The sky streaked red and yellow as Sh'lzzt and Dalmar broke through the edge of the thick, green forests at the edge of the regions once held by the ancient domain of the ruined Alvaress kingdom. It had been a day since the two travelers laid eyes on the crumbling remains of the fortress in the mountainside, and they had emerged not only from the depths of the feared but from the darkness of the mysterious forest as well. The crooked line of trees marked the egde of a small roadway trampled by time and the intrusion of civilization, and once again Dalmar and his comrade were faced with the dilemma of direction. The two paused as they scanned the open area of farmlands and the sparse plumes of fire burning smoke from the tops of several small farmhouses spotting the distance. Sh'lzzt's head swiveled to the right and left looking up and down the country road, and turned to the southeast as he entered the roadway as a simple traveler. Dalmar, following Sh'lzzt into the series of cart tracks walked to the other side of the pathway and snagged an ear of corn from a stalk that grew along the roadway, and removed its husk. Dalmar smiled and delighted in the fresh find and signs of a community of people as he bit into the ear. The sweetness of the the corn was nearly heavenly to Dalmar as he grabbed another, careful to not alert any hidden onlookers from his minor deviance. Sh'lzzt looked back at his friend and smirked. Embarrassed, Dalmar slid the extra ear into his pack and quickly finished the one in his mouth as he tossed its remains to the side and wiped his mouth. Sh'lzzt looked at the darkening sky at dusk and slowed his gait for his friend to reach him. "It will be raining soon, but we should reach Oberon before nightfall" mentioned Sh'lzzt.
"Anything I should know about Oberon?" Dalmar asked.
"No, it's a typical hamlet of men. Not very large, but larger than many along the way. We should be able to get suitable lodgings while we are there for the night." Sh'lzzt explained.
"For the night? I'm guessing you have a particular destination in mind?" Dalmar said smartly, making light of the fact that they seemed to wander relatively aimlessly to avoid discovery by the Kroo.
"Yes, Dalmar. After Oberon, we should make our way to go see friends as it seems we have little of those at the moment." Sh'lzzt said. Dalmar seemed to like the idea of meeting someone new, and was pleased to hear that there was a point to their travel other than escape. The journey seemed to have purpose now as it had lost its point after the first couple of days. In the beginning, escape was the only reason to travel in the fashion that Dalmar and Sh'lzzt were quickly becoming accustomed, but now they were no longer trying to escape detection. But rather, they were on a pilgrimage of sorts to find a place of fellowship if not somewhere they could rest and determine their next course of action.
The moon began to peer above the horizon bringing with it the bright light of the evening across the roadway as Dalmar and Sh'lzzt reached the town of Oberon. The town was situated snugly in a small, round area on the edge of a tiny, round mountainside that appeared as an overgrown hill with trees about it. Dalmar found Oberon to be peaceful and sleepy as he gazed around the visible edges of the town from his vantage point. His eyes swept around the circular pattern of forested areas from which small farms and small mountaintops peered through the landscape. The sky showed a small group of flashing clouds in the northeast warning of the impending rain as the breeze topped the tall grasses of the plain bringing with it the aroma of humidity. Soon, the distracting aroma of roasting meats and sweet pies and cakes came across the noses of the two adventurers, and they quickly diverted their attention to their stomachs. As the two walked the main road through Oberon, they soon found their nightly destination, a small inn bearing the moniker The Raven's Roost swinging on a creaking board of wood above their heads.
The sky rumbled with a report of the oncoming storm as Dalmar walked bravely in through the door of The Raven's Roost with his friend behind him. The large room was filled with local denizens of Oberon enjoying an ale and a meal after a day of hard work in the fields. The low rumble of frolicking conversation rolled over the scene, and the familiar aroma of roasted meat caressed Dalmar and Sh'lzzt's senses as their mouths began to water after days of wild vegetation and mushrooms. Easing up to the bar in the back of the room, they each ordered a local specialty of prairie chicken and the house ale, a reddish brew with rusty foam that dripped over the sides of their pewter steins. The goblinesque faces of horror engraved on the steins soon matched Sh'lzzt's own face as he sipped at his drink, but did little to mimic the smiling face of Dalmar as he tore through the carcass of the bird before him. Within minutes, Dalmar's plate was nothing more than a greasy pile of bones, and he washed it down with the ale in front of him. Sh'lzzt found enjoyment in the bird, but did little drinking to wash down his own meal. "Let me guess, man's ale isn't to your liking?" Dalmar said with a quick, dull snap of wit.
"If even made of gold were the tongues of men, I'd still prefer wormroot." Sh'lzzt said as he pushed his mug towards Dalmar sitting across from him. Dalmar grabbed the stein by its handle, refilling his own with the contents of Sh'lzzt rejected brew. Shrugging and smiling, Dalmar soon put the metal cup to his lips and drained its contents as he did once before. "Dalmar..." Sh'lzzt began with a pause. "We're getting to the end of my knowledge of the surrounding areas, and we may not find what we're looking for in the areas to the north of here. Is there anywhere that you wish to go?"
"Well, there's a change, my friend." Dalmar retorted.
"What do you mean, Dalmar?" Sh'lzzt quickly responded as his sat upright with his elbows on the table, leaning in towards his friend.
"I just meant that through this whole ordeal, you've never asked my opinion or feelings on anything." Dalmar shrugged again as his eyes turned away from Sh'lzzt's stare. "Thanks, is all." Sh'lzzt's gaze softened, and he smiled at his friend.
"As that may be, it still leaves the question...." Sh'lzzt returned, focusing on the original query.
"Well, truth be told, I do have business in Glorsheim. I didn't mention it because we were already traveling north." Dalmar said.
"What's in Glorsheim?" Sh'lzzt asked.
"I told you when we met that I was traveling from Undhkiel, remember? Well, just a week before that I was in northern Glorsheim, fighting for the causes of Thorfinn of Irongard, the king of those areas. We were fighting a horde of orcs in an area called Balder that were laying claim to the region." Dalmar paused when Sh'lzzt's eyebrow rose.
"You don't strike me as a soldier, Dalmar. I've heard of Irongard, but it's a little difficult to imagine you traveling that far in a week." Sh'lzzt pointed out to his friend in disbelief. "What is it that you aren't telling me, Dalmar?" he continued.
"I'm getting to that." Dalmar began again. "I was scouting ahead to warn a company of men of an impending legion of orcs heading their way when I stopped to take the time to warn some travelers of the danger that they were in by traveling towards the orcs. Having let my guard down for a moment, I was attacked by a swarm of archers. When I awoke, I was in a cell held by a man named Xander. Xander is a wizard and a madman. He is in league with the orcs, and when I confronted him with the deaths of the men I was to warn, I quickly found myself high above the castle to die. A great, ferocious bird came down and scooped me from my platform high above the walls of the castle Draftengil, and whisked me away to the Eastern Sea off the shores of Undhkiel. " Dalmar stopped and sat back into his chair. Sh'lzzt's eyes were wider now, partly from disbelief but in part from the incredible nature of Dalmar's story.
"Indeed, Dalmar of Morguon, there is more to you than meets the eye. I admit, however, it's a bit difficult to swallow as you men say. Certainly, you embellish a bit?" Sh'lzzt also sat back into his chair, and folded his arms as he looked at his friend with a whimsical stare.
"I do not embellish, Sh'lzzt!" Dalmar's tone grew with frustration at Sh'lzzt's accusation and disbelief. "I swear it to you: that is what happened. At what point did you find it so easy to find me a liar?" Dalmar grew thoroughly frustrated with his friend as he slammed his fist down on the table, cracking the boards of the table and toppling the two steins onto the floor. The loud, abrupt noise caught the attention of the innkeeper and the people of the town as the a hush came over the room. Sh'lzzt's eyes darted around the room and back at the innkeeper who nodded to one of the barmaids.
"I'm sorry, Dalmar. Trusting men doesn't come easy to we elves. Forgive me. At no point have you proven to be anything but honorable and true to your word. It's obvious you have an abnormal sense and ability about you, and that is consistent with the incredible nature of your story. Besides, men often embellish their experiences. It's really rather annoying, and it makes it hard to trust most men." Sh'lzzt said as he leaned on the broken table.
"Oy! Wot 'ave you two dun' to th' table? You brok'er!" a shrill voice broke the tension from behind and above Sh'lzzt. "You'll 'ave t' pay for 'dis, ya' rapscahl'yuns!" The wide, red-haired barmaid of some sixty years leaned back on her hips and placed her arms akimbo, her piercing stare of discontent burying itself into their eyes and mind. "Henry, they've brok'n th' table!" she shouted towards the innkeeper. The much larger man of considerable younger years looked at Sh'lzzt from across the room and put down the dirty stein onto the bar as he removed his apron and made his way into the room proper.
"Well, so much for sleeping in a bed...." Dalmar said as he watched the large, hairy man strut over to the scene. The sounds of chairs began to screech across the stone floor of the inn as the onlookers, held silent by fear and curiosity, watched the scene from a growing distance. Dalmar stood up as he kept his eyes on the large man cracking his knuckles as he seemed to snort through his bushy, brown mustache. As he rose, he bumped the table which conveniently fell into two pieces on the floor, spilling its contents in a clang of pewter and wood. Dalmar and Shl'zzt, both standing now, looked at each other, each with matching looks of disbelief and raised eyebrows.
"My dear, maid, of course we'll pay for the damages, and we'll be on our way." Sh'lzzt said as he turned to the barmaid.
"Right'choo will!" the old woman said as Sh'lzzt turned to Dalmar in expectation.
"What?" Dalmar said to his friend's expectant expression, still slightly annoyed from the previous conversation. Dalmar sighed as he produced a silver coin and handed it to Sh'lzzt who passed it on to the old woman.
"Wot izz dis'? Are ye 'avin a bit o' fun? Thar table's wirth a'leas' a gold azz its bin' in ma' fam'lee's 'ouse fo' gen'rayshuns!" the old woman snarled. Sh'lzzt turned to Dalmar again. Dalmar looked at Sh'lzzt and then into his bag of coins and pulled out a gold coin and handed it to Sh'lzzt. Sh'lzzt held out a bare hand to the old woman. The barmaid stared at Sh'lzzt's open hand and scoffed.
"Oh, no ya' don't! Yer' not gettin' your silv'r bak! Tha'ss fo' yor' supp'r!" said the old wench, the larger man staring down on Sh'lzzt who was a full two heads shorter than he. Sh'lzzt looked at the large innkeeper and then into the eyes of the barmaid, and then produced the gold coin once again and handed it over. Sh'lzzt's eyebrows lowered for the first time during the confrontation, and Dalmar could tell that Sh'lzzt had finally grown annoyed by the advantage the innkeeper and the barmaid had taken of them and the situation. Sh'lzzt snorted as he turned towards Dalmar.
"Let's go." Sh'lzzt said sternly at Dalmar as Dalmar returned a nod to his friend. The two adventurers, once again found themselves out in the natural environment, each angry at the two inside the inn, but equally as angry at the silly situation that fell upon them by mere chance. The walk to the edge of town was enshrouded in the fumes of annoyance and contemplation. Each footstep seem as if its maker was stomping the ground, and each step was as if made by stone giants with deliberate intention. Finally, Dalmar's temper subsided altogether ahead of Sh'lzzt's.
"Ok, it's my fault!" Dalmar exclaimed, stopping Sh'lzzt in his tracks. Sh'lzzt's face was one of rage now as he addressed his comrade.
"Dalmar, I'm not mad at you! There was no way that you knew that table was going to break! I'm not even mad about having to sleep in the forest tonight!" Sh'lzzt barked.
"Then what the hell are you mad at?" Dalmar responded curiously.
"They were lying, Dalmar. Those greedy bastards took advantage of the situation and saw an opportunity to bully two people for their money! " Sh'lzzt gritted his teeth and rung his fists in the air as the very thought of not being able to control the potentially volatile situation. Sh'lzzt was torn between the dishonesty of the situation and having to return to Oberon in the future. Dalmar sensed his ire and tried to diffuse some of Sh'lzzt's rage.
"Well, get mad! But in the end it was my gold! I should be the one to be mad!" Dalmar said with a muffled chuckle. Sh'lzzt stopped as Dalmar finished and looked at him, the words piercing into his head as Dalmar actually made sense. Sh'lzzt's face turned to a crooked smile.
"You know...." said Sh'lzzt. "You're right, and actually, I got a free meal out of this." Sh'lzzt said as he chuckled. Dalmar's eyes widened suddenly, and then he raised his eyebrow at Sh'lzzt.
"Now that you mention it...." Dalmar said with a smirk. He opened his hand to Sh'lzzt in anticipation of the returned silver coin. Sh'lzzt looked at Dalmar's open hand, and his face changed from it's comedic refuge.
"Fine, but next time I'll let you talk your way out of that situation." Sh'lzzt said as he handed over a silver coin from his pouch.
"What makes you think there'll be a next time?" Dalmar asked of his friend. As Dalmar's face looked over Sh'lzzt's grin, Dalmar paused in his thinking to focus on what his comrade's change of expression could mean. Sh'lzzt lifted his chin, and began walking back over the hill towards the town of Oberon. Dalmar turned and ran to catch up to his friend.
"Wait a minute! You're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?" Dalmar bellowed as he tugged at his friend's shoulder to stop his gait.
"What do you think, Dalmar?" Sh'lzzt directed as he looked Dalmar in his eyes.
"I think you're thinking of going back in there, that's what I think." Dalmar said.
"No, you silly man, what do you THINK?" Sh'lzzt said as he emphasized the notion of Dalmar's feelings of the idea of returning to The Raven's Roost. Dalmar stopped and thought for a second, finally understanding his friend. Once again, Sh'lzzt asked him how he felt, and Dalmar smiled.
"You bastard, you did it again. Twice in one day! How do I feel about it?" Dalmar said as Sh'lzzt grinned again at his friend, the two making the same face at one another. "I feel like we should."
"Good." Sh'lzzt agreed. "But we'll have to have a plan. As for now, back to town. I'm suddenly in the mood to buy a horse, and perhaps you should, too, Dalmar. This walking everywhere is growing tiresome." Sh'lzzt smiled as he set pace once again. Dalmar's raised his eyebrow as he did several times during the day, wondering what made Sh'lzzt suddenly want to buy a horse and what buying a horse had to do with anything. By this time, the moon had found its halfway mark across the sky, and shone with full brilliance after a short rain in the early evening. A low fog had begun to creep across the open areas of the encirclement of the small, mountainous area. Dalmar decided to let his curiosity remain unanswered as he caught back up to Sh'lzzt. He was sure that the rest of the night would prove to be one for remembering, and he felt excited as he had no idea what Sh'lzzt had in store, He was very pleased that he finally got to see a side of Sh'lzzt he had never dreamed of seeing, and perhaps through their travels they had actually grown together in a strange brotherly fashion. His friend seemed a little less like an elf and more human in some ways, and his rough exterior had begun to crumble in some crazy way. The term friend was no longer a simple term of address. For the first time during their journeys together, Dalmar finally, actually found a friend rather than merely someone with which to travel.
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