Something soft brushed against Lielay's cheek and she slowly woke from her deep sleep. Her deep green eyes opened and the first thing she saw was a furry orange cat sitting on her chest, staring at her. It jumped down when it noticed Lielay awake. She sat up, confused. The last thing she remembered was sinking into the marshes, giving into Death.
But now she was sitting in a warm, cozy bed with a roaring fire in the hearth and the sweet smell of something roasting filling her nose. Shakily, Lielay rose to her feet and steadied herself by placing her hand on the wooden wall beside her. There was no one else in the one-roomed house, only her and the orange cat that was now curled up by the fire.
Lying on a chair by the blazing flames were her clothes. Lielay quickly looked down at her body, hoping she wasn't naked. She wasn't, whoever rescued her from the marshes had changed her out of her wet clothes and into a night shift meant for a man. Lielay felt very awkward, someone had seen her naked and, by the gods, could have done anything to her, being so vulnerable.
The only door of the cabin squeaked open and an elderly human man with white wispy hair hobbled in with an armload of wood. His back was bent with years of hard labor and old age and he limped due to his right leg being crippled in an accident many years ago. He didn't notice Lielay standing until she took a step forward and cleared her throat. "Ah, good to see you up and moving. Thought you weren't going to make it at first." He smiled a welcoming look.
"How long have I been asleep?" Her voice was rough and scratchy.
"Two days." He answered simply and went about to get her a cup of water.
"Thank you, sir." Lielay gratefully accepted the ceramic cup filled to the brim with cool water and drank it all in one sip.
The man refilled it and placed the pitcher on the nightstand next to them. "So, what were you doing in the marshes?" He asked while seating himself in front of the fire. The orange car leapt into his lap and went back to sleep.
Lielay paused, wondering if she should tell her rescuer the truth…might as well. She thought to herself. "I was running."
"Running from what, if you don't mind my asking." He stroked the cat lovingly.
"My captors. See, I'm from Kelethin, kind sir, and a while back I was caught by old rivals." He sat down in the chair across from him and was unable to stop herself from telling him all about her imprisonment. "I used to be a druid, but these two dark elves made me drink this potion that rendered my powers useless. I've never heard of such a potion before. Was then taken to a high elf by the name of Papsworth who mentally tortured me and left notes and clues for my rescuers, leading them on a wild chase. He thinks this is all a game. He's dragged me all over Norrath, along with his three lackeys; the two dark elves, a male and a female; and," Lielay shivered despite the roaring fire beside her, "a barbarian."
She then went into detail about the places they went and the tasks her rescuers were meant to perform in order to receive the next clue.
"My gentle lady, you are safe now." The man, who had introduced himself as Caliek, reached across and took Lielay's hand in his while smiling.
And Lielay did, at last, feel safe.
The small, dark tunnels of Kaladim made the fellowship of rescuers feel too large to enter. The stout beaded folk that called this place home, eyed the group curiously, since they were such an odd company; a half-elf, a human, two iksars, a wood elf, and a talking griffin. The tavern they looked for turned out to be a lot harder to find than they had expected and it didn't help with Tegid trying to lead them, claiming that he knew where it was. The others began to doubt if the wood-elf had ever been in Kaladim like he said. They wandered, hopelessly lost, stumbling in the low tunnels, receiving strange and annoyed looks from the dwarves around for what seemed like hours before a gruff voice called to them from behind. "Come this way, if ye want yer clue." A barrel-chest dwarf with red hair and a red beard waved over the six from a side tunnel.
They obeyed, so used to strangers coming up to them and telling them commands since this chase had began. The dwarf was silent the rest of the short journey to a dismal tavern where a crowd of dwarves were already waiting. "Hope we don't have to fight them." Aubrey muttered to his friends.
The red-beaded dwarf came to an abrupt stop and say heavily into a chair around a large circular table. He motioned for the others to sit, except for Kel, he would have to sit on the ground. "Moraine!" The dwarf shouted before turning to the rescuers. "Well, I know ye don't want to be here, and I sure don't want ye here in my tunnels, so let' get this over with fast."
What the group assumed to be a female dwarf, stood beside the table holding a large tray of drinks.
"My name is Braunik and the rules of the game are simple: whoever can out drink me wins and ye get the clue." Braunik reclined in his seat.
"That's it?" Aubrey, who was accustomed to spending days in the tavern drinking to his heart's content, was a little surprised at how easy this task was going to be,
"Right, there will be six rounds, five glasses per round. If ye pass out or throw yer guts up, yer disqualified. If you cheat or back down yer disqualified. So, let's get started." Braunik rubbed his hands together and waited for Moraine to pass out the first glass of the first round.
"Honey mead." Moraine, the barkeep and owner of the tavern, said shortly before returning behind the counter and filling up six more glasses of alcohol.
"Sorry Kel, but I don't think you can help with this task." Brand leaned over to the griffin and patted his golden head.
"Not a prrroblem." Kel, who seemed quite pleased, relaxed and spread himself out on the ground, resting his head upon his forelegs.
Time passed quickly in Brand's opinion as he gulped down his third class of elven wine. They were in the fourth round and so far Slith and Mirk had been disqualified. Slith for swaying and falling out of his chair where he proceeded to lose his breakfast all over the shoes of the spectators; and Mirk who flat out refused to drink anymore after the last glass of the third round. "Oh, my, I'm not really a heavy drinker." Tegid repeated again for the fifth time. "My wife made me give up my drinking when I came home one night and almost fell off the platform in Kelethin. She didn't want to find me dead one morning due to me being intoxicated."
Brand had heard this story many times before…mostly in the past hour.
Moraine came back and placed another full glass of elven wine in front of the half-elf. The room spun. Brand held his head and moaned aloud, bringing laughs from some of the dwarves watching. "Can't hold his liquor." And "Poor, delicate, elf-boy, can't keep up with the men." Was heard from some of the assemblage.
The room spun faster and something vile was rising in the bard's throat. "Oh, make it stop!" More laughing answered him. Brand tried to clear his senses, but it was impossible. He had never drunk that much before in his whole life. It was his human blood giving into the after effects of alcohol, not his elven. His elven blood could have made him last much longer, but too bad he was only half-elven. "I need to go!" Brand got to feet and rushed around the spinning room, not knowing he was running in circles. He tripped over Kel and his face broke the fall. He moaned and closed his eyes, unable to stay awake anymore.
"Well, now it's down to two." Braunik chuckled as he drained another glass.
It had come to it now, the last round. Aubrey and Tegid were still holding in there even after the first three glasses of the powerful dwarven ale. They had endured honey mead, ale, Minotaur Hero's Brew, elven wine, gnomish ale, and now dwarven ale.
"Just a few more glasses, me friends." Braunik giggled and managed to slur out.
"I'm going to beat you, dwarf, I'm—" Aubrey never finished, his head crashed down onto the table and he slid down to the floor.
Mirk ran over to check on him. "He'sss only sssleeping. Passssssed out." The iksar hissed and kicked the unconscious human over to the corner where he had put Slith and Brand.
"Down to you and down to me, elf." Braunik said after slowly drinking the fourth glass. "This is me favorite drink, I'd like to see you keep up with me."
Tegid just nodded his head while sipping the foam off the new glass Moraine had given him. Braunik belched loudly after finishing off the fifth glass. The dwarf's eyes were red and puffy and his face was flushed. He was also swaying gently from side to side like one would when on a ship. "See, elf, no one, and I mean no one can beat me, I bet ye can't even finish that drink in yer hand, hehe…" Braunik clutched his stomach. "I'm not feeling to well." And, in truth, he wasn't. Braunik leaned on the table, his foreherad in his hands. "Stay down." He muttered to himself. But it happened anyway. Braunik turned to the side and lost the contents of his stomach bringing groans of disappointment from the crowd.
The meantime, Tegid was wiping his mouth free of the foam that escaped his glass as he drank it in one gulp. "Well, I say, I do feel a bit drowsy, but this is nothing to what I used to do in my drinking days. Try polishing off five whole crates of elven wine, my weak stomached dwarf friend." The wood elf stood up and stretched his arms. "I'm tired." Was all he said.
Everyone watching was astonished. This tall, skinny elf had out drank Braunik.
"Here's yer letter." Moraine walked over to Tegid and handed him a familiar looking letter.
"Let'sss wait until Brand wakesss up, we don't want to rob him of his duty of reading the letter aloud. I think he'sss quite fond of doing it." Mirk laughed and put his scaly arm around Tegid's shoulder. "Let'sss go get sssome fresssh air while the othersss wake up. Kel will watch over them."
As the two were walking out, the dwarves heard Tegid ask, "I hope we don't have to pay for our drinks, that would be aweful…"
