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Rated: 18+ · Novel · Fantasy · #692840
Raven arrives at Seaford's Landing. A warrior helps a friend.

"Raven's Quest - Chapter 2 - QuintlarOpen in new Window.



Chapter 3



Raven cautiously entered the Inn suddenly struck with a wave of nervousness. The feeling didn’t last long, however, as she looked around the welcoming room. It was large and airy with glass-pained windows overlooking the wharf and the bay. There were brightly colored rag rugs covering the floor and a white stone hearth that dominated most of the southern wall. Tables and chairs had been arranged in small groupings inviting patrons to sit, socialize, and have private conversations. The walls were covered with paintings of birds, sailing vessels and the sea, as well as shells and different items that looked as if they had been collected from the beach. A large, bleached wood staircase descended one side of the room and a doorway lead into another room to the north. Next to the stairs was a beautiful, long desk made of bleached wood with a sandstone top.

Standing beside the desk Raven noticed a man toiling intently over some books. He was middle aged with short sun-bleached brown hair and small brown eyes. The clothes he wore were rather plain, and his white apron stained from much use. He was wearing a blue cotton shirt and brown trousers with hearty work boots on his feet. He was of average height and was a bit soft around the middle. He had the features of a human but his slender pointed ears gave away his elven blood.

“Umm, excuse me but are you Smoot?” she asked tentatively approaching the desk.

“Hello Miss and welcome to the Dragon’s Tear. Yep, Smoot’s my name. Me and my wife, Elina, run this place, how can I help you?” he greeted her happily.

“Well Met, Smoot. Brother Olag told me to come see you about a room, I’m Raven. I was hoping you had one available,” she replied, smiling at him broadly.

Smoot thumbed through his register, scanning for room openings.

“Let me check my book. Aye, sure do. How long you going to be in Seaford’s? It’s two silvers a week, but you’re a friend of Olag so I’ll make it two silvers with meals included. The dining room is through that doorway and Elina does all the cooking. She makes the best gooseberry pie in town.” He added proudly with an appreciative pat to this round middle section. “How is Olag? I haven’t seen him since…” he thought a moment scratching his chin, “gosh, must have been over a year ago. Boy, time flies!” he added laughingly.

“That sounds wonderful, thank you. I’m not sure how long I’ll be here, but I think this will keep my room for a while. As for Brother Olag he was headed for the temple to see what was needed. He told me he would be the new cleric there for a while,” Raven informed him while handing him four silver coins.

“Aye, we’ve been without a cleric for some time now, glad to see they replaced him with a good man. Olag will have his work cut out for him I’m sure.” Leaning closer to her he glanced around the room as he continued in a hushed voice.” I’ve heard Brother Nethwen may not have died a natural death, if you know what I mean” he added with a sly wink.” But then that’s just the local gossip.”

“Not natural? You mean murder? Who would murder a man of the temple?" Raven asked quietly.

“Like I said, just talk, but it does make you wonder a bit.” Straightening his posture he grabbed a key from the wall behind him. “Anyhow, here’s a key you’ll need. There’s a trunk in your room where you can store your gear,” he told her handing her the key. “Just make sure you lock it when you leave. There are folks around here that would take your gear in a second if you didn’t. Now, it’s the last door at the end of the hall on your west, and if you need anything just let us know.”

“Thank you,” she nodded to him appreciatively, and then headed up the stairs in search of her room.

She stopped as she came to her room, took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. Walking inside, she stopped and looked around in awe. The room wasn’t big but the large window made up for that. The view was beautiful. She could watch the fishing boats coming in and out of the bay and the seagulls flying on the air currents. The light breeze wafting through the open window tugged at the loose hairs framing her face. What a lovely room, she thought depositing her backpack and other items on the bed. There was a chair and table next to the window, and the window had light flowing curtains that danced in the breeze. On the table were an oil lamp and some matches and on the wall was a small round mirror framed with seashells. The ash-framed bed was soft and inviting with its light blue coverlet and pillow. In the corner was a small pot-bellied wood burner that would keep the room warm during the chilly nights. She noticed the woodbox was empty and made a mental note to ask Smoot for some small logs and kindling later. The trunk, sitting at the foot of the bed, was large with hammered iron slats and a big lock. In the middle of the floor was a braided rug the color of sand, giving the room the feeling of being on a beach.

It was just before nightfall and the sky was vividly colored with the setting sun. Bright pinks, yellows and purples streaked the horizon over the deep blue waves. A perfect ending to her day she thought as she sat down in the chair to eat the food she had packed and watched the sun sink into the ocean. She decided she would go looking for work the next day, but for now she would enjoy her peace and quite.

After finishing her meal Raven went downstairs with her box and asked Smoot for the wood. He told her it could be found behind the Inn and after gathering what she needed she headed back upstairs to her room and started a small fire in the burner. A shiver ran down her spine as the cold wind of night blew in the open window. Glad to have the burner lit she walked over to the window and closed the glass pane. Folding her arms around her in an attempt to quell another chill she took a moment to gaze out over the twinkling lamplights of the wharf into the darkness beyond. She tried in vain to stifle a yawn and decided it was time for sleep. Changing into her nightshift she climbed into bed, sinking deeply in to the soft down mattress. Raven relaxed and fell asleep listening to the rhythmic pounding of the waves crashing on the beach. That night she dreamt of sailing ships and sandy beaches, grassy fields and wildflowers.

She woke the next morning early to the cries of seagulls and the shouts of fishermen ready to start the day. Opening the trunk she pulled out a plain blouse and crimson skirt. She was gathering her boots when someone knocked at her door.

“Yes?” she asked tentatively.

“Is the maid, Miss. I’ve brought you some water to wash with. May I come in?” came the muffled voice from the hall.

“Oh yes please,” Raven replied smiling as she opened the door, the maid entering with a small basin of water. “Put it on the table please.”

“Aye, Miss,” said the young girl as she placed the basin on the small table. “My name is Zosia," avoiding eye contact as she gave a small curtsy and a shy smile.

“I’m Raven.”

Raven smiled at the girl but the girl never looked up. Instead the girl just stared at the floor and she took a moment to study the shy girl.

Zosia must have been no older than 15 years old with very long auburn hair and small almond shaped blue eyes. Raven noticed the girl was thin, not much more than skin and bones, and her green homespun dress hung on her, the white apron emphasizing how tiny her waist really was. She had a pretty face that was smudged with soot, and her hands were small and delicate. Raven wondered how she had the strength to be a serving maid. It wasn’t an easy life. There was something about the girl that made Raven a little uneasy, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Thank you, Zosia, when’s breakfast?” Raven asked cheerfully, shrugging off her thoughts about the girl.

“It’s always served just after first light, Elina likes to have it fresh for the patrons that start their day early. Do you need anything else?” rang the small shy voice.

“No thank you, this is all I need. I’ll be down for breakfast soon,” Raven said as the girl slipped out the door, shutting it quietly behind her.

Raven listened to the girl’s soft footsteps fade down the hall, and then went to the basin to wash her face. The cold water was refreshing and made her skin tingle pleasantly. After drying her face she pulled on her blouse and skirt, then put on her boots. Raven opened her backpack and pulled out her horsehair brush then walked over and sat in the chair. She brushed her hair as she watched the morning unfold outside her window. After braiding her hair and securing it with her lovely barrette she turned to look at the reflection in the mirror.

Was she really that woman? Was she ready for her new life? She silently gazed into her gray eyes, wishing just a little that she were still a little girl playing at Kanatry's cottage. Life was so simple then, she thought with a heart felt sigh. Shaking her head, she cleared the doubting thoughts, turning back to the mirror. Her fair skin was kissed with a hint of color from her walk the day before and her waist length hair neat and shining in the light streaming through the window. “Well Raven, good luck,” she said aloud as she locked her belongings in the trunk, placing the key inside a pocket in her boot. She whispered a quick prayer to the Lord and Lady above as she headed downstairs to breakfast.

“Lord and Lady, Sun and Moon
Bless this day, and the night to come
Keep me safe, spirit, flesh and blood”



-------------------------------------------------


Quintlar awoke feeling like he’d been kicked in the head. Groaning he willed himself to sit up and open his eyes. At first the room spun and he felt like he was going to be sick, then he took a deep breath slowly filling his lungs. He held his breath for a moment then counted to ten as he exhaled. He started the breathing exercises his mother had taught him after a few nights of too much wine and ale a few years ago. He had to admit they helped quite a bit. He could hear snores of those in the barracks that were still sleeping and quietly got up to use the privy. On his way back he walked by Miksus’ cot and kicked, it causing the man to startle awake, flail and land on the floor with a resounding thud. Most were awake by then and it caused the other men in the barracks to roll with laughter.

“Good Morning, Miksus, get up. We’ve got things to do today,” Quintlar greeted him a bit too loud and cheerful and was rewarded with a glare from his friend. “How’s the head?” he asked.

“Fardlings, Quint, have ye no mercy!” Miksus swore back at him, muttering something in elven that Quintlar couldn’t understand. “I was having the most wonderfully lustful dream about Merle and ye had to ruin it,” he retorted pitifully moaning as he grabbed his head.

“Aye, I’m sure you were, now get your lazy elven butt off the floor. You and I’ve got somewhere to go and a debt to settle and I’d like to do it before practice,” Quintlar teased with a nudge of his foot.

“I’m up, I’m up!” Miksus said struggling to his feet and holding his head. ”Good Lady above how much ale did we drink? My head’s going to explode.”

Quintlar laughed while he explained the breathing technique, but it didn’t seem to work as well on Miksus. He laughed at Miksus, and then headed back to his cot and trunk, gathered his clothes and quickly dressed. He dug to the bottom of the trunk and lifted the silver they would need out of a small pouch. They made a decent wage at the guild and Quintlar thought if he could keep Miksus from gambling, his friend would have him paid back in no time. After getting dressed he went outside to wait for Miksus in the crisp morning air. A few moments later Miksus strolled through the door to meet Quintlar. Stretching with a jaw-popping yawn, Miksus joined Quintlar in the morning lit courtyard. Quintlar had started some morning exercises while he was waiting, and Miksus joined in for a few stretches.

“So, ye meant what ye said last night? Yer going to help me with my Verrak problem?” A look of relief mixed with doubt played on Miksus’ face as he looked at his friend.

“Aye, I meant every word. I never joke about helping friends. We’re going to pay this thug off and clear whatever debt you owe him, then this whole mess will be behind you. Plus it means I don’t have to worry about you getting worked over, injured or worse,” Quintlar squared his jaw giving Miksus a stern look, hoping he was scaring him just a little so he would say out of more trouble.

Gulping he nodded his head. ”Thanks Quint, ye won’t regret it. I swear!”

“Good, now let’s go, I want to get this over with. So, you going to tell me how you got that scar now? You started to last night when we got interrupted,” Quintlar asked indicating the long scar as they headed out the gate into the town.

“Yeah, ok, I’ll tell ye. We have a little bit of a walk anyway, Verrak hangs out down at the wharf by the storehouses. Hmmm…where do I begin?” He asked more to himself than Quintlar as he absently rubbed his head.

“Come on, no stalling, I want to know this before we get there. I want to know exactly what would provoke this guy to do that to you.”

Taking a breath to calm his nerves Miksus started his tale as they strolled through the town.

“Well, then I guess I’ll start at the beginning. It was about a year ago now I guess. I’ve known Verrak since I was a kid and he’s always been a troublemaker, thug, and rogue, what have ye. He and I are from the streets, we never had parents and we learned to fend for ourselves at a very young age. We used to be friends, but he was bossy, demanding and became power hungry after a while. He runs the thieves in this town now.” He paused to look around a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Anyway, he takes what he wants and most the time even Therl, he’s the constable, looks the other way. Well this time I couldn’t look the other way. I caught him with a young serving girl, he was trying to well, umm...he was raping her. I was at the wrong place at the right time I guess,” Miksus sighed remembering the girls’ terror. ”She was screaming and he was ripping at her blouse. I don’t think he saw me at first. I remember he was yelling for her to shut up and he kept hitting her. The girl just slumped in his grasp, he must have knocked her out, but that didn’t matter to him. Verrak had already hiked her skirts and was close finding the end to his pleasure when I finally willed myself to move.” Miksus shuddered at the memory and was clenching his fists, his knuckles white in contrast to his tanned skin. “I charged him, knocking him off the girl and he drew a knife from his boot. I don’t remember much after that except shouts, the sight of Therl hauling Verrak away at sword point, and then I woke up in one of the healers tents.” Tracing his scar he let out a long breath.

“So he went to jail and you saved the girl?”

“I guess so, but from then on Verrak’s had it out for me. He blames me for going to jail.” He admitted to Quintlar. ”The girl was only fourteen, and she’s never really recovered. The healers tell me she was beaten pretty badly. The physical stuff they can heal, but they can’t fix the mental scars.” Sadness and regret was dripping from his every word.

“I’m sure you did your best,” he tried to assure his friend. It was plain to Quintlar that Miksus hadn’t forgiven himself for something that had been out of his control.

“I should have moved earlier, but I stood there. I was afraid,” Miksus berated himself.

“You saved her. You knew what kind of man he was, and if you hadn’t come along he probably would have killed her. You made a difference Mik!“ Quintlar emphasized his statement by grabbing his friend’s shoulders and forcing him to look into his eyes. “Lord above man, you saved her life!”

“I know, I know! I saved her…so what,” Miksus took a long, shaking breath, wishing he could somehow escape Quintlar’s gaze. ”I should have done something earlier. I should have been there before it happened, prevented it somehow.”

Quintlar could see his friend’s inner turmoil, but didn’t have a clue of how to help him. Maybe if he kept reminding Miksus there was nothing else he could have done, then possibly, in time, he would forgive himself. He let go of his friend and continued walking, both thoughtful in their silence.

“Hey Mik, you hungry? I know I am, what do you say we stop at the bakery?” Quintlar asked in an attempt to get their minds on something else.

Miksus looked at Quintlar and caught his friend’s broad grin. “Yeah, ok, I wouldn’t mind something to eat. Yer buying right?”

Quintlar couldn’t help but laugh at that point. “Buying? Sure Mik, breakfast’s on me…this time,” he teased.

------------------------------------------------


Raven had eaten her breakfast and started her search for work by mid morning. Checking in with the healer’s first she quickly found that there was no work to be had there. She was able to talk with a few of the Empaths she knew and even though they wanted to hire her because Kanatry had trained her, there just wasn’t an open position. The herbalist shop told her the same thing but suggested she try the furrier, but they weren’t positive if he had a need for any more help. So she stopped at the furrier’s shop next and was told they had all the skinners they needed for now. He asked her to come back the following spring and he guaranteed they would have something open for her.

“How am I supposed to get work then there is nothing is available?” she asked herself aloud as she walked. “In a town this big there has to be something!” she answered as a few folks looked at her strangely for talking to herself.

Realizing it probably looked a bit strange she smiled quickly at them and walked on. It was mid-day when she reached town circle. The circle was filled with people this time of day but she found a tree to sit under while she watched the water trickle over the statue in the middle of the fountain. It was a very large translucent white marble statue of a woman dressed in robes reaching towards the sky holding a star, made of black onyx, in one hand. The water was coming out the top of the star and trickling down the woman into a collection pool at her feet. She thought it might be a depiction of the Lady reaching for the heavens.

She watched several children squeal and giggle madly as they splashed around in the pool. Their laughter helping to even out her mood, and she was laughing with them in no time. Feeling better Raven stood up to stretch and was caught off guard by that strange feeling again. It was as if someone was watching her, but as she looked around no one was actually looking at her. The feeling wasn’t the same as it had been on the road the day before. This time she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickle and it was more intense, like impending doom. As the feeling slowly cleared she tried to regain her composure. It was then she realized she wasn’t the only one to experience this strange occurrence. Other elves in the circle were blinking and rubbing their necks as they glanced around the area, stranger still, it was only elves. What could this mean, she wondered.

“Excuse me for interrupting, but did you feel that?” asked a female elf that was sitting near her.

“Y-Yes I did, you did, too?” Raven replied, still trying to shake the feeling of dread that had gripped her so briefly.

The elven woman nodded. “It’s very strange, I started feeling it a few months ago. Seems no one knows why. By the way, I’m Arelam,” she said extending her hand in greeting, her sapphire blue eyes shining. “I guess you could call me one of the local lore singers.” She added indicating the ash wood lute slung over her shoulder.

“Well met, Arelam, my name’s Raven,” she replied gripping the woman’s hand and shaking it firmly.

“Raven, have you felt that sensation before?”

“Like you, I’ve been feeling it more frequently. Does anyone know what is causing it?” Raven asked.

“I have a few ideas of what might be the cause, but I can’t be sure. I’ll have to look in to it further.”

Raven nodded. She would have to some looking into it for herself. Only elves?

Raven liked Arelam instantly. There was something comforting about her that drew Raven in, like meeting an old friend from long days past. Arelam was older than Raven by quite a bit, and Raven guessed maybe Arelam to be in her early fifties. The other thing she had to take into consideration was that once elves reached adulthood they aged very slowly. There actually was no way for Raven to guess her actual age. The sun had given her skin a deep rich golden glow and her silver hair was cut very short, making her ears seem all that more pointed. She was wearing white robes with intricately stitched, silver leaf patterns down the front, around the neck and down the sleeves. When the woman moved, a beautiful opal necklace around her neck twinkled in the sunlight. The white boots on her feet completed her outfit nicely. Raven thought she looked almost ethereal.

“Do you know of any work that might be available? It’s been one place after another telling me there is no work,” Raven asked hopefully.

“Let me think, can’t say I know of anything really,” Arelam said pausing while she thought more about it. “Try the storehouses down at the wharf, there’s always need of a set of hands there if you don’t mind hard work. Ask for a man named Verrak. He’s a bit on the shady side, but I’ve heard he pays well.”

“Thank you so much. Don’t worry, I can handle myself and I’m not afraid of hard work,” Raven answered confidently, thankful for her help.

“I think you probably could handle yourself, but be careful anyway. If you need anything, come see me. I live in the east most cottage at the end of Rundle Lane, it’s just south of the warrior’s guild,” Arelam smiled reassuringly as she gave Raven the directions.

“Promise, I’ll come see you if I need anything. Thanks again, Arelam,“ Raven told her, happily waving as she walked way toward the wharf.

It took her a few times of asking directions to find the storehouses, but she was determined to find work. She didn’t care if it was stacking boxes, it would be coin in her pocket, and it was a start. She stopped at the first storehouse took a deep breath and knocked solidly on the door.

“Yeah? What do you want?” she heard as a small window slid open, a pair of pitch-black eyes staring out at her.

“I want a job, Arelam told me to come here, said there might be work,” Raven said a bit too fast, but she was pleasantly surprised at her steady voice. “Do you have anything available?”

“Work, huh? Arelam sent you?” the pair of eyes disappeared as the little window slid shut and the door opened. “Go wait over there,” the man said pointing at a wooden stool. “And don’t touch nothing. The boss’ll talk to you soon, he’s in a meeting.”

Raven walked over and sat on the stool, waiting to see the boss just as the man had told her. She could hear voices behind the other closed door; opposite the one she had entered. But she couldn’t make out any actual words. Whatever was going on in there, they weren’t happy or quiet.

Around her were rows and rows of crates and barrels of all sizes. And they were stacked up to the rafters. She could only see the two doors and concluded the other door must lead to an office. Two large skylights in the roof provided the only light in the dank, dusty room. Some of the crates she could see were half filled with wood shavings, and others she couldn’t tell if they were empty or full. The smell of mold, rotting wood and salt water filled her nostrils making her scrunch her nose up like an inch worm. There was an underlying smell of lamp oil and everything was covered in a layer of grime. A large rat scurried along the baseboards of one of the rotting walls, disappearing outside through a small hole. She really didn’t care for rats, but she decided if she was going to take a job here she’d better get used to them.




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