Jessi: A delayed chapter because I caught the flu. Damn you Winter!
Solaufein entered the tavern, the angry expression on his face making the rest of the patrons hurriedly drop their gazes to their drinks. The fighter-mage barely noticed, focused on his new task... however much it galled him.
Find some mercenaries! What was he? A recruitment officer?
Cheers and catcalls came from the arena. There was an unusually large crowd today...
The dark elf drew closer, finding a clear vantage point by climbing onto an empty table and stepping from that into a small alcove set into the wall.
Down in the pit were two figures, one female, a priestess from the clerical robes and the immense spider that adorned her shield, and the other male. This one wore red half-plate armour, but Solaufein's eyes were drawn to the weapon he was using. It was an immense sword, almost as long as its wielder. Entwined carvings ran down the blade and the hilt was elaborate and made from a shimmering golden metal.
It looked much too awkward to use, especially compared to his own two weapons or to the flail and shield that the priestess in the pit was using.
The priestess was armed with a flail and she struck out with it. Uriel dodged nimbly, the wicked spikes passing just a hair's-breath from his head. His strike missed the female who danced backwards, chanting. It was a spell, of course.
A glowing circle came into being to the left of the former paladin, the radiance taking on a shape that was becoming increasingly familiar the more time the disguised elf spent here. In seconds Uriel now had two opponents to worry about, the drow priestess and a massive black spider.
Backing off he kept both of them were he could see them, his blade held out in front of him to deflect any incoming attacks. In it came quickly, the spider launching itself at Uriel.
Quickly he moved his sword so that all the spider succeeded in doing was wrapping itself around the blade. Blood seeped out from the joint of its legs where it was holding onto the blade. Its ugly, many-eyed face glared at the disguised elf, the claws at its mouth clicking malevolently. In response Uriel struck with his gauntleted fist, the hairy flesh yielding with every blow. Yet the spider hung on, its extra weight dragging the sword down. The priestess gave a soft, light chuckle that only added to her sinisterness.
That chuckle swiftly turning into an furious shriek as the former paladin's dagger, an emergency weapon kept on his belt, embedded itself into the spider's head. The creature gave of a high-pitched wail, falling to the floor, where its legs twitched and spasmed before it died.
Uriel grinned, both hands on the hilt of his weapon and he raised it to bring it down onto the priestess...
Grey strands shot from her hands. They fastened to his limbs, freezing them into place. Thick, sticky cables wound themselves around his body. A web spell!
From her belt the dark elf female took a dagger of her own, shaped like a spider, the legs curving down to form the blade.
"Lloth accept the heart of this male! Drag his screaming soul down to the Demonweb Pits for daring to strike down-"
The immense blade of the disguised elf abruptly glowed. To the sensitive eyes of the dark elves, it was brighter than the sun at noon. Screaming, the priestess scrambled backwards, clutching her eyes. She didn't move fast enough.
Carsomyr's sharp edge tore through the drow's body, the plate mail she wore barely halting it. Uriel sheathed the sword, his skin still carrying a slight glow from the Dispel Magic ability of his weapon.
A little while later, the disguised elf sat at the bar, Carsomyr laid out on the counter in front of him and a glass of golden liquid in his hand. He took a sip of liquor as he studied the blade.
It had been preying on his mind all day but... he was no longer a paladin of Tyr. Surprisingly it didn't upset him much, though he supposed this could be an effect of the alcohol.
What puzzled him was how he could still use the Holy Avenger sword, Carsomyr. The sun elf stared at the elaborate carvings on the blade as if searching for answers there.
The Bhaalspawn had just decided on finishing his drink and retiring to his room when a smooth voice spoke to him from his right,
"I saw you fight in the arena."
Uriel turned slightly in his seat, his eyes widening slightly.
Ooo! He's lovely! The former paladin sipped his drink, simultaneously reminding himself that, as beautiful as the other male was, he was still a drow. His traitorous brain ignored him in favour of noticing the smooth, supple skin of the stranger's neck visible above the collar of his shirt.
"Do you want an autograph?" Good effort on not drooling Uriel, he thought to himself.
A snort escaped the dark elf,
"Don't flatter yourself," he tossed his hair over one shoulder absently, "You are part of the party from Ched Nassad."
Uriel nodded, and was about to introduce himself when the stranger continued,
"Tomorrow you will meet myself and a handmaiden at the entrance plaza. I suggest you prepare yourself for combat," with that he began to stalk off through the crowd.
"And if I want to find you before then?" the words were out of Uriel's mouth before he could stop them.
The dark elf turned looking at him curiously then he spoke,
"Ask at the Male Fighter's Guild. My name is Solaufein."