Fatespinner: Of Greetings

Author's Note: Introduction of the other characters in the plot. I enjoyed the intro, but it struggled near the end.

Of Greetings

“Always knock first.”
--Rule #1, Silver Spire Mage Academy Initiate's Primer

         Fairdale sat squarely on the only east-west trade route between the two kingdoms. Usually this means great things for the local economy, except that in this case little to no trading took place. While not at war with one another per se, tensions ran high enough between the two regions for the past few years that few were willing to risk the dangers of such a journey, even if it could have proved particularly profitable. After all, the knights of Imgard would likely not investigate an attack on a caravan from Am’Duroth, and vice versa.

         As a result, Fairdale remained small, quiet, and relatively simple, much as it always had.

         Few people were moving around this particular afternoon; harvest season was upon them, and yesterday’s festival had taken precious time away from the farmers. Not enough to warrant missing it, of course. The harvest festival was one of the most looked-forward-to events of the year. Considering the normal slow pace of life, it didn’t take much to excite the locals. A good thing, too, because by most standards even this festival wasn’t much.

         Some of those not hard at work in the fields today were busy shaking off hangovers in the town tavern. The pride of the town, it boasted such luxuries as…well, there really weren’t that many. It was the only building in Fairdale to have any elven-made furniture, for one, but those were in the fancy room that nobody traveling this far from civilization was willing to pay for. What they were willing to part with their gold for was ale, and the tavern did have a surprisingly large selection for its location; a grand total of three separate kinds graced its bar. One was a local brew—not because it was made there, but because that was what the locals drank. The other two came from obscure locations from across the continent and tasted suspiciously the same as the local brew. Of course, the local brew wasn’t offered to non-locals.

         All in all, the Dancing Badger Inn did fairly well financially, all things considered. The long stretch of road still carried a good number of travelers, for whatever reason, and after so many days in the wilderness, all were more than willing to stay a day or two in the town and enjoy a bed for once. The cooking probably had something to do with it too—the innkeeper’s wife was the self-proclaimed best cook for a hundred leagues. Not when the other women in the town were around, of course. No need to confuse weary travelers with a debate about the subject.

         Some of those busy shaking off hangovers were doing it with the help of a drink. Two such customers sat at the bar, one human, the other a half-orc. The two seemed to be in competition in nearly everything recently; first in the drinking contest that had started spontaneously last night, then in the arm wrestling match, then in comparing the size of their weapons. The human’s sword spanned near six feet long, a fearsome blade; however, the head of the axe carried by the orc weighed fifteen pounds, and he looked like he had used it once or twice before. Now, they seemed to be competing on which could make one drink last the longest.

         The other patrons in the tavern at this hour made it a point to give both of them space. No point in asking for trouble. Both seemed absorbed in their own affairs anyways. The gnome was playing with his pet, which was, ironically enough, a badger. Though the innkeeper usually didn’t allow pets on the tables, he made an exception this one time considering the circumstances. The other, another human, sat absorbed in his reading. He too had a drink to keep him company, but had he been in the contest with the two at the bar he undoubtedly would have won. He hadn’t even touched his yet.

         A knock on the door and a sudden rectangle of light announced the entrance of another customer to the inn—or, in this case, two customers. One short and the other shorter, Thade Harrick couldn’t make out either until the door closed again. He was the only one interested, apparently. The innkeeper was in the back.

         The first was an unusual-looking lady. Not in a bad way, by any means, just that it wasn’t every day that you saw somebody with silver hair. Or amber eyes. Or pointed ears. Thade was surprised to see an elf in town. She must have just arrived recently; her folk traveled so seldom out of their woods that one appearing in Fairdale was a big event for the town. She seemed to be sizing up the room’s occupants, eyeing him and his greatsword briefly before doing the same to the others. The other clung to her cloak nervously, looking around at the others too—but more from apprehension than anything else, it appeared. Strange to find a halfling here, especially with an elf…and even more especially one so well-dressed. Thade wondered idly what a halfling-sized tailor charged for clothes that fancy.

         Thade congratulated himself on still having it—she walked straight up to him, halfling in tow. He turned away from the bar and gave her a small smile, which she seemed to ignore. Stopping a few feet away, she tilted her head just a little and said, “You’re going to help us.”

         Caught off-guard, the only thing he could think to say was, “What?”

         “Thanks!” She moved on, leaving him off-balance. Help with what? The halfling had left her and was peering up at him. “You really will?” he hopefully inquired.

         Thade stood a little straighter, the better to get answers out of someone quite literally half his size. “Help with what?” He saw she had moved on to the half-orc and seemed to be giving him the same line.

         “Getting my ruby back.”

         Thade’s ears perked up as he sensed the potential for profit. He could see it now. “Wealthy midget merchant wants help retrieving prize gem. Substantial reward available.”

         “Sure, I’ll do it. Back from what?”
         “The wizard I sold it to.”

         Now the gnome seemed to be getting the party line from her. The half-orc didn’t seem too disturbed by the lack of info, but then again Thade hadn’t thought he was too bright anyways. Then what the halfling had just said registered. “Wait…get it back from the wizard you sold it to?”

         “Yeah, I need it before the bounty hunters get to me!”

         “The…bounty hunters?”

         “The ones after me that say I stole it from the noble. I didn’t, though! He gave it to me!”

         Thade saw that the gnome was now scratching his head in the way of one confused, and that she had moved on to the last occupant of the tavern, presumably for the same reason.

         “A noble just happened to give you a ruby that you sold and now need back?”

         “Well, he kind of dropped it, really. If it’s on the ground it’s fair game, right?”

         “So just tell the bounty hunters that. Why did you sell it?”

         “To buy these clothes! I couldn’t pass them up!”

         Oh, great. He wasn’t even wealthy, he had bought the fancy clothes by hawking a ruby he had swiped. Just great.

         The last guy didn’t seem to be putting up too much of a fuss about her cryptic statement; in fact, he looked a little in awe. Thade guessed he hadn’t seen an elf before. Probably believed a few of the stories a little too much as well, he wagered. She came back to rejoin his little party with the halfing.

         “Um…what does this job pay?”

         The little guy shrugged. “I don’t have much…”

         He turned to her. “And how’s she involved?”

         “She was the first one to agree to help me.”

         “So let me get this straight,” Thade began. “You agreed to help him steal back a ruby he sold to a wizard to buy clothes—that he needs now to give to bounty hunters so they won’t kill him for stealing it from a nobleman in the first place—for free?”

         She nodded.

         A tug on his sleeve accompanied the halfling’s next remark. “You did too!”

         “What?”

         “You agreed to help me. You said you would.”

         Thade rolled his eyes. “Now wait just a minute…”

         The elf broke in. “A man’s word is his bond, is it not?”

         He always was a sucker for a pretty face…and it’s not like he had anything better going on. Maybe this wizard had more than just a ruby on him. “Oh, fine, I’ll do it. Serves me right for not working out payment beforehand. Nothing else happening in this town anyways.” He held out a hand to her. “Thade Harrick.”

         “Thanks!” The halfling jumped up and took it. “My name’s Kiro!”

         “Told you,” she said.

         Off-balance again, he resorted to his standard question. “What?”

         “I told you that you were going to help us.”

         He shook his head. This could turn out to be more difficult than he had thought.

         The half-orc clomped over to their little gathering. “When we leave?” he grunted.

         Kiro took that one. “Well…it’s getting dark outside…in the morning?”

         Apparently the orc was just as stupid as he looked, because he actually had to look around in confusion for a moment before realizing that the sound had come from below him. Once he did, he raised his eyebrows and gave a broken smile. “Have halfling for dinner, then?”

         Kiro let out a little yelp and retreated behind the rest of them. Thade decided to step in before the hulk got any more ideas on the subject. “I’m Thade. Who’re you?”

         “Brokkem smart enough not to tell strangers his name.”

         It was confirmed. He was as stupid as he looked.

         “Thanks for helping us, Brokkem. We’ll leave at first light,” the elf spoke up.

         He got wide-eyed for a second. “How you know Brokkem’s name without Brokkem telling it to you?”

         Thade sighed. That was confirmed too. It was going to be more difficult than he had thought.

         She shrugged.

         Come to think of it, he still hadn’t learned her name. About to inquire on the subject, he was stopped once more by the approach of yet another reluctant helper.

         “Why are we agreeing to help him at all in the first place, again? If her logic were a map I’d be lost.” The gnome had decided to join them, the badger scurrying around his heels as he walked up.

         About to share the sentiment, Thade was cut off again by the fourth “helper”, the human who must’ve been feeling left out or something because he decided to come over too. What was it with the locals here? Maybe they had a sixth sense for determining when he was about to say something.

         “Because it’s the right thing to do, that’s why.” At least this guy spoke with a little conviction in his voice. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all…

         Oh, no. Thade thought he spied a holy symbol on his clothes. Yep, there it was. So much for the fleeting sensation of relief. St. Cuthbert, was it? The god of justice? Odd, to find a priest of the Just God agreeing to help a halfing steal something he had stolen in the first place. Perhaps he was just getting to the root of the problem before acting. Perhaps he was just as clueless as the rest.

         “I don’t see that it is, but even if so it doesn’t get us any gold, now, does it?” Thade said, inclined to side with the gnome. He had promised, though...”However, I know I already agreed to do it anyways, and that’s all I need. Now, before we get too involved,” he said, holding up a hand to stave off comments, “can we get everyone’s names?”

         Apparently the gnome was named Sube, and his badger was named Skeeter (he had to be introduced properly as well, it would seem). He was a “disciple of nature” as he put it, which Thade took to mean that he didn’t have a job and was forced to live off the land in poverty. Poor fellow. Maybe he could be friends with the halfing. Hey, they were both short on luck, right? And short, period. That had to count for something.

         The other one was Kroger, and it turned out he wasn’t a local. No, he was from the temple in Laruna. Thade always thought it was ironic that a cleric would say he was from “the” temple, even though there was more than one. What, were the rest of the gods wrong? What makes your temple “the” temple rather than “a” temple? Kroger was on the road on a pilgrimage, though he wouldn’t part with details, saying only that he had felt the urge to head out this way. Thade wondered if that meant the authorities in Laruna were after him. That would give him the urge to take a pilgrimage, too.

         Thade introduced himself to both of them, and asked what they thought of the job. It seemed as though she had neglected to inform them of the specific details, though, so Kiro filled them all in again after he gave his name to everyone.

         The elf, he noticed, petulantly avoided giving her name yet again. He decided to pin her down on the subject.

         “And you?” he inquired politely.

         “And me what?”

         “What’s your name?” And I thought it was obvious…

         “Why?”

         Why? Thade found himself caught off-guard for the third time that day. “Er…why not?”

         “Oh. Well, since you put it that way, it’s Firiel. Firiel Silverhair.” She looked around at the little assemblage with the announcement.

         Someone with silver hair whose last name was “Silverhair”. Maybe it’s an elven thing. Thade really didn’t know all that much about them.

         Well, some progress at least. “Now, you might want to tell us about this wizard, Kiro. What’s he look like, where is he, you know, the standard stuff.”

         “Oh, right! Well, he’s about this tall,” the halfling started, holding his hand in the air and jumping—and probably still failing miserably at coming close to the proper height of the person he was trying to describe. “And…he said he was going north to investigate a ruin or something.”

         “North? Anyone know what kind of ruins are up there? I’m not from around here,” Thade followed up.

         “Why don’t we ask the nice man behind the bar?” Firiel chimed in.

         He turned and saw that the innkeeper had returned. From the look on his face he was probably thinking how strange it was to see all of them together since earlier they had made it a point to give each other space.

         “Do you know anything about ruins to the north, sir?” Kroger inquired of him.

         “Ruins? I don’t think there’s anything like that up…well, unless you count the old fort there. The army abandoned it before my time, and probably most of yours, too—‘cept for you, of course, miss.” He had picked up on the elf’s presence quickly, Thade noticed. Could be he was trying to find a customer for the fancy room.

         “But why would a wizard go to an old army fort? That doesn’t make much sense.” Sube seemed to have a tendency to think aloud.

         Thade chuckled. “In my experience wizards make it a point not to make much sense to the rest of us.”

         He noticed that, for some reason, Firiel thought that was funny.

***

         What was left of the night passed reasonably quickly. The humans stayed up to discuss tactics, neither having faced a wizard in combat before. Sube preferred to stay outside, and left to camp on the outskirts of town. Thade reasoned that he must be shorter of money than he was willing to admit. Brokkem got uproariously drunk again and tossed a man through the window in some dispute, which would have normally gotten someone kicked out of the inn. It seemed that being twice the size of anyone in the town and constantly stroking a large axe had its advantages, though, because he wasn’t.

         It must be true that some people have all of the luck, because the innkeeper was so impressed by Firiel’s presence that he offered her the good room free of charge, undoubtedly hoping she would stay a few days and attract clientele just by being there. Already that night quite a few of the locals filtered in for one reason or another, some obviously just to see an elf. Thade hadn’t realized that they came so rarely out of their forests. After all, he came from the Umash Outlands, and everyone wanted to get out of there.

         Morning came, and with it departure time. “First light” turned out to be a good sight earlier than his regular waking hour, and Thade wondered again why he had agreed to help the little runt without compensation. That wizard had better have something of value on him besides a ruby; this charity act wasn’t going to cut it.

         Throwing on his pack, he hefted his blade out the door and down the stairs to see everyone assembled in the tavern. Well, almost everyone. Sube had promised to meet them on their way out.

         “All ready?” he asked the group.

         He made the count at a nod from Kroger, a grunt from Brokkem, and a shrug from Firiel. Of the four of them (not including Kiro), she was the only one without a weapon. Maybe she was planning to reason the wizard to death. Then again, if he tried to follow her logic again, he might get fatally lost. But she had predicted that he would help Kiro…

         They filed out the door into the cool morning air. At least there didn’t look like there’d be any more rain today. At this rate, they might even enjoy the journey north. The innkeeper said it was about a two hour trip to the old fort. Hopefully the wizard was still there; Thade didn’t want to think about having to track him down had he already left—and if he teleported there wouldn’t be any point at all in trying to find him. Well, no use being too pessimistic. Yet.

         No sooner had they cleared the edge of the stable—apparently Thade wasn’t the only one in this little party without the wherewithal to own a horse—then a large raven swooped down and perched on Firiel’s shoulder. Already an unusual sight, something tugged at his memory that seemed to make it worse, especially since she didn’t seem to mind it at all.