"Zelkath Veilstrike…" A voice boomed over the head of the young Moon Elf as he knelt before a grizzled paladin. "Your god favors you, and having taken the Oath of the Watchers, your purpose is clear. Those who would threaten this world do so at their peril."
Zelkath smiled, lifting his head. His dark blue eyes locked with the brown eyes of the older human. "We do what we have to, and what we can," he said. "Corellon willing, it's more than enough."
"You must go to Veldravia. The king requires assistance with a highly important matter. A red dragon is threatening the kingdom's breadbasket."
Zelkath nodded. "Kerralt… of course," he said. He rose, sheathing his hand-and-a-half sword in its onyx scabbard.
"Take what you need from the quartermaster's stores and make haste. Evil never sleeps."
Zelkath turned on his heels and headed to a large room in the castle that this particular group of paladins and soldiers called home. Once there, he gathered his pack, stocked with camping gear, potions, and a bit of food, as well as some formal clothes in case he found himself invited to a ball. Next, Zelkath headed to the stables and saddled his black horse.
"Good news, Shadow… we've got a job." He nudged the beast's flanks with his bootheels, and off they went at a brisk canter.
Zelkath knew that Veldravia's main royal residence, Crystalgarde, was half a day's ride away. It was ten in the morning, and the middle of spring… he'd be there before dusk, if he could help it. He smiled as he felt the wind rustling in his light brown hair. He'd always loved riding; it gave him a sense of freedom. He continued in this state of mild bliss for about two hours, slowing down to a trot halfway through. As soon as he did this, he heard a shout, and spotted a rather intimidating-looking human attacking a young elf with hair the color of ripe cherries and pale, yet healthy skin. After the lady knocked the would-be assailant down with a blast of wind, Zelkath drew his sword, charging the man at full gallop, stopping just short and causing Shadow to fall back on his training and rear.
"WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS IS GOING ON HERE?!" Zelkath thundered.
The now highly surprised young lady shook her head. "He tried to rob me!," she said a bit weakly, her voice high and breathy.
Zelkath dismounted and yanked the man up by his collar, slamming him against the tree. "Listen… son," sneered Zelkath. "I don't know what makes you think you can just mug poor sorceresses in broad daylight. But it… stops… now."
"He comes," laughed the thief. "He comes to rid the world of mortal filth… Faerûn will be his new paradise… and we, his servants, will wallow in golden opulence!"
"Well…" Zelkath sheathed his blade, grinning. "Let me let you in on a little secret." With each of his next words, he slammed the would-be robber's head against the trunk of the tree.
"NO… BAS… TARD… WOR… SHIPS… DE… MONS… ON… MY… WATCH!"
The lady stood there, her face expressionless.
"Sorry you had to see that."
"I've seen worse," said the lady. "I sometimes watch criminals face their executions. It's gruesome… but in my position… it has to be that way. If you pass the sentence, you should be the one to carry it out. I'm Saenaria… Saenaria Taleyesin."
"Zelkath Veilstrike, Paladin of Corellon."
"You seem gruff for a paladin…"
"Well… I wasn't exactly raised in nobility."
"Understandable… I always thought that Paladins were these… well…"
"Knights in shining armor who never did a thing wrong in their lives?"
Saenaria nodded, eyes narrowing in thought. Zelkath noticed that they were the color of pure gold… more magic, perhaps?
"And I've never seen a paladin in leather," Saenaria noted.
"This armor is actually thin steel," Zelkath explained, "sandwiched between two layers of leather. Offers protection and mobility."
Saenaria smiled. "I'm an evoker and alchemist," she said, magically pulling her staff towards her. It sported a green leather grip, and was oak. The silver head resembled that of a dragon. The base of the staff was a heavy steel cap, and the dragon's eyes were intricately cut emeralds. Her green robes were strapless and trimmed with real cloth of silver, conforming to her lithe, yet curvaceous frame. On her soft, slender hands were gloves that matched her dress and extended to the middle of her forearms. Saenaria's dainty, slender feet were graced with a pair of matching slippers.
"You must be the personal sorceress to the king of Veldravia to be dressed so nicely," Zelkath commented.
"I'm one of a good few," she said. "Seven, in fact. Together, we form the Emerald Circle, hence the color of my robes.
"I'm on my way to see the king about a dragon wreaking havoc on Kerralt."
"Mmm… Zalventhrax, the Vermillion Terror," Saenaria said knowingly. "The king wants one of us to deal with him, and when he called for a paladin, they sent you. He also wants a healer and someone versed in… less savory methods.
"Sounds like fun… would you like an escort back to the castle?"
Saenaria nodded. "Thank you. Frankly, I could do with company that didn't try to cut my purse."