So I ended up telling the blonde-haired elf on the fly that I came from a small farming and fishing community from further north. She seemed to buy it, (it’s actually not far from the truth) and then insisted that I stay a day or two to recover from my ordeal. Real bread, butter, and chunky meat soup for the first time in days was so delicious. I didn’t ask what the meat was...but then again I was too starved to care. A bath in the river nearby with soap helped me to feel like a million bucks...or should I say a million gold? Too bad there's no exchange rate here.
While laying in bed, I had time to think about Eversong Woods and everything I remembered from playing the game. Silvermoon City had to be here, along with powerful magi. Surely they would be able to figure out why I was pulled to Azeroth right before crashing…and possibly dying. But what forces were at work to cause something like that to occur?
After a hot cup of tea to relax me, I drifted off to sleep. No dreams, just pure rest (without the fear of being eaten by a giant cat.) I woke up when I heard the softest footsteps pad by my cot, and cracked my eyes to see two leather-clad hunters set off into the dark of the morning. Their bows were gorgeous leather-wrapped wood works of art complete with burnished silver ornamentation and detailed quivers on their backs. As an archer and hunter myself, I appreciated the beauty of the moment before they slipped off into the dark.
Another hour of sleep went by and I finally felt rested enough to get up. By then the other residents of the Farstrider Retreat as they called it had settled into their daily routines by the dimmest light of the morning -- looking over ore samples, prepping leathers for tanning, cooking some delicious-smelling food, and filleting fish.
If it weren’t for the two pointy-eared guys in the back of the main room casting faint purple swirls on the tips of his arrows, I might actually have believed I was still in my world.
I sighed quietly, swung my legs over the edge of the cot, folded my bedding into a pile, and tucked the cot against the wall. Footsteps quickly approached me, and I turned to see the same blonde-haired woman from the previous day. She had told me her name was Lieutenant Ithariel Dawnrunner, and that in public I would address her as Lieutenant, but in private conversation Ithariel was fine. I figured she had decided my presence wasn’t a total nuisance if I could be useful.
“Alright Alivia Dawn, it’s time to get you into some...proper armor.” she said dryly, with a slight smile slipping through. “Come with me.”
I followed her up the secluded ramp to the second level where she had a tall shelf filled with leather gear. She eyed me and then pulled out a pair of brown pants, a red long-sleeved tunic, and several worn ornately decorated leather breastplates and wristguards. With that, she gave me a green wool cloak and a simple worn gold clasp. She set them on a chair and opened the small doors at the bottom of the shelf, pulling out a pair of leather boots.
“I will loan these to you for a few days. I hope by then you will have demonstrated some sort of skills or talent that will allow you to earn money to travel home.” she offered, and rested her hand on her sword.
“Get dressed. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
I peeled off the simple clothes I had slept in and scurried into the new outfit, taking a little extra time to figure out the extra layers. A quick french braid to the side later and I looked...well, pretty damn good...
...ok FINE, I looked like at least like a level 20 scrub!
← Previous Story: Finding the Farstriders | Next Story: Loneliness →
