Chapter 3

Darras experienced the world shifting as he stepped through the gateway and Erren’s special world faded behind him. Instead he found himself in a domed chamber lined, presumably, with wood panelling. He also saw how difficult it would be to try to get an army moving through it one at a time.

“Your business?” a liveried official demanded.

“Darras Blain, merchant, travelling to the county of Luxmann,” he stated, handing over an invitation from the local Baron to display his wares.

The item was a forgery, he thought. Erren had handed it to him after he had dressed and picked up his heavy pack. Still, he trusted Erren who had also briefed him on what to expect and what to say.

“Do not attempt a bribe at the gateway,” she advised. “The officials there will obfuscate and delay, but they are honest and will have you arrested if you try to circumvent the system they have in place.”

So, he waited patiently as they checked his pack and examined the letter, comparing the seal to one on a chart of some kind to see if it was genuine, which, knowing Erren, it probably was. Or at least, as real as the genuine seal used to invite merchants.

“Weapons?” one of them asked in suspicion laden tones.

“Just a knife and a tool for sharpening my quill for contracts,” Darras replied.

“You are literate?” he asked, looking slightly surprised.

“I am. It saves me being cheated by unscrupulous officials representing my noble customers.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “What of your stave?”

“It’s a walking staff, no more, no less,” Darras replied, offering his staff for examination and keeping patient as there was no way to hurry this.

“Hmm, very well,” the official nodded and affixed a seal to Darras’s document. “Do not lose it, it represents your return warrant.”

“I won’t. Thank you,” Darras replied and moved to repack his gear, which had been left upon a table, fitting each thin wooden velvet-draped display unit into its rightful slot. He then sat, pushed his arms through the carry straps and heaved himself to his feet before heading in the direction indicated to an exit, just as another traveller arrived.

The town outside was interesting enough, though clearly built almost entirely of timber, unlike the gateway tower which was of cut stone. Everywhere he looked, there were vendors hawking goods or other services. Following the advice of Erren, he ignored them and headed east towards the gate there and a long walk to the village of Trecor where he would spend the night.

His military training came back immediately as his arms and legs seemingly moved of their own volition into the marching pattern of the Ostar Republic and he rapidly left the market area ... if that’s what it was, behind as he headed outwards towards the countryside. So far, nothing had surprised him and those people he saw had simply viewed him as either a potential customer or someone to ignore. He did spot other merchants, similarly dressed to himself and realised Erren had chosen well as he totally blended in. It was only when leaving the town through the eastern gate that he realised just what a strange place he was actually in as he spotted his first Elf.

The figure certainly had the outward appearance of a human. However, he also had pointy ears and eyes that seemed to blaze with an inner vitality. It was also obvious that he had spotted Darras’s scrutiny, though appeared indifferent to it, or so it seemed.

“It is rude to stare, human. Did not your parents teach you this?” the Elf finally spoke, giving Darras his full attention with a baleful glare.

“They did indeed, though this is my first sight of one of the fair folk so I hope you will forgive me my impudence,” Darras apologised.

“Ah, I see. Where do you hail from?”

“From Trennet in the Ralketh Kingdom (a human only realm, though not hostile to other races).”

“Then welcome to Dorlianath, the Forest Kingdom, home of the Iversi Faire.”

“Thank you. I am headed to the court of Baron Luxmann via the villages of Trecor and Silvak. Any issues in my path?”

“None, though beware of straying from the road near the villages. The gamekeepers of the Baron are somewhat ruthless towards supposed poachers.”

“I thank you for this, good Elf.”

“Tis Firios and you’re welcome.”

“Darras here, may the goddess Erren bless you.”

“You worship Erren, the Lady of Light?”

“Aye. She guides my path,” Darras replied, foregoing to mention that he didn’t exactly worship Erren, but did respect her greatly.

“Then may she continue to guide your path. Good day to you, Darras.”

“Good day to you too, Firios,” he nodded and headed on his way.

The Elf observed Darras for far further than Darras would have believed before trilling out a low whistle. Within seconds he was joined by three elves, all of whom waited patiently for him to speak.

“You heard him?” Firios asked.

“Yes,” Annos, a young female, replied. “He lied about his roots and intentions, though I sensed no evil upon him.”

“So he follows the goddess?” Traskis, a young male, queried.

“Of that, there was no lie,” she affirmed.

“A human male who follows the goddess, strange,” Firios mused.

“Follows yes, worships...? Of that I am not so sure,” Annos replied.

“Interesting. Alert the Iversi watchers to protect his passage and observe his doings,” Firios finally decided.

“You believe him to be her agent?” Traskis asked.

“I do not as yet know, yet there is darkness in Silvak and it remains to be seen as to how he deals with it.”

“A human to deal with human problems,” Annos chuckled. “The goddess has a sense of humour.”

“If that is what he is here for and if he is successful then we shall assist him if required.”

“Bold words,” Traskis stated with a slight frown.

“We follow the goddess too.”

“That we do,” Tinara, who had so far remained silent, agreed, her red hair bobbing slightly as she nodded.

“Then it is settled. Send out the kirach messenger birds to our watchers.”

No other words were said. The three others seemingly just faded into the background as they headed back to the wood’s edge to write down the request and send the kirach off to do Firios’ bidding. Firios himself remained upon his rock and simply observed the world in all its complexity, waiting for the next traveller of interest to pass.

Darras made good progress as the road was in reasonable condition. He did have the feeling he was being watched, though that was all it was, simply a feeling, nor was it hostile. He did pass a few people, all human, many, merchants like himself, some having hired horses, others heading back towards the town, their business done. Every so often a messenger would pass conveying information to the various Barons of the Kingdom and so he reached the village of Trecor just as evening approached.

The inn was easy to find, located on the main thoroughfare and advertised by a signboard showing a dancing ... chicken, though Darras wasn’t too sure. Inside it was warm as well as reasonably clean and the smell of cooking meat made his stomach growl in anticipation.

“Welcome stranger to the Strutting Cock o’ the Walk,” the barman greeted him, clearing up the mystery of the sign a little.

“Greetings to you. Do you have a room for the night?” Darras asked.

“Aye, several, clean and cheap.”

“A room then and then something to eat,” Darras requested.

“That’ll be four coppers for the room, beer is a copper a flagon and the meat stew with bread a further two.”

Darras handed over a ten copper coin and simply asked for the beer to keep coming till it was spent, getting a nod off the barkeeper who, it seemed, was used to this sort of behaviour.

“Pelna, show...?”

“It’s Darras,” Darras filled in the blank.

“Show Darras to his room and then prepare a bowl of stew for him,” the barkeeper requested of a young girl.

“Follow me, sir,” she eagerly requested.

“Lead on, Pelna,” Darras chuckled at her obvious enthusiasm.

Pelna led him through a door to the side, pointing out what she called the ‘jakes’, which was obviously some sort of toilet. She led him up a sturdy set of steps and stopped before one of several doors on an upper landing, which she threw open.

“You can stow your pack in safety here,” she informed him. “Food will be waiting for you downstairs along with your beer.”

The room itself was small, mostly comprising of a bed, a washbasin on a small cupboard and little else other than an oil lamp.

“There’s demon-strikes in the drawer for the lamp, if you need it,” she informed him helpfully ... sort of, as he guessed a demon-strike to be some sort of match.

“Thank you, Pelna,” Darras replied and handed over a copper as a tip.

“Ooh, thank you,” she beamed and hurried down, no doubt to prepare his meal.

“So far, so good,” he murmured as he closed his eyes in prayer.

‘Yes it is, ’ Erren’s voice came clearly to his mind. ‘The Elves here are somewhat taken with you.’

“I only saw the one, Firios, but did suspect others.”

‘They worship me as Wenderos, though know my other names, including Erren.’

“So they will not interfere?”

‘No, and may help if they feel you need it.’

“Hopefully I won’t, but that’s nice to know.”

‘You were nice to Pelna, ’ Erren noted.

“I liked her enthusiasm.”

‘Hersey keeps a good inn. Please give it my blessing when you go downstairs, ’ Erren requested.

“I will,” Darras nodded as her presence left him for the moment.

Downstairs a few other customers had shown up and went silent as he entered and they observed him.

“Erren, goddess of light, bless this inn,” he spoke clearly before taking a seat at a table in the corner where he could not be flanked, an old habit of his.

Pelna brought out a flagon of ale first and then followed it up with a bowl of meat stew with a large cob of hard bread and a lump of cheese.