The Bizarre Adventures of a Half-Elf

1. Aushire

One Day Earlier

"Fifteen miles to Aushire." 

It was larger than she had expected, even for a port town. The female Half-Elf could see the layout of the city even from how far away she was on the well-traveled dirt road. She good-naturedly patted the wooden sign with a gloved hand as she continued to make her way toward the coast on foot, and noticed that the towering pines around her steadily became sparser as her journey carried on. 

Soon enough, the groves of pine trees turned into fields and open stretches of land used for herding and farming. A chill breeze picked up, much colder than it should have been at this time of year, but the eastern parts of the Empire of Markotia were known for having longer winters.

The towns that she had passed on the way to her destination also claimed that rougher, northern exterior, as opposed to the plushier southern regions. Admittedly, though, the rogue would not have minded a soft robe and a warm beverage to heat her as the sun began its descent towards the horizon. Wrapping her rough-spun, black traveling cloak tighter around her, she picked up the pace.

A couple hours later, the woman reached the city gates, which were made out of thick timber much like the rest of the wall that surrounded the perimeter- although one could easily climb them given enough time and effort. Two bored-looking guards clad in red-stained, iron armor leaned against either side of the open gate, and one of them stopped her with a raise of his hand. "Name and reason for visiting?" He asked flatly.

"Charlotte Lithelon. I was hired by Lord Cornello," she replied casually, looking past them to get a better look at Aushire. She had never been here before, but she had heard many rumors: Some spoke of it as being the "Crown Jewel" of eastern Markotia, and others... well, others said that it was a bit of a shit-hole. 

The same guard heaved a sigh. "More mercenaries. Perfect. Damn these House Wars."

"I take it that means I can enter the city. Which way to the Cornello Manor, then?"

The other guard lazily pointed with the spear he was leaning on. "Take the main road through the center of town. When it splits, follow it up towards the hillside and you should find yourself on a cobbled road past the noble manors. The sigil for Cornello is a pickaxe hitting a gold ore on a dark green background."

Charlotte nodded. "Thank you." Then she was off again, following the instructions given. Since it was the end of the day, most of the shops had either closed up or were in the process of doing so. It appeared that the taverns were filling up for evening revelries, leaving the streets relatively empty.

The buildings themselves weren't remarkable. None were more than two, possibly three storeys, and all seemed to have been built for practicality rather than luxury; but the living conditions were more than decent.

Along the way, she noticed that several paths branched off towards the beach and the docks, and that a great deal of noise also came from that direction. She figured that most of the sailors and dock workers spent their evenings there, as well as perhaps some smugglers, dealers, and less than savory businesses. At least, that's where she would assume, since not a lot of decent folk would want to be around a bunch of rowdy sailors at night.

When the path eventually did split, the Half-Elf began trudging uphill, and eventually felt and heard the crunching of the dirt path turn to cobblestone under her boots. As she gained altitude, she turned around to catch a better layout of the town while she still had light, and found the view quite astonishing.

The harbor seemed to be set afire with orange light, glimmering with the gentle current of the waves. The ships that had pulled into port for the night rested with their sails furled, looking not unlike bats tucked away in their perches. The beach had golden and cream sands interwoven along the shoreline that stretched for miles -far beyond the perimeter of Aushire- and curled around the bay past a curve of landscape.

The other end of town that Charlotte had failed to walk through matched the layout, save for a decent-sized fighting ring and the familiar pristine white chapel used by clerics.

Past that, the other path out of town led into a large combat field before ending in a thicker-forested area. Satisfied that she had admitted at least a little of the land to memory, she turned back and continued towards the manor. 

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