LI’REIGHIAN ODYSSEY
The temperature was starting to turn cold, marking the end of the day and the beginning of night, as the small group riding their mounts crested another hill while journeying through the Dalagroth Forest. All day it had felt like snow, though the sky was a clear blue. Now as the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, the sky was a pale gray. The four riders that directed their horses through the Dalagroth, looked like soldiers, if not rogues; they wore shadow armor and carried a variety of bladed weapons; swords conservative and double-bladed; daggers both throwing and punching; one of the women carried a dire flail, while the other wore a gauntlet that climbed the length of her arm; each carried rapid-fire hand-crossbows.
As it were both women were not women at all--at least not in the conventional sense; instead they were demons, Danarii, Succubae. One with hair like raven’s wings, the other with flowing tresses of deep crimson—they were each able to change their appearance at will, so they could look like any woman that they desired, or man for that matter. Currently both were beautiful and exotic to behold. Only their wings would give their nature away, but for now their wings were folded and hidden out of sight.
As it were both women were not women at all--at least not in the conventional sense; instead they were demons, Danarii, Succubae. One with hair like raven’s wings, the other with flowing tresses of deep crimson—they were each able to change their appearance at will, so they could look like any woman that they desired, or man for that matter. Currently both were beautiful and exotic to behold. Only their wings would give their nature away, but for now their wings were folded and hidden out of sight.
Both men were Li’reigh, and were brutally handsome as commonly befitting their race. Both were tall and dark, the older of the two showing silver in his hair and goatee. The elder carried among other things, a ke’teris for musical performances at the public’s request. Xaneth had played before royalty, so there was no arguing that he wasn’t a slouch when it came to performing a concert. He could create illusions of iridescence and dazzling light that made his concerts one-of-a-kind. Depending on how much people were willing to pay, depended on what kind of performance he would give. Not everyone was entitled to his concerts of charms and lightning extravaganzas.
For reticent purposes, the Li’reigh learned to control their moods, so that the color of their eyes would not give away their intentions; this was most affective when playing card-games, and charming women. Of the two Li’reigh, Xaneth was the eldest, having turned forty-six two months prior; this was considerably young for a Li’reigh expected to live at least two hundred years. Xanphre was younger still, having just recently turned thirty-three. Both lived in the Freeland Woods, three hundred miles south from where the two cousins were now, on their way to a hamlet called Ironian; the Danarii expected a blizzard this evening, and it was best to get under cover for the night.
The rutted road was lined with closely-grown hedges of brambles and shrubs. It cut through several copse of trees, and crossed several rivulets. To either side forest and meadow gave way to field and orchard. A small herd of cows grazed nearby. A distant hill was peppered with the wand stone chimneys with thin plumes of blue smoke rising from them. A road angled west into the hill country, soon buildings and barns lined the road to either side. While to the south there rose a small mountain, with a moderate fortress built into the rock itself.
Four dogs barked at the approach of the two men and Danarii, while a pleasant enough looking goodwife looked from her door, smiling from a plaster house with a barn in back. Xanphre called to the goodwife. “Excuse me, milady, would you happen to know the way to Ironian?”
“You’re standing in it.” The woman said.
“So this is Ironian, then?”
“That is what I said.” The goodwife affirmed. “And over there is Fort Volaris, if you are looking to join the militia.”
Xanphre looked and spied the mountain to the south, and the fort that seemed to spring from it.
“Maybe later.” Xanphre said. “Right now we are looking for an inn or tavern, where we can rest and put up our horses.”
“Just follow the road for about a mile, a three-story building will be found on your left. That would be the Mermaid’s Cove.”
“Thank you kindly, milady.”
The four moved on. The dogs ran with for awhile, and then two boys called them back.
The light of the day waned, the group passed by another farm. The stock in the yard looked decent enough, and the home looked recently constructed.
After a time the group came across the large three-story structure. A widow’s walk wrapped itself around the third floor of the building, looking over the heights of the hamlet, and the waves of the Tiverian Sea. There were horses tethered out front.”
“This must be the place.” Xaneth declared.
The four stepped through the door of the inn, and while Xaneth and the women found a place to sit, Xanphre walked up to the bartender. “Do you have a place where we can put up our horses?” He asked.
“It just so happens that I do.” The bartender said. He was a strong-looking man, and unknown to the Li’reigh was a sergeant of the militia. The bartender rang a bell, and a young man soon showed up to greet Xanphre. “This gentleman has some horses that he would like to put up for—how long did you say, sir?”
“I didn’t.” Xanphre said, not unkindly. “But likely a week. Let’s just play it one day at a time for now.”
“As you wish.”
Xanphre paid the man one gold ta’lant, and three silvers. Then he led the boy outside to the horses. Once the boy knew what horses belonged to Xanphre’s group, he took control of the situation.
After Xanphre gave the boy a tip of five coppers, and allowed him to lead the horses away, he reentered the inn and found his cousin and the women seated at a far table. Xanphre observed that there were a handful of patrons currently eating and drinking; the smell of seafood and ale filled the room. He made his way over to the table and sat down next to Sindara.
“We haven’t ordered dinner yet,” Xaneth said, tipping a mug of beer. “We were waiting for you.”
“Well, I’m here now. So let’s order.” Xanphre signaled to a serving wench to come over to their table. She was barely of the age of a woman, she wasn’t frail; she was just…young. Xanphre assumed that the girl was probably a relative of the owner—either a daughter or niece.
After the girl had taken the group’s order, Xaneth turned to Sindara and Xandarine. “Read the room.” He instructed.
Already ahead of you.” Sindara professed.
