Hello all, it's Andee. It's been a year since I've posted a chapter. Sorry for the big hiatus, I've been busy working and just living in general and getting lost in the habit of working, then side hustling, then having a life outside of work and I've been very busy. Just a few days ago I just had some free time where I decided to start writing again. I'll try to post consistently again, so be patient with me!
For now, enjoy this chapter!
"Tell me, what happened here?" Elrid asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
The man looked up to Elrid, his weary expression easing as he encountered such rare empathy. "No one expresses such concern for the Fae around here," he remarked, grateful for Elrid's presence. "My name is Herc Adwold, I'm the warden."
Elrid extended a hand in greeting, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Pleasure to meet you, Herc. Though I must admit, I'm rather upset by this unsettling incident." He gestured toward the injured Fae, their delicate form lying vulnerable before them. "Could you shed some light on what happened?"
Herc leaned closer, his voice hushed with a mixture of bewilderment and frustration. "It appears the Fae were targeted with a dagger, a malicious act that has left us all perplexed. While the village often faces assaults from the Red Legion, a notorious faction, they typically set their sights on human travelers. This deviation raises more questions than answers."
Elrid's brow furrowed in contemplation. "Curious indeed. But could the Tuatha be involved? I've just come from Allestar Tower, which was attacked by the Tuatha.
Herc's eyes widened at the mention of the Tuatha. "Ah, yes, the enigmatic Tuatha. I had heard whispers of their recent sightings in the nearby western woods. Although it is very concerning that they are this far into Odarath, I highly doubt they would stoop to attacking the Fae directly. There must be another force at play."
Determined to lend a helping hand, Elrid's voice carried on. "There must be a way to help her, Herc. Do you have any ideas?"
Herc nodded in agreement. "Perhaps seeking the wisdom of Aery is our best course of action. She's a wise Fae who keeps a watchful eye on the village from her perch north of town. Her insight may unveil the secrets behind this plight."
With a grateful smile, Elrid clasped Herc's shoulder in gratitude. "Thank you, Herc. Your guidance is invaluable. I will speak to Aery and try to figure out a way to help."
As Elrid exited Gorhart and ventured through the dense foliage of Odarath, a realm teeming with untamed beauty, he couldn't help but feel a sense of cautious wonder. The ancient trees whispered secrets of forgotten lore, their gnarled branches reaching towards the heavens as if seeking solace in the sunlight that danced through the canopy above.
With each step, Elrid's senses sharpened, his ears attuned to the subtle rustling of leaves and the distant melody of hidden streams. The air was thick with the scent of moss and earth, carrying the ethereal fragrance of many magical creatures that called this realm their home.
Yet, amidst the serenity, danger lurked. A sudden rustle in the underbrush snapped his attention to the presence of danger lurking nearby. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his unsheathed, rusted longsword. The once lively woods fell eerily silent, unsettling his nerves. In an instant, a group of Boggarts emerged, their beady eyes gleaming with mischief as they formed a tight circle around Elrid, eager to pounce.
With a determined grimace, Elrid squared his stance, raising his kite shield to ward off incoming attacks. The Boggarts, their diminutive frames belied their agility, darted around Elrid with lightning speed, their shrill cackles filling the air. As the battle unfolded, Elrid's limited swordsmanship skills were exposed, leaving him vulnerable to their frenzied assault.
With each swing of his blade, his movements lacked the grace and precision necessary to outmatch his adversaries. The Boggarts, seizing the opportunity, capitalized on his novice fighting style, ducking and weaving past his desperate strikes. Their sharp claws grazed his arms and legs, drawing lines of crimson across his flesh. Despite the pain and mounting frustration, Elrid fought on, his determination flickering like a steadfast flame amidst the chaotic dance of the skirmish.
He knew he had to adapt quickly, his survival depending on his ability to match the swift, erratic movements of the Boggarts with calculated strikes of his own.
Refusing to succumb to their crazy barrage, Elrid capitalized on the forest's surroundings to gain an advantage. As the Boggarts lunged once again, he skillfully maneuvered his body, utilizing the gigantic trees and their big roots that marred the ground around their bases as makeshift barriers. He danced between the trunks, employing evasive footwork to dodge their strikes. The Boggarts, momentarily disoriented by the dense foliage, stumbled and crashed into the obstacles that worked in Elrid's favor.
Taking advantage of these brief moments of reprieve, Elrid counterattacked with measured strikes, relying on brute force rather than refined technique. His sword swung with a raw determination, slashing and hacking at the Boggarts. Despite his lack of finesse, the weight of the longsword and his sheer determination behind each blow proved effective, felling the creatures one by one.
The clash of metal against wood reverberated through the forest as Elrid's sword clashed with the Boggarts. His leather armor absorbed several more feeble strikes, offering minimal protection against the ferocious onslaught. Blood trickled from a few shallow cuts, evidence of his adversaries' brief successes.
Fueled by a mix of adrenaline and desperation, Elrid tapped into his mysterious ability that he found back when he woke up in the Alestar Tower. He didn't know exactly how it all worked - he just felt this surge of energy and knew that if he channeled his thoughts into this feeling, it would work.
Crackling energy surged through his veins, charging the air around him with an electric intensity. With a powerful swing of his sword, he unleashed bolts of lightning, arching through the air with deadly accuracy. The remaining Boggarts fell victim to the crackling bolts, their mischievous lives extinguished in a cacophony of sparks and smoke.
Breathing heavily, Elrid surveyed the aftermath of the skirmish. The once dense circle of Boggarts now lay defeated, scattered amidst the undergrowth. A mix of relief and triumph washed over him, tempered by the realization of the challenge that still lay ahead. Adjusting his grip on the sword, he continued his determined trek towards the cliff, where Aery awaited, knowing that each battle would only serve to forge him into a more formidable warrior.
As he approached, he witnessed the graceful Fae perched atop the precipice, her radiant form shimmering in the soft sunlight. Aery's eyes, gleaming with ancient knowledge, fixed upon Elrid as he neared her.
"You bear a countenance unfamiliar to my eyes," Aery spoke, her voice carrying a melodic cadence. "Unlike those of Gorhart, who never cease to amuse me. I strive to learn all I can from them. Have you come seeking knowledge about the Tuatha? I can offer only what I know and hope it will suffice."
Elrid nodded respectfully, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and concern. "A Fae has been grievously injured, and I seek your guidance to aid her healing. Please, if there is any wisdom you can share, I am eager to listen."
Aery's gaze held a touch of sadness as she responded, her voice laced with enigmatic wisdom. "Indeed, I bear witness to this crime, though the identity of the perpetrator eludes me. It is often difficult to distinguish one mortal from another in these troubling times. The victim, Iluvia, was a name known to me, but beyond that, my knowledge is limited. You must understand that if her fate aligns with the Great Cycle, it is not within my power to alter it."
Elrid's voice tinged with urgency. "I understand, but I cannot stand idly by. I must explore every possibility to save her. Is there any remedy, any mortal intervention that could aid her recovery?"
Aery's gaze shifted, her curiosity piqued by Elrid's unwavering determination. "I have always wondered whether one of my kind would benefit from your mortal remedies, although they would need to be potent indeed. Your delicate forms are far more sensitive than ours, and it is astounding that you endure as long as you do."
Elrid met Aery's gaze with unwavering resolve. "Tell me, where can I find such a powerful remedy?"
Aery considered his request, her voice resonating with a mix of wisdom and intrigue. "While I cannot provide a way to obtain the remedy you seek, I have noticed that Gorhart possesses a town alchemist by the name of Nanne Hanri. Her shop, the Golden Age, stands tall at the heart of the main square, a three-story building that is hard to miss. Perhaps she can assist you on this quest."
Elrid expressed his gratitude to Aery, his determination reinforced by her guidance. He knew that time was of the essence, and without delay, he turned his steps towards Gorhart's main square, where the Golden Age awaited.
Not half an hour later, Elrid found himself standing amidst a shop that emanated the scent of alchemical ingredients—a heady mix of herbs, potions, and mysterious concoctions that tickled the senses - some in a good, others in a bad way. The air crackled with an undercurrent of energy, as if the very walls of the establishment had absorbed ancient secrets within their timeworn grains. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of vibrant hues upon the myriad of objects that cluttered the shelves.
Within this enigmatic setting, a small figure darted back and forth, her diminutive frame barely reaching Elrid's chest. It was a female dwarf, her rugged features etched with tiredeness, her braided hair flowing with every hurried step. The intensity in her eyes flickered between worry and frustration as she caught sight of Elrid, her brows furrowing with urgency. Closing the distance in quick strides, she wasted no time bombarding him with a rapid-fire series of questions.
"Do you feel nauseous? Itchy? Any signs of blood leaking from your eye sockets? I've been observing these symptoms everywhere," she interrogated, her voice laced with anxiety. Each question spilled from her lips with the urgency of a ticking clock, as if the fate of the world rested on Elrid's answers. Before he could gather his thoughts to respond, she continued, her words tinged with despair.
"This situation could not be any worse. If the Red Legion is involved, we could all be staring death in the face. What have I done?" she muttered to herself, her voice carrying the weight of regret. The lines on her weathered face deepened, revealing the burden she carried.
Elrid, determined to stay focused on his mission despite the dwarf's frantic ramblings, chose to push aside the whirlwind of thoughts and quickly explained the purpose of his visit. His words flowed forth, his voice tinged with urgency as he recounted Aery's guidance, the dire state of Iluvia, and the desperate need for a remedy to heal her wounds.
Nanne Hanri, the dwarf alchemist, sighed heavily, her gaze shifting to meet Elrid's. The lines on her face softened, revealing a mixture of exhaustion and resignation. "I am certain I have a vial somewhere in this cluttered shop," she began, her voice tinged with weariness. "But time is a luxury I cannot afford. My mind is plagued with the weight of this issue, and I apologize for my current state and my inability to assist you further. Now, if there is nothing else you require, please excuse me, I need to figure this out." she said, her tone curt as she abruptly turned away, her troubled thoughts consuming her once again.
Elrid watched her depart, as the alchemical scents mingled in the air, he steeled himself, knowing that time was slipping away, and the fate of Iluvia rested in his hands alone.
Elrid was left standing amidst the alchemical chaos of the Golden Age, a sense of dread burning within him. He knew that he could not depend solely on the assistance of others, that the fate of Iluvia rested in his hands. With resolute determination, he began to scour the shop, meticulously searching through the cluttered shelves and dusty corners, his eyes scanning for any sign of the elusive vial.
He found himself immersed in the alchemical mess that was the Golden Age, his determination fueling his search. His eyes scanned the cluttered shelves, searching for any sign of the elusive vial that contained the potent remedy he sought. Time seemed to slip away as he meticulously examined vials filled with various liquids, hoping to recognize the one he needed through intuition alone.
After what felt like an eternity, Elrid realized that his approach was wrong. He needed guidance, a clue that would lead him to the remedy he sought. Seeking respite from the overwhelming array of vials, he took a seat at one of the nearby tables so that he can rest for a bit, where books were scattered haphazardly. His hands reached out instinctively, picking up one of the tomes that lay before him.
As he flipped through the pages, his eyes were greeted with descriptions and illustrations of various herbs and their applications in alchemy. It was in one of these books that he stumbled upon a revelation. A drawing of a dark purple leaf caught his attention, accompanied by the words "Black Cohosh" inscribed above it.
A surge of excitement coursed through Elrid's veins as he read further. The book detailed the long-known medicinal properties of Black Cohosh roots, explaining that when shredded and combined with other reagents, such as Embereyes and Bloodroot they could imbue a potion with the essence of good health. On the side of the book, there was handwritten scrible which said "Write a detailed recipe and add it to the chest downstairs."
Elation filled Elrid's being. "That's it!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the empty shop. "Black Cohosh! If I can find the ingredients and a recipe, I can create the healing potion on my own instead of searching for something that I don't know what looks like!"
Determined to gather the necessary components, Elrid delved into the sea of books before him. Hours passed by, the sunlight waning beyond the shop's windows, as he painstakingly absorbed knowledge about the required ingredients and their preparation. He devoured descriptions of various plantations, meticulously noting down the intricacies of acquiring Black Cohosh leaves, Embereyes, and Bloodroot.
Finally, armed with newfound knowledge and visual depictions ingrained in his mind, as well as his notes, Elrid rose from his seat. He surveyed the shop with renewed purpose, his eyes now focused on locating the elusive ingredients that held the key to creating the potion.
Carefully, he maneuvered through the cluttered shelves, searching for Black Cohosh leaves. His fingers brushed against glass vials, alchemical equipment, and the occasional forgotten trinket. The air in the shop seemed to hum with anticipation, as if recognizing the significance of Elrid's quest, or maybe it was his imagination.
Minutes turned into an hour as he methodically scoured every corner, his determination unwavering. Then, as if fate had finally smiled upon him, after what was smelling, touching and probing countless herbs, he spotted a small wooden crate tucked away beneath a dusty shelf. With trembling hands, he pried open the lid, revealing a treasure trove of Black Cohosh leaves. Their deep, purple hue was mesmerizing.
Buoyed by this initial success, Elrid's search continued. He navigated the labyrinthine aisles of the Golden Age, guided by the knowledge he had acquired. He found Embereyes in a delicate glass jar. The description the books gave was that their fiery red petals captured the essence of vitality. And finally, tucked away in a locked cabinet, he discovered a solitary Bloodroot—a rare and potent herb that held the power to mend any strong wounds and poisons.
"But how will I get it out of the cabinet?" he mused. He looked around the room for a minute, and eventually found a seeding spatula - it looked like a tiny shovel, with a wooden handle and a worn gray metal surface. He grabbed it and it didn't took too much more effort but for a few well placed hits to break the lock. Unfortunately, he also broke the spatula, but he made sure to put it behind a big bookshelf.
With the ingredients secured, Elrid's heart swelled with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. He knew that the path ahead would not be easy, that the creation of the healing potion would require skill and precision. But he had come too far to falter now.
Determination etched across his face, he made his way to the alchemy shop's basement where an alchemy workbench awaited.
Setting the ingredients down on a nearby table, Elrid took a moment to steady his racing heart. He knew that he needed to focus and channel his newfound knowledge of alchemy to create the healing potion that could potentially save Iluvia's life. But there was a problem—he had never practiced alchemy before. Hell, until not even more than a day he wasn't even alive and had newfound abilities, but no recall of his previous life! So now playing with Iluvia's life was the one thing that scared him the most right now.
Elrid found himself surrounded by an assortment of pots full of living herbs and vegetation. The air was heavy with the scent of potent potions, and the flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows upon the stone walls. His eyes fell upon a chest, tucked away in a forgotten corner. He tried to open it, but it was locked.
"This must be the chest where Nanne keeps her valuable recipes that was mentioned in the book."
With a mix of apprehension and hope, Elrid set to work on unlocking the chest. He tried several methods, clumsily attempting to pick the lock with makeshift tools. A number of minutes later and more than a few picklocks the frustration threatened to consume him when he finally, with a resounding click, unlocked the chest, revealing numerous parchements filled with scribbled texts, he finally found what he was looking for - A detailed description of how to prepare and mix the ingredients.
Elrid's eyes scanned the intricate instructions, his mind attempting to decipher the alchemical language. The process seemed daunting, filled with precise measurements and delicate procedures. Though he had no prior experience in alchemy, he refused to let his lack of knowledge deter him.
With shaking hands, Elrid gathered the necessary tools from the workbench and carefully measured out the required ingredients. He followed the steps outlined in the recipe, combining the Black Cohosh leaves, Embereyes, and Bloodroot with precise proportions. But as he began the process of mixing the concoction, a surge of uncertainty washed over him. The potion's consistency was far from what he had expected, and doubt crept into his mind.
Undeterred, Elrid decided to trust his instincts and improvise. He adjusted the proportions, adding a few drops of purified water to the mixture to dilute its thickness. He continued to stir, the vibrant colors of the ingredients intertwining within the glass vessel. The alchemical process seemed to become alive in front of his eyes, a delicate balance of artistry and science.
Finally, the mixture settled into a state that resembled the healing potion described in the recipe. A sense of relief washed over him, mingled with a spark of pride at his seemingly successful experiment.
"Hmm, maybe after all of this I can consider asking Nanne for a lesson or two, this could turn out to be very helpful."
He carefully transferred the potion into a small vial, sealing it tightly to preserve its potency.
After completing the arduous task of crafting the healing potion, Elrid felt uncertainty about his creation, but he had no better alternative. His heart pounded in his chest as he swiftly exited the alchemy shop, his steps filled with purpose and urgency. The bustling streets of Gorhart seemed to blur around him as he made his way towards the Gorhart Inn, his mind focused solely on the warden and the injured Fae.
As he entered the inn, the air was thick with the aroma of freshly baked bread and ale and the lively chatter of patrons. The innkeeper, a middle-aged woman with blue eyes and blonde hair and a warm and welcoming demeanor, turned her attention towards Elrid. Her hazel eyes sparkled with curiosity and kindness as she greeted him with a sweet smile.
"Hello, weary traveler. What can I do for you?" Her voice carried a gentle lilt, inviting him to share his purpose.
With barely concealed haste, Elrid replied, "I'm searching for the warden and the injured Fae. It's a matter of utmost importance."
The innkeeper's smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. She swiftly untied her apron and motioned for one of her girls to take charge of the bustling inn.
"Follow me," she said, her voice filled with both compassion and determination. "Herc should be upstairs with the Fae. He's been deeply worried about her."
Elrid trailed behind the innkeeper as they ascended the worn wooden stairs to the second floor. They passed several closed doors on either side, the sounds of muffled conversations and soft laughter seeping through the cracks. Finally, they reached the end of the corridor, facing a weathered door. With a gentle twist of the doorknob, the woman led Elrid into a small, humble room.
The room boasted a slanted ceiling, creating an intimate space that barely accommodated a single bed, a chest at its foot, and a minuscule wardrobe tucked away in the corner. By the wardrobe, a worn chair stood sentinel, occupied by Herc. His broad shoulders slumped, his head rested upon his chest as he succumbed to sleep, evidence of his exhaustion. Nearby, Iluvia writhed with a quiet restlessness, her delicate form twisting from side to side. Elrid's gaze lingered upon her, noting the subtle changes in her normally vibrant blue skin, a sign that her condition had worsened.
"Here we are," the innkeeper whispered, her voice filled with understanding. "I must return to attend to the inn, but if you need anything, don't hesitate to find me downstairs. Just ask for Nicole, and my girls will guide you."
With a final, soft smile, she exited the room, gracefully closing the door behind her, leaving Elrid alone with the slumbering Herc and the restless Iluvia. The room was enveloped in a serene hush, broken only by the faint sounds of Iluvia's pained moans.
Elrid approached the slumbering warden and gently shook him awake. Herc grunted, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, his gaze meeting Elrid's determined expression.
"What's the matter? Found a solution, have ya?" Herc asked, his voice filled with a mix of weariness and anticipation.
Elrid held up the small vial, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "I did it! Just in time, too. Take this potion. It should help, hopefully."
Herc eagerly reached out and took the vial, his face brightening. "You made it! That's a relief. Give it here."
With steady hands, Herc carefully administered the healing potion to Iluvia, his movements deliberate. As he tended to her, he turned his attention back to Elrid, his tone serious.
"Somebody needs to go to the House of Ballads and explain what went down here," Herc said, his voice filled with concern. "If they misunderstand us, we won't be seen as strangers anymore. We'll be enemies."
Elrid furrowed his brow, seeking clarification. "Why? Is the girl so important?"
Herc finished administering the potion, his eyes flicking between Elrid and Iluvia. He sighed, his voice tinged with reverence as he explained, "She's part of the House of Ballads, a legendary court of Fae heroes. They're renowned warriors, famous throughout the ages."
Herc's gaze turned solemn, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Iluvia's face. "If a mortal takes down one of their own, the House of Ballads and their king won't hold back. They'll bring down their wrath on Gorhart, reducing it to rubble."
The weight of the situation settled on Elrid's shoulders, his determination unwavering. "I'll go to the House of Ballads then," he declared, his voice resolute.
Herc's face softened, gratitude in his eyes as he clasped Elrid's shoulder. "You're proving to be a true ally, my friend. I owe you for this. Rest easy for now. You've done more than your fair share today. I'll speak to Nicole and arrange a room where you can rest. Thank you, truly, for everything you've done."
And that's that. I promise to post new chapter more frequently as I do enjoy writing myself, I've just been too busy. Hopefully this will change and I'll be able to flesh this story out!
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