5: Messandra

[Start from the beginning]

Calleslyn climbed the stairs at the back of the map shop. Messandra, who owned the shop, was someone she had known for a long time. She had often provided the party with interesting documents or maps, which had led them on dramatic adventures across the northern lands. The latest such map had proven particularly useful, and she deserved to know the outcome of that escapade, which was why Calleslyn was here after hours.

She knocked on the door to Messandra’s living quarters above the shop, and was rewarded a brief time later when the owner opened the door. The human woman was dressed well, Calleslyn saw, wearing a rich blue sleeveless dress with a long skirt slit down the side to show off one slender leg, and ankle-length boots. A wide belt girdled her waist, accentuating her figure, and the dress itself had an open diamond between her breasts, and straps over her bare shoulders, where a necklace of amber stones hung down to her collar bone.

Calleslyn took all this in, realising at once that this was probably not her friend’s casual wear. “Have I interrupted you?” she asked, “I can always come back tomorrow.”

Messandra looked puzzled for a moment, and then glanced down at herself, following the elf’s eyes. “Oh, nothing that can’t be postponed,” she said, flushing slightly, “I was just… no, it’s nothing. Come in.”

4: Hiring

[Start from the beginning]
Soft soled leather boots made little sound as the dark cloaked figure strode along the back street. The houses nearby were large, some of the more opulent ones in Haredil, many of them lit by lantern light from within at this time of night. Even were it not for the darkness outside, little would have been visible of the figure’s features, shrouded beneath the long, hooded cloak. The figure glanced about, to make sure that no one was watching, but the street was otherwise deserted. It stepped up to the back door of one of the homes, and knocked softly.

After a long pause, the door opened slightly, and a human face peered out. Apparently satisfying himself as to the identity of the visitor, the man opened the door further, and the figure disappeared within.

The room within was gloomy, lit only by the candelabrum that the manservant held. Zarenis pulled back the hood on her cloak, revealing a pretty, yet serious face with pale skin and shoulder-length brown hair. However, her heritage was immediately apparent, as was, perhaps, her reason for concealment. Just peeking up from beneath her hair were the tips of two tiny, black horns, and her eyes glittered in the candlelight like two dark garnets, the reddish tinge decidedly unnatural.

“I will inform her ladyship of your presence,” said the man, not reacting at all to her appearance, “please wait here.” With that, he was gone, taking the candle with him, and plunging the room into near-total darkness.

3: Vardala

Vardala closed the door to her room behind her, and leaned against it for a while, suddenly nervous. She had excused herself from the late night conversation once Horvan had left to complete his own work for the night. She had claimed tiredness, but the truth was rather different. She pulled the magical glass marble from her purse, and held it in her hand, looking at it, her heart beating.

When she had found it, buried among some of the rubbish near the back of an underground chamber, she had initially planned to hand it over to the others, as part of the group’s treasure haul. But that was before she had realised just how useful it would be, and exactly what she would be able to do with it… if only the others did not know. She felt guilty for doing so, especially when she considered what her true motive had been. Perhaps she should just have told them, and then claimed it as her share of the loot. It was so much easier if they did not know… but, equally, it would now be embarrassing in the extreme if they ever found out.

But it was too late for that now. She had the glass ball in her hand, and there was no point having taken it if she did not intend to use it; that would be the worst of both worlds. Taking a breath to calm herself, she slid the latch shut on the inside of the door, and walked over to her bed. She put her jacket to one side, sat on the bed, and pulled off her boots. As a gnome, she loved creature comforts, and the bed already felt inviting. She lay down, above the blankets, feeling their soft material with her bare toes, and resting her head on the deep pillow. Then, already feeling a little more relaxed, she held out the tiny magical orb in front of her.

2: Helsa

The Brass Goblet Inn was busy, as was usual at this time of the evening. Although the place rented rooms, it was as much a tavern as an inn, so with the shadows starting to lengthen outside, many of the good folk of Haredil were arriving for a drink before they headed off to their homes. The clientele was generally respectable, though, so there was little chance of a fight, or, for that matter, of catching something unpleasant, as was often the case at the dockside taverns. This was the reason that Almandar liked it, and, with moderately wealthy visitors from outside the city often staying here, it also tended to be a good place to find work.

But that was not why Dolrim and he had come here tonight; they had had enough of work for the moment. He wanted to relax and enjoy himself, at least for one night. He found a free table, and they both sat down, and ordered a drink. The barmaid, he could not help but notice, was pretty. She looked in her mid twenties, with shoulder-length curly hair the colour of golden sand, brown eyes and a welcoming smile. Her short-sleeved white shirt was low cut to reveal an ample cleavage, her skin, so far as he could see, flawless and lightly tanned.

“You’re new,” he said, smiling as she approached with a platter of drinks, “what’s your name?”

1: Arrival

The sun shone down on the city of Haredil as the small group rounded the crest of the hill. The white towers and copper domes and minarets glittered in the light, welcoming them back after their long journey. The last few weeks had been exhilarating, dangerous, as they had probed lost catacombs in search of treasure, fending off monsters and evil spirits to gain their prize. And a good haul it had been, too, the coins now loading down their saddle bags.

Almandar looked around at his companions, staunch comrades in the battles they had faced, and many more beforehand. Lady Tarissa was the leader of the group, despite her foreign origins. Born to aristocracy somewhere to the south, she looked nothing like the nobles of Haredil or its neighbouring cities. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was now free of her helmet, and her pale lips formed a smile as she saw the city ahead. The paladin might be an exile, but Haredil had become a home for her, too over the past few years. With the dust of the journey, and the heat of past battles, only her regal bearing now marked out her high born ancestry, but once they returned, there was no doubt that she would be able to move amongst the nobility once again, her knowledge of etiquette making her ideal as spokeswomen for the group.

Where Lady Tarissa was muscular and heavily armoured, Almandar’s fellow magician, Calleslyn, was willowy, armed only with a dagger tucked into her belt. She was wearing travelling clothes now, of course, but by tomorrow, she would, he knew, be dressed in rich robes that only complemented her beauty more. As pale and blonde as Tarissa, her hair was long, currently tied back into a long pony tail to reveal the high points of her ears. She had lived among the forests of the southern island for much of her life, which perhaps explained her mixed expression as the city approached. She looked, Almandar thought, calm and relaxed. Perhaps for her, as an elf, this was just the end of another journey, a pause between travels, rather than a true homecoming.