Hey, Everyone!
How have you been? Did you miss our friend Mary?
Last time we saw her she and her companions were travelling as an escort for lord Dwendel and his family, going from the human city of Pamagos to the elven capital of Myth Adofhaer. They had just saved a bunch of people from some ghouls and a fire outside of Raxtrad and it seemed that her employer was impressed by something they’d said or done. Also, Mary was worried about a mysterious box in lord Dwendel’s posession being an elf-murdering weapon because her Patron sent her some nightmares (How did she know the nightmares were from him? They smelled like citrus, that’s how. No, that’s not strange. You’re strange!)
The long box lay open on the table and Mary and the others huddled over its contents. Lord Dwendel was standing silently across the tent with his back to them.
“It’s a map!” Mary gasped.
But it was not just any map. All the maps in Frinkeltong’s library and all those she’d seen in other people’s possession (even the one her friend Volos had shown her when she was little) were crude and sketchy and looked like child’s drawings compared to this one! Mary ran her fingers across the delicate lines and touched a few of the symbols depicting the different towns and cities. Together with Bruno, Jared and Aurum’s knowledge, they managed to recognize and point out most of Eastern Eratos’ topography.
Then she turned the map over to look at its back. She always did that with the things she read. You never knew what could surprise you on the other side of a piece of paper.
There was an inscription.
“Made for Dorina Dwendel, with gratitude for the heroism, and as a sign of Myth Adofhaer's eternal respect.”
She took her eyes off the map and turned to lord Dwendel.
“Who is Dorina?”
His shoulders slumped at the mention of the name. He turned around and his face was suddenly a lot older and very, very sad.
“Dorina was my daughter” he said. “She was an adventurer like you three. She cared about people, saved a lot of lives. She was so brave!” he looked at Mary and his eyes were wet with unfallen tears. “You remind me of her.”
Mary felt her heart tighten.
“What happened to her?” she asked quietly.
Lord Dwendel cleared his throat and looked away. “She disappeared from our home six years ago and we never heard from her again. We believe her to be dead.” Then he pointed at the exit of the tent. “But we need to get going. We have a lot of way to Myth Adofhaer.”
They reached the forest of the elves three uneventful days later, somewhere in the late afternoon. Massive trees surrounded their wagons, rich green crowns forming a tunnel overhead. The pounding of the horses’ hooves got muffled on the mossy floor and all the party could hear were the bird songs coming from all around.
Small elven patrols moved through the forest, armed with bows and arrows but when they saw lord Dwendel at the front of the procession, they let them pass.
Soon they found themselves at the walls of Myth Adofhaer and Mary felt like she was transported into a fairytale. The walls were themselves made out of enormous living trees, twisted and twined, magnificent and formidable in their natural beauty. There was an opening at the base, not more than ten by ten feet. A few guards were standing in front of it but there was no artificial gate of any kind.
Lord Dwendel came forth and met with an elven representative. They talked for a minute or two and then the elf made a gesture towards the wall.
One by one, the wagons started moving through the opening and into the city, all the lord’s servants and valets following at the rear. Crates started being unloaded, people rushed to do errands, and everyone was suddenly very busy.
Mary and her companions stood in the midst of all the chaos, feeling a little bit forgotten. The lord had arrived at his destination and they were kinda not needed anymore.
“Sooo,” Jared said vaguely and pointed towards the wall, “I’ma gonna… skedaddle.”
Bruno shrugged and headed in the opposite direction, farther from the elves’ dwarf-disapproving eyes. Aurum said something about having one last round of the lord’s wine and rushed after the provision cart.
Mary was left alone.
This, she suddenly realized, was the end of her first mission, her first adventure. What was she going to do now? Where would she go? The path back to Pamagos was at least a week and a half, would she be able to get there at all? Would she survive by herself?
Her heart began to race faster and faster and suddenly her hands felt very cold.
Then something pulled her hair and took her out of her thoughts.
“Ouch!” she cried and spinned around.
Little William Dwendel looked her up and down and, from the loftiness of his six years of age, said “Someday I’ll marry you.”
Mary laughed. “Yeah? Maybe when you grow up!” Then she thought a little and added: “Or when I do.”
Then she hugged him. She was going to miss the little devil.
I hate it when things end and I hate goodbyes. Do you hate goodbyes?
I do hope there are going to be some good “hello”-s later on :) What am I talking? I know there are going to be! You’ll just have to be patient!
Next time on Mary and her friends’ story:
The next adventure comes riding on a horseback just as they finish the last.