The Bizarre Adventures of a Half-Elf

2. House Cornello

Charlotte chuckled to herself, before letting the door close behind her and then dropping her travel pack onto the bed with a heavy thump. Then she set to work undoing the buckles that fastened her weapon sheathes to her shoulders, and likewise unfastened the straps that held together the leather armor along her arms and legs.

Once she was sufficiently unburdened of her equipment, the knock at the door came for the hot water. Charlotte asked that the washbasin be filled with it, and the Human woman did so before quickly leaving without a word.

The Half-Elf took the time to study her reflection through the steam that fogged up the vanity. A pair of emerald eyes stared back at her, contrasted against her suntanned skin. As she reached up to let her wavy, dark blonde hair out from its tie, her hands brushed against pointed ears identical to Christa's before letting her hair fall down to her shoulder blades.

She then removed her fingerless, leather gloves that she had begun to get used to wearing, and slowly peeled them back. She grimaced slightly as they revealed the heavy scar tissue that now made up most of the flesh on the backs of her hands, and she traced them lightly with her fingertips. Some were still somewhat new and the rest had almost finished healing, but she knew that she would always have them now.

The thought made her instinctively reach for the orange stone attached to the leather cord that always hung around her neck, and she felt its presence slowly calm her heartbeat. After taking a few moments to collect her thoughts, she dipped a clean rag into the warm water, and slowly began wiping the dirt and grime from her face. Then she removed her long-sleeved, black traveling tunic to wash away the smell and sweat from her lean and somewhat muscled figure, letting the rag pass over the small scars that had accumulated with time.

Once she was finished washing the evidence of travel from her skin, she changed into a fresh cotton, short-sleeved tunic and lay back on the bed, letting her eyelids fall shut. Not long after, she felt her ears involuntarily twitch as they picked up the commotion of what she could only assume were the other "champions" who were hired to fight for Cornello.

This probably meant that dinner was ready, so she put her hair up once more, donned her gloves, and strapped her dagger and throwing knives to her belt, before following the commotion.

The dining hall itself was not as decorated as Charlotte might have guessed, but the food was of a fair extravagance: Roasted quail simmered in gravy and herbs, grilled fish sprinkled with lemon and garlic, a medley of potatoes and carrots, fresh bread, and plenty of flowing drink. It was a meal of such a status that she had not had in a while. But the same could be said in regard to the other champions, as the lot of them pushed aside table manners for the sake of filling their bellies with whatever they could. The servers buzzed all around the dining table, frantically trying to keep mugs and glasses full and platters restocked.

Charlotte found herself seated between a quiet, pale Human with raven hair that hung down to nearly cover his eyes, and a larger Human who began jovially boasting and singing not long after the meal had been served.

She was silently contemplating what had brought the two here as she tore into a piece of gravy-soaked bread, when the larger man turned to look at her. "'Aven't seen yer face these last coupl'a days, lass. What brings ya 'ere so late?"

"Travel. Came from further inland," Charlotte replied, continuing to chew the bread. "How many battles we have left?"

"D'pends. It's two out o'three, and Faistraad's won two battles. Tomorrow could make er break us."

"I see. Not as many here as I expected. Did a lot get killed off?"

The man shook his head as he chugged his ale down. "Them lords got clerics teh line the fields and resurrect us. Nobody's s'posed to permanently die."

"Supposedly."

He gave a roaring laugh. "Aye, lass. S'posedly. But Faistraad's got us outnumbered. Name's Kano, by the way."

She nodded her head. "Charlotte. A pleasure."

"Me and mine'll be watchin' out fer ya, miss Charlotte," Kano patted a double-headed war axe that was strapped to the back of his chair. "Ya look like the sneaky sort. 'Haps you'll help us win this one."

As Charlotte was about to reply, the noises of the hall simmered down to a quiet murmur and then to silence as Lord Cornello entered and took his place at the head of the table. He was a wizened old man, but unmistakably proud as he stood with immaculate posture, his medals clanging together from where they were fastened close together upon his doublet.

Charlotte squinted at them, but even when she couldn't make out what they were for, she refused to rise. A few of the others did stand, but not many, which brought a wry smirk to her lips. This did not seem to faze the Lord, however, as he nodded to each side of the table.

"Good evening, esteemed champions of House Cornello. It would seem that this may be the last night we share together in this War, although I would not wish it so. I would like to thank all of you personally for shedding blood in my family's name to settle the feud against House Faistraad... And I would also like to up the ante a bit."

The ones around the table who weren't initially listening now directed their full attention to the old lord. "Should the side of Cornello win this next battle," he continued, "Everyone will be paid an extra sum of gold for keeping the House War going. There will be an even grander sum if we win the next two in order to tie the battles, and then, of course, the sum promised if we win.

"Another hefty bonus will be paid to the champions still standing once the battles are over. If Cornello does not win, you will all still be paid for your troubles, but considerably less." Lord Cornello let his words sink in. "Anyone deciding to stay and align him or herself with the House Cornello after all of this, win or lose, will be welcome to, and will be able to live at the manor and be paid a decent salary."

He nodded, seemingly content in what he had said. "Now, these old bones need their sleep. I bid you goodnight, and shall see you on the morrow for battle." With that, he left them to their meal.

Charlotte listened to the Lord while laid back in her chair, lazily sucking the marrow out of quail bones as she scanned the room for Christa. She caught sight of her younger sister attending to one of the Cornello ladies, an older woman with laugh lines on her face and straight, jet-black hair under a small silver ringlet. She wore a gown of deep purple, and Charlotte guessed that she was probably the Lady of the House. The woman smiled kindly at her sister, and Christa seemed content, politely laughing at something one of the other ladies-in-waiting had said.

Not wanting to linger, Charlotte pilfered what bread she could, downed her goblet, and made her way back to her room.

**AN: Where do you think Charlotte got the scars on her hands from? What kind of vibe do you get from her in general? Comment below and make sure to vote!