[IC] When the Dragon War Came

[camlin]

The tavern on the ground floor of the Leaping Lamb Inn was bright and busy in the early evening. Fires at either end of the hall and lanterns hanging above the tables cast a cheery yellow light over everything, and simple tapestries hung on the wooden walls helped to keep the noise level manageable. It was a pleasant place to take the evening meal—less rowdy than the taverns nearer the docks, and cleaner to boot, but less costly than the formal eating houses found uphill in the port city's wealthier districts.

The tavern's patrons were busy eating, drinking, and making merry. A minstrel played shanties and jigs in one corner, to the cheers and merriment of those seated nearby. There was no vocal accompaniment to the songs—yet. Elyde knew from experience that, after the casual diners cleared out and only revelers remained, the minstrel would progress to bawdy tunes that would have half the tavern singing along with increasingly discordant voices. She planned to escape to her rented room above before the debauchery could begin.

For now, though, the atmosphere was pleasant, and the steady noise lent some level of privacy to the conversation she and her companion now shared.

"...so I'm on my way back to the capital now, to hand in my report," her companion finished, having just described his latest mission up the coast. This particular inn was a favorite among the Dragon Hunters travelling between the seas and the capital, and it wasn't unusual to run into other Hunters here. "I'll be headed out in the morning, after a rest and the return of my land legs." The man punctuated this statement with a groan as he stretched the offending limbs out in front of him. Then he took a gulp of his ale and gestured at Elyde. "And you? You still look fresh. Where've they assigned you?"

Elyde took a sip of her own ale to wash down the stew she ate before she answered, "They've got me going all the way out to Tawalai Island on this one. They've reports of a lone dragon settling there—perhaps it thinks this island is far enough out of the way that we won't come after it." She smirked at this. "They should know better than to underestimate us by now, don't you think?"

Her companion guffawed his agreement. When his amusement calmed he asked, "And when do you sail?"

"As soon as I can." She shrugged. "I'll be down at the docks bright and early tomorrow to find a ship headed that way. The next passenger ship sails to Tawalai in a week, and I don't care to wait that long. No, I'll buy passage on some merchant ship or find a naval patrol to take me. It's too bad I can't travel by horseback for every mission. It's so much simpler," she sighed.

The conversation lagged then as the Hunters returned to their stews and bread. As she ate, Elyde's mind wandered wistfully to open plains, forest paths, and mountain treks. Anything but a sea voyage.

[Dread]

“Ah yes...” The young man popped the last bit of the buttered sweetroll into his mouth. “Another beautiful evening in the ol’ Leaping Lamb.” His words came out rather mumbled, but it mattered very little considering he was the only one at the small corner table. Besides, when there was no other company, speaking to yourself was perfectly normal, at least by his standards. Grabbing the mug of spiced ale, he leaned back in the creaky wooden chair and kicked up his leather booted feet onto the edge of the table as though he didn't have a care in the world. Moments later, he did, however find himself with burning ears, as the slightly out of reach conversation at the table a few feet from his had something of interest within it’s context.

Tawalai Island.

Now there's a place he hadn't returned since first venturing out with the crew of the [i]Wave Skimmer[i] many years back. Its beautiful, white sandy beaches, cool seabreezes, and luscious green flora were something almost out of a dream. However, there was also a strange darkness that loomed over such beauty that didn't sit right with the boy, even while he was there. Regardless, it seemed the young blonde woman closest to him took an interest in the island and something a “mission" that would send her to that place? This was almost too easy now, considering his ship would be heading out in that direction the next morning out the way to supply drops and war relief for neighboring islands.

Of course, by time his ears picked up on just about all that was needed to be heard, the poor young man -so lost on eavesdropping- failed to noticed as the chair began falling backwards, and inevitably with it, its occupant.

“Whoa!” Aric exclaimed as he tried to counterbalance, but it was too late. While his body collapsed in one direction, his partially full mug of ale went flying in the other, unfortunately straight toward the table where the two companions sat, soaring past the girl and landing in front of the other, the remaining contents splashing over his face and chest.

Aric did his best to scramble to his feet, unaware that his mug of ale had hit anyone, as he tried turned the chair right-side-up in attempt to at least save face from such a folly. However, his eyes quickly latched onto the fact that the one at the other table was wearing the boy’s drink, and yet not enough words could really describe the shocked expression on the young man’s face. None, except for one word.

“Sorry?” Aric said with a sheepish smile, realizing this was probably a terrible first impression.

[camlin]

Elyde caught a flicker of too-fast movement from the corner of her eye—a projectile?—and was out of her seat and taking a ready stance within a breath of time. Fortunately, this meant that the thin spray of ale from the flying tankard missed her; it instead sprayed foamy droplets across her recently vacated seat. Less fortunately, her supper companion was not as fast as she. He had barely closed his eyes and lifted his arms when the tankard crashed into their table. Though the tankard no longer flew, its contents continued the forward momentum in a small wave that soaked the poor man's face, chest, and lap. He belatedly shouted his surprise.

The crash and subsequent cry of alarm had everyone nearby going quiet and looking to see what had happened. A few people laughed, and even Elyde, annoyed though she was at the interruption, had to hide a small smile behind her hand. The man looked like a drenched cat, and as the shock wore off he began to look about as happy as one, too. His eyes locked onto the source of the spill and narrowed.

The boy—no, a young man—was busily righting his chair, having apparently fallen from it, but looked up and saw the damage his mishap had caused. Apparently, all he could manage in response was a weak, "Sorry?"

More chuckles came from those listening nearby, but the sodden Hunter's lips tightened into an angry line. Before he could let his temper speak for him, Elyde wordlessly fished her handkerchief from a pocket and held it out, one eyebrow raised. The man accepted it with a sigh and wiped his face and hands clean. A barmaid hurried forth with more cloths to clean up the mess.

Satisfied that she'd prevented a potential brawl, Elyde turned on the young man. She rested her hands on her hips and allowed a stern expression to cross her features. "Now, then." She spoke firmly, but without heat. "Have you any experience laundering clothes, or else coin to pay a laundress to get these stains out? Rolf here is leaving town in the morning, and neither of us have the time or inclination to clean up your mess." It was a fair and efficient solution, as she knew Rolf would let not this go with a mere word of apology. Indeed, she saw from her peripheral vision that Rolf nodded at her decision, the stiffness of his mouth and shoulders relaxing somewhat. Seeing that further entertainment was unlikely, the other patrons began returning to their own meals and conversation.

Only now did Elyde give the young man her full attention, and noticed with some surprise his pointed ears and angular features. The only indication of her surprise was a slow blink. A half-elf...interesting. Weren't elves supposed to be graceful?