objects such as that. Recently there was some kind of change; it failed to show as much magic as it once had. In fact, it seems to have lost its magic except for a faint, false signature. I had a friend that did more work on it once, so it was a good excuse to get away and visit him.”
Petrow perked up at the mention of a green stone. “Could you describe the stone sir?” Lady Shauntay looked at him crossly, as if he interrupted a private conversation. The handyman persisted, “I would really like to know.”
“Well, like I mentioned it had a green shade to it, and was generally egg-shaped, though larger than an egg. There were some white markings on it.”
As the wizard described the stone, it bore a similarity to the holy relic displayed at the well in Troutbrook. Petrow and Lady Shauntay Tessald both listened with alarm at the likeness of the details. Korrelothar’s wizard guild knew little more about the stone than the church of Yestreal did. They knew it had magical properties, but had never been able to fully test it. Korrelothar admitted that it wasn’t a very remarkable item, except for the recent change in its magical signature.
Petrow finally exclaimed, “That sounds just like our village’s holy relic! That band that kidnapped Lady Shauntay had their hands on that stone before they took her.”
The elf pilot looked back at Petrow, “What do you mean they had their hands on it? What did they do with it?”
The young man shook his head, “We don’t know. They seemed to leave it behi
nd, but they had another one that looked just like it. The stone had long been kept by our church for more years than anyone knows. The clerics said it had been a gift from their god. It was displayed rather openly in the center of town. The band that kidnapped the lady here either stole it and replaced it with a duplicate, or they just used it for something.”
“Very odd,” Korrelothar mused, “I think it was a mistake that we didn’t take a better look at our own stone now. What did your church use it for?”
Lady Shauntay jumped in, “It didn’t seem to have much value, though the church knew it had magical properties. The head cleric told people that it somehow helped the crops and fields of the village. I didn’t regard it as much more than a decoration, except where village pride was concerned. I caught the other group doing something with it in the middle of the night, and tried to stop them. That’s when a fight erupted and I was kidnapped.”
One slender hand absently stroked the stubble on his chin as Korrelothar mused, “A very strange coincidence indeed. It seems I ran into the right people. I’ll have to have a look at your village stone when we get there.”
The elf looked over the horizon, and pointed at some haze from chimneys in the distance. “Which may not be long at all. Does that look like the place?”
This brought some shouts of surprise among the companions. They had camped a long day’s march from the village. It amazed them that this magical vessel could bear them so fast from the wilds to civilization. The members of the party looked eagerly at the village in the distance.
Petrow was squinting to make out details. “I don’t know. It might be…but…I’ve just never seen it from this angle before!”
The Earthrin Stones 1 of 3: Inheritance of a Sword and a Path Page 32