Upon reaching her destination, Ariana pushed one of the massive double doors open with her brute force. The hinges of the door were growing old and rusted- making the door creak annoyingly as it slowly opened. This was the place to be when all else seemed unbearable to ones own mind, or for when ones belly yearned for a hot meal-and ale to wash it down with. Needless to say, the Heartwood Tavern was a haven for adventurers and townsfolk alike from dawn until dusk.
The place was packed and even more lively than usual on this cool, spring evening. Elves formed the majority of the taverns populace, but strangers from lands abroad too filled the room, as Ariana noticed when she spied Humans, Halflings and even some Barbarians commuting together at the same little table close to the fire. Sadly, however, Ariana could see little more above the raging crowd that danced and swayed backed and forth from idle drunkenness as they pushed hard against her- making it rather difficult for her to even get through the front doors.
The tips of her ears flushed red and lowered slightly in frustration as she began to unwrap a tiny bundle that was tucked beneath her mud-covered, silver belt. She untied the little grass weave that wound tightly around the brown Terri-cloth and unfolded the pieces erratically as she clung on to the little pouch in order to make sure the contents didn't fall out. Before it was completely unfolded, Ariana removed one dried bat wing that felt as if it was covered with a light film of oil and held it before her eyes as she began to whisper beneath the roar of the crowds laughter.
As she spoke, the tiny wing she held in her hand began to glow a bright green and seemed to dissolve into her glove-covered hand. Weight instantly began to shift within Ariana's body- and she felt lighter than a cloud floating high in the heavens above. She could no longer feel the long-endured resistance beneath the soles of her thick, leather boots- and she suddenly gained a strange sense of height that she was quite unaccustomed to. Sure enough, Ariana floated higher in the room and now had amazed faces that were glancing upward as her floor. For a few moments she just floated above them as her eyes searched the far reaches of the room for the kindly face that should've been waiting her arrival as planned. Once the high-spirited Half Elf was found, Ariana smiled amusingly to the men below her feet and walked normally over to a worn, rectangular table that was nestled into the far corner- far away from the turmoil of the room.
"A lil' help please?" she asked as Mulidin stood from his darkened seat and reached high for her hand. He pulled her as close as he could manage to him and held on to her tight as she concentrated hard, refocused her weight, and dropped slightly as gravity once again grabbed hold of her Elven body. Slowly, he put her back upon the ground and pulled back the chair opposite his own for her to sit upon.
"Well, how'd your meeting with Master Heartwood go?" he asked as he grabbed his empty acrylic mug and sorrowfully looked at the lack of his golden colored liquor. Ariana shook her head angrily and lifted her boots upon the table as she began to rock back and forth in her chair. Once again, she un-tucked her pendent from her chest-piece and began to rub the star sapphire center raw. Mulidin watched her hand upon the trinket intently, and then lifted his green eyes back to Ariana's flushed ears.
"Ari? What happened up there?" he pursued again.
" Maesyn convinced him to disband me from the guild hall. From the second I left that building, I was no longer a Soldier of Tunare!" she shouted without looking Mulidin in the eye. She just stared angrily out at the happy faces across the room.
" Master Heartwood didn't object to it at all? I find that a bit 'ard to believe if you ask me."
"No, he actually agreed with Maesyn! He actually told me the reason he was doing it was because I can no longer benefit from his 'wisdom and guidance.' He even believes that so strongly that he has tied me into a foreign guild- and doesn't even tell me who it is that is in command of it. I don't even think he knows! It's givin' me a headache just thinking about it…. so for Tunare's sake could you just get me an ale?" she rambled as she bumped her head continuously on the worn edges of the back of her chair. Her slender ears perked up slightly as they picked up the sound of aggravation looming deep within a huddle of drunken Barbarians that were mumbling silly tales back and forth to one another and laughing hysterically. A miniature Halfling woman erupted past the knees of these "Gentle Giants of the North" and cursed sharply as she struggled regaining proper balance of a large bronze tray that teetered within her little hands.
"Bloody Barbarians! Watch where ye be stepping before I cut ye off at yer shins!" the roughneck woman shouted over her shoulder. Mulidin rushed over quickly to the worn Hobbit's side and carefully grabbed a hold of the mug-filled tray just seconds before the ale would've soaked the very ground upon which the little woman was to walk.
"Perhaps you should find some sturdier bar-maidens to do this type of work, Sophia." Mulidin chuckled as the Halfling tucked her ebony hair back into her golden-colored hair net.
"Nah, doing the dirty work keeps a few more gold in me pockets than if I 'ad another hand to pay." She chuckled as she looked at the blisters that were bubbling on top of her stubby, hairy toes. Sophia was a short, stalky woman – as most Halflings were with their merry bellies, and had her long ebony hair pulled back into a single, loose bun tied close to the top of her neck.
" I think ye already 'ad enough to drink, Ari…. looking awful ye are." Sophia pulled back the ale she was about to slide to Ariana to her tray as she looked at Ariana's dazed face.
"A foul evening can have the same effect on a person, and I'm afraid she's having one of the foulest." Mulidin protested as he gave Ariana his own frothy mug to drink from. With out a second thought, Ariana accepted and took a large first gulp and slammed the brew back down upon the table.
"Aye, I can tell. What Maesyn do this time?" she asked while Mulidin lifted a quirky smile at how everyone knew about the Ranger Elder and Ariana's constant brawls.
Ariana traced the brim of her mug with the tips of her fingers as she retold the story for a second time that evening. " Getting me in trouble as always…let me just sum it up for you and say I am no longer under Druidic guidance and now am a servant of "The Honorable." She said with sarcastic enthusiasm at the name of the dreaded guild.
"Oh, Ari…" Sophia whispered as she placed a caring hand upon the Druid's shoulder. Ariana shook her head and shoed the little Halfling's hand away.
"Maybe he's right…I just don't want to leave Kelethin behind. The city guards say there's still a threat for an Orcish raid…. if something were to happen I…" she began before Mulidin interrupted her quickly.
"What do you mean ' leaving Kelethin'?" If Ariana was to leave Kelethin it meant he would be left behind and possibly never able to see her again. Since the day they had met- they had been with one another each and every day without fail. Did she have to leave him? Was she going to leave him?
Ariana's eyes met his and she bit her lower lip realizing her stupidity of mentioning the subject. "It's a traveling party, Mulidin…I have to go with them."
"Me too, right? I mean- you and I are an unstoppable duo, remember? Master Heartwood told your guild leader that too, right?" he mumbled as he began to scoot his chair closer up to the table. Once again, Ariana turned her beautiful gaze away from his and stared back out into the busy crowd. Deep down within his heart he knew what she was going to say; he was sure he never wanted to hear it.
"I don't know, Muli. I suppose when I meet the man I could protest your addition…but if he refuses I'm not sure how I could escape fealty. Until then, don't worry…just Ari and Mulidin, remember?" she said as she linked her pinky with his and kissed the back of her fist. He tightened his grasp upon her rough hand and forced a smile upon his face to only lighten her mood. The two lifted their mugs and drank the golden brew heartily - ignoring the dismal mood that engulfed both of their spirits.
Once again, the massive tavern doors were thrown open with a beastly gust that tossed aside those who stood within the doors inward swinging path. Within the doorway stood three white-cloaked travelers who's faces were masked from the torchlights that lit the walls around them. One of these snowy beings seemed to be a giant by his size and had a long, wooden pipe from which miniature puffs of smoke billowed out from its red-hot center. Another too was slightly tall- and feminine in shape while the last was slender, and of obvious Elvish decent. Their satin cloaks seemed clean, and looked as if they were almost unused- fore there was no mud draped from the tips of the cloth that hovered gently above the ground.
"Evening, Masters! 'An welcome to the Heartwood Tavern!" shouted one of the courteous bartenders as he wiped his hands clean and brushed table scraps to the already messy ground.
The shortest traveler looked up to his two other companions and asked in Elvish what they wanted. The woman glanced up at the gigantic brute and whispered untranslatable words then looked back down at the elf and nodded in consent.
"We need one ale, a vodka, and a fruit juice please." The man said as he placed a cool, platinum coin within the bar tenders reach. After he made sure the coin was in safe keeping, the man turned and pulled back his white hood, revealing his handsome High-Elven face. His eyes gleamed like bright sapphires in the lantern light and contrasted greatly with the pale color of his skin and short platinum-white locks of hair. Shortly after, the other two satin-cloaked figures followed his lead and brushed back their hoods showing their much different faces and complexions.
The tallest of the three was indeed the mightiest Barbarian that had ever stepped through the short doors of the tavern in all its years of glory. Indeed he looked like a man no other would dare trifle with in fear that they would be broken in two just by a mere poke to their side. Yet the brutality of this man was somewhat questionable when one looked upon his hearty face. It was round and most definitely cheery with cheeks dotted by little brown freckles and masked by a full auburn beard that flowed like a mane.
The woman that stood close beside him was obviously of Erudite heritage- with her chocolaty brown skin and slightly elongated forehead. Her smile was sweet and polite as her lime green eyes peeked out from behind her golden bifocals and watched the chaos all around her. The sleek, coolness of her meek smile hinted at the greatness of her wisdom and intellect that rivaled all except for the infamous Al' Kabor.
"I do think our stay is going to be rather too short lived, Drevian. I am not used to such spirited customs- this city really is quite charming." The woman calmly chucked as she rested her palm upon the Barbarian man's bicep. He smiled back sweetly and wrapped his arms around her littler waist to pull her close.
"Aye," the elf spoke in answer as he rolled his dashing, blue eyes. " Nothing more charming than a bunch of careless, tree-loving, mongrels."
"Here we are, fair Lords! I 'ope they'll wet 'yer whistle!" The bartender chuckled before the Barbarian caught his attention with an accidentally violent tap on the shoulder. The elf cringed under the pressure and began to rub his shoulder raw while looking with fear in the Barbarian's eyes.
"For Keiarra, we say 'My Lady'." He boomed as a childish smile crept across his face that beamed from ear to ear. Keiarra covered her face with her gentle hands and laughed heartily at her friend.
"Zharden, my love, you really must stop that! You almost took the poor gentleman's arm off. You are quite a bit stronger than you tend to realize sometimes." Keiarra laughed as Zharden's cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment.
"Say there, Sir, 'ye actin' awfully jumpy t'night. Somtin' da matter with ye?" Zharden asked as he placed his battle-bruised hand upon Drevian's shoulder. Poor Drevian was so startled that the mug from which he drank fumbled slightly between his fingers before he calmed his nerves down and turned to face the multi- racial crowd. His eyes panned the room nervously—almost like a thief would while in disguise amongst a roomful of militiamen.
"Aye, I will be fine. It's just been awhile since I've even stepped foot on these forest grounds…" the elf mumbled under a sip of his frothy ale while his eyes wandered in deep thought.
"It has probably changed a great deal since you were a boy, Drevian. Do not let it trouble you so- these are still the same trees of the Faydark that harbored you from danger many a time, I presume." Keiarra smiled at her friend softly.
"That isn't what troubles me- it's the fact that this place hasn't changed one bit that does. The same crowd…the same laughter….even the same, sap-sweetened air makes me nervous."
"Not so many happy memories within these walls, I believe?" her brow wrinkled in worry as she placed her divine hand upon Drevian's back in sympathy. It was almost as if she was trying to steal all the thoughts that tumbled about chaotically from his very mind as she carefully noted the lost glance upon his pale face. He quickly broke from his trance after shrugging away her very touch and readjusted his posture to bring himself to be taller- trying to impress even himself.
"None that I can't handle…" he boasted. "I've just had many run-ins with our new addition that I don't look forward to remembering. Just believe me when I say this will not be a pleasant introduction."
No matter how calm Drevian made himself out to be, when the moment of truth finally came- Drevian's face turned even paler. A brief split in the crowd revealed an occupied table across the way where the very woman he dreaded finding sat- drowning her anger over numerous pints of ale that were beginning to pile on the tables edge. What made the situation even worse, was that she was not alone. The one factor Drevian had not counted on was the possibility that the Half- Elf that used to be Ariana's constant shadow still held that role.
"Perhaps now would not be a wise time to confront her…it is not polite to interrupt good company with petty business follies." Keiarra recommended as she took a delicate sip from her cup of juice. Behind her, Zharden chuckled heartily at the ghostly appearance of his elven friend when he slapped his back hard, three times in merriment.
"Seems 'ta me the company woun't matter…I 'lieve Pointy Ears is afraid of that there little one. 'An she looks 'ta be a perty little thing." Instantly, Drevian shot an icy glare up at the humored Barbarian and slammed his mug down hard upon the bar behind him.
"There is nothing even remotely frightening about that Druid, do you hear me!? As a matter of fact," he began as he dug a few silver coins out of his pack and tossed them onto the bar-top, "I am going to walk over there right now and make sure the rules are perfectly clear!"
He stormed on his way as the crowd began to huddle around the pair in silence to hear one of Mulidin's adventurous tales of exciting origin.
"It was about a hundred years ago when this unfortunate story began. A young Bard, much like myself, was a brilliant performer and a composer of songs unheard by most mortal ears. Yet unlike most Bards, this man was a wanderer- treading the never ending plains of Karana perfecting his song and playing for his supper." Mulidin started as the crowd encircled them tightly with eager eyes that pierced him from all directions. The tavern-folk appeared to be almost mesmerized by Mulidin's captivating voice as not one of them said a single word or took a deep breath- just out of fear they would mask his own, humble speech.
"This is the one about Kelkarn, isn't it?" Ariana laughed out of a drunken haze. Casually, Mulidin smiled back at his worn companion and nodded before continuing his unhappy tale.
"One lonely night, poor Kelkarn was caught in one of the Karana's horrific storms that would inspire fear into the hearts of even the bravest of men. He roamed blindly for hours seeking out some form of shelter that could harbor him until the storm wore itself out- and as luck would've had it, he stumbled upon a small wagon with warm lights peaking out like a shining beacon through two miniature windows. But luck would soon turn tides against him…"
"Dear Kelkarn was taken in by the ancient dweller of the wagon- and for this, he was forever grateful. So when the crone asked him to listen to a piece of music she herself had begun, he could not refuse."
"The woman unwrapped a gorgeous lute completely inlaid with opal and began to play her song. Yet this song she played was strange and chaotic- something Kelkarn never heard in all his time of composing. The old woman then stopped in mid song and promised the lute to Kelkarn if only he could finish the song in her stead. Being a gracious guest…he accepted…. and sealed his own doomed fate."
"What happened next, laddie? The ol' woman chop 'im to bits?" a noble dwarf threw in excitingly before Mulidin could continue on with his tale. Sweet Mulidin took no offence to the interruption and kindly shook his head and continued yet again to keep his anxious crowd from waiting anymore.
"Almost instantly, the song he was set to finish drove Kelkarn to insanity. Growing tired of the lack of inspiration, he convinced himself quickly that the only way he would receive it was to pay for it by spilt blood. Many wanderers of the plains lost their lives that very night at the hands of Kelkarn and his demonic melody."
"For weeks the murders continued- and finally one night…inspiration came to him and he finished the song. Unfortunately, he finished it on the very night he was captured and sent to death."
"Before he was sent off to die, however, he was once again greeted by the crone who sent him to his doom. After handing the lute to his chained hands, she vanished- never to be seen again. Still demonically crazed, he played the song over and over again- driving away the guard who feared the dreaded tune. When the music finally stopped, the guards sent for him…. Only to find melted flesh upon the ground beneath a pile of bloody bones made of glistening opal. The dear Bard, even then, did not find peace…fore his bones were reincarnated…. and now he still lives as the undead within an inn in the dark city of Paineel to play the song that took so many innocent lives…" Mulidin finished quietly before a loud outburst echoed from beside him. He blushed lightly as the entire crowd cheered at his magnificent tale so loud that travelers upon the dark, forest floor could have possibly heard the clapping. However not all within the tavern that peaceful night appreciated the story- or the storyteller himself.
"I see you're still telling your ridiculous myths." Drevian laughed coldly as he continued over to their tableside while keeping a nervous hand on the pouch of money that was still tied tightly to his glistening belt. The entire crowd ceased their merriment and glared coldly at the haughty elf for interrupting the good fun they had spent much money on having.
In shock, Mulidin turned his attention upward at the approaching man and chuckled quietly at his disbelief of such a legendary tale. "I assure you, good sir, that my tales are no myths. A Bard's tale is never a lie- just a truth told in a creative manor."
The man laughed heartily to himself then spat on the worn wooden floors beneath his wooden feet while Mulidin still kept calm even after such a horrible insult. Unfortunately for Drevian, his laughter was to be short lived when another elf recognized it from years past, and a dark memory all but forgotten was relived. His laughter sank deep to the drums of her already aching inner ear and caused them to perk up high and flush a fiery red that upheld her name. Something within her mind clicked just then, and a flash of traumatic memories raced through her mind without leaving a single detail misplaced. Ariana remembered that haughty laughed- and hated it with her entire being. With a fluid grace, she thrusted her chair a few feet back and unsheathed her blade only to rest it upon the familiar elf's throat where it scratched his pale, throat.
"This is no good sir, Mulidin." She growled hoarsely through her teeth while pressing her scimitar harder against his neck. Almost the entire room tensed up in a nervous silence around the two as they glowered at each other- neither of them quivering in fear. Drevian gulped lightly and manage to summon up the courage to show off yet another one of his infamous smirks that taunted even the strongest of men. "I find it a bit strange to think you found the nerve to bring your filth close to my presence again."
"I find it strange to think that you should call me 'filth', yet I am not the one with caked mud upon my boots and dirt smeared across my face." He mocked, before he growled and pressed her sword even harder against the knick in his throat. The rage that lingered within her eye was frightening to all those who dared to stare deep enough to find it.
"Speak again, De'Lerick- I will have no guilt shackled to my spirit for your death. My end will not be such as yours…."
Instinctively, Drevian whispered words untranslatable to Ariana's ears and slyly positioned his hand near her small frame. A strange static was drawn to his lanky fingertips and glowed brightly as it was passed on from his palm into her unprepared body- where it raced through her veins and staggered her heartbeat until she fell over in pain. Yet this bold action proved to be rather short lived when another slip of cold steel caressed his neck muscles and his body pulled back in a lock beneath Mulidin's mighty arms. Drevian's life would have been forfeited at that very moment is Mulidin would've proceeded with his duty if it weren't for Zharden's massive, glowing blades and Keiarra's spell lingering upon the tip of her elegant tongue.
"Easy now, ladies. All we did come here for was a nice meeting- not a dual to the death, mind ye'. These poor folk are all up in shambles now!" Zharden pleaded as he outstretched his beastly hand and patted Mulidin's thin shoulder. Not knowing how to react, Mulidin remained frozen and looked towards Ariana for some sort of instruction on how to play his next move. With staggered breaths, she managed to nod lightly for him to remove his sword from the man's throat. Hesitantly, he did such, and rushed to her side to help her off of the ground.
Keiarra sighed loudly and glared over at Drevian for his childish introduction and too proceeded to Ariana to help sit her down into the nearest chair. Ignoring the help, Ariana remained glaring coldly at Drevian still furious from a past most have long forgotten, but still remained in Ariana's mind like a haunting nightmare that refused to end. Only three people within that room that night fully understood the reason behind Ariana's unforgiving eyes….after all it happened long ago on such a horrible, horrible day….that day that not even Drevian was allowed to forget.
"A lifetime of apologies Lady Heartwood, you must forgive my companion for upsetting you so…I am sure he is most humbly sorry for his rotted tongue," Keiarra began, " I am most certain that the Clergy within his temple did not teach him to speak in such a manor." At the very mention of the name, Ariana's spirit froze and she mumbled out very quietly, " It is Blaze….not Heartwood."
"Lady Blaze, then…" Keiarra replied back as her cheeks blushed ever so lightly with embarrassment beneath her hood. " My name is Keiarra Quellion, and the warrior behind me is Zharden." She finished with placing her frail hand upon her forehead and lowering it down with a slight bend of her neck. Such was a custom of Erudites as a sign of the utmost respect given as a greeting or thanks for some deed bestowed upon them.
With a broad and merry smile Zharden grasped hold of Ariana's hand and shook it more violently than his mighty hand had intended. "Aye, 'tis Zharden Soulblade- King of the Tundra and the frost-bitten lands of the North!" The child-like answer caused Keiarra to laugh quietly and shake her head in denial of his imaginative claims. Though he was mighty, Zharden himself lacked the furry to hold such untamed lands with a strong hand…the Barbarian could hardly keep himself from wrestling like a child with the wild snow-wolves that roamed the snowy plains.
Mulidin brushed his stray, dark hairs out away from his heavenly green eyes and bowed humbly before the three. " Mulidin Songbird." He shyly whispered out. Both bowed back to him graciously and turned their gaze back to Drevian and Ariana who were both still eyeing each other with utter disgust.
"Well this is quite quaint, sincerest apologizes, my friends. Had I known that the Ayr' Dal still clung to Blaze's side I would've spared you the grief of venturing here. Unfortunately we have no need for his expertise…" Drevian announced as he began to straighten the fabric of his cloak as if his words were easily understood. However, Ariana immediately replied back with curiosity. What had he meant that he would not need Mulidin? What was it he was in need of? She raised her brow in question and grasped a hold of her seat tightly while her nerves wracked in fear. There was no way…..Master Heartwood must have known.
"It would have been much easier on us all if he was no longer a significant part of your life. But considering the miracle that he still is, I'm afraid you can no longer be spared the pain of an unwanted goodbye." Casually Drevian explained with an emotionless face. Both Ariana's and Mulidin's hearts sank from the words which he spoke…the meaning was becoming quite clear. Conversations from before echoed again within Ariana's mind about her new guild-leader and his brave companions and set her anger aflame even more than before. 'He wouldn't dare….not this man….not this man of all people.'
"No." she began quietly as Drevian nodded in return. The one man in all of Norrath who Ariana wished dead above all, was now the man to whom her allegiance had been sworn…and the same man she was to protect at all costs. Yet this was not the only news that darkened Ariana's spirits further into a despair that she had not felt in a long time. Now, she knew, that the 'unwanted goodbye' was not only meaning her departure from her beloved Kelethin; it meant that she too was leaving behind the only faithful friend she had ever known besides one of wild origins.
"We depart from here tomorrow shortly after the sun has settled behind the forests mid-morning haze. I suggest you have matters taken care of by then so we may be off rather quickly, fore the darker forest floors through which we must head are dangerous at the darker hours of the night." Drevian told Ariana as she stared off angrily shaking her head in disbelieve of her ill luck upon this day. "And Mulidin," Drevian began again as they turned upon their exit, " it would be to your best interest to not follow where your presence is not needed. She comes alone."
Quickly, Mulidin shot a desperate glance at Ariana- waiting for her protest that never rose out from her mouth and into the ears of the High Elf. In such a situation there was truly nothing she could do in order to change this order….and now Mulidin began to understand that. He solemnly reached out her hand to touch her but was harshly pushed away as she erupted from her seat and fought her way out the doors of the tavern- knocking men three times her size close to the ground in her uncontrollable rage. They dared not to try to regain there steps and curse at the elf for her lack of respect, fore they knew close behind would be Mulidin, going after her to promise that everything would be all right for yet another time.