The tavern door thundered aside. Wind blew in briefly as a towering Redguard stomped through, then another. The first one quickly surveyed the place, black eyes flicking over everyone and everything, and took up a position in the centre of the room. The second man stood by the door. In blew a small man. Only his slightly hooked nose was visible under the deep hood. Although he was short, he stood straight. Even with his features obscured, he had an air of great age, but his movements were quick. A third man, a rather plump Breton, entered close on the old man's heels and slammed shut the door against the wind.
Both Redguards wore orcish full plate from head to toe. Not one strap was out of place, and the green metal shone softly in the lamplight. The first man had no sword or blade of any kind, but a great axe on his back the likes of which none of the few patrons had ever seen, with its double head straight and wide at the top and slowly tapering toward the shaft. At its other end was a short spike. The axe was black. The second Redguard had a broadsword at his side, its keen blade naked and over-wide at its base. The Breton was more unassuming, with a blue and gold tunic over his ample girth and a narrow staff capped with silver at both ends.
The little man made a derisive snort and tugged back his hood. He shot a sharp glance at the Redguards.
"You don't have to be so protective! There is no safer spot in all of Tamriel with all these heroes here."
For the first time, the man looked about the tavern for himself. he frowned. Something wasn't right here. He furrowed his brow deeper. The lot in this place were anything but adventures, let alone heroes. Only one or two patrons had a weapon, and these were daggers, and judging by their make, seemed more suitable for spearing food than spearing men. A few of the patrons about the tables looked at the Redguards and Breton with fading interest. One moved to a table a safer distance from them.
The robed man couldn't keep confusion from his face. "Well, uh, they must be here somewhere..."
A vague expression of hope flickered across the lined features as he rapped the nearest drinker with a gnarled cane he produced from under his robe.
"You there."
The taverner looked up blankly.
"Have you seen, perchance, a great dark elf, Balefire I believe his name is? Or perhaps...oh, never mind." The taverner's blank look hadn't changed.
What hope tried to clamber over his face turned right around and let deep disappointment have a go. Disappointment easily scaled the hooked nose and soon had the face in a firm grip.
The old man faced the rest of the tavern. "Anyone? Right then. I have travelled more than a hundred leagues to get here, and by any god you'd care to mention, I'm going to get an answer!" His voice rose to a shout of incredible volume. "And if I don't get an answer soon, K'tarin here-" he indicated the Redguard with the strange axe "-will be happy to loosen some tongues! Has anyone's memory cleared yet?"
The Redguard gave a bemused look, then a smile slowly spread over his ruddy features. He reached back to loosen his great weapon.
A High Elf, sitting on a cedar stool at the mahogany bar, dressed entirely in Daedric Armour, quietly said "Ah would nay continue readyin' yer axe there lad". With that, the High Elf stood up and turned around. The normally youthful face that all elves enjoyed seemed to be lined and weathered. This High Elf stood a good half head taller than any Elf around. His forearms were as thick as most men's calves and his wrists were as thick as a large piece of mutton. His eyes were violet, and his piercing gaze stopped K'tarin in the middle of his action. "Ye see lad, if'n K'tarin is it? Ye see, if K'tarin continued bringin out thet nice axe, ah'd have te really get angry and take it from the pup. Ye should know better'n te bring any violence inte the Porcupine. Even the threat of violence, is enough te get me ire. Ah do nay like strangers comin' inte me tavern and makin threats against me customers. If'n ye think thet Elfiran's gotten old, then by all means try me. It'll take more then four of ye te get the better of me." Elfiran saw that his words were angering the Redguards. They seemed to see it as a personal affront that a High Elf was saying he could wipe the floor with them. They both looked at the smallish man for the word to strike. Elfiran, sensing that there was about to be bloodshed, and didn't really want to clean up his tavern, quickly flicked his fingers at the Redguards and the Breton, instantly paralysing them. "Now, laddie, pull up a chair", and with that, Elfiran poured another draft and sat down at the table. "First off laddie, whet's yer name? Then ye ken tell me the rest of it." Elfiran took a long drink from his ale while he looked at the stranger over the rim of the mug...........
The old man stood still for a moment, assessing the elf with diamond-bright eyes. He was a statue of a man, rigid and time-worn. Then he burst into a high laugh, however never taking his eyes from the elf. His laugh finished shortly, and he walked to the bar and pulled out a stool. He didn't sit just yet.
"K'tarin, sit with us."
The Redguard removed his hand from his axe and quietly seated himself at the nearest table. The two patrons siting across the table stared pop-eyed at the man. The Redguard seemed to take no notice of them. Now the small man took his stool. It was hard to detect, but he saw the flicker of surprise and curiosity pass over the high elf's face at the Redguard's movement.
"You must be Elfiran." It was a statement and a question all at once." Please excuse my rough manner, but I have travelled from beyond the great desert for near a month with little sleep or rest. I have grown...cranky."
The man glanced at K'tarin as if sharing a private joke, but the Redguard's face remained impassive, a work of sand-blasted stone. Though he did not have the physique of the high elf, his physical presence was no less. The small man jerked himself straighter yet, his eyebrows raised.
"Forgive me. I haven't introduce my party. This is K'tarin, as you know. These are T'salin and Shomshar, my escort." He indicated the Redguard and Breton respectively. "And my name is Alduin dor Lammoth."
Alduin's brow twitched once as he seemed for the first time to notice his escort's predicament. He turned back to his host and gave a cold smile. "Although K'tarin here doesn't know he's supposed to be paralysed, I'm sure the others would not be...ungrateful if they were released. Now that I am, I trust, in good company, I assure you they will behave."
Elfiran looked over the hapless Breton and Redguard for a moment before flicking his hand. The Breton unceremoniously stumbled into his companion, having been paralysed in mid step. The Redguard for his part remained still as if the spell had not been lifted. Only his eyes moved, and they flicked from Elfiran to Alduin. At a slight nod from the old man, both men seated themselves at an unoccupied table. Satisfied, Alduin continued.
"You may or may not have heard of me. I am the Master Scribe of the Pearl Tower, Kineschel unu Lammoth. I have heard there are great deeds afoot. I have come to record them. I was hoping to meet Balefire, but meeting you is far better. I've heard you are at the centre of it all. Is this true?
"At any rate, I wish to accompany you on this adventure. Falalla, the Master Scribe before me, thinks this a fool's errand, but he never had vision. Always relied on hearsay and digging about in books. This is fine for compiling chronicles, but not tales. One has to be there! Do not refuse me. I'm an old man, and have travelled too far to turn back now."
Alduin matched Elfiran's gaze for a long moment, then turned to the barkeep. "You do serve Aldabaran Dark, I trust? Good. Fill me a pint."
Elfiran drained the last drop from his tankard, and set it down on the well-polished table imported from the other side of the Dragontail Mountains.
"Well, Alduin, thet do be a worthy quest, but ah'm jest a simple tavern owner. Seems te me thet it would be very dull hangin' around me tryin' teget a story."
At this, Elfiran raised his hand and the barkeep quickly filled his tankard, then set the pitcher on the table, before retreating back to the bar.
"Now several of me friends, thet's a different story. Take fer instance Lord Stinger, or even Prince Flitzanu. Then there's Rhiannon, who is co-owner of this tavern. Oh yes, and The Evil Temptress. Of course you already mentioned Balefire. And ah heard thet Mea Culpa is travellin' withim as well as Tabanallis. Then there's the story of me ill-fated cousin Andel Crodo. Lessee, ye could write about Lyvim Xaphir also. And of course there's Harrgin. And ye could nay ferget about Lady Shi'Nayne." He then rests back in his chair, props his boots up on the table and continues....
"All these people te write about, and ye want te travel wit me? Like ah said afore, ah'm jest a simple tavern owner tryin te eke out a life on me own."
Elfiran looked at Alduin's travelling companions and smiled the smile of a man who was comfortable with himself and his abilities. He then turned and stared at Alduin, "Besides, ah jest returned from a, let us say, excursion against the Dark Brotherhood. So travellin' wit me is nay the safest way te travel lately, and no offence, but yer 'companions' do nay look like they can handle themselves against a couple dozen assassins." He then sat backup, and finished his tankard. He set it down with a solid thunk, before leaning back again in his chair to relax.
Just before he totally relaxed into an oblivion of light sleep, he could sense Alduin about to speak again, so he snapped his eyes open and stared directly at Alduin.........
The door of The Angry Porcupine swung open, admitting raven-locked Twilight, then Mea Culpa, Tabanallis, J'layah, and finally Balefire. The Dark Elf Warmage's usually grim features lit up with a rare grin as he spied Elfiran taking his ease at the bar, talking with a small group of weary-looking travellers.
"Ho, Elfiran! Well met in the Porcupine!" he bellowed, rushing forward to offer his hand in greeting, " 'Tis glad indeed I am to see you! We have been scouring the wilderness hereabouts, thinning the ranks of the Dark Brotherhood. Two bands we have despatched, a dozen or so of the skulkers, but now it seems we have had another quest thrust upon us. Hark ye, Elfiran, 'tis a damsel in distress, as in some bard's tale, and best of all, another chance to tweak the noses of the Brotherhood!"
Raising his staff, he muttered a cantrip, and a fat purse clanked into existence on the bar. "With your permission, Elfiran? A bit of ale before we visit the Mages' Guild to use their teleporter? We have little time, but enough, surely, for a spot of ale and mayhap a bottle or two of wine before we must be gone."
Elfiran smiled and waved a hand in permission. Grin widening in thanks, Balefire gestured again, and a dew-beaded cask of ale appeared on the bar, joined a heartbeat later by two bottles of wine.
"Join me in a drink, good Elfiran, and bring us up to date on what you have been up to." Gesturing to his companions, he said, "Twilight I believe you already know. Allow me to introduce Mea Culpa and J'layah. Tabanallis here is a puissant warrior; perhaps you already know him, or at least of him. J'layah...ah...dropped in on our camp and needs a bit of help. Well, her sister does, in any case. But first. let us soothe our parched throats, ere we leave for Aldingbury." So saying, the big Warmage busied himself with drawing ale and pouring wine.
"And who", he asked, "might these friends of yours be? They have the look of hard journeying upon them."
He stopped to toss off a tankard of ale and refill it. Taking another long swallow, he looked expectantly at Elfiran as Twilight and the others in his party took their drinks and settled themselves at a nearby table.
"Phew" I thought that was quite a ride, but I'm glad to say we're finally back again at The Porc.
"Be right there" I yelled to the retreating figures of my companions, "Gotta look after my horse first", I finished lamely. While the rest of the guys & girls went towards the door of the Tav, I decided to stable the horses and check out one of my horde's hoofs since he had picked up a slight bother of sorts, after removing the tiny stone that was wedged in the horse's hoof, I figured I might just as well brush them down and settle them in properly ( the horses that is). During this time I ended up searching for the stable boy, meaning to ask him where the fodder was kept, but alas no stable boy was to be found. Now, I don't know about you but a stable without a stable boy is like....... well waybread without water. it doesn't sit very well if you get my drift.
At this very moment I noticed a shadow in the peripheral of my sight, "Sacre Noir" my trusty blade started to hum, and it only does that when there is evil nearby ( which apropos, convinced me that J'layah was not very evil) and promptly appeared in my hand ( yeah, I know it's like ..magic you know) I twirled around into a knee bend and was just missed by a crossbow bolt, the infernal thing nearly sang in my ear, so close was that shot, the thing with crossbow's is however, they take a while to load, so I backtracked the flight path and sure enough I could see the floppy rim of a black hat, that those Brotherhood fiends are so renown for wearing. Luckily I had a jump spell handy (lets face you can't say: luckily I had a jump spell footy) and I let go of that spell which put me right behind the critter, I then proceeded to give him a close shave, shucks I'm sorry I'm a girl and not very good at shaving so I accidentally nicked him under the chin a bit, okay, okay a lot of bits. Oh well, to make a tall story short, I eventually found the fodder, fed the horses and grabbed the head of the now very dead (at least I hope so) Dark Brother and proceeded back to the Tavern.
Throwing open the door, I stood there for a moment, then caught Balefire's eye, and said " Hum sorry to interrupt but I have another item for our collection, found this one in hiding upstairs in the stable" holding the awful bloody thing by the hair, I chucked it in the corner and walked towards my friends, having in mind to get a drink and put my feet up, "Honestly" I said," this is to much for a sweet innocent girl like me" and sat down with a glass of wine and a wicked smile on my face, waiting for whatever reaction came from my action.
***
Just before he totally relaxed into an oblivion of light sleep, he could sense Alduin about to speak again, so he snapped his eyes open and stared directly at Alduin.........***Alduin wasn't looking at him. He was frowning deeply at his drink.
"Aldabaran Dark tastes a bit different here." He shot a look at his host." Mind you, it isn't bad, but it lacks a certain nutty flavour." He paused to take another appraising swig. "It's almost sweet."
Now he met Elfiran's stare. "And just as this is not yer average rum, you are not yer average tavern owner. Do not patronise me. My eyes are not dim, and neither is my mind."
The little man flicked a careless glance over the high elf.
"Call me foolhardy, but I've been in the roughest bars and inns from the Imperial City to the bleak land of Morrowind, and I've never seen a barkeep, let alone the owner wear Daedric plate. I don't know. Maybe I haven't been out enough, but you don't strike me as a man who is trying to eke out an existence here at the Angry Porcupine. Not to press my point home too hard, but if the Dark Brotherhood is after you and you're still alive, there's a tale or two to write about you.
"You mention names and you call them friends. That alone, if nothing else, points to an interesting life. Do you still want to call yourself a meagre tavern owner?"
The high elf's face had darkened considerably. Alduin felt his anger at being spoken to with such disrespect, but he had had it coming, belittling his escort. K'tarin was a fine warrior, not only because he was immune to magic, but because his heart was as strong as his axe arm. Alduin didn't know much about the other two, but K'tarin had vouched for them, and that was good enough for the scribe.
Elfiran's face was stern. He was about to speak when the tavern door swung aside. The elf glanced in its direction and his face completely changed. Alduin turned to the door as well, and beheld a band of hardy men and women stride in. He recognised the first one, Twilight. The others he did not know by face, but was sure he would recognise their names. The last to enter was Balefire, and imposing dark elf, a great staff in hand. Although he had never seen Balefire, Alduin knew immediately who he was. While the troupe found tables around which to put up their feet, Balefire walked straight to Elfiran ,a wide grin on his dark face. Although Alduin had seen many wonders and spoken with men of importance, he felt invisible now; just another patron passing through the Porcupine. He noticed, however, that K'tarin had moved from his seat and was now taking up station on the barstool just behind the old man.
The elves exchanged greetings, and the Warmage cast an impressive little cantrip, producing wine and ale.
"Join me in a drink, good Elfiran, and bring us up to date on what you have been up to."
Balefire introduced his companions, gesturing to each in turn. Although he was drinking from his mug of rum, Alduin listened carefully to each name and glanced at each face over his mug.
"And who", Balefire continued, "might these friends of yours be? They have the look of hard journeying upon them."
Alduin couldn't help but notice the Warmage had not addressed him directly. The scribe decided to let it pass, and he continued to work at his Aldabaran Dark. Although it wasn't as rich as what he had at home, it made up for this lack with its undercurrent of honey. He had been trying to decide what it was. Now he was sure it was honey that made the rum sweet.
He would let Elfiran answer the question.
Elfiran took his boots off of the table and sat up. "Aye Balefire, they do seem te 'ave travelled quite a distance te get 'ere. This do be master Alduin, and these are his travelling companions. The one sittin' on me barstool goes by the name of K'tarin, and it seems ah'v 'eard thet name somewhere before. The other two, ah 'ave no idea whet name they go by, but ah'm sure we'll find thet out later. We'll join ye in a spell, Balefire."
Balefire nodded in agreement, and went back over to his table while producing refreshments out of thin air. Elfiran chuckled, then turned back to Alduin. "It seems fortune is smiling on all of us today Alduin. You, on one hand, want te scribe great deeds. Us", Elfiran gestures at Balefire's table and himself, "are destined to perform great deeds. Just afore ye entered me tavern, ah heard rumblin's from some friends of mine about a possible quest, worthy of me time. Mayhaps Balefire knows sometin' about it." Elfiran stood up and gestured Alduin and his party to follow him as he walks over to Balefire's table.
"Balefire, ah see ye travel as usual, with beautiful, but obviously deadly companions, you excluded Tab". Elfiran snickers as Tabanallis frowns. "It seems we shall be travelling together for awhile Balefire. Ah'v heard of a quest of sorts in the works, and ah'm itchin te get back out there and 'exercise' me body. Master Alduin, it seems is a scribe of the highest order and wishes to accompany us to record our deeds. If ye kin wait till the morrow, then we ken all get a good nights rest afore our journey. Of course, with full refreshments provided by the Porcupine tonight and tomorrow. This will let us catch up on old times Balefire."
With that, Elfiran chuckles, then produces his own refreshments with a flourish. He then, mumbles a mantra, wiggles his hands a bit, and immediately all the ale, and white wine are chilled. "Ah tried some of this chilled ale, whilst ah wuz travellin over the Dragontails. It seems te be quite a bit better then the swill most of the taverns serve." Elfiran plops down next to Balefire, puts his boots on the table, and asks Balefire, "So whet do ye say? On the morrow then?".....
Twilight rapped softly on the door. "Come J'layah, it is time." The muffled groan from within brought a smile to her lips. This young pup had much to learn - least of all the art of carousing (and dealing with the inevitable hangover the following morning). "I shall await you downstairs."
J'layah waited for the pounding in her skull to abate before standing up. She stumbled over to her clothing and armour and began dressing - a difficult task given her current condition. She splashed a little water from the pitcher over her head, hoping to clear it a little, rinsed her mouth out in a vain effort get rid of the foul taste, then cast a quick glance over the room to ensure she hadn't left anything behind.
She hobbled downstairs (gods, even her *feet* hurt!), trying to recall whether she'd made a fool of herself last night. Mercifully, any memories of the previous evening eluded her, and she found the others breaking their fast in the common room. Balefire was eating with great gusto, and he roared a boisterous welcome. "Ho J'layah! Come join us in this fine repast!" He gestured at the table, groaning under the weight of freshly baked breads and pastries, cheeses, fruit and a variety of steaming beverages. Her stomach turned at the thought of food, and the colour drained from her face. "Uh, no thank you. I am feeling somewhat 'fragile' today." How did he *do* it? Last night, she had seen him down enough ale to fell an ox, and here he was the following morning -shovelling food down his maw as though he hadn't eaten for a week!
She sat next to Mea, who was nibbling daintily on a piece of honey-smothered bread. She still found it difficult to believe a woman of her beauty and grace could be such a ruthless, efficient killer. Mea paused mid-bite and leaned over to whisper - not unkindly, "your boots are on the wrong feet" before resuming her meal. J'layah groaned inwardly and tried to remove them without seeming too obvious. This was not a good omen. Here she sat, about to embark on a dangerous quest -one which required her to be in possession of all her faculties, and she couldn't even dress for the occasion! A rosy blush crept up her cheeks and in an attempt to hide her embarrassment from the others she looked down, pretending to examine Balefire's ring where it hung from a leather thong around her neck, glowing softly. It was beginning to feel very, very heavy.
When she felt her cheeks cool sufficiently she looked up at her companions, her gaze carefully avoiding the platters of food on the table. "Does anyone know of a good cure for er......overindulgence of the alcoholic variety?" Tabanallis, sitting opposite her, bit into a pastry and its custard filling shot across the table, landing on her plate with a sickening "squelch". J'layah's skin took on a greenish cast. "Preferably a fast-acting cure!"
I watched poor J'layah walk down the stairs, hum crawl is probably a better word, somewhere inside me a voice said" oh poor thing, doesn't she look awful" I wasn't sure of the exact meaning of my little voice, it seemed slightly sarcastic, but I've grown used to hearing that voice, so as usual I ignored it and watched the tragic/comedy unfold.
Dear Julianos, I thought she's got her shoes on wrong, at which point her face turned a whiter shade of err...green, I leaned over to Balefire and whispered in his ear, asking if it was all right to cast a healing dweomer on her.
I have found it wise to check with Balefire about casting spells, cause that staff of his tends to have a mind of its own.
After Balefire gave me a good humoured nod (he seems to be enjoying this little spectacle, I thought) I concentrated a little, put my hand on J'layah's forehead, till I saw her natural colour coming through, Goodness I thought she is quite good looking when she gets cleaned up.
At this moment a splat of custard appeared on J'layah's plate, and for a moment there I thought that I was going to loose my spell but I persevered until she was at least able to pick at some bread and cheese, "eat my dear," I said you are going to need all the strength and courage that you've got in the next week or so, while simultaneously giving Tabanallis a glaring stare, as if to say, "you lout can't you be a little more cultured."
Instead I said to J'layah, "Feeling any better now, dear?"
Twilight caught my eye and winked , which I took to mean well done, at least there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes, so I nodded at her and finished breaking my fast, mentally going through the various things I had in my back pack and what new supplies I needed.
***I watched poor J'layah walk down the stairs, hum crawl is probably a better word, somewhere inside me a voice said" oh poor thing, doesn't she look awful" I wasn't sure of the exact meaning of my little voice, it seemed slightly sarcastic, but I've grown used to hearing that voice, so as usual I ignored it and watched the tragic/comedy unfold. Dear Julianos, I thought she's got her shoes on wrong, at which point her face turned a whiter shade of err...green, I leaned over to Balefire and whispered in his ear, asking if it was all right to cast a healing dweomer on her. I have found it wise to check with Balefire about casting spells, cause that staff of his tends to have a mind of its own.***
Balefire chuckled inwardly, noting approvingly that Mea was exercising due caution. The Staff of the Dawn had no less than three ancient vampires imprisoned in it, not to mention divers other enchantments both fair and fell. Having been fashioned from the wood of an oak in an entirely different plane, and said oak having been used since ancient times as an object of worship by a mysterious order of animist priest-mages, the staff was semi-sentient. Indeed, the Warmage sometimes wondered if it might not be wholly sentient and just keeping its own counsel. Given that its entire surface was carved with runes of power, and that it had been used in countless battles and spell-weavings, it really was not surprising that it sometimes seemed to have a definite mind of its own.
With the natural bloodthirstiness with which its unwilling inhabitants imbued it, small wonder that it sometimes appeared to resent healing spells used nearby. The staff was carefully controlled by its owner, however, as now when Balefire sent a warning trickle of magicka into it.
***After Balefire gave me a good humoured nod (he seems to be enjoying this little spectacle, I thought) I concentrated a little, put my hand on J'layah's forehead, till I saw her natural colour coming through, Goodness I thought she is quite good looking when she gets cleaned up. At this moment a splat of custard appeared on J'layah's plate, and for a moment there I thought that I was going to loose my spell but I persevered until she was at least able to pick at some bread and cheese, "eat my dear" I said you are going to need all the strength and courage that you've got in the next week or so, while simultaneously giving Tabanallis a glaring stare, as if to say "you lout can't you be a little more cultured" Instead I said to J'layah, "Feeling any better now, dear" Twilight caught my eye and winked , which I took to mean well done, at least there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes, so I nodded at her and finished breaking my fast, mentally going through the various things I had in my back pack and what new supplies I needed.***
"Perhaps," thought Balefire to himself, "when this quest is over, I can give J'layah a little instruction in a good anti-hangover cantrip. She certainly seems in need of one. Mea, on the other hand, appears to very proficient indeed in the healing areas of the Art. She might be persuaded to give *me* lessons. Perhaps she would be willing to trade for a bit more sparring practice." Pleased at the prospect, he returned to his breakfast and his ale.