Hello! Here is the final part of our first side quest! I promise, I won't fill up and bloat the story with these, but I wanted to experiment and have Elrid actually communicate with the people he met on his journey. As you all know, Gorhart is a big opportunity for this, as it is the first village that you encounter right out Allestar and I wanted to write this a bit in my own style and have a spin on this specific story itself.
Long AU note over, please do enjoy the chapter!
Make sure to leave a review after, as it helps me when writing these chapters!
As the morning light seeped through the drawn curtains, Elrid gradually awakened. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing a room adorned in tranquility and silence. There were no dying women or urgent matters demanding his attention. Although his heart remained unsettled, knowing he still had tasks to complete and a destiny to unravel, the respite offered a fleeting moment of relief.
The Seeker, Elrid rose from the bed and approached a small table adorned with intriguing items. His kite shield gleamed after being meticulously cleaned by someone, devoid of the grime and dirt it had accumulated in recent battles. His worn and rusted longsword was nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by a gleaming iron longsword, its surface reflecting the morning light. A complete set of heavy armor lay mostly concealed beneath the table. Among these objects, a small note lay nestled.
"I promised you a reward, and I noticed your cuts and bruises, as well as the state of your equipment. I believe these will serve you far better, surpassing your previous means of survival."
Herc
The gear had been present in the room even before Elrid's arrival, yet his weariness had prevented him from giving them due attention. Now, however, his mind was rested, and he examined the items with care.
The armor, painted a dark gray hue, boasted a sturdy construction of thick iron. It was undoubtedly heavy, but it offered superior protection compared to being haphazardly slashed until he could refine his fighting skills.
As Elrid began donning the armor, he made a mental note to inquire about swordsmanship lessons when time allowed. It was essential to better his combat skill and wield his new weapon with proficiency.
"Oh, Elrid! Good morning! Have a seat, and I'll bring you a delicious breakfast in just a moment," Nicole greeted him with a warm smile. She swiftly turned and disappeared through a backdoor, presumably leading to the inn's kitchen. Elrid let out a soft sigh, torn between the urgency of Gorhart's peril and not wanting to offend the kind woman who had provided him with a room.
Reluctantly, Elrid took a seat at one of the tables and patiently waited for Nicole's return. Soon enough, she reappeared, carrying a hearty plate filled with sausages, eggs, cheese, bread, and a steaming cup of mulled wine. "It's on the house, as a token of gratitude for your help. Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything else," she offered kindly.
"In that case, may I ask where Herc is? I need to see him urgently; it can't wait," Elrid replied as he began indulging in the delicious breakfast before him.
"He's still attending to Iluvia upstairs. She's improving, but she needs rest. You can head up and talk to him if you'd like," Nicole informed him before leaving him to enjoy his meal. Elrid wasted no time and quickly finished his breakfast, then made his way to the room where he had been accommodated by Nicole the previous day.
A light tap on the door, and Herc opened it, stepping outside into the corridor. He closed the door gently, mindful not to disturb Iluvia's slumber. "Hey, you're up already. That's good. I see the armor and weapons fit you well. I was worried we might need to make adjustments and send you off to the House of Ballads ill-equipped if things were to go... err... unfavorably," Herc said, scratching his cheek with a hint of concern.
"It won't come to that, Herc, but you must tell me how to get there so we can address this issue immediately," Elrid insisted, urgency resonating in his voice. He couldn't afford to waste too much time, not only because of the potential Fae threat to Gorhart, but also because he needed to continue his quest and seek out Arden's hut for answers about his fate.
"Right, let's get to it," Herc's expression turned serious as they walked down the corridor and descended the stairs. "Follow me. I'll give you a map of all Amalur, but it's in the prison outpost," he explained, setting a brisk pace.
"The prison outpost? I didn't notice any prominent structures resembling a prison," Elrid exclaimed, surprised by this unexpected revelation from the warden.
"That's because it's built into the mountain, just on the outskirts of the village. It's not easily noticeable if you don't know where to look, but it's not exactly hidden. As I mentioned yesterday, the Red Legion frequently launches attacks and raids," Herc elaborated as they exited the inn and headed west from the main square.
"The Red Legion is a formidable group of human and alfar bandits, terrorizing villages across Dalentarth, especially us villagers in Gorhart. They hold a belief in their own superiority, claiming that they are purging the weak to ensure only the strong survive, or at least that's what their leader, Red 'The Dead' Idward, suggests," Herc spat on the ground, clearly displaying his displeasure. "They have several camps scattered throughout Dalentarth, but we don't have the forces to clear them all out. However, we do capture and imprison any unlucky bastards who dare to attack us head-on in broad daylight when our patrols are at their strongest."
They left the town behind and followed a well-trodden path towards East Odarath for a few minutes, then veered right after passing a sturdy tree stump. Venturing into the wilds of the forest, they made their way toward the mountain. After a short journey through the foliage, they arrived at a cave entrance, though it was now fortified with a massive wooden gate. Herc and Elrid approached it, and the warden rapped on a smaller door set into the gate. A small slit opened and closed swiftly as the guard on the other side recognized their commanding officer.
"Sir!" the guard exclaimed, standing tall and making way for the two of them to pass through and enter the prison's inner sanctum.
"At ease, soldier. We're here regarding the Fae situation, so we're heading to the barracks," Herc dismissed the guard, who returned to his post by the door.
"Come on, let me show you our headquarters," Herc beckoned as they proceeded deeper into the prison.
As Elrid and Herc ventured deeper into the labyrinthine corridors of the prison outpost, the atmosphere became suffused with an oppressive aura. The flickering torches cast dancing shadows along the damp stone walls, and the sound of distant murmurs and clinking chains filled the air. Each cell they passed held a tableau of despair—haggard faces pressed against the bars, their eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity, resentment, and the weariness of confinement.
Guiding Elrid through the maze of passages, Herc eventually led him to a modest chamber adorned with maps, weapons, and armor. The room exuded an air of purpose, its walls lined with faded battle banners and shelves bearing volumes of strategic wisdom. At the heart of it all stood a long table, its surface adorned with scattered scrolls and quills, as if a war council had just adjourned. "Welcome to our humble barracks," Herc said, gesturing toward the table. "It may not be grand, but it serves our needs. However, for now, our focus must be on addressing the looming Fae threat to Gorhart."
Elrid's eyes darted across the sprawling maps, feeling a pang of frustration at his own lack of geographical knowledge. Memories still eluded him, stubbornly refusing to resurface despite his best efforts. He sighed inwardly, a mixture of resignation and determination swirling within him, for he knew he had no choice but to forge ahead and make sense of his fragmented past. That is if he could due to his death being the main setback...
Leaning against the table, Herc retrieved a small, well-worn map, no larger than a book, and spread it out before Elrid. "This map will serve as your guide through the region," Herc explained, tracing a path with his finger. "You must traverse the passage that connects us to East Odarath, then continue northward toward the majestic mountains of Dalentarth. The entrance to the House of Ballads lies guarded by a series of archways nestled beside the meandering river."
Elrid studied the map intently, absorbing its details, his brow furrowing with a mix of concentration and frustration. After a moment, he rolled it up and stowed it away in his trusty backpack, ready to embark on his quest.
"Time is of the essence," Elrid declared resolutely, turning his gaze toward the exit. "I must set forth without delay."
A tinge of gratitude shone in Herc's eyes as he nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Elrid. I must admit, I wrestle with self-doubt and fear. It's overwhelming to carry the weight of responsibility and lead my people. But your words remind me that I've taken steps, however small, and that caring for our community is not a mark of failure. Let's press on together, shall we?"
Elrid's encouraging gaze met Herc's, their shared determination fusing their spirits. "Indeed, we shall," Elrid affirmed, his voice imbued with conviction.
With renewed resolve, they strode purposefully toward the exit of the prison outpost, their footsteps echoing through the dimly lit corridors, ready to face the challenges that awaited them beyond its confines.
Back on the main road, the two men stood facing each other, their hands clasped in a firm handshake. Rays of sunlight pierced through the canopy of trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground beneath their feet.
"Just one thing before I embark on my journey, Herc," Elrid began, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want you to know that I won't be returning to Gorhart. Once I deliver the news to the Fae and fulfill my quest, I will make sure to send word back to you, either through a messenger or a letter."
Herc's eyes widened in disbelief, a mixture of surprise and disappointment etched across his face. "Why not return? We could greatly benefit from someone like you, someone who can bring hope and strength to our village. Gorhart may not be perfect, but it offers peace and sanctuary, far removed from the horrors of war," he pleaded, his voice tinged with a hint of longing.
Elrid's smile was bittersweet as he responded, understanding the warden's attachment to Gorhart. "I appreciate your kind words, Herc. Gorhart is indeed a wonderful place, and I'm grateful to have crossed paths with you all. However, I have a personal quest that I must pursue, a path that I must follow. I've already deviated from it by helping you, and now I must continue on its course."
Herc sighed, a mixture of resignation and understanding in his tone. "I suppose I can't argue with your conviction, Elrid. Your journey is your own, and it's important that you stay true to it. Just know that you will always be welcomed here, should you ever choose to return. May the Gods watch over you and guide your steps," he said, saluting the departing Seeker with a mix of admiration and farewell.
Elrid nodded, his gaze lingering on the village he had come to know. "Thank you, Herc. I'm grateful for our encounter, and I won't forget the warmth and hospitality of Gorhart. Take care of the village and its people, and may our paths cross again one day," he spoke with a touch of nostalgia, before turning away and setting off on his next adventure.
As Elrid walked further down the road, his mind filled with anticipation and determination, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness for leaving behind the tranquil haven of Gorhart. But deep down, he knew that his destiny lay elsewhere, and he vowed to honor the path that had been set before him, with memories of Gorhart and its people serving as a beacon of hope in his heart.
Elrid embarked on his journey to the House of Ballads, his steps guided by the map and the words of Herc echoing in his mind. The road stretched out before him, winding its way through the lush and untamed landscapes of Dalentarth. Towering ancient trees formed a majestic canopy overhead, their branches interlacing to create a tapestry of shadows and sunlight that danced upon the forest floor.
As he ventured deeper into the wilderness, the air grew crisp and fragrant, carrying with it the scent of moss-covered rocks and wildflowers that lined the roadside. The path beneath his boots was a mosaic of earthy hues, with patches of soft green grass and patches of gravel that crunched softly under his every step. Occasionally, a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, whispering secrets of the forest and stirring the branches above.
It was in this serene setting that two wolves, their eyes gleaming with predatory hunger, emerged from the underbrush, blocking Elrid's path. Their sleek fur bristled with anticipation, their teeth bared in a feral snarl. Elrid's heart quickened as he tightened his grip on the hilt of his newly acquired iron longsword.
With a sudden burst of agility, the first wolf lunged forward, its muscles rippling beneath its coat. Elrid's reflexes kicked in, and he sidestepped the attack with a nimble grace, narrowly avoiding the sharp jaws that snapped shut in the air. Seizing the opportunity, he retaliated, his sword slicing through the air with a fluid motion. The blade found its mark, biting into the wolf's flank, and a pained yelp filled the forest as crimson droplets spattered the ground.
But the second wolf was not to be deterred. It circled around Elrid, eyes locked onto his every move, seeking a moment of vulnerability. With lightning speed, it lunged, teeth aiming for his exposed arm. Elrid's instincts screamed at him to react, and he raised his shield just in time, the wolf's fangs clashing against the sturdy metal with a resounding impact. The force of the attack rattled his arm, but he stood firm, his determination unwavering.
The battle ensued, a dance of steel and fang amidst the rustling leaves and the distant melody of birdsong. He couldn't utilize his longsword to it's full potential as the wolf was quicker than him and always kept a very close and personal distance.
Elrid deftly parried the wolves' attacks, his movements becoming an intricate symphony of defense and offense. With each strike, his confidence grew, his focus honed on the task at hand. The clash of metal against fang filled the air, echoing through the forest, as the wolves fought fiercely, driven by primal instincts.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Elrid's opportunity came. With a swift and calculated strike, his sword found its mark, piercing through the second wolf's defenses and delivering a fatal blow. The creature let out a final whimper before collapsing to the ground, its life force fading into the earth.
As silence settled over the forest once more, Elrid took a moment to catch his breath, his chest heaving with the exhilaration of battle. He surveyed the scene, the fallen wolves a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in the wilderness. With renewed resolve, he continued his journey, stepping over the fallen foes, their wild beauty now forever stilled.
The road stretched on, beckoning him forward, as he resumed his path towards the House of Ballads. After a long and arduous journey through the untamed wilderness, Elrid finally reached the entrance to the fabled House of Ballads. Nestled amidst the grandeur of the Dalentarth mountains, the imposing structure stood as a testament to the rich heritage of tales and legends that echoed through the land.
The path that led to the entrance was flanked by towering stone arches adorned with intricate carvings, depicting scenes of heroic exploits and mythical creatures. Each arch seemed to hold a story of its own, frozen in time and etched into the very fabric of the realm. As Elrid approached, a sense of reverence and anticipation washed over him, for he knew that behind these hallowed walls lay the heart of the immortal bards.
A stone archway, ornately decorated with vibrant flowers and delicate ivy, served as the gateway to the House. The flowers, in a myriad of hues, bloomed with an ethereal radiance, their petals unfurling like brushstrokes on a painter's canvas. The sweet fragrance of the blossoms filled the air, creating an atmosphere of enchantment that enveloped Elrid as he stepped forward.
Beyond the archway, a cobblestone courtyard stretched out before him, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight filtering through a canopy of ancient trees. The courtyard was a symphony of colors, with flower beds bursting with vibrant blooms, their petals swaying gently in the breeze. Elrid marveled at the meticulous arrangement, as if the flowers themselves whispered secrets of forgotten tales.
As he continued his ascent, he reached a grand staircase that led to a towering entrance adorned with intricate reliefs depicting legendary figures and epic battles. The details were exquisite, as if the stone itself had been imbued with life, capturing the essence of every tale etched into its surface. Each figure seemed to leap forth from the stone, frozen in motion, their expressions brimming with passion and purpose.
As Elrid stepped further, he found himself standing on a magnificent arch bridge that spanned a crystal-clear, babbling brook. The bridge, crafted with exquisite precision, was adorned with intricate carvings and delicate filigree. Elrid marveled at the craftsmanship, as if the bridge itself were an extension of the legendary tales that permeated the air.
Looking ahead, he caught sight of a breathtaking garden that unfolded before him like a painter's masterpiece. The lush expanse was a symphony of vibrant colors and intoxicating scents, where every blossom and blade of grass seemed to thrive in perfect harmony. Elrid's senses were overwhelmed by the fragrant perfume of blooming flowers and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.
As Elrid approached the grand arch bridge that led into the garden, his anticipation grew. The bridge, intricately crafted with ethereal grace, seemed to hover above a shimmering stream flowing beneath it. The arch bridge was adorned with delicate engravings of mythical creatures and ancient symbols, depicting tales of valor and enchantment. The soft sound of water trickling beneath the bridge added a soothing melody to the air.
However, just as Elrid was about to set foot on the bridge, a sudden swirl of magic materialized before him, revealing the arrival of a male Fae. His presence was captivating, emanating an aura of otherworldly power. The Fae's skin bore a striking hue of dark purple, and his attire, fashioned from leaves and vines, seemed to blend seamlessly with his form, as if nature itself had woven it.
With a commanding voice, the Fae halted Elrid's progress. His eyes, intense and filled with ancient wisdom, bore into Elrid's soul. The Seeker could feel the weight of centuries in that gaze.
"Proceed no further, mortal," he declared with authority. "I am Galin, a Fae of the House of Ballads. You are not one of our kind, and I cannot allow you to venture deeper into our realm."
Elrid, having traveled far and braving countless perils, took a moment to collect himself and catch his breath. The significance of his journey and the importance of his message surged within him.
"A Fae by the name of Iluvia has been gravely injured in the village of Gorhart," Elrid spoke with urgency, his words flowing forth. "We have done what we could to aid her, and she is now on the path to recovery. We believed it essential to inform the House of Ballads of this turn of events."
Galin's countenance shifted, revealing a mix of frustration and concern. He sighed heavily before addressing Elrid.
"Impetuous fool! I had warned her to avoid your settlement, to steer clear of Odarath entirely. But she never heeded my counsel," Galin lamented, his voice tinged with exasperation. The Fae's eyes bore into Elrid's, filled with a smoldering intensity. "I shall reprimand her sternly upon her return. This unfortunate incident, though not the first of its kind, requires proper attention. Tell me, what transpired?"
Elrid proceeded to recount the events leading to Iluvia's attack, providing a detailed account of their speculations.
Galin bristled, his features contorting in frustration. He shook his head, trying to comprehend the situation. "Attacked? Your kind, so timid in their dealings with us, now seeks to harm us. I cannot fathom it," he murmured. Despite his agitation, Galin acknowledged Elrid's honesty. "We shall dispatch a messenger to the village, assuring them that they need not fear us. We hold no ill will toward them, provided they leave our forest undisturbed, as they found it," Galin declared, his voice resolute. "Now, excuse me. I must find someone to relay this message and bring that imbecile back home. I am grateful that you came to inform us of this. Perhaps it is time for our kind to foster more communication with yours."
With a nod of respect, Galin turned and departed, leaving Elrid standing on the grand arch bridge at the entrance of the enchanting garden. As he watched Galin vanish into the ethereal surroundings, a sense of accomplishment and duty washed over Elrid. He had fulfilled his mission, informing the House of Ballads of the peril that had befallen Iluvia. With a renewed sense of purpose, he turned on his heels and began his journey back toward Arden's Hut.
And that's it for this chapter. Next chapter we are back on track with Canon events and will be for a long while...exciting times!