Tserelia walked purposefully through the village, not really bothering to look at anything that was going on around her. For the most part, things didn’t change very much from day to day in Hollien. The occasional interesting traveler would pass through, or someone might forge an impressive weapon she could gaze wistfully at, wishing she had the money and the skills to own something of the sort. But there was little else to keep her interest.
She had been preparing for a journey for over a fortnight, now. Despite her Auntie Janobel’s disapproval of the idea, Tserelia hadn’t been expressly forbidden to leave. Janobel had only told her to be watchful and to take care, because there were countless dangers out in the wide world.
But Tserelia had hardly ever even been much further than the Forest of Warlic, in all her hundred and eighty years on this earth. She’d visited various other Elven settlements and even a few Central Marketplaces teeming with humans, gnomes, warlocks, and all manner of peoples; but there was so much more out there. That was why she’d taken the time she needed to learn basic combat and weaponry, survival skills, and mystical healing arts, to prepare her for finally being able to leave. And today would be the day! There was only one more thing she needed: a better knapsack. Her usual one had finally busted at the seams, after eighty years of lugging it around. Tserelia had been able to commission a new one from Anoshka, Hollien’s resident master of leatherworking, mapmaking, scribework, and story-telling.
Tserelia didn’t hardly notice the elf who was waving her down until he stepped right into her path, and she crashed into him. “Mmph!” she exclaimed, smacking her face right into a strong chest. “What do you think you’re doing, Sammeran?” she asked, taking a step back to look up at him.
The tall, pale-haired elf smirked at the sight of her reddened cheeks and nose. “You’re not heading to that old map-maker’s shop again, are you, Eli? You must be growing weary of his company. Come and dine with me tonight. We can go scale some trees and… get to know each other. Just you and me, underneath the stars, alone in the forest."
Tserelia stepped around him with a frown. “I’ve told you not to call me Eli,” she reminded him. “And how many times have I told you I don’t want anything to do with you?" She continued on her way, but Sammeran fell into step beside her.
“Come, now. You’ve a pretty enough face, and you’re smart enough to know that nothing good will come of this wanderlust of yours. Why don’t you leave the traveling and battling to the men? You should be working on how to pleasure a man, not how to craft your own arrows.”
Tserelia froze and rounded on him, hands on her hips as she stared defiantly up at him, even though he stood nearly a foot taller than her. “Gerwenna the Bold. Ilessya, the Wandering Warrior. Dresedel of the Lightning Blade. Those are just a spare few of the Elven maidens who have made history and made names for themselves traveling around the world,” she told him sharply. “Countless others still journey these lands today. It doesn’t matter that none of them came from here in Hollien, and you’re a fool if you think a female is good for nothing more than welcoming you into bed. I suggest you get those close-minded thoughts out of your head before I bash them out for you. Now, stop following me and go find some featherbrained youngling to woo.”
Sammeran actually looked taken aback. He didn’t reply, but it was clear that his pride had taken a blow, thanks to the chuckles of surrounding passersby who had witnessed their exchange. Tserelia quickened her pace and kept walking, shoulders tense from their encounter. She didn’t turn back to look at Sammeran, who, thankfully, didn’t come after her. She knew that she’d likely have to deal with people far worse than him in her travels. Perhaps she would start with exploring the forests and caves instead of other cities. She’d much rather face a rabid wolf-bear or a giant spider than another guy like Sammeran. Perhaps Anoshka had some maps of the wilderness that she could borrow or purchase along with the new knapsack.
She had been preparing for a journey for over a fortnight, now. Despite her Auntie Janobel’s disapproval of the idea, Tserelia hadn’t been expressly forbidden to leave. Janobel had only told her to be watchful and to take care, because there were countless dangers out in the wide world.
But Tserelia had hardly ever even been much further than the Forest of Warlic, in all her hundred and eighty years on this earth. She’d visited various other Elven settlements and even a few Central Marketplaces teeming with humans, gnomes, warlocks, and all manner of peoples; but there was so much more out there. That was why she’d taken the time she needed to learn basic combat and weaponry, survival skills, and mystical healing arts, to prepare her for finally being able to leave. And today would be the day! There was only one more thing she needed: a better knapsack. Her usual one had finally busted at the seams, after eighty years of lugging it around. Tserelia had been able to commission a new one from Anoshka, Hollien’s resident master of leatherworking, mapmaking, scribework, and story-telling.
Tserelia didn’t hardly notice the elf who was waving her down until he stepped right into her path, and she crashed into him. “Mmph!” she exclaimed, smacking her face right into a strong chest. “What do you think you’re doing, Sammeran?” she asked, taking a step back to look up at him.
The tall, pale-haired elf smirked at the sight of her reddened cheeks and nose. “You’re not heading to that old map-maker’s shop again, are you, Eli? You must be growing weary of his company. Come and dine with me tonight. We can go scale some trees and… get to know each other. Just you and me, underneath the stars, alone in the forest."
Tserelia stepped around him with a frown. “I’ve told you not to call me Eli,” she reminded him. “And how many times have I told you I don’t want anything to do with you?" She continued on her way, but Sammeran fell into step beside her.
“Come, now. You’ve a pretty enough face, and you’re smart enough to know that nothing good will come of this wanderlust of yours. Why don’t you leave the traveling and battling to the men? You should be working on how to pleasure a man, not how to craft your own arrows.”
Tserelia froze and rounded on him, hands on her hips as she stared defiantly up at him, even though he stood nearly a foot taller than her. “Gerwenna the Bold. Ilessya, the Wandering Warrior. Dresedel of the Lightning Blade. Those are just a spare few of the Elven maidens who have made history and made names for themselves traveling around the world,” she told him sharply. “Countless others still journey these lands today. It doesn’t matter that none of them came from here in Hollien, and you’re a fool if you think a female is good for nothing more than welcoming you into bed. I suggest you get those close-minded thoughts out of your head before I bash them out for you. Now, stop following me and go find some featherbrained youngling to woo.”
Sammeran actually looked taken aback. He didn’t reply, but it was clear that his pride had taken a blow, thanks to the chuckles of surrounding passersby who had witnessed their exchange. Tserelia quickened her pace and kept walking, shoulders tense from their encounter. She didn’t turn back to look at Sammeran, who, thankfully, didn’t come after her. She knew that she’d likely have to deal with people far worse than him in her travels. Perhaps she would start with exploring the forests and caves instead of other cities. She’d much rather face a rabid wolf-bear or a giant spider than another guy like Sammeran. Perhaps Anoshka had some maps of the wilderness that she could borrow or purchase along with the new knapsack.