Snippet #1370677

“I am Severia Sorcha Cousland, I prefer to be addressed as ‘Ser Sev’.”

Raelnor eyed the girl up and down from behind his helmet. She was fair skinned and her face was clearly that of superior breeding, so he reasoned a Noble. The strike she had landed on his shield had given him a clue as to her physical prowess. This was not a noble who spent much time in the political game, perhaps one of the more warring families? Raelnor stopped himself, why does it matter? I am not here to think about a female who fancies herself a warrior.

“You may call be Raelnor Dryden,”

He said in a cold tone,

“and I thank you for your hospitality in this matter.”

Severia nodded back in response.

“A group of bandits tried to overwhelm us and failed. There was no sign of a child from what I saw. They could possibly have been the ones that overwhelmed yourself, Ser Templar.”

Raelnor let out a frustrated sigh. He was thankful for their deaths, but had wished to do the deed himself. Still, it was done and he would have to be satisfied. Sadly this brief satisfaction of vengeance was soon eclipsed by the realization that, if the girl had not been with the bandits, he had no way of finding out where she was.

“Thank you for the information, Ser Sev. I am in your debt.”

Severia poured cups of cider for each of the group and handed one to Raelnor. He thought about refusing the drink, but thought it best not to be rude and accepted. Holding the tin cup gingerly in his gloved hands, the warmth that radiated through was greatly appreciated and Raelnor considered shedding some of his armor, but decided it was best not to. He would wait here until his armor dried and this Maker-forsaken rain died down.

“When the rain stops, I shall take my leave and head to Lothering to see the girl’s family. Perhaps, if I am lucky, she fled the bandits and headed back home.”

As time wore on and his armored began to dry Raelnor couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. He constantly stared at the noble woman, who for some unknown reason, was sitting in a cave in the middle of the Wilds… Very odd. Not only that, but she seemed to surround herself with elves. Most likely servants, he reasoned, so perhaps that was not so strange. But the Lynx that had bounded into the cave behind one of the elves thoroughly mystified him.

“It is clear you are of Noble stock, Ser Sev. What brings you to such a dismal place? And why in such strange company? Are these elves your personal servants?”