I don't remember when it hit me, the weight of it crashing into me like waves upon rocks. The gravity of the situation had always been present, but the weight of it was only in the backs of our minds; we were just barely adults, only a few months out of adolescence... We couldn't comprehend the dangers of leaving. But in our naive, adventurous minds this is what we were meant to do, we told ourselves. This was the path that was laid out before us, and thus, we must take it.
How wrong we were and how foolish we were to believe as such.
Kaelin woke up with his arms and legs intertwined with the soft limbs of his lover and soon to be wife, Tierne. Slowly, he pulled himself from her grasp and stood from bed, the cool morning air raising bumps on his skin. He heard a soft groan come from the bed and he turned to see Tierne roll over and peek at him through squinted eyes.
"You're up early," she stated, her voice a raspy croak. Kaelin smiled and even without turning around he knew she was pouting. Tierne did not like that Kaelin was an early waker; she was content to lay in bed all day and run around all night.
"My dear little night owl," Kaelin cooed softly, turning around and holding a hand out to her, "The greatest joy in life is to watch the sunrise, to see the birth of a new day,"
She rolled over and groaned, throwing the covers over her head. With a laugh, Kaelin jumped onto the bed with her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her softly on the cheek.
"If you would rather lay in bed all day, go right ahead... Falcata, Beorn and I will just leave on our adventure without you!" he whispered in her ear, brushing her stark white hair off of her dark, lavender skin. Tierne was a Drow, also known as a Dark Elf. She was uncommon on the surface of Faerun, her species inhabiting the beautiful and dangerous cities of the Underdark. She rolled over again to face Kaelin and opened her sea green eyes, so unusual for this most unusual of races, and a but smile spread across his face as he saw the twinkle in them.
"Is it today already?!" She cried, leaping from bed. She quickly covered herself up though, for in her excitement she forgot that we had fallen asleep nude. Surely she was not embarrassed to be so bare before Kaelin, her lover and soon to be husband, but before her elderly neighbors certainly she was! Reaching for any kind of cover to the all too keen eyes of her Moon Elf neighbor, Kaelin tossed her a white lace undershirt and a matching pair of undergarments and laughed.
"It has been today for five hours already love. I'll leave you to your preparations; I'm meeting Falcata and Beorn at The Warehouse to collect our things. We will see you there," Kaelin said, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. What a contradicting couple they were! Kaelin, with his affinity for the day and Tierne with hers for the night. Even their appearances were polar opposites; Kaelen worse his jet black hair in a long ponytail, his bangs tucked neatly behind his ears and his complexion light, while Tierne kept her white hair short, barely reaching the middle of her neck and her bangs long, drooping past her cheek and her complexion dark.
Kaelen left their small wooden cabin and adjusted his newly acquired forest green cloak, ensuring the clasp about his neck wasn't loose. He brought his fingers to his lips and let loose a high pitched whistle and waited.
Sure enough, a few moments later the brush to his side began to rustle and Kaelen prepared myself. Out of the brush leaped a wolf, but no normal wolf. Try a wolf the size of a horse! Kaelen leaped straight up as the wolf rushed in, and spinning a half circle in the air, landed on the back of the beast, grabbing a handful of its hair in one hand and patting it on the head with the other.
"Prompt as always, dear Faer," he spoke softly to the wolf, scratching him behind the ear. With a low growl, Faer stomped his back foot until Kaelen stopped scratching. Apparently, he had found a good spot. Holding onto his fur as a reign and using his knees to guide him, Kaelen sent him into a gallop towards the bulk of the mostly Elven city.
So there we were, the four of us and my dearest companion and friend Kael, ready to set out on the first great adventure of our lives. Naive, young, stupid and brash all of us. To us, adventure was just that; adventure. It was running so far ahead of your parents in the woods that you lost sight of them and felt completely alone. It was the first time experiencing young love, the first time experiencing the tender touch of that love, the gentle caress of a hand on face, or hand upon breast. It was testing just how far you could leap from tree to tree, and how far you could run from shadow to shadow after curfew.
Adventure is holding all that you cherish and futilely grasping at it as it melts away like butter on a hot summer day.
"Bah! I knew she'd be runnin' late. The sun ain't even o'erhead yet ye dolt!" Kaelen heard as he approached the weapons shop, The Warehouse, atop his wolf-mount Faer. With a smile, he brought Faer to a halt beside a curious looking dwarf and a massive human girl.
"Have faith, Beorn. I am sure she will arrive shortly; she was the most excited of us to leave" the tall human, Falcata, named after the blade they found in her hand, explained, flipping her long blonde hair out of her face.
"Hmph! She'd better, or else she'll be findin' her adventurin' hard with me boot in her arse!" Beorn grumbled, but his companions could only laugh. Beorn often spoke as such, but his oaths to shove boots where they don't belong often fell short.
"Falcata is right, Beorn! Have faith. Tierne shall not be far behind me; she was gathering her things together as I left. Come, let us get our things and enjoy a meal before we leave," Kaelen said with a chuckle, patting his dwarf friend on the shoulder. Still grumbling, Beorn slammed the doors to The Warehouse open and stomped in, leaving his friends standing in the doorway shaking their heads.
"Fine day to be awoken early, I suppose," Falcata remarked, looking down at her Elf friend. Standing at six foot seven, it was common for Falcata to appear to be talking to her feet among the shorter Elf inhabitants.
"This it is, dear Falcata. That it is," Kaelen wholeheartedly agreed, following his loud dwarven friend in.
Inside they found Beorn wildly swinging his hammer around, bashing in the heads of unseen enemies, cursing and spitting the whole time. The owner, an Elf fighter by the name of Lav'ael, large by Elf standards but still dwarfed by Falcata, watched the Dwarf with a smile, his hand resting easily on the hilt of his self-crafted Elven Curveblade.
"Please, Sir Dwarf, if you plan to ever leave this town you will temper your fury in my shop; for if you are to break anything, you will spend the rest of your days working to replace it!" Lav'ael shouted above the long string of curses emitting from beneath a freshly made pile of armor.
"Oh, hush ye durned Elf..." Beorn grumbled, only his large dwarven nose and the head of his hammer sticking out of the pile. Stifling a laugh, Lav'ael moved over to help the Dwarf out from under the pile of armor. Grumbling and mumbling per typical Dwarf fashion, Beonr stroked his scruffy chin and hobbled away, his knee not nearly as bruised as his ego. Lav'ael shook his head and frowned, the scraggly beard upon the Dwarfs face a reminder of how young this small troupe truly was. He turned towards Falcata and Kaelen and smiled, bowing deeply.
"Ah yes, hello young Masters. I was wondering when you would be joining your loud friend here. Come, I have your gear ready and waiting for you over here," Lav'ael motioned for the human and Elf to follow and they did, eager to see the gifts Lav'ael was to bestow upon them.
"Wait! Wait I said! Here I am!" a voice from outside cried. Cringing, his eyes filled with rage suddenly, Lav'ael turned to the door. He did well to qwell his anger, but Kaelens elf eyes were quicker. He frowned, aware of the dark history Lav'ael shared with the Drow but said nothing. He smiled at Tierne, pulling her into a tight hug. He gave her a soft kiss on the lips and motioned for Lav'ael to continue. Lav'ael moved over to his workbench and reached under, pulling a lever that opened a chest sitting against the wall opposite of the trio. Excitedly, Tierne was the first to the chest, pulling out a beautifully crafted short sword and dagger wrapped in light leather armor. She looked at Lav'ael and smiled widely, her sea green eyes practically popping from her head in excitement.
"Thank you, Master Lav'ael! They are truly beautiful..." she sighed, her fingers trembling as she ran them down the flat of the blade. He merely nodded at her and turned his attention to Kaelen and Falcata. Falcata could hardly surpress her smile as she reached in and pulled out a finely wrought chain shirt and falcata blade, her namesake weapon. Kaelen inhaled sharply as he reached in and pulled out his weapon; an Elven Curveblade to match Lav'ael, his instructor of the past twenty years. He looked up at his master, mentor and friend and could find no words.
"Say nothing, dear, dear Kaelen. It is not often I craft a curveblade for it is no simple or cheap task. But you were a natural, and I could not rightfully deny you a weapon so designed for your hand," he explained, his eyes brimming with moisture.
"Thank you, Master Lav'ael... Thank you. You have done more than any of us could have ever possibly-" a great crash from behind the group cut Kaelen off mid-sentence and a collective groan let out as the source of the noise became evident. Blood dripping from yet another broken nose, Beorn stood staring up at a pedestal where a massive hammer once rested, which now lay on the floor next time his, blood splattered atop it's marvelous head.
"Well I'll be a bearded gnome..."Beorn muttered before falling backwards and to the floor, the force of the hammer knocking him out cold. With a resigned sigh, Falcata walked over to her defeated friend and rested his head in her lap. Resting her fingers on his broken nose, she fell into a quiet prayer to Tymora for the power to heal Beorn. With an audible crack that made the audience of three flinch, Beorn rose to a sitting position roaring, the blood on his face giving him a rather intimidating presence.
"Well then? Have a good laugh at me will ye already so we can get on our merry way!" he roared, his face reddening so much that the blood merely blended in. Shaking her head, Falcata stood and offered Beorn a hand that she knew very well he wouldn't take.
Lav'ael watched the young group of four as they left the village, their armor and weapons resting comfortably on their persons, their bags secured to their backs and their heads held high. Their laughter was carried back to him by the wind and he breathed it in, closing his eyes.
"Whatever Gods may be listening... Hear my prayers. Go, follow these four. They are young, they are naive, but they do not deserve pain. Help them along their way," he whispered. While not a very spiritual man, Lav'ael knew the workings of clerics and druid to be a powerful thing, but much was his surprise when a unicorn appeared on the trail before him and seemed to stare directly into his soul. The unicorn turned from him and slowly trotted down the path, dissapating into a colorful mist as it reached the edge of his vision. He blinked, unsure of whether he had been seeing things and when he looked again, the group of four and the massive wolf were gone. He could only hope that his prayers had truly been heard.
If only he knew who had been listening to them.