Chapter 39: Ch.35: Preparations : (Elenaril’s POV)

Humpbeast; Orn’ghoc, Gibba Bellustica- is the ship of the Dust. It is a prized creature for those who live in areas with a scarcity of water and vegetation that would otherwise be uninhabitable for other beasts of burden or mounts like einhyrnd, brunhorn and alpine goats. It has a hide that can be anything between grey or brown,and some specimens have been known to stand at 3.2 metra tall at the shoulder. Its bulky body is adapted for storing fat for those lean times in the desert. Although this creature cuts an imposing figure, it is a gentle colossus and a very social beast…” from Philiarz Oonswarner’s Bestiary for Adventurers.

---

Elenaril was happy after her request was witnessed by the big dwarf himself. Yondouk the [Aersmith] had seen to it that her overseer allocated more shift hours. The young sylvani's coin pouch had never been heavier. Between her new schedule and shifts, Elenaril would occasionally go out with Hanna for lunch at the Melting Pot, a modest restaurant the human girl had been eyeing.

While everything was on Hanna’s tab, it was harder to pick what she wanted when confronted with the choices on the menu. Her frugality was doing her a disservice, so much so that it took Hanna to pick the menu out for her. And that was much to the chagrin of her lunch mate who envied her sylvani metabolism, because she could not have all the dessert she wanted.

Not that one didn't encounter well-endowed sylvani, but those were practically homebodies with non-combat classes. They were very few and far between because the sylvani just had a penchant for being active people, always on the move. Elenaril was the oddity because she’d stayed in Aldmoor for as long as she did.

Sometimes, when time was on her side, she would drop by the Guild to check on the supplies for the tier up expedition. Though consorting with Quinten, [Warrior] of Wyvern's Woe left a bitter taste in her mouth, she could not turn down overseeing the evaluation.

Elenaril was hoping that the man would not make things difficult because their promotion to Silver rank was riding on their good behaviour. However, people rarely changed in the span of two nundines. Some people were audacious like that. Case in point, Quinten would often feign browsing the magical wares just so he could chat up Elenaril when he heard she was putting more quartz at Yondouk’s.

Elenaril would often take everything in stride, adopting her business-like smile and keeping her composure. Her coworkers pitied her, of course. Sometimes, someone would jump in before things escalated too far. Elenaril wondered how the other members of Wyvern’s Woe put up with Quinten—she would have to ask the team’s captain when they got to their first meeting.

---

On her off- day from Yondouk’s, Elenaril met up with the younger of the Stringsong sisters and her party. They met one afternoon in the guild’s meeting lounges to hash out the details of their evaluation.

Elenaril was acquainted with some of them, but not to the point of familiarity. Nonetheless, the Bronze rank team was on a meteoric rise. Word on the vine attributed it to Ahnaestra’s ambition, and many of the desk staff at the guild were already in the know.

The younger of the Stringsong sisters was always in the shadow of the elder. The older Stringsong was a Gold rank adventurer in an equally strong adventuring party.

Ahnaestra’s party, the Wyvern’s Woe was made up of a [Mage], a [Ranger], a [Rogue], a [Warrior] and an [Archer] with Ahnaestra taking up the archer position. As far as compositions went, the party was not a bad fit but their main strength was on long range offence.

“Hail weald sister,” Ahnaestra saluted, with her hand to her left breast. “ May Oonaris smile on the quartz of our meeting,”

“May Oonaris smile on the quartz of our meeting,” Elenaril responded with a salute of her own. The other members of the party gave their own awkward mumbled greetings as Elenaril motioned that they sit.

“I see four of you here. You’re one man short,” Elenaril observed as she took a seat across from them. The guild lounges had austere furnishings and fixtures, a false window with a vent and sconces of chromastone. It was also warded against eavesdropping.

“Elenaril is my name and I shall see to your merit evaluation for Silver rank,” she folded her legs. The sylvmaid adjusted her olive green skirt as she looked over the documents at hand. It was just out of professionalism, but she couldn’t have been bothered less that Quinten the [Warrior] was not around.

All the same, it wasn’t her problem as long as they made sure everything was in order before the expedition. There was about a nundine and a couple of days remaining.

“What he does with his time is of no consequence so long as he does not sloth at his job,” Ahnaestra curtly replied, long ears wobbling with a shrug. The other sylvmaid had bound hair the colour of fall maple leaves in a severe bun.

“ My apologies weald sister, Ahnaestra is my name,” she added. The simple hairdo brought more attention to her heart shaped face. The refined nose, with a straight bridge and narrow nostrils like hers, was much admired by human women everywhere. She was dressed in typical Sylvani clothing with olive greens and browns.

Elenaril nodded and pursed her lips as she looked over the rest of the party. They did not seem all that surprised by the development. In fact, they treated it as a given.

“Quinten may somewhat be something of a poor character—,” the [Mage] began as he read his companion’s expressions. Elenaril arched her eyebrows questioningly at the tawny haired mage. He had an aquiline nose, blue eyes and a diamond shaped face.

“ Pardons, my manners escape me sometimes. I am Ralf Wynmenor, a [Mage]. No specialisations currently, just a generalist—” the human added, putting away his spell tome.

“Mmh.” Elenaril nodded, noting that Ralf had tan skin. ‘Must be from further south,’ she thought.

“But when it comes to his skill as an adventurer, he is a better vanguard. Therefore, it would be remiss of me to judge him harshly.”

“What about the rest of you?” Elenaril asked, raring to get the meeting started.

“Heh,” replied the Canis ranger. “On the field he follows the plan, so that’s that,” she scratched at her lupine ears. The woman had a round face with angular cheeks and large almond shaped eyes with amber irises.

Where Elenaril’s and Ahnaestra’s sylvani ears were long and tapered off, the Canis’ ears were furred and cupped but angular compared to a Murid’s. They were also more animated and twitched at the smallest sounds. Some Sylvani druids could almost mimic Canis ears. Her tail, the same colour as her salt and pepper hair, lay on her lap like a furry shawl.

“Yssinia, “the Canis said, smilingly revealing her prominent canines. As befit her heritage she also had a snub nose that was diamond shaped and a deeper shade of pink. Like her counterparts, she was rather indifferent about Quinten’s absence.

The last member of the party to introduce himself, the [Rogue] merely grunted his name and went silent afterwards. His name was Triston and he was a Djy’veli whose human side had won out over his other parentage; a possible, if uncommon occurrence.

The only way you could tell is if you scrutinised his forehead long enough to see the nubs of recessive horns among his bangs. However, he wore a cowl with the hood drawn. Even his complexion was different from other Djy’veli and could have been mistaken for a human with a darker complexion.

‘Mmh, guess he rarely speaks because his Duster accent might just give him away. Wonder how he’s even partied with them this long,’ mused Elenaril after looking up the Djy’veli details in the documents she brought.

“Very well then. Since Quinten’s absence seems to be a non-issue.” Elenaril sighed as placed the pieces of parchment on the table. She folded her hands over her lap as she gathered her thoughts, “We’ll get started with the preliminaries.”

“ First off, since you know it’ll be a two nundine excursion I presume that you know to get your supplies from the Guild. They’re always subsidised for expeditions like these. As for the mounts, well, those you’ll have to rent. Unless you have your own?” The party shook their heads as a negative.

Nodding in acknowledgement , she continued, “Then I can put in a request for you if you want, might get a Guild discount.”

“Oh, why so early?” Ralf the [Mage] asked.

“It’s always prudent to be prepared in advance,” Ahnaestra pointed out. “ Aldmoor has much traffic in need of draught beasts.”

“I see…” Ralf nodded, rubbing his chin contemplatively.

‘A sheltered mage perhaps, Titled lastborn? I haven’t heard of a house called Wynmenor. Must be a long way from home…Kingsfell or somewhere else along the sea. ’

“So then, should I put in a request for you? I’ll just leave you to take care of the rest of the things. “ Elenaril asked.

“By all means, we’d appreciate it,” said Ahnaestra as she looked from her team to her fellow sylvmaiden.

‘Acts aloof one time and interested in another. She must have something to prove thanks to her sister.’

“Good then, I’ll get a flock of volucitrex. They should be nimble about the Faeriweald’s terrain.” Elenaril suggested

“Are you sure about that? Those mean stubborn fowl? You know, big beaks with teeth?” Yssinia fidgeted as she looked towards her captain.

“Yes, have a problem with them?” Elenaril’s brows rose while she thought ‘So, which one of them is the captain? The Canis or the sibling?’

“Er, not sure about that. Not that I’m complaining but I’d rather get a brúnhorn or a muldyr wagon. Terror fowl don’t seem to like me much.”

“ Hmm, volucitrex are cheaper but fine, we’ll get alternative mounts if that’s a problem. The discount might still apply.” That she noted down in her documents.

“Finally, the meat of the matter. Your mission is to scout and map the third level of the Fetid Woods and defeat at least one bone spriggan. Then gather all the materials as per the bestiary. The dungeon has already been mapped before so the floor should be manageable for your rank. Also, you should brush up on the monsters you’re likely to meet. “

“On what basis are we to be evaluated?” Ralf asked inquisitively.

“Let’s see,” said Elenaril as she retrieved and shuffled the parchments to get the details she wanted. “Mmh, there’s preparedness for the delve, coordination between team members’ offence and defence. Situational awareness and finally retrieval and preservation of materials,” she quoted.

“Are you participating in the delve? I hope you can protect yourself.”

“Goodness, no. I’ll give you scrying crystals and will be observing from the dungeon’s safe zone. But mageslates don’t have that big of a range outside dungeons so it’ll have to be nearby.” Elenaril replied to the mage as she retrieved a quartz-like crystal from her skirt pockets.

“ That said, I am already Silver ranked and capable of defending myself and even stepping in to help so you shouldn’t have to worry about me” she grinned.

“ Truly?” Ralf asked sceptically.

“Hmm,” Elenaril said. “ I am reasonably skilled with swordcraft and spellcraft. Now then let’s discuss the rest of the details―”

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The sylvani added that she would receive the mageslate on the day of the expedition since there were few of them in circulation. After the participants had discussed the relevant details Elenaril left them to their own devices as she went to the guild’s front desk

“How was it?” Hana piped up from her work.

“Eh…just so and so.” Elenaril replied as she got a satchel for her documents.

“But that doesn’t tell me anything. I wish I was as combat capable as you. Even though you don’t have the class you can go to the Faeriweald Shallows just fine.”

“Oh? I don’t recall telling you I went to the wealds.”

“A [Socialite] has her secrets,” Hana winked.

“Fine then have it your way, “Elenaril smirked playfully, slinging the satchel over her shoulder. “Lunch same time next time?”

“Oh, sure!” Hana piped up,clapping her hands.

---

Elenaril left the guild behind and stepped into the afternoon streets of Aldmoor. It was around the fourth quartz past noon and she noticed just how fast time had flown while in the meeting. She just had enough time to get to a stable hand that leased mounts to the Guild. The said stables were towards the direction of the main gate of the town.

The sylvmaid looked at the walls posed against the shining sun and sighed; it was quite a walk. Elenaril would have gone somewhere nearer, but such establishments did not rent mounts out to adventurers because of occupational hazards.

Thus, she started strolling along the main thoroughfare, her head turning this way and that way as she passed other pedestrians on the streets. Towards the gates were the inns that catered to adventurers, including Halen’s inn, the Griffin’s Roost. Perhaps an apt name because it was as noisy as a griffin’s nest especially during the late afternoons when most adventurers were looking to unwind.

It spoke to the popularity of Halen’s inn despite his levels as an innkeeper being below the average for Aldmoor. He pulled clients because he knew adventurers’ preferences. As she passed through, she heard, rather than saw, how packed it was courtesy of the noise spilling onto the main street. She shook her head in amusement and got on her way.

The main thoroughfare was, as usual, still busy, although activity seemed to be winding down towards the gate as commuting wagoneers cantered past on their brow-horned mounts or avian mounts. The grocer at the corner was already marking down their prices in preparation for the evening, and most taverns had begun cooking their evening meals to be reheated later.

She caught a whiff of the aroma from the Brass Stove tavern, the Stuffed Grouse, and the Hexed Pot across the street. Those would soon be packed to bursting with adventurers. Even the Bottomless Barrel was stocking up on their liquor from a muldyr wagon. Elenaril could also see straight past the raised portcullis to the road beyond, adventurers that called this town their home were coming back from Chasm’s Edge after their delving runs.

She cast her eyes about, taking note of the races walking around; a few Corvani with their feathered heads, using their large wings as cloaks; a Faeles adventurer in figure hugging leathers light on her feet, a centaur rancher with a wide brimmed hat, who’d brought an auroch bull to the butchers. The black bovine looked like it could gore a wall, but the male centaur had everything well in hand.

Getting to the stables meant that she also passed through Havenwold Street in the Sojourner's Quarter. The thoroughfare was named by the first pioneers after they saw the rolling knolls. It had the oldest streets and buildings in Aldmoor.

After the settlement had grown into a town, the descendants moved inwards, and the quarter that was left behind became known as the Sojourner's Quarter. Elenaril supposed that it fit the general mien to a tee.

Sojourner's Quarter was always in flux with new movements from adventurers or new families coming to start their lives anew. It was also because the quarter was for temporary accommodations, which the adventurers loved to frequent.

Rent was cheap, and the houses were rustic constructions of timber frames and magically reinforced adobe. Some of the later renovations even had brick and ashenrock mortar. Much of the hardy petrified timber from the original construction also remained as a testament to their persistence.

The houses were crowded in a cosy way, sometimes with overhangs and awnings that touched. Those who did not care for the manic life of living in taverns and inns could also lease cruck houses that had lofts for more space in the Residential Quarter.

Houses in the Sojourner's Quarter might have been old, but the Titled merchant council made sure that they were well maintained. For a frontier town, Aldmoor had done its utmost to keep up with the influx of people since its inception. Even the worst off were few and far between. There was always work to do, what with the dwarven outpost of Chasm’s Edge a wagon ride away.

The bustling sky port received a fleet of northern bound ships travelling on the winds of the Chasm every nundine. It served as a rest stop before they went into the interior. With adventurers thrown into the mix and the Great Faeriwealds on the opposite side of the Chasm, opportunity was never lacking.

As she approached the wall, Elenaril was shaken out of her reverie by the sentry golem by the gate watching over incoming queues. Something about a sentient being made of rock just unsettled her. She didn’t dwell for long as she turned onto another street to arrive at the largest stables in Aldmoor.

Vylora’s Hearth of Steeds and Draughts was the name of the establishment. The proprietor was a sylvmaiden whose stables catered to different mounts; from the flightless volucitrex, the brow-horned brunhorn, to the dwarven alpine goats.

Vylora also kept hardy muldyr who could match the terror fowl in stubbornness and could even eat your hair and spit in your face if they didn't like you.

If someone had gold to spare, a charging einhyrnd stallion trained and bred to stand its ground against beasts could also be found, though those were always on a waiting list.

The proprietor also had roosts for those with wyverns and griffins. With the amount of labour, roosts and stables the Vylora’s Hearth of Steeds and Draughts almost qualified as a menagerie with its large selection of mounts.

Perhaps the fact that the woman who ran the place was a [Druid] and [Beast Trainer] explained the orderliness of the beasts despite different instinctual predilections.

As she walked towards the frontage, she saw the portcullis raise to let out a lumbering humpbeast, pulling a carriage that was three wagons long but evidently outfitted with smaller wheels. Handlers were bustling around the 3 metra tall gentle giant, guiding it with reins as it drew the wagon train. She could feel the ground tremble with each step of the beast.

‘New additions?’ thought Elenaril as she looked at the beast warily. A wagoneer sat high on the saddle seat, with reins that were more like poles connected to the bridle.

“Ah, Elenaril! What brings you here?” said a grey haired slyvmaiden who seemingly appeared out of nowhere and enveloped her in a hug.

“Mmrphg! Mastresse Vylora you stink of muldyr.” Elenaril protested, squirming at the invasion of her personal space.

“My, how feisty you have become, Elenaril. You used to cling to my skirts when you were younger,” the stablewoman stepped back, all the while cupping her cheek in mock wistfulness.

‘What are you saying? I barely knew you two decades ago,’ Elenaril left unspoken as she narrowed her eyes at the sprightly woman, way too active for her age. She was well into her late sixties. Age was just a number on her and the only way you could tell she was one of the oldest people around was her crow’s feet and the laughter lines that creased lightly as she smiled. For some sylvani, the late sixities were just like their late thirties if you were to compare them to humans.

“Well then, tell me. I assume you are here on guild business?” said Vylora as she watched Elenaril brush off mohair from her uniform with a barely contained grimace.

“I need six mounts for an expedition next nundine. Probably around the last day.” Elena said as they watched the multi-train wagon head towards the gate.

“Evaluation?” Vylora asked.

“Yea, how’d you know?”

“The [Quartermastresse] passed by earlier in the nundine. Said to help you get what you need since it’s your first evaluation. I’ll have them saddled and ready by then. Only the best for my little Lena.” Her eyes twinkled as she regarded Elenaril.

“New mounts?” Elenaril asked as she pointed to the wagons.

“Hmm, einhyrnds” the older sylvani nodded. “ Brought in from from Guernemyr through Kingsfell. Six breeding pairs of mares and stallions.”

“ It must have cost a fortune,” Elenaril mumbled, thinking how much it would have cost to purchase the unihorned equines, get them onto an aership with enough feed to last them the three to four nundines they would take from Kingsfell to Chasm’s Edge.

“Now come. I am sure you would want to see them up close, ” Vylora said, beckoning the younger sylvmaiden to follow her as they went up into the main building. Elenaril hummed in acquiescence as she followed in the woman’s heels up the ramp.

Above the timber frame, quarry stone and mortar facade, old as the town itself, were the wooden signage and banners that marked the stables' main building. It was hard to mistake the building for anything else. The old building was built like a fortress, with a barbican and an arched entrance.

The main signage was mounted against three wagon wheels in the background and had the relief of hoofshoes decorating its margins. The building had two entrances, the portcullis gate and the ramped double doors made so centaurs could canter into the building.

The floor was covered in sawdust, making it doubly easier to clean because of the nature of the patrons. Adventurers, frontier steaders, farmers, and merchants frequented the stalls at the end, where they received tokens for draught animals or mounts before heading towards the door at the furthest left in the stables proper. There, they would give the token to a [Stablehand] or [Hostler] who would escort them to a beast or fowl of their choice.

The stable building had a layout almost like that of the Guild building. Stairs leading to the first floor were to the left of the lobby, closed off by a folding grate.

Ebonwood made up the ceiling and beams, petrified and dried by high level arbourmancy to be tougher than dwarf steel. The building had an old musty smell like all the pioneer buildings in Aldmoor.

Fortunately, it was well kept and did not end up with the reek of old sweat and beasts. The fragrant sawdust floor must have been part of that. And neither was it dreary because of the few windows or because an old chromastone fixture was always lit above the lobby.

The proprietor, who just happened to be the woman she was trailing, passed by the counter and used the employee’s passageway to head to the back. Elenaril followed, and they were soon at the back entrance.

Without further ado, Vylora flung open the back entrance to the stables proper, and they stepped into the multi storey stables of the Hearth of Steed and Draught. No matter how many times she’d seen it, Elenaril was always awed by seeing the pens, paddocks, and roosts that took up quite an estate inside Aldmoor’s walls.

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