Elron Salovy's Story

Elron Salovy

Today was the start of a beautiful day. The morning was sunny and just a bit windy to kiss the sweat off one's back and made traveling a little more comfortable in Elron's opinion. They hadn't come across any dangers thus far so that was always a positive thing to look forward to. He and Alistair had already traveled so far from the castle and there was no sign of pursuit which was a good thing for the both of them. He was sure the king would have some words with him about why he hadn't brought the young prince back home and the king wouldn't like his answer. Sometimes, one had to let their children stray and grow, make their own decisions and just support them from the sidelines.

Elron knew he was dancing the line of being over protective by coming with him and not letting him go on his own, but Alistair was still the second son heir to the Valein throne and he was yet young to the world. There was no way he was going to let the boy just wander off by himself to find a mythological sword. He would let Alistair make their decisions and learn about the life on the road and offer support and a little advise here and there, but it was on Alistair's shoulders where they went and where they stopped and what they did. That was the only truly way to learn about something. Books may detail everything in the world but what was words on a page in the face of physical experience and knowledge? Books couldn't teach you how to truly hunt and feel the weight of weapons and judge distance with your own eyes or how to wager for goods.

Elron turned his evergreen eyes towards the direction Alistair pointed when he heard the boy call out to him.In the distance he could see the sleepy town just beginning its day. He didn't see fires or chaos so it seemed like heading into town may be a good idea. They needed to restock their supplies and coin purses if they were going to make it much farther in their quest for the demon sword. There was only so much that he could hunt for on the road. Perhaps they could make enough gold to purchase horses as well. Walking was fine and dandy but they were so much slower this way and he could ride more than he could walk. Besides, a horse could carry much more supplies than they could and it was best to stock up when they could.

"'Tis all the same ta me, Alistair. Dependin' on how high horse wares are, how much we have 'n how much we make, it may be a good investment ta get a horse. I've got some trinkets I can charm 'n sell or trade besides the work we do in town ta earn more coin. Hopefully tis a farming town. I do see lots a green. Farmers always need extra hands," he commented and walked up beside the younger man. He adjusted his own hood over his coco bean colored hair to get it out of his face. "If we continue towards the town we should get there by mid mornin'. What is the first thing you want ta do when we get there?" he asked him then.

(Sorry for the short post, slight writer's block. It'll be better next time.)

Routa Belvadear Cain

Routa offered a nod when his father indicated that he shouldn’t let this failure fall on his shoulders so heavily. What could he have done anyway to prevent the bridge from collapsing? If they had gotten there earlier, they might have gotten on the bridge but then the Valein faction would have finished destroying the bridge with them on it and they would have fallen to their deaths. It was stupid thinking that it was his fault. His shoulders began to droop a little with his relief and his exhaustion for traveling so far without much rest.

When his father mentioned that he wanted him to go on the expedition looking for this fabled sword, Routa’s eyes widened in disbelief. His father would send him off on a wild goose chase? It was one thing for him to hire others and send out some warriors looking for it, but to send him? Right after he said that the loss at the Eastern gate wasn’t his fault? It sure felt like this was some sort of punishment for his failure to take the passage. Why else wouldn’t his father want him on the front lines? Routa was a warrior and a leader of battle if nothing else! Routa took great pride in his ability to fight and lead his soldiers beside his father. This… this request was almost like a slap in the face for the young prince. Did his father care so little about his battle prose that he would send him so far away from the battle? And he was sending him off with mercenaries no less. He found it abashing that he was tossed aside this way. Didn’t he care about his pride and the image Routa was trying to obtain for when he had to lead and his father gone?

At his father’s last statement, Routa looked up at the man and swallowed hard, his hands fisting in his hurt pride. “Father, you just said that heirs are always eager to prove themselves. I am your heir and I want to prove myself to you and these men. How am I to keep in their good grace if I am sent so far away from the battle field? They’ll think me a coward that has turned tail to hide! A true leader should be beside his men in battle, not tucked away somewhere! Why should I be sent to some mountain to chase after this sword? Let me prove my worth to you, to our people, and to our men on the battle field,” he stated then. “I won’t fail you.”

Before Routa could fight for his case, they were interrupted by a variety of people. The tent was quickly beginning to feel crowded with so many bodies. He wasn’t sure he was liking this turn of events. At least Tessa had announced a small measure of good news. They had a little victory to lighten the air considering the other failures and setbacks they had. It was good to know that they could still defeat the Valein army bit by bit. Before he or his father could react to the good news, other two had entered the tent. Routa arched an eyebrow when his gaze settled on the newcomers. One of them looked rather scrawny and gentile almost. The other looked more battle worn as a mercenary should at least. These were two of the men his father wanted to send after the sword? He almost wanted to scoff at them, especially at the fair haired and skinned man. He didn’t look like much of a fighter.

Routa waited patiently as his father spoke to their group before he cleared his throat and rested his hands on his hips, lightly caressing the short swords at his sides in excitement. “I do have doubts and concerns, father. For this company to truly do your will and obtain the sword or capture and kill the young Valein prince, a measure of skill is required. I would wish to test their sword arm to ensure they are worthy of the task. I would not wish for this quest to fail because our men weren’t suited. Should they prove themselves able fighters, I have no qualms about sending them. May I test them now?” he asked his father. “And what of the matter we discussed about this mission before they entered?” he questioned, indicating the conversation of whether or not his father wanted to send him after the sword or not. If his father insisted… he would have to go. Father or no he was still his king but he would wish to stay on the front if given a choice.

Elron Salovy

Elron followed his charge as the prince headed towards the village. He was happy the young man had listened to his advice on the horse but he was a little sad that Alistair sent him off to do the task of bargaining for the horse alone. He wanted the man to learn how to bargain for the beasts since they were expensive. Ah well. Maybe next time. He adjusted the bag on his back and gave a nod. “All righ’,” he answered Alistair.

Once they reached their destination, Elron smiled and inhaled deeply. He could smell the familiar scent of animals, dirt, sweat, and sewage, but he was used to those smells by now. The enticing scent of freshly baked bread and pastries were far more attention calling. And ooh in the distance he could smell the tantalizing hints of pig being cooked in the mud oven beneath the ground. He could almost see the fat melting now and flaking off on his tongue. His stomach growled in its desire to sample the delicacy but he had to keep his head in the game. Now was not the time for that. He had a task he needed to complete for his prince.

“When we’re done, let’s meet at the inn, je?” he said to confirm. When given the affirmative, Elron headed out deeper into the town searching for a horse breeder. There had to be one around here somewhere. He was sure they had good stocky breeds to since farmers needed their strength to plow the fields. It wasn’t long until he did find a stable with a few horses tethered to their stalls. Elron smiled and walked over to the first horse; a handsome young thing with wide shoulders and strong legs. His coat was a light as the ocean sand.

“Oi, traveler, you lookin’ for something like?” a man just as muscled as the horse called out from the little house connected to the tables. “I ain’t seen yous about ‘ere before.”

Elron pulled away from the horse and gave a small bow to the humble farmer to excuse his behavior of coming so close to the horses. “Hail, my good man. Indeed, I am a traveler. Just came ta town ‘n lookin’ for some good horses. These be your magnificent creatures? I have coin if yer willin’ ta sell.”

The farmer rubbed his chin as he eyed the stranger and the horses. The burly man came closer before he leaned against one of the stalls and crossed his arms, a look of appraisal in his eyes. “How many ya lookin’ ta buy?”

“One or two. How much for a horse?” Elron asked. “I’d also be willin’ ta offer my arm ta aid you while I am in town.”

“These beasts are me bread ‘n butter on the farm. 1000 Jovels each.”

“That’s awfully high for a horse. How ‘bout 1200 Jovels for two horses ‘n I work your farm with you?”

The farmer rubbed his chin debating before and he shook his head. “Not ‘nough for what I’d be losin’, Stranger. Yer one of dem charmin’ gypsies, ain’t ya? You’s got them marks on yer face. 1400 Jovels, work the field with me till ya leave and I git two of yer charms.”

“That’s all fine, but I won’t go over 1300 Jovels,” Elron finalized.

“Fine. You can pick yer horses when you finish payin’ me. Do ya have the money now? How long does it take ya to do yer witchcraft?” The farmer asked then.

“Couple of days. I’ll give you the money and charms at the same time ‘n I’ll start workin’ for you tomorrow, je?”

“Sounds fair.” The farmer reached out then to shake Elron’s hand with a tight grip. “What’s ya name, Stranger?”

“Elron. ‘n yours?”

“Blake. Good doin’ business with ya. I expect ya here ‘morrow mornin’ before the sun rises, ya hear? Yer not here ready to work, no deal.”

“Well ‘n good then, Blake. Much appreciated. What kinda charms you want me ta weave?”

“One to charm the damn foxes to keep ‘way from them chickens ‘n one ta scare them crows.”
“I’ll get on it,” he promised. “See you on the ‘morrow.” After a nod, Elron turned away from the farmer with a small smile and headed to the inn to tell his prince the good news. That had been a rather good deal for two mountain strong horses. In the cities those creatures ran up to 1500 jovels each depending on the breed.

Iota

---

---

"Though far from gallant, on he rode."

"A boy who dreamt of honor and glory."

"Great was his heart and greater his spirit."

"But, alas his body was worn and old..."

A deep sense of serenity and quiet fell over the tavern, save for the phlegm-induced spit take in the background. The silence was disrupted by the laugh and cheers of the tavern's inhabitants. Whether they were residents or passer-byers, drunk or sober, every soul in the tavern had stopped what they were doing to listen in on the young man's song. Iota opened his eyes, once the first 'clang' rang out in his ears, followed by many more. He eyed the small bucket that laid before him as slivers of copper and silver began pouring in from various directions. He couldn't help but revel in the luck he was having today. This really was the best tavern in town to score off of the local drunks. He would have to give that urchin boy an added tip for the information he had sold him. Then again, he was lucky enough to have gotten anything at all, after his unsuccessful pickpocketing attempt.

After everyone had more or less lost interest in Iota and returned to whatever they were doing prior, he took this opportunity to count his earnings. Setting down his lute, he rushed over to the bucket before some unsavory fellow decided to snatch it up. While not exactly brimming at the seams, the bucket gave a generous jingle as it was lifted up.
"22 silver coins sand 47 copper! At this rate, I might have a buy a round for the whole house." To this, a couple of nearby patrons lifted their brows to Iota. Crooked, toothy grins cascaded under their dirty beards. As Iota pondered whether he should try doubling his earnings, a sudden itch in his throat caused him to cough, implying that his throat was dry. 'My, my. It looks like I'll have to wet my whistle before I can perform again.' Content with himself, Iota made his way over to the barkeep. He moved with the radiance and grace of a prince, catching a disgruntled gaze or two as he passed by the other patrons.

"Good day, my good bar keep! One mug of your finest ale!" Iota chirped, taking a seat at the bar and placing his bucket-sized wallet onto it. A portly man in his mid-30's scowled at Iota, looking noticeably unimpressed as his gaze went from him to the bucket.

"Tha'll be forty two silver, lad. Not that a pup like you could stomach it." After this, the man let out a hearty chuckle before returning to his initial scowl. "Well? Ya got the money er not, boy?"

Iota was perplexed. While he did have the funds to cover it with todays fees, this purchase would leave Iota practically broke. With a drawn out sigh, Iota took five silver coins out of his bucket and gently placed them onto the bar. "Aye... I'll just have what everyone else is having, then."

After slapping a gargantuan hand onto the coins and sliding them into his apron pocket, the large man took no time at all to prepare Iota's drink. The barkeep then proceeded to slam the mug on bar desk dripping a fair portion of it onto the bar itself and his hand. "Try not to puke after the first sip, pup." The burly man quipped, before stumbling off to tend to his other patrons.

Not even bothering to recognize the bar keeps rude behavior, Iota began playing a few tunes in his head as he lost himself in his drink. He was struggling to decide whether he wanted to write about the one armed juggler he met in Heist or the miner who swore he could spotted a dragon in the Grotian mines and even spoke with it. Ultimately deciding that the juggler seemed the much more interesting of the two to write about, Iota woke up from his trance, only to find that he already went through most of his drink. "That's no good... I should go chat with some of the locals to make this last longer~" With a childish grin spread across his face, Iota began walking over towards one of the tables. As soon as he came within eight feet, he was immediately greeted with unwelcoming grimaces and malicious stares. It was obvious that the brutish characters who mostly inhabited the bar didn't quite care for his company.

Well if the confrontational approach wouldn't work, then Iota knew what would. Once again taking a seat at his bar stool by the fireplace, he grabbed his lute and began spinning another tune. This time, it was about widow who's husband was buried under an orchard tree that never bore fruit, year round. The next time she returned to his grave, the tree was bustling with ripe orbs of mouth-watering sweetness. While this didn't bring about as much commotion as his previous song, he received a few bouts of applause from the friendlier looking fellows along with a silver coin and several pieces of copper. While he didn't quite get the response he was looking for, Iota could now at least tell who would be more willing to chat with him.

Making his way over to a pair of young folk, who looked to be no older than twenty, Iota walked up to them with his trademark smile. Luckily, they seemed to be a little more accepting of his company. After only a few minutes he got to know both of the young men quite well. Joan and Parkiff were their names and both of them were soldier trainees, training to become guardsmen. Shortly after their conversation about what kind of women they were into, Iota's attention was grasped by a hooded figure who had made his way into the tavern. "He's quite the handsome one, now isn't he?" Iota commented, receiving a couple of bewildered looks from the trainees as he pointed to the newcomer.