A Terra Tale: A Trip to the Mohrg

Chapter Four: ...Can Be a Pain in the Ass!

"Sometimes I need what only you can provide: your absence."

-Ashleigh Brilliant

Miro had scowled the entire way up to their lodgings. Fen and their new wizard, Faelyn Silverdale, chatted amicably behind him as he stomped up the steps.

"Bornum is far from the shade of Blackheart, Faelyn." Fen said, stooping to use the dwarven steps, lest he crash his head into the supports above. "What brings you so far from your homeland?"

"A private matter, one I could use assistance with after we settle whatever inanity you all have found yourselves looped into." Faelyn replied coolly. "I imagine since I'm the only elf amongst you, I'm likely the only one versed in certain scholarly pursuits."

"Such as, what, magic?" Heidigger asked from behind, lumbering up slowly. Alma and Clicky had remained below, watching as Fizz competed in drinking games with a band of orcs that had stopped in for trade.

"Among other skills, I'm foremost a trained warmage. I graduated from Ravenscar some twelve years ago." He answered, not bothering to look back. "I'm an Evoker, one who commands the surrounding energies to do my bidding in ways that are rather... destructive."

"Like throwing a fireball?" Heidigger asked. "Uncle o' mine could chuck some of them about, used to clear out old mine shafts for the Branmun Mining Company. Made a killin' he did."

"Really?" Faelyn drawled, looking slightly askance to acknowledge the dwarf. "Perhaps something I can look into next I visit Goldtooth."

"Great town, that 'un!" Heidigger laughed. "Stick with us, I'll take ya to some quality dives, knife ears!"

Faelyn hummed in response, earning a surprised look back from Miro as he stopped at their door. "This is us," he said, choosing not to comment on the elf's odd behavior. "We nab this block of rooms every time we come in."

Still underground, the door he opened led to a comfortable sitting room, a lone and low table ringed by six overstuffed leather chairs before an unlit fireplace. Four doors led to the east and west, two per wall, and a weapon rack next to the door groaned as Miro and Heidigger affixed their weapons. Faelyn walked in, running a long pale finger along the table before bringing it to eye level.

He hummed once more, waving a hand. The chairs slid back from the table, one of which he eased himself into. "Room service a possibility, or is this inn as backwater as it appears?"

"Charming, and no. No room service." Miro said, shaking his head. "You read Sylvan?"

Faelyn regarded him with a raised eyebrow. "Diplomacy not a natural skill for you, is it?" He smirked when Miro growled at that, continuing before the paladin could interrupt. "Yes, I speak the Fae tongue. Harsh on the throat, I much prefer its written language. Why?"

"Funny you should mention that!" Fen laughed, walking through one door, speaking louder so they could hear him. "We were doing some work for the church, and found an old... journal, I guess? No clue, none of us speak the language ourselves, but our rogue said it looked Sylvan."

"That brings a smile to my face, the thought of an intelligent ally." Faelyn said, smiling at Miro. "Seems there is a short supply here..."

"The fuck did you—" Miro began, only to yelp when Heidigger elbowed him in the ribs.

The dwarf glared up at the taller Musk. "Calm yerself then 'fore ya get us thrown out." He then glanced at the still-smirking elf. "And you. Thought yer kind prided themselves on manners? Where they be at?"

Faelyn smirk faded as Heidigger spoke, falling to a slight frown by the end of the statement. He closed his eyes and gave a long exhale through his nose. "You're right." He turned his attention back to the fuming Miro. "I do apologize. I've been wandering alone for a time, and my patience with... others is limited, at the best of times."