#eledris

I couldn't sleep. So when I finally returned home, I didn't even bother going inside. Instead I stripped down out of my armor, undid my hair and walked across the grounds with no particular destination in mind. My feet simply kept brushing against the grass as I lost myself in the sound of the evening forest. The fireflies were out again, twinkling every so often as if to accompany the music. I might have paced around in large sweeping circles for hours or maybe it had just been a few times, but regardless I didn't grasp where I truly was until I sat down on one of the old benches that bordered the treeline.

My thoughts were everywhere and while I could focus on each of them in time, it didn't stop the buzzing noise in the background. Half of me was dwelling on Velest and how I'd decided to call her a friend. I know any man would have laughed at such a stupid proclamation and interpreted such words as something less than what they should be. I think that's the problem when it comes to what I think. I tell myself I don't make friends. I don't call people friends. I don’t look for friendship. That's become my rule, one I rarely break.  Yet if I do, then in my heart, that is the pinnacle of my declarations.

People want more though. They always want more than that.

She continues to be a rarity. She simply accepted it and if anything, maybe some part of her understood the real meaning for me. She even made the promise I asked and I want to believe it. Do I though? … I'm not sure yet. All I know is that I'm tired of losing precious things. I don't want to feel that numbing pain.  I just want to be left alone and yet... I don't understand myself. Why? Friends or not, why am I letting myself care? Why can't I stop?  

In mindset, I found myself wondering why I bothered to look after Eledris' people at all. They should know what they're getting into by working for him, although a part of me wonders if they actually do. Maybe they're blinded by the gold or his insufferable quips. In all likelihood, they're simply being fooled. I was that same fool once and despite it, I still tried to save him. It didn't work and all that came of it was he dragged me through his mud.  

I guess I'm still trying to find a way to save him. Save them. Perhaps that makes me the biggest fool of them all.

As long as she's there though, I don't think I can just look away. There's got to be a way around it though. I can toss extra coin towards Eledris and pick up more contracts, but I don't know if I trust that for a long goal. She could figure it out. He could screw me over. I have to think of another way and most importantly, I need to leave. There has to be a way to do that, while still having their best interest kept high. Fel... again, why the fuck do I care? I don't truly know many of them. They’re just brief glimpses and idle conversations. They're not a family that I'm sworn to protect. I'm not under any contract. Is she really the glue or is it more to that? Is it him? Both?

All of those ideas and more were churning in my head, but as the hours waned on and dawn began to threaten the horizon, I realized there were no answers for me here. They weren't the kind of questions that I could mull over and puzzle out, but rather I had to simply keep moving. Only time and action would grant me insight or a response and right now and I didn't have the luxury.  

The most important thing for me to focus on was my upcoming job. The small attack on Lain reeked of fel magic and demons. It was eerily similar to the intel this new contract had given me. Something was definitely in motion and my instincts were screaming that it was them again. Even if there was just a small chance, I had to take it. Besides, if I didn't snatch it up then there was a risk that it would be left to someone else and I couldn't let that happen. There was no way I was letting anyone go- not after what I'd been through and there certainly wasn't room for distractions.  

In a few days, I would be leaving. If all went well, the contract would only take about a week. If all went well, it would simply be a coincidence and I'd just have to put down some idiots dabbling into shit they didn't understand. If all... well, I knew I shouldn't push my luck.

Sitting in the darkness, I felt a faint twinge of knifing pain in my shoulders and below my hips. Often mistaken as tattoos, the marks were smooth like supple glass and had faded to a crimson color out of dormancy. Just phantom pains, I told myself, but the recollection of where I'd gained them made me uneasy. Uneasy, yet hopeful.

I really wanted to kill more of those bastards.

The Orc had been spotted a few times before. He was clad in dark leathers and cloth for traveling gear with a visible bow upon his back. Each time he had skirted just beyond the realms of the swamp and dry land, close enough to take note but far enough away not to be a direct threat. Still, upon the third time it began to gnaw at the hunter. Something was off or at least, he couldn't help but feel as if he should make certain the man was not a threat. Leader had given permission for the spearman to track and investigate, which led the jumping Sin'dorei to delve into the familiar swamp and follow.

Lain did not know he was being hunted as well. His amethyst eyes were focused on the Orc as he crouched low, used to the silence of the swamp when foreigners graced the landscape with their presence. He was well hidden and had tread carefully, but the Orc was thought to be a hunter by his dress and careful navigation.

The spearman hadn't realized it was a simple ruse and that stalk as he might, he could not hide the magic that permeated from his form.

A rustling of bushes was the only warning Lain received as the felhunter burst forth from the foliage. His body twisted to turn around in surprise, but a whip-like appendage from the demon greeted him first. The spindled end drove straight into the back of his shoulder in a spray of gore and cracked bone. Pain seared through his body and his grip on his spear weakened, only to be lost completely as in abrupt succession the second appendage ripped into Lain's other shoulder. A gurgled yelp of pain spilled from his lips as his hands trembled in weakness before losing their ability to curl altogether, dropping his weapon to the ground.

A rasped yip escaped the demon in excitement at its find as it shoved Lain against the damp earth, spines still barbed into the spearman's body. He writhed in protest, kicking backwards at an attempt to gain any kind of purchase against the felhunter's form, but the beast's strong tendrils kept him pinned and well away. Drool slathered down its jaws as it snapped at the air and pawed at the ground, agitated but frenzied at the delicious scent of its prey.

Magic.

Lain felt hot blood flowing from his wounds and over his form, burning and throbbing as the fel-tainted weapons squirmed inside his back. Yet none of that compared to the abrupt lurching sensation that stemmed not just from his gut, but from his entire body. A torrential wave of nausea and white hot fire screamed through his entirety as the felhunter fed off of the energy within him. He didn't understand what was happening, all he knew was that demons of this type were his bane. They were attracted to him like flies to honey and finally, he had been caught. Agony blinded his vision and sent his body into spasms as it fed and fed and fed until...

“Ivik n'tosh gar!” The Orc that Lain had been following called out to his minion and at first, the felhunter resisted its master's demands. The prey was too sweet to simply stop, but with a furrowed brow and an effort of will the Orc's voice rose into a crescendo and the demon reluctantly was forced to stop.

Squished footsteps sounded the warlock's approach. The bow he had been carrying was abandoned, a ruse for those who saw a traveler and soon the caster knelt down by Lain's fallen form. The creature still kept him pinned to the ground, blood seeping from his back and the hunter's cries had fallen ragged.  Yet it was a breath of respite from the hitched pain the demon had wrought upon his form.

“So I was followed, hm?” The Orc surveyed Lain, eyes narrowing in contemplation. “You are some kind of mage then? My demon is simply salivating to devour you... wait. No. That's not it.”  He scowled and reached a hand out towards the spearman, thick fingers soon gripping at the back of Lain's head to tug on his hair, forcing the hunter's head up. Dark eyes bore into the Sin'dorei's pained expression as the warlock concentrated, reaching out with his own senses to identify what about this curious creature was bothering him.

“Not a mage at all and yet...”   The lock muttered an incantation under his breath and with a free hand he opened a palm up towards the sky. Green fel flame sprang forth from his fingertips for a moment and then suddenly it roared in intensity, licking hungrily at the air and growing in size. The spell’s response surprised the Orc as his eyes widened and he stared back towards the face of his new captive.

“I have stumbled upon a delicious treasure. I will have to take a measure of care to test you out and yet keep you secret, mm?”  His lips curled into a wild smile as he slowly rose to stand, hand lingering as if hesitating to let go of his new precious find. His fingers balled into a fist and he made a commanding gesture towards the demon as he walked off.  The felhunter obliged the command, appendages lifting from the ground and bringing Lain up with the motion, eliciting a scream of protest as the Sin'dorei remained speared like a brutalized kabob.

“Oh Ruby...what a treasure you were to me....”

“A gift in every way. You see, there was no need to prolong this fate...”

“Because the contract only called for your death.”

“He gave me access to his room, his tools, his world...but I didn’t need any of them to reach the part of him that I knew we shared.”

“And as I held your head back and carved my art across your canvas, I let him watch the life fade from those eyes.”

“Euphoric is the word I will always relate to you, dear Ruby. For you left the room in a heavy air of copper as I painted you across his cheek.”

“You tasted like a dream, he said. I agree. Because you were the only beauty in this perfect nightmare that we both love to craft. Too bad you couldn’t stay to watch us savor your crimson life, though.”

“But all he had to do was watch you die. And oh, how he did...”

It's growing again. Grain by grain. Stone by stone.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ The air is cold and bitter with reminders. Her memory is a ghost here. I had to stay away from that rock. I could still see her blonde hair. I chewed my mouth until I tasted copper. Stay out of my head. Just stay out. For once. He said it was an emergency. I should have known better. Cry wolf. Cry wolf again. Am I the only one left who gives a damn? The value is lost on me. I can't help but feel that if I give up though, Your grave will be waiting. She's near here. Lettered words are etched into my mind. They unmade and struck me again. The guilt. The assumption. The time. My heart wants to go, because it belongs to a fool. My mind wants to fight, because inside there's anger. I can't win this time. Like last time. Just vilify me already, my Lady. Finish me off, once and for all. I'm worried and I couldn't say it in the end. I trust you. I'm sorry, but I don't trust much anymore. Even though I desperately want to give it. I gave you honesty. Laced in lies. I will simply watch for now if I must. Titans and Gods, I fear for you. The stars have been the one true constant. I have no doubt she is more than she appears. She is a rarity and that I know very well. I know, yet I don't understand it at all. It'll break. I know it'll break. Please for the love of everything, don't do this to me. Don't try to tear down these walls. ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

“And the company wasn’t so bad.”

A small whisper has graced my ear with knowledge of one of your endeavors. I am rather curious about this new concoction and desire a sample of it for my studies. I would assure you that I have no motivation nor desire to tread upon your affairs, but I'm keenly aware that the value of one's word is rather woefully undervalued for you. A reasonable sum of coin can be arranged in return or if you are in the market of favors, I would be tentatively willing to lend my services in the future.

Regardless, the sample needs to be an adequate amount valued for a week's use if it can be arranged. I would also prefer it stem from whatever would be considered the most recent batch.

- L. Estelan

Lain was not sure how he ended up in this predicament. One moment he was asking Bartender to help him read a very important piece of paper and the next he was standing behind a counter in a frilly white apron. He was struggling to pick random bottles from behind the bar as he served the three men sitting around the long driftwood table. The smell of stew ready to be served was flooding the tavern as it bubbled over the fire, only adding to Lain's nerves as he tried balancing in his cooking.

“Come on Lain! What'dya got for us now?” The first of the three elves was Bartender himself, casually straddling a chair as he only wore a comfortable pair of pants. Bandages littered his body along with a smattering of bruises, but he was clean, spirited and his hair impeccably swept back. Vincint Ken'doranel. 

“Stop bothering him and talking so loudly.”  The second elf, Farwyn, rumbled. He had recently returned to the base after an endless walking trek. Now he was simply in casual linens, arms crossed with a cold rag over his face as he kept his head tilted back.

Lastly there was was the third of the family reunion, Eledris Falathren. He was cleaning his gun on the table, pieces scattered about as he made frantic motions for Lain to hurry just to egg the poor Sin'dorei onward.

“I don't know what these are!” Lain protested as he brought them a third helping of glasses and set them carefully on the table.

“That's the best part. If you accidentally give Farwyn that mango juice again, I will tip you extra.”  Vincint winked and seized a drink, taking a large gulp to discover Lain had hit the jackpot- whiskey.

“Why in the fel do we even have that behind a bar?”  Far rumbled, unmoving as the world remained dark to him beneath the rag.

“Come on Farwyn, we're not peasants. Our tavern has to have everything.” Eledris dumped ammo onto the table and idly threw one of the bullets at Farwyn. It nailed the warrior directly in the nose, but the man continued to be unmovable.

“I dunno. Farwyn sort of looks like a peasant right now. Did you even shower?” Vincint quipped, spinning a pair of scissors off of one finger. For a man who nearly died about a week ago, he sure didn't seem to show it or was used to such events happening to him. An assassin wasn't exactly a long-living career.

“Yea, you always look terrible but today you look a step below that. You look...”

“Like a moldy waffle.”  Vincint offered, to which Eledris snapped his fingers and nodded in agreement.

“I haven't slept in two days. I just scrubbed pus out of my wounds and then lit them on fire. Not to mention I had to go all the way north and then ended up walking-”

“First of all, that's nasty. Second, I don’t care. Third, that's right! I heard you had a hot date!”  Vincint clapped his hands, “Was it the blonde with the nice tits? Did you see how I saved her before the orc blew us up? You remember that right? Totally owe me. She does too.”

“No.” Farwyn replied flatly, offering no other comment.

“I bet it wa-”

“Um. Sorry to interrupt, but will you help me now?”

 Lain had returned to the table, bowls of thick stew quickly plopped down near each of the Sin'dorei. Bartender had agreed to help read the detailed list with the promise that Lain would cook lunch. He wasn't sure why Leader and his grumpy cousin had to help too, but he assumed it was necessary. Then again, he also wasn't sure why Bartender insisted he wear the apron and start serving them all drinks. Lain couldn't read the complicated alcohol labels at all.

“OH RIGHT!”  Vincint eyed the stew with a scrutinizing gaze, stabbing his scissors down into the chair he sat upon. “Sure thing, Lainy. The garden hasn't died yet, right?”

“Bet the garden's dead.” Eledris hrmed thoughtfully, “If it is, might have to shoot you.”

“N-no!” Lain said, eyes widening in panic as he flailed his hands in front of him as if to deflect the blow of their words. “I-I understood the simple bits... I think! Maybe! I've watered, cleaned a-”

“Oooo watered. Bad move. You see, plants need a special kind o-”

“Just read him the damn paper, Bartender.”  Farwyn interrupted Vincint, still leaning back heavily in his chair with that cloth forever existing on his face. He was about ready to fall asleep at this point, not even the scent of stew was enough to rouse him to lift a finger.

“Don't forget my name, Far. All-Mighty Leader.”  Eledris grinned wickedly, pulling a bowl closer to him to also inspect it. The food actually looked halfway decent, which was surprising enough. Who knew the gullible jumper could cook a little?

“I will call you that when Vincint can go a week without killing someone.”  

“Hey I can easily d-yea, that's not going to happen. Sorry bud.” Vincint offered his condolences to Eledris and started to eat his stew, all but forgetting Lain's request once more. Eledris took a few samples himself before he went back to configuring the parts upon the table, obviously too engrossed to care about a silly piece of paper. 

 That only left Farwyn, who could practically feel the pleading gaze of Lain honing in on him, desperate for his pleas to be answered.The warrior ignored it for several minutes, until he heard a pathetic breath of defeat and finally he caved. One more hour of staying awake probably didn’t matter at this point.

“FINE. COME ON ROOF ELF.” He bellowed, tossing the cloth into Eledris' face as he stood up and tipped his chair over with the abrupt motion. His body felt like lead and his knees were screaming their own version of hell, but the grump snatched the parchment from the table and began stomping his way out of the tavern.

“Thankyousomuchforhelpingme Mister Lord Knight Magister Master Sir!” Lain all but leaped over the fallen chair to follow, relieved and profuse in his thanks. Farwyn paused at the entrance to stare at the strange purple-eyed Sin'dorei before he shook his head and continued on his way, muttering.

Where the fuck did you find this guy, Eledris?

“THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANKS COUUUUSIIIIIIIIN!”

Where the fuck did I find those two assholes for that matter?

Dear Journal,

I was able to draft an idea for the deployable shield though it was done with much frustration. Seems I am not the best at drawing schematics.

When I provided these plans to Eledris, who happens to be an engineer, he turned it a bit and offered to redo them. I was embarrassed, to say the least. Then again, I am not a master at design.

Should these work, we may will finally be able to protect those who heal upon the field of battle. At times, being able to maintain a shield can be taxing. Couple that with a major wound and you have a recipe for disaster.

There have been those who said we should use teleportation runes or stones to move the wounded but those can have a chance to fail or be blocked with anti-magic shields. This will not need much and can retract with a simple press of a button. Maybe.

For now, I look forward to seeing what we can come up with and I am anxious to start testing the moment we have a prototype.

That is, if we can find the time to search out the parts.