The Chosen Child

[Niamh]

PROLOGUE
The world of Saor was a world where peaceful times were rarely seen. War played a particular part in the political economics of most of the land. Kings fought against each other over issues of land ownership. Tax increased throughout most of the lands to pay for the expenses of war. Because of this poverty increased. People found it hard throughout most of Saor to pay their taxes; famine swept through The Whelk, a broad expanses of land on the eastern side of the Laphos Ocean, a land ruled by the Boldrewood family. Crops withered away or did not grow at all. People starved to death or died on the streets of the Metropolis from diseases like plague.
Across the sea in the land of southwest Saor famine was rare. Taxes where higher. People were being evicted from their homes because they simply could not afford the pay the greedy King Taliesin their tithes. Those who were unfortunate to be evicted had to watch their homes be torched; all their belongings, bar the clothes they had on their backs, where still inside. Revolts broke out all over the country. Many of the rebels who were unfortunate to be caught were seen skewered on long pikes, along the main road to the city of Cretu and home of King Taliesin. They bore a warning to those that fought against the King, a message that if caught they too would be displayed like their comrades. If their crime was seen as severe they were publicly executed by manner of hang, draw and quarter, the pieces of flesh pulled from the bone and then feed to the Kings pet Eagles; The bones then thrown to the dogs. King Taliesin was the most hated man in all the countries that made the world of Saor.
To the north of King Taliesin’s kingdom was the land of the Sorcery. Hundreds of years previously, this part of Saor was the birthplace of the gods, an age still young within Saor. Aisha the high goddess, mother of Saor and creator of a life thousands of years in existence, chose North West Saor as the centre of magic when she chose her children to be born in to the world of man within the Reishe Valley. Because of this people of magic from all over the lands flocked to the country. A union of their magic create a barrier against attack from the King in the south. Fairies, pixies, Elves, Dwarfs, Man, witches, sorcerers and Goblins all lived in harmony with each other, trading what ever there was to be traded, Spells and potions, Produce and fabric. It was a land of prosperity, following in the teachings and laws the children of Aisha placed about the land. Unfortunate for them, this was the only country that abided by the laws.
All the lands of Man believed in Aisha and her children and therefore were known as the Aishans. However, to the north of The Whelk, in the land of Mabhcill, lived the Elves. The Elvin people had there own beliefs, rituals and laws. They were not ruled by gods and Kings, but by the council. Like the Aishans, who believed that their chosen had walked amongst them, the elves believed in the coming of a chosen one who would be either saviour or destroyer. Over a thousand years this immortal council kept a record of every male born into a family hoping to find the one with the mark, the successor. Nevertheless, no such mark had as of yet been found. Because of this the council began to loose fate that the successor would ever be born.
As the council grew weary, so did the elves themselves. Feeling as if they had been lied to, they started to lose fate in the council. Many rebellions against the council had occurred. The immortal elves were at war with each other, healers against tradesmen, tradesmen against druids, druids against the council and the council against themselves. Many elves became known as converters to the council, as they began to slip in to the grasp of the Aishans and their beliefs. In lower Langairea, the home of the mortal elves, life went on as if nothing was going on.
All the council needed was more time, and time and faith were as yet to play a little trick on them in the form of a girl. The true Chosen Child.






CHAPTER 1
AMONGST STARS


Morning had not yet broken when Lorga, a reader of the stars for the council began to slowly doze, as he leaned back against the hard volcanic outcrop that was his post, his long raven locks falling in front of his eyes. It was drawing to the end of his shift, so far just as uneventful as the night before and the night before that. The sun was slowly starting to creep over the horizon, but the stars where still visible in the twilight. He couldn’t wait for the sun to rise so he could head down the slope to the western archway and enter the metropolis of upper Langairea. Maybe pop in to The Drinking horn for a quick horn of mead before heading to his lonely home.
Looking around the large outcrop of rock to the east, Lorga could see down into the volcanoes large caldera. It appeared like a large sea of trees and shrubs, surrounding a large caldera lake. To a stranger, the place would look like an exotic rain forest that belonged in the southern continent. However, Lorga new better. Amongst all the trees, hidden from sight was an entire city of small circular stone and thatch houses with small gardens to the rear, was used for planting vegetables and fruit trees, a small decking area to the front of the house where they sat on warm summer days drinking mead and discussing the good old days.
With a yawn, Lorga decided that it was time to give up and go home. As he went to pick up his cloak, he saw a small flash in the sky from the corner of his eye and decided to look up. He gasped and almost fell over. There amongst the stars was the symbol of the tri-spiral shinning intense silver in the twilight. His eyes glanced over the stars, reading the hidden information they contained, and smiled excitedly. He immediately jumped to his feet. Scurrying, he tried to gather all his belongings, but his excitement was taking the better of him. He was awed by what he had read. Slinging his bag on his back, he rushed down the hillside, tripping over rocks, slipping in the dewy grass, ripping his new wine coloured cloak in a thorn bush as he ran passed it. Nevertheless, he did not care. All he cared about at that moment was telling the council that they were wrong all along. There was a chosen one, they had been right about that and it had arrived. It had been born that night. But it was a girl, not a boy. That is where they had gone wrong.
For almost a thousand years, the council had searched for the chosen one. For hundreds of years they had checked every male elf born for the tri spiral birthmark but never found it. It was only in the last five or six hundred years they employed a star reader to watch the skies for a sign of the chosen ones birth. It was only now, a thousand years after the original prophesy, that she had been born: the child born to the world to be either the saviour or the destroyer of the Elvin race.
He rushed through the arch, hand cut into the side of the mountain by the first immortal elves as a gateway to the city. The sun began to rise, silhouetting the great metropolis of upper Langairea as Lorga approached. Upper Langairea was situated in the caldera of a large extinct volcano, where the council headquarters where situated in the very middle, on a plateau of rock which was three thirds surrounded by the calderas lake, towering over the small homes of the inhabitants scattered about like seeds
As he approached the first few houses of the Metropolis, Lorga could see an old familiar shape of a sheepherder leading her sheep through the tree lined streets, the sheep looking as though they were hypnotised.
Lorga waved as he raced past her. “Good morning Lorga!” She called after him.
Lorga turned around, still running in the direction he had been running and shouted back, “ And what a fantastic morning it is too!” before falling over a barrel, which lay outside The Drinking Horn inn. Cursing Durlas, the innkeeper, under his breath, Lorga looked up at the enchanting beauty that stood before him and blushed in embarrassment.
The young shepardess smuggled a laugh as she rushed over to help him up off the ground. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?” She asked cheerfully as she offered him her hand and helped him up off the ground.
“You would not believe what I’ve seen Liatha!” He cheered as he brushed the dirt off his clothes. “I must inform the council at once! I have seen it in the stars.”
She looked at him awkwardly. She bore an expression on her face that informed him that she didn’t understand what he was ranting on about. “What have you seen?” she shouted after him as he began to run again. “What is it that has you so excited?” She cried out in frustration.
Lorga stopped, turned around and looked at her, and then ran back down to her. “What I tell you, you must not tell to anyone, not a soul. Not even to your sheep because there are some who can talk to animals. No elf other than those of the council is to know of this.”
Liatha nodded grinning. “No elf shall hear of it from me.”
“Okay.” He began to hesitate a little as if to doubt her. “I…I can’t tell you. But you will know soon enough. I promise you that.” With that, he forgot his recent embarrassment, cupped her face in his hands and gave her a quick kiss before he ran off in the direction of the council headquarters again.
Liatha stood there in complete shock for a few seconds, her fingers drawn to her lips, then taking command back of her senses; she shook her head in shame. “Melves! There all the same!” she breathed and turned back to her sheep.
Melf was a term used in Mabhcill for male elves, just as Felf is a term for female elves. Liatha beckoned to them and they followed in their trance like state. Lorgas words ‘I have seen it in the stars’ went around in her head. What does it mean? She frowned, creasing her forehead. Then a thought struck her, as if she had just walked unawares in to a tree. Could it be? She nodded to herself. Yes. The time had come. She looked back in the direction Lorga had run, a smile slowly spreading on her face. All she could see was a little black dot disappearing at the end of the street. She shook her head again and headed in the direction of the arch. It was time.

* * *

Soon the sun had risen over the top of the volcano, shimmering on the lake like liquid gold. Lorga at this point had reached the procession to the council building. He ran along to the stairs, which when he reached them, started to that them two at a time. Entering the building, he rushed down a long winding corridor and then ran up a wide elegant staircase. When he reached the top, he came to an extremely large set of oak doors. Carved on the doors was the image of the volcano. Along side to volcano was the image of two elves, which represented the separate lives of the mortal and immortal elves. One of the elves was situated within the volcano; one hand stretched out touching the top on the crater. The other elf stood out side. It also had a hand out stretched towards the top of the volcano.
Putting all his weight on the doors, he forced them open and then entered the council room. At the far end of the room there was a large bell that he ran to. Taking hold of the rope he pulled down hard letting the sound of the bell surround the silence that had been there when he arrived. He rang and he rang, and each toll echoed the last, yet he would not stop until the first of the council members entered.
The first to enter was the third in command of the council, an elf that went by the name Lai. Lai was the elf that originally made the prediction about the chosen one a thousand years ago, and it was because of his miss readings that they believed it to be male. He approached Lorga with a scowl on his face.
“I hope you have a good reason for all this tomfoolery or else I’ll have your immortality for this.” Lai spat as he took his seat at the table. Lorga ignored the threat knowing that the only way his immortality could be taken from him was if he was killed. He knew that Lai could not do this as murder and execution where outlawed by the council.
Lorga smiled. “Oh I do, don’t you worry. Or maybe you should.”
“Maybe you should hold you tongue or you won’t have one left.” Lai threatened.
Lorga turned to face the door just as Iocht and Dealgan entered. Iocht was one of the first immortal elves, and alongside a few others was one of the first to go above ground, leaving lower Langairea behind. He built the first house on the surface, becoming the founder of Upper Langairea. It was then some four thousand years ago that he discovered that only immortal elves could go to the lands outside of the volcano. Those who bore a mortal life remained inside the volcano that created them and gave them life.
Dealgan on the other hand was the founder of the council of Upper Langairea just after it became a substantial town. It was not until about two thousand five hundred and eighty two years ago that the council of upper Langairea merged with Lower Langairea, And Dealgan had taken role as leader of the council.
“Good morning Lorga.” Iocht smiled. Lorga greeted him back “I hope it is good news that you bring.” He took his seat and stretched out casually, hands resting behind his head.
Dealgan just grunted and sat at the head of the table. When the rest of the council arrived quite grumpily, Dealgan turned to Lorga and muttered sleepily, but abruptly with a wave of his hand, “Get on with it.”
“Your extreme council, the successor, the chosen one has been born this night. I saw the symbol of the tri spiral and read the stars that made it. She has arrived!”
Commotion broke out at the table. Iocht clapped his hands together in amazement. “I knew this day would come!” he cheered happily.
“Quiet!” Dealgan yelled. The rest of the council went quiet and looked at Dealgan. They could tell by the expression on his face that something was bothering him. “What do you mean by she?”
Lorga swallowed hard. “Exactly what I meant. The chosen one is a she! A girl!” a little voice in Lorgas head was telling him that they weren’t going to believe him.
“Impossible!” roared Lai. “I was the one who prophesised the coming a thousand years ago, and it said it was a male” he slammed his fisted down hard on the table, and rose up off his chair. Waving a finger at Lorga he growled. “Are you telling me I’m wrong?”
Lorga stared at them all in amazement. They have been waiting for this moment for a thousand years and yet when the time comes they won’t believe it because of one thing; that the chosen turned out to be a girl and not a boy. “I’m telling you what I read!” he cried in anguish.
“You must have miss read it. You are probably delirious from sleep.” Dealgan started brushing aside the possibility, while he wiped the sleep from his eyes.
“You don’t believe me do you?” he looked at them all. Stubborn and pathetic were the two words that came to his head. “I don’t believe this!” He shouted, staring at them, as the rising sun began to creep through the windows lighting up the room. “ I have spent over two hundred years staring at that sky, each night, hoping to read of the coming. Up until now all I could do for you was predict the weather and a few rebellions! And now… now that that time has finally arrived, you refuse to believe me! And it’s all over one simple difference!”
“ Lorga…” Iocht began.
Lorga turned to him. “ No Iocht let me finish what I started to say. You lot are so caught up in you own ideals and beliefs that when someone challenges them they are automatically wrong! Well I am telling you now I am not wrong. I know what I read and if you don’t believe me than fine. I’m out of here.” And with that he turned around and went to storm out of the room.
“ Lorga!” Dealgan roared from behind him. He turned around and faced him. “I would like you to leave this room. It is obvious that you are no longer able to read the stars as accurately as you once where. Your services are no longer needed.” Shocked by their own stupidity and their disregard for him and his ability, Lorga left the room, slamming the door in their faces and stormed out of the building.
Muirfean turned to Dealgan. “ A Girl Dealgan? Could it be possible? Could he be right?” Muirfean looked as though he was about to have a panic attack; which was not an unusual occurrence with this young elf.
“ Enough!” he screamed. Calming down he stated, “ He is wrong. That prophecy was written a thousand years ago and it stated a boy, not a girl. He was a good star reader. The best. But even the best can make mistakes.”
Iocht smiled. “ Exactly. You just said it. ‘ Even the best can make mistakes’. Does that not mean I too can make mistakes, maybe even Lai…perhaps?” he asked in an inquisitive tone, a cheeky glisten in his eye.
“ How dare you accuse me of making a mistake. It is that boy he is wrong.” Lai bellowed in defence.
Dealgan sat in his chair in silence. He was thinking about what Iocht had said. He was the oldest of the council and being the oldest he was also considered the wisest. His hands were close to his mouth in a triangular shape, fingers tapping each other. This was a habit of his. And when the council members see him sitting like this it was always a sign that he was thinking.
What if it was possible that the chosen was a girl? Would a different sex make such a difference? Of course it would. A woman was seen as being more symbolic. Didn’t every other humane species on this earth not symbolise the earth as a woman. Did they not themselves symbolise the volcano from which their world evolved as female? Did that volcanoes fire not give birth to the entire Elvin race? Didn’t the earth give birth to men, the air to fairies and pixies, the water to the merpeople. Then it was possible. No it wasn’t just possible it was true.
Clearing his throat Dealgan started to speak slowly. “Muirfean… I want you to go down to lower Langairea. I want you to go to the birth registrar and ask him to check all babies that come in to day for a weighing, including girls.”
“ You can’t be serious Dealgan!” Lai protested.
Dealgan's eyes slowly, but confidently turned to Lai. With a smile on his face he announced “ The time has come.”

[Pensive]

It's quite interesting. The last line of this first chapter has made me curious to continue with the rest of the story. I would like to read chapter two as well. :)

By the way,


King Taliesin was the most hated man in all the countries that made the world of Saor.

Tal wouldn't be very pleased with that! :p

[Niamh]

Its a good thing i started writing the story years ago before litnet days! I think i mentioned to him before that i had a character called Talesin.:) This incase anyone is wondering is NOT the one i was looking for character names for. Still thinking out the story line for that one.

[Pensive]

Its a good thing i started writing the story years ago before litnet days! I think i mentioned to him before that i had a character called Talesin.:) This incase anyone is wondering is NOT the one i was looking for character names for. Still thinking out the story line for that one.

Yup, I know, you mentioned in that thread you had already named some character Taliesin.

Goodluck with that story plus this one! :)

[Niamh]

Thenks Pensive! I'll Post the next chapter next week. A weekly installment.:)

[Niamh]

Just did a minor edit. Wont notice much of a difference if any. one edit means birth of an entire new race.;)

[Niamh]

CHAPTER 2
DECISIONS

Lorga sat at the bar of the local inn The Drinking Horn; the horn full of mead in front of him remained untouched for an hour. He could not believe that the council did not believe him. He was so frustrated. He rested his head on the bar; the coldness of the wood soothed his head. He couldn’t believe that the council fired him. What was he going to do? He couldn’t go back down to lower Langairea and live with his family because they where all dead. The last of his siblings, his sister Moya, died one hundred and fifty years ago. He was all alone. To make matters worse, he had kissed Liatha in the heat of the excitement! Would she realise that he liked her? Would she figure out that he was in love with her? Hopefully not!
In the Elvin world every born child, was brought before a council representative, the birth registrar, who performed a ritual on the child called a weighing. This was a sort of physical that determined whether the child was mortal or immortal. Only a select few, in their eyes, are ever blessed with immortality. Lorga unfortunately was one of them. He hated the fact that he out lived three generations of his family. He saw immortality as a curse rather than a blessing. The only reason why he liked it was because he was afraid of death. He never wanted to have to face it, but then again he never would. Unless somebody murdered him.
Aodha, Lorgas closest friend, swung the door of the inn open, the door itself banged heavily off the wall and swung back almost hitting Aodha.
“You should really get something done about that door Durlas, before it does somebody injury.” Aodha shouted smugly to the barman.
The barman frowned. “ I wouldn’t have to if you young ones didn’t keep swinging out of it.” He replied waving a drinking horn at him.
“ Young one! I’ll have you know I’m two hundred and fifty years old, same as my good friend Lorga here.” He said as he sat down at the bar beside Lorga.
“ Ha!” Durlas laughed. “ You think that’s old do you? Well I’m two thousand nine hundred and seventy eight years old, so your still only young ones to me.” He stated. “ So what can I get you?”
“ A large horn of mead please. Take your time though, can’t have you cause any stress to those old bones of yours.” He chuckled.
Durlas laughed. “ I see you’re in good form. Cant say the same about you friend there.” He stated, pointing his thumb at Lorga, as he handed him his mead and set the horn stand down on the counter. This stand prevented the drinking horns from spilling when they were set down, by keeping the main part of the horn vertical.
Aodha looked at Lorga and sighed. “ I keep telling you to get more sleep.” He started. “ Look at you! You’re falling asleep in here. You haven’t even touched you drink.”
“ Aodha, I’ve been fired.” Lorga mumbled. “ The council fired me. I told them the chosen one is a girl and they didn’t believe me so they fired me.”
Aodha gave a low whistle. “ I hope you slammed the door in their faces!”
Lorga looked at him from where he rested his head. “ It’s not funny Aodha. I read it as clear as day. It was there. The chosen one has been born a girl. She is called Arianna.” He mumbled. “ They told me I was delirious, that I wasn’t capable of doing my job anymore.”
“ Wait a minute…” Durlas began. He looked around him. It was only the three of them in the inn. Turning back to Lorga he whispered, voice trembling, “ did you say the chosen one has been born?”
Aodha’s mouth dropped. “ Did you say it’s a girl?”
Lorga nodded as he sat up straight in his chair. He looked from Aodha to Durlas and saw in their eyes something that was missing from the eyes of the council. Belief. And it stuck him. If the two of them could believe it’s true than why couldn’t the rest of the elves? For starters, they weren’t cooped up in some government building all day long like the council, so they definitely wouldn’t have the same opinion.
“ Do you two believe me?” Lorga asked them looking from one to the other.
Durlas shrugged his shoulders. “ I’d believe anything the council don’t.” He said honestly. “ Why do you think I set up this place? Because they didn’t believe it would work.”
Aodha nodded his in acceptance of the statement. “ I believe you not only because the council don’t, but because you’re my oldest friend and I know you better than everyone else.” Aodha finished his mead and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “ Will you still be here in an hours' time?”
Lorga shrugged his shoulders and took his drinking horn in his hands, lifted it to his mouth and took a sup. “ Yeah most likely. Why? Where are you going?”
“ I have to go collect a dozen ram's horns from Liatha. If I don’t Durlas here wont get the new drinking horns he’s asked me to make.” Lorga groaned. Aodha raised an eyebrow. “ What else happened today Lorga?”
Resting his head back on the counter, Lorga sighed and muttered, “ I was very excited earlier because of the chosen one that when I came across Liatha I kind of kissed her.” Both Aodha and Durlas started to laugh.
“ It really isn’t your day is it? Don’t worry about it. She probably thinks that you kissed her because you were happy. I doubt she thinks its because you secretly harbour feelings for her.” And with that, he slid off his stool, gave his friend a sympathetic pat on the back and went to the door. “I’ll catch you two later.” Then he was gone, not forgetting to slam the door behind him.
“ If he keeps that up he’ll be making me a new door too.” Durlas spat in a slightly irritated tone.

* * *

Lai stormed down the remaining steps to the basement of the council building. It was here that his quarters were situated. He had chosen this part of the building because, as a prophet and a member of the elfin druidic order, he believes that this part of the volcano connected him with the earth’s electricity, where it connected the outer world with the inner world. It was where the magic of the volcano prevented the mortal elves from entering the surface. The passage that ran along side his rooms was used by the lower Langairean council representatives to enter the lower city and bring the new immortals to the surface.
He swung his commons door open and slammed it behind him. He was infuriated. How dare a minor star reader question him? How dare he change His prophecy? He felt defied and humiliated and by a boy! A boy that the whole council believed over him! And what was it that Dealgan had said to him? The rest of Saor represented the earth as a female, one that gave birth to the races. Well then, shouldn’t they too not have their people represented by a female, as they were born of the earth’s fire? If this were true then the successor, or chosen one, would then be female. What made it worse for Lai was that it made sense.
He kicked a chair out of his way and went in to his study. There, in the shadowy right hand corner by a secret doorway, stood a figure hidden beneath a hooded cloak.
Lai Looked at the figure and grunted. “I take it you have heard?” the figure nodded remaining quiet. “I want you to continue keeping an eye on this Lorga for me. If he does anything spontaneous, stop him. But if this thing happens to involve our beloved successor, saviour or destroyer..." he spat hatefully " then follow him. I want her destroyed!” he bellowed, slamming his fist on his study table. “That way they will all be destroyed! That will teach them for humiliating me.” He grinned, giving a little sinister laugh. He sat down at his desk and gave the figure a gesture, signalling it to go. With a swish of its cloak it was gone through the secret door in to the darkness. Lai grinned evilly as he leaned back in his chair. He’ll get his revenge on the elf and the council. He will destroy her, and with that, he will destroy them all.


Dealgan and Iocht, the president and the vice president of the Elvin council, were walking through the streets of upper Langairea when Muirfean, the newest member of the council and probably the silliest elf in existence, came running up to them. The young elf had only been with them for a few years, after being selected at birth to be a new council member. The thoughts of this position had caused a nervous disposition in him at a young age, which still hadn’t managed to shift itself.
“ Dealgan! Iocht!” He called from behind them. Passers by paid no heed. They didn’t see the council as anything other than ordinary people doing their part for the Elvin race. Just like the rest of them.
The two of them stopped and waited for Muirfean to catch up with them. “ Well Muirfean have you found her?” Dealgan asked.
Muirfean shook his head. “ No Dealgan. She has not been to the birth registrar of lower Langairea.”
“ What about…” Iocht began but Muirfean cut him short.
“ Nor that of Upper Langairea. I even checked that of the C.U.L.A.E. Nothing. She’s not here. If she has been born in Mabhcill she could be in any town up and down the coast or around the mountain.” He stated as he still tried to catch his breath. The C.U.L.A.E was the Church of Upper Langairea Aishan Elves, a small group of converters responsible for most of the rebellions. A few elves that began to disbelieve that their saviour was ever going to be born, had left upper Langairea and travelled around Saor. They had witnessed the rise of the children of Aisha, and when they had returned to Mabhcill, set up the church in honour of Aisha and her children.
Dealgan nodded and sighed. “ She could be anywhere. There are numerous amounts of immortal elves across the lands of Saor, both here in the eastern Lands and across the Laphos Ocean in the western lands. It could take years to find her.” Iocht laughed. “ What are you laughing at?”
“ Just at how frustrated you sound. It’s not going to take years. It will take a matter of minutes.”
“ How Iocht?” Muirfean asked.
Dealgan smiled, as he understood. “ We go to the source. Am I right Iocht?” Iocht nodded.
“ What the Volcano?” Muirfean asked confused. His two companions looked at him in awe. They still wondered how this young elf had been selected down in Lower Langairea to join them in the council. “ Ah so it’s not the Volcano?” He asked. “ What’s the source then?” he cried, as he grew agitated.
“ Muirfean, I was wondering …” Iocht began, throwing his arm over the boys shoulder. “ Have you ever been to The Drinking Horn?”
Muirfean shook his head. “ No I usually drink in The Mabhcill Inn. In fact I think this is the farthest I’ve ventured from the council building since I came above ground.” He informed them honestly, as he began to follow them in the direction of the inn.
Dealgan turned and looked at him. “ How long have you been above ground?”
Muirfean shrugged his shoulders. “ Not sure. I think it’s about twelve years now.” Dealgan nodded. That was okay. If he had been above ground for more that fifty, then it wouldn’t have been acceptable. “ So where is this Drinking Horn then?”
It is on the outskirts of the city, at the edge of the crater, at the west arch. It has the best views of Mabhcill. At night, if you look out through the arch and down at the plains, you can see Elvin towns and villages all lit up; scattered about the plain like seeds with the moon in the back round shimmering the ocean.” Iocht informed him.
Muirfean nodded sounding impressed. “ Sounds nice.”

* * *

“ So is he really upset then?” Liatha asked Aodha. They were on their way to The Drinking Horn, after dropping off the rams’ horns in Aodhas’ workshop. Aodha was the official drinking horn maker for the entire east rim of Upper Langairea. He shared his workshop with a silversmith named Gearoid, who made beautiful gilded bits for Aodhas’ horns as well as the finest jewellery in Langairea. Between the two of them they had won over two hundred awards.
“Yeah he’s really upset.” Aodha replied. “He loved his job. He was always a bit of a loner when we where children, always sitting in a corner by the central tunnel watching people working. So that job was perfect for him.”
Liatha sighed. “I can’t believe they fired him. He was ecstatic when I saw him this morning. I mean he even kissed me.” Liatha told him as they walked up the steps of the inn.
Aodha laughed. “ O he’ll be regretting that.” He chuckled as he opened the door and held it to let her in first. She threw him a hatefully glare and stepped inside. The two of these getting along with each other was a rare occasion to see amongst their friends; usually they gave each other abuse because they didn’t like each other. They only tolerated each other for two reasons. Firstly for business reasons: as she supplied him with rams’ horns and he gave her money for them. Secondly they were both friends with Lorga.
Liatha looked over at the bar and saw Lorga sitting there, talking to Durlas. He turned around as he heard the door close and waved at the two of them.
“ What took you two so long?” Lorga asked.
“ She wasn’t there when I got to her house. Her mother said she had been gone only ten minutes and that I should return in forty minutes so I went on a stroll into town.” Liatha was an immortal elf born in Upper Langairea to immortal parents. This wasn’t a common occurrence as fewer elves were born to immortal elves above ground than immortal elves to mortal elves below.
“ You’re not the only person I do business with Aodha. And if you must know I sold two of my sheep to a butcher down town. They were getting old.” Liatha scowled. “ A water, please Durlas.”
“ Well you’re not the only person I do business with either. I get bullhorns from a farmer down the mountainside and I have costumers to deal with too. Aren’t I right Durlas?”
“ I’m staying out of this.” He said as he put Liathas’ water on the counter. “ Do you want the same again?”
“ Yeah.” Aodha replied. He turned to Lorga. “ You okay?”
Lorga nodded. “ Yeah. I’ve been thinking. There are loads of other things I could do. I could get work off a farmer during harvest, but then again that’s not for another year. Or I could go off to another town and play ‘weather man’ for them. I mean that’s all I really was to the council. A ‘weather man’. Today will be a bleak day with a few isolated showers by the way.”
Aodha shook his head. “ Sure if worst comes to worst, you could always work for Durlas.”
Durlas stared at Aodha. “ Do you want this drink or will I give it to Lorga and still charge you for it?” He stated bluntly before setting it down on its holder. Aodha said nothing.
The door behind them opened and in walked Dealgan, Iocht and Muirfean. Lorga looked at them and groaned. Of all the places they had to go to it was here. He didn’t mind Iocht though as this was the inn that he drank in most of the time. Durlas and he were good friends. It was Dealgan he had the problem with. And as for Muirfean, Lorga thought he wasn’t fully right in the head. But then again he was only thirty-seven. Still young.
He groaned again when they spotted him. “Do you think their here to see you?” Aodha whispered into his ear. Lorga looked at him and nodded. He got of his chair and approached them.
“ Have you come to roar at me some more?” Lorga asked spitefully, looking from one to the other as he folded his arms across his chest.
“We have come to talk to you.” Dealgan informed him. “Please let us be friends and sit down. I’ll tell you then why we are here.”
“ Why are we here?” Muirfean whispered to Iocht as they sat down at a table.
“ Have patience and you will learn.” Iocht replied.
When the four had seated themselves appropriately, Dealgan, clearing his throat, began to speak. “To start off, we would like to apologise on behalf of the whole council for our behaviour this morning. We spoke with out weighing that information and thinking it through logically.” Lorga stared at them in disbelief. Aodha, Liatha and Durlas all looked at each other and then slowly moved along the bar so they could over hear the conversation better. “Secondly, we would like to know where we could find her.”
“I would have told you earlier this morning but of course you fired me then. So that means I am no longer your employee, which also means I no longer have to give any information.” Lorga bluntly replied folding his arms and leaning back into his chair.
“Look Lorga this is very important. We need to find her. If we don’t and somebody or something evil does she will destroy the whole Elvin race. So please help us!” Iocht begged. Lorga nodded and sighed. So they believed him. That must have been Iocht's doing. Every elf knew that he had a dislike for Lai.
“ What do you need to know?” He asked.
Dealgan looked him straight in the eye and spoke with an omnipotent tone. “ Everything.”
Lorga sighed again and leaned forward on the table. “Her Name is Arianna. It is a name that comes from a human language and means holy, sacred one. Which I think is quite appropriate.” He looked from one to the other. Each one looked patent and attentive which was a large difference from the expressions they bore that morning. “She was born to Immortal elves that settled down in the village of Erna in the Reishe Valley.”
Muirfean looked at him awkwardly. “But isn’t that where the Aishans Gods and goddesses where born? It can’t be there.”
Lorga glared at him. “And why not?” He demanded. “It happens to be the centre of magic in the whole of Saor. If you ask me it’s the most appropriate place it this world for her to be born.”
Dealgan sat there thinking; his hand in the same triangular arch, fingers rapping. Could it be true that there successor too was born in the same place as the Aishans fourteen? Could it be possible that they are connected? If so then could it then even be possible that Aisha herself existed? No that would be going too far, he thought. But he had to believe Lorga. And he probably knew where to find her. Yes he would.
“Lorga.” Dealgan began. “I want you… to go and find her. You are the only one who knows exactly where she is.” He said quite slowly and he still thought things over in his mind. “Your reward for doing so will be great. Anything you wish for most in this world the will be granted by the council.”
“The only thing I want most in this world you can’t grant me. You can’t bring people back to life.” Lorga said quietly and sadly. “But yes I will do it. I’ll find her and bring her back here.”
“Are you MAD?” Aodha cried from the bar. Liatha hit him in the back of the head. The four at the table turned and looked at him. “You can’t just take off and do this for them! A few hours ago they didn’t believe you! They might be just sending you on this trip to get rid of you so you don’t start shouting it through the streets!”
“Don’t be such an idiot Aodha!” Iocht retorted. “We are asking him because we believe him.”
Lorga frowned. “So what, are you not going to come with me then?”
“ Damn straight I am! Cant have you wandering strange lands without your best friend.” Aodha replied before drinking the rest of his mead.
Lorga laughed. Dealgan on the other hand shook his head in frustration. “Lorga we need you attention here.” Well what would you expect? He thought. They are only a few hundred years old. “Look you can take your friend with you but this is really important. We need to get her back here safe do you understand?” He looked from Lorga to Aodha. They both nodded. “Good.” He stated. “Muirfean here will be going with you.”
“What!” Muirfean cried aloud. “But surely you could send someone else! There could be monsters out there!” He mumbled nervously and started to ring his hands.
“You will leave in the morning so I advise you to get all your things ready today and get an early sleep. We will meet you here in the morning.” Dealgan finished and stood up. “Till the morning.” He said leaving the inn followed by a protesting Muirfean.
Iocht on the other hand remained seated. His face bore a grin that stretched from one side to the other. Iocht, being who he was, obviously found the whole situation amusing. He was known throughout the whole Elvin race as being a laid-back person that never let stress get to him. He had always enjoyed life and he had over four thousand years of it.
Looking at Durlas he smiled and said, “Large mead there old Friend.”
Liatha looked at Both Aodha and Lorga, and rolled her eyes. If the two of them where left on their own to find the child, they’d return in four years. She’d go with them and help them find her and bring her back. Smiling to herself she picked up her water and had a sup.

[Pensive]

It is really interesting. Written in a simply vocabulary makes it easier for me to read it. :) Arianna is a pretty name I would have to say! :D

[Niamh]

CHAPTER 3
ON THE ROAD
As the sun began to rise, Lorga sat at his reading post, watching the stars disappear with the coming daylight. After only getting a few hours sleep because his mind was wandering over the coming events that were to being at dawn, he had finished packing his rucksack and headed to the post mainly to be somewhere familiar. He found this small ledge on the side of the mountain calming and tranquil. It was a place where he could reflect his thoughts; get away from the noise of the city. He was certain his two predecessors thought the same.
He knew that soon he would have to leave, head down to The Drinking Horn and face the important task that had been given to him. “At least” he thought “I’ll have Aodha.” He sighed. He knew that no matter what happened Aodha would be there for him. The two of them had known each other since they where young elves running around the dark and gloomy, catacomb city of lower Langairea. Their parents had encouraged their friendship, so that they wouldn’t be alone when the time came for them to pass through the core and go to the surface.
He missed his parents. His mother had been considered a local beauty in there part of lower Langairea. Her long black hair shimmered red under light that crept through little crevices in the volcanic rock. His father had been a baker. Ingredients were imported into lower Langairea from the out side in exchange for quarried rock to build houses in the rest of Mabhcill and beyond. Aodhas dad quarried the rock for Lorgas in exchange for food. It was the way trade was done in lower Langairea. There was no such thing as money. His parents had been kind people. Did a lot for the community including baking extra bread and cakes and distributing to the poor.
His sister Moya took after his mother. She had the same sweet disposition that his mother had. She was to inherit the family business. She had also married Aodhas older brother. As far as Lorga knew the third generation of his family still ran both the quarry and the bakery. It had been over fifty years since he had last visited his home and couldn’t even remember the location of his family crypt amongst the thousands down in Lower Langairea.
Leaning back against his rucksack, Lorga cast his eyes about the vast country below him and smiled contently. He could see small farmsteads scattered irregularly down the side of the mountain. Small villages were lit up by street lamps, the villages themselves appearing as if they were clusters of fireflies resting on the flat plains and outlining the Laphos Ocean, shimmering silver under the fading moonlight, vanishing in the darkness of the distant horizon. He could hear the slight trickling of a spring somewhere below him; the water slowly splashing off stones were it creeps out from in the mountain, before slithering down the mountainside and meandering like a snake through the valley.
Looking to the sky, he gazed at the stars one more time before they blended into the sky. The ever-lightening sky appeared to be drifting westwards, brightening the landscape in the awakening dawn. The clouds gave off a slight pink hue making the sky appear as if it had been painted. He could hear larks in the distance singing their ode to the morning. With that he knew it was his time to head down to The Drinking Horn.
As he stood up he picked up his cloak, slipping it over his shoulders. He had spent some time the previous day patching up the tears it had received the day before. Unfortunately the only colour patches he had were grey, which stood out against the wine colour of his cloak. As soon as he had his rucksack on his back he headed back down towards the arched gateway of the city. He followed the little track that had been beaten into the landscape by every star reader who had used the plateau for his work. The plateau was known locally as the Carraig Realta or Star Rock due to the job of the person who sat upon it. When he reached the arch he looked back at the plateau. It would be months until he could feel the solitude of the Carraig Realta again. Saying a little farewell he stepped through the arch and into the city.





* * *




Muirfean cautiously made his way towards the inn. He had already gotten lost twice trying to find it but he was sure he was going the right way this time; certain that he had gone by that peculiar pink coloured house with the odd coloured windmills blowing in the wind the day before. Iocht had told him that the menagerie of elves that lived in the residence had a particular fondness for mysticism, and believed that certain plants could help them gain access into the spirit world. They made their money by contacting the dead for immortal elves whose loved ones had past over.
He gave a sigh of relief when he saw the sign that hung outside the inn flapping in the wind. He would have been there earlier if Iocht had waited for him instead of heading off two hours ago. He could scarcely make out the slumped seated form of Lorga leaning against the outer wall of the inn. He himself could not wait to sit down having walk for over and hour and a half with his heavy bags on his back. He wasn’t quite sure what he should have brought with him, so he had brought practically everything!
Lorga looked up as Muirfean came to a halt, slinging his bag to the ground, before leaning against the wall. “My shoulders are aching.”
Lorga smiled. “ I’m sure it’s not that heavy. You’re probably not use to carrying things around all the time. What did you bring with you anyway?”
“Well I em… didn’t quite know what to bring so I …brought…everything.” He stated smiling faintly as he slid down the wall, seating himself on the ground beside Lorga.
Lorga took a hold of Muirfean's bag, opened the top and glanced inside. Giving Muirfean a look of disbelief he said, “I’m sure Durlas will let you leave some of this…stuff here. I mean, you don’t really need this scales or these…” he began as he took another object out of the bag. “These… what ever they are.”
“They’re my stress balls. My mother gave them to me before I came above ground because I get stressed and panic a lot. They help calm my nerves.” He informed Lorga, snatching them from him, and started to move them around in his hand. “This entire trip has my nerves rattling and we haven’t even left Langairea yet.”
Lorga looked at the boy beside him. Why in the name of Mabhcill did Dealgan chose to send him with them! Shaking his head he started to go through Muirfean's bags, sorting out what he needed from what he didn’t. When he was finished he had reduced four bags down to two; one containing the essentials, clothes, food, a knife and a tin mug and plate, the other bag was rapped around blankets to keep them dry and attached to the top of the first. Looking at Muirfean, Lorga suddenly decided that they were in for a long journey with Muirfean coming with them. Long and interesting! Well that is if Aodha hasn’t killed him by the end of the trip. Aodha had a low tolerance for snivelling nervous wrecks like Muirfean. Yes. It was going to be interesting indeed!





* * *





Aodha wandered around his home picking up stuff and throwing them in a rucksack. He was already running late, all because he didn’t want to get out of bed. In fact, he still hadn’t even combed his hair yet. And he’d only managed to put one shoe on too. He went over to the table that was situated in the centre of his front room, and picked up a small hip flask. He had just filled it up with the finest malt in the whole of Mabhcill. A few drops would keep him warm when the nights got cold. It was almost winter after all.
‘That’s all I need.’ He thought. ‘I’ll only be gone a short while. A week or maybe two!’ He put the hip flask in to a small pouch on his belt, along with a small dagger and a pouch of coins, and then slung the rucksack over his shoulders. He proceeded to put on his other shoe, which he found under a pile of ram horns. It was only then that he discovered that he hadn’t even put his cloak on. After taking the bag off his back, putting the cloak on and then putting the bag back on, he headed towards the door. Just as he opened the door he found Liatha standing there about to knock. She too had a bag over her shoulders.
“What are you doing here?” he asked her abruptly.
Folding her arms and cocking her head sideways she stated, “Well I decided I’d come too. I knew you would be running late, and seeing as I too am running late decided I should head down to meet Lorga with you!” she throw him a cheeky grin. “Can’t let you Melves have all the fun now can I?”
“Who’s looking after your flock?” He questioned in a quizzical tone.
“ Oh…I put a little spell on them. They’ll go around as if I’m with them. Besides, my parents will keep an eye on them as well.”
He looked at her oddly before nodding his head and closing the door behind him. “We best be off then.” He stated as he started to stroll down the street, heading in the direction of The Drinking Horn.
“Should we not maybe hurry a little?” Liatha asked as she followed him. “I mean Lorga is waiting on us.”
Aodha sniggered sarcastically. “How can Lorga be waiting on you, when he doesn’t even know your coming!”
Liatha frowned and glared at him. “Stop being such a smelf!” (Smart mouthed elf). Tossing her knee length hair over her shoulder, she began to quicken her pace. “Oh and by the way Aodha, have you ever heard of a mirror? Your head is a mess!”
Muttering a curse under his breath, Aodha began to smooth his magma red hair down over his arched ears with his hands. He knew it was going to be a tough mission now that she was going. Not many people liked her; not many people being him and Gearoid, but then they did have to deal with her on a daily bases. He didn’t understand what Lorga liked in her. Yeah she was pretty with pale blonde hair and svelte figure. But that was it as far as Aodha was concerned. She was quick tempered, argumentative, cunning, and extremely mysterious. She plain and simply just knew how to get on his nerves. He believed she enjoyed it too. He knew there was no way he would be able to persuade Lorga not to let her go. Lorga had been infatuated with the girl since the first time he met her.
He still remembered the day they had met. Aodha had just been given his apprenticeship from the council and had gone to the workshop that was now Gearoids and his, and Lorga had tagged along. Liathas parents were clients of Aodhas master Oreacht, and where at the workshop with there daughter when Aodha and Lorga had arrived. While Oreacht showed Aodha around the workshop, Lorga had stood and chatted to Liatha, and when she had left had stood at the door and watched her walk away with her parents. After that Lorga had tried to speak to her as much as he could until eventually she started to hang out with them in The Drinking Horn. Aodha had thought that there was something odd about her but there was no telling Lorga that. He was totally head over heels. Over two hundred years later she was still around, much to Aodhas disappointment. Over two hundred years later Lorga was still suffering from a serious bout of unrequited love.
As he was passing by his workshop, he took a letter out of his pocket and slid it under the door. Better let Gearoid know that he was going on a trip, and to ‘man the fort’ while he’s away. He looked at the plaque on the door. It read, ‘Gearoid MacFee, silversmith and Aodha McBarrog, drinking horn maker- best tradesmen in Upper Langairea in the year 4012 AG (Above Ground)’. Smiling to himself, he took the edge of his cloak and started to polish it.
“By the fire of a thousand volcanoes Aodha, we haven’t got all day!” Liatha bellowed ferociously. “Maybe for once you can actually think of what’s important, like getting to the inn for example!”
Staring at her, he walked down the steps and started to stroll again. “I have to let my fellow tradesman know that I’m going away for a while.” He stated. “Can’t have Gearoid turn up and start wondering where I am. He’d end up sending out a search party.”
‘You mean throw a party!’ Liatha smugly thought to herself. She looked ahead as The Drinking Horn came in to view. She could vaguely make out two figures sitting on the ground in front of the inn. She waved to Lorga and ran on a head of Aodha. Lorga and Muirfean stood up and began to gather their thing, while at the same time putting Muirfean’s two bags of utter junk under the steps of the entrance to the inn. Lorga had attached a note to the top of it for Durlas, which read,

‘ Durlas,
My apologies for leave these items outside your establishment, but if it is no hassle to you, could you store these items somewhere for Muirfean. As you can see, he kind of brought too much with him. He will collect them on his return.
Cheers,
Lorga.
P.S. thanks for the map!’

Lorga smiled when he saw Liatha; his stomach jolted with excitement. “When did you decide to come?”
“When I decided that it wasn’t fair for you Melves to get all the fun.” She smiled sweetly at Muirfean who was standing beside Lorga. “Hi. I’m Liatha.” She said stretching her hand out.
Muirfean stared at her and after the sixth time he said ‘I’, he finally got the sentence “I am Muirfean… am pleased to meet you” out.
Aodha joined them, after a short silence, cleared his throat, and said, “Should we not start to make a move on or do we have to wait for Dealgan and Iocht?”
“Iocht left Upper Langairea about two and a half hours ago. He said he would meet us down in some town called Graigue. He said something about securing passage to the west.” Whinged Muirfean.
With that, they all began to walk towards the arched gateway dug out in the side of the caldera. There are four of these gateways, one to the north, one to the south, one to the east and the one they where heading for in the west. The first settlers excavated them, because they were tired of having to climb the steep sides of the caldera every time they wanted to head down the mountain. After passing through the arch they started the slow decent down the side of the mountain towards the ocean, occasionally slipping on the dewy grass, or tripping over a jutting stone.
It was well in to morning by the time they reached the first village. The smells of breakfasts cooking filled the air, teasing their nostrils and making their stomachs rumble. They decided that it was time to stop and have a quick rest. It was a nice morning. The sun was out and it was quite warm for late autumn. They sat down at a small stream that ran along the edge of the village, filled a drinking horn up with water and passed it around to quench their thirst. They feasted on cheese and griddle bread, both of which had been made by Liatha.
Lorga looked about him. It appeared as if they had already climbed one third of the way down the volcano. It was a very old volcano, weather beaten through the years, inactive for hundreds of thousands of years, so it was quite small. He judged that they should reach the bottom and the town of Graigue by noon. He could see it down at the edge of the sea. It appeared to be a large walled port town situated on either side of the Moyria River. The ocean stretched far into the north, down along the coast to the south and beyond the distant horizon in the west.
Soon they were heading down mountainside once more, deciding it would be quicker to go straight down the grassy slope than along the commercial road. The further down the volcano they got, the more farmsteads and villages the passed. Children playing chasing in fields, or swinging on makeshift swings hanging from the branches of trees; some were situated over streams and small rivers, the children jumping off the swings and into the water, or trying to see who could make it to the other side without falling in.
Just after noon, they reached the gates of the town. By this time Muirfean was a nervous wreck and getting on everybody’s nerves. They walked under the portcullis and into busy streets of Graigue. Carts with animals and baskets of produce past on either side of them, heading in and out of the town. The town was laid out in a similar fashion to upper Langairea, except they had small rectangular houses with plots as opposed to circular ones. The streets were cobbled with large shaped stones, which created a curve in the structure of the roads so that rainwater could run off the street into channels that led to the river.
Aodha stared in wonder. “Upper Langairea is so different compared to this place. This place doesn’t have that laid back feel about it that Upper Langairea has.”
Muirfean nodded in agreement. Graigue enraptured him. “Kind of like Lower Langairea, but with out all the tunnels and passage ways.” Lorga and Aodha nodded in agreement. Liatha on the other hand could not compare. She had never ventured down in to the lower depths of Langairea as she was born to immortal elves in Upper Langairea. However, she had been in Graigue many a times. They stopped on a street corner where a few streets merged as they headed towards the river.
Lorga turned to Muirfean who was looking in the window of a bakery. “Right, where do we have to meet Iocht?” He asked Muirfean who had just bought a strudel pastry at the hatch in the bakery window and had already started to eat it.
“I’m not sure. He said something about an inn on the quay. This is lovely. Would anyone like some?” The town had grasped Muirfean’s curiosity so much that he had actually forgotten to be nervous.
Liatha folded her arms and looked at him. “Did he happen to say which inn?” She inquired. He nodded. “Well what’s it called then?”
Muirfean suddenly paled and started to panic again. “I a…I…a…can’t remember!” he yelped.
“Fantastic. Cheers Iocht! Leave the directions with the nervous neurotic head case.” Aodha spat as he leaned against the whitewashed wall of the bakery.
Liatha glared at Aodha in disgust. ‘He has no consideration for other peoples’ feelings’. She turned to Muirfean. “It’s ok Muirfean. I have been here hundreds of times. I know almost every inn in the town.”
“I’m sure you do.” Aodha muttered under his breath. Liatha turned and glared at him.
Lorga sighed. This will be a long journey if they have already started their bickering! If only they could learn to tolerate each other.
“Now I’m going to name a few to you while we walk down to the keys.” Liatha continued. He nodded to her and they started walking down to the river.
Aodha turned and looked at Lorga almost mutinously. Lorga just shrugged his shoulders and said. “Dealgan and Iocht wouldn’t have sent him on this trip if they didn’t have a good reason to.” He stated as they followed the other two down the street.
“Well…” Aodha began. “He better start showing his worth or I’m throwing him over board.”



* * *



Twenty minutes later after walking the length if the northern quays they crossed over the stone double vaulted bridge to the southern quays. Liatha was still naming inns to Muirfean. By now, she was ready to push him in to the Moyria River.
“The Saor Teacht Inn?” She asked tiredly. Still he shook his head. She began to rub her forehead. “I can’t think anymore!” She cried in agitation. After taken a few deep breaths. “Okay I have a few more. The Shame Squire?”
“No it definitely wasn’t that.” He replied.
“Okay How about Gallma House?”
Muirfean’s face light up. “Yes that rings a bell. He said something about meeting someone in Gallma House.”
Liatha frowned. She had a dislike for the place. It was always full of men from south-west Soar. King Taliesin’s traders. In her opinion, they were pure scum of the earth. They were filthy dirty, lice ridden pirates, who came to the Elvin lands to trade, and while no one was looking, would kidnap elves for the slave trade. She refused to sell sheep to men who would just as quick try to sell you or rape you. “Follow me” Was all she could say. They would soon find out what type of establishment their friend Iocht was associating with. She walked them all the way down the quays towards the merchants dock. They could hear the noise from the inn before they could even see it. As soon as the inn was in sight, Aodha came to a halt.
“There is no way I’m going in there.” He cried. “Are you sure we have to meet Iocht here?” Muirfean nodded.
The Gallma House was a large rotting wooden building that appeared as if it leaned to one side. It had a few smashed windows that had metal bars on the outside. It was painted a dull white colour, where the exposed beams were painted black. They could see smoke billowing from a small chimney at the rear of the roof.
Lorga stared at the building in astonishment. ‘Iocht must have a good reason for choosing this’. He thought. ‘Maybe he mentored the person who owns this, the way he’s always mentoring me’. He turned to his friends. “Shall we?” He opened the door, and entered. The first thing that struck them was the rank smell of sweat and urine. The second was how much smaller they were to humans. The tallest man appeared to be around six foot five in height, while the tallest elf was about five foot six. The elves in the establishment were easy to notice.
“I hate this place.” Liatha cursed under her breath as they made their way through the mass of over weight drunken sailors who kept pinching her bottom and trying to force her onto their knees. “Get you hands off me you snakes.” One man managed to get a good grip on her and turned her around to face him. He was an ugly fierce looking man with only half his teeth. He was a giant of a man with arms like tree trunks. She cursed under her breath as she recognised him.
“Well…well…well boys, look who we have here. Where you going little sheepherder?” he teased. Liatha struggled trying to free herself from his iron grasp. “I’m not going to ‘urt ya. I just wanna play a little that’s all.” A few of his friends started sniggering. He brought her up against him. “How about I take you somewhere a bit more private darling?”
“I told you once Talfryn and I’ll tell you again. Get your hands off me or you’ll be sorry. I am not a whore for you to play with!” She turned her face away from him as he tried to kiss her before dragging her towards the stairs to the private quarters. She spotted Lorga and the others amongst the crowds and called to him.
Lorga turned to where Liatha called from and watched as the brut tossed her over his shoulder and headed up the stairs. “Liatha!” he called after her before charging through the room towards the stairs Aodha quick at his heels. Before he could run up the stairs, another swifter elf ran up the stairs before him.
The elf charged into the room after the man. “Put that elf down Talfryn or I’ll knock the rest of your teeth out.”
He turned and looked at his challenger just as Lorga and Aodha reached the door. He dropped Liatha down on the bed and stepped forward laughing. “You thing you’re a match for me Girly?” Liatha crawled along the wall towards Lorga. Talfryn noticed and went to grab her back, but as he let his gaze slip from the elf, she whipped throwing knives out of her belt and within seconds had him pinned to the wall. Lorga ran over to Liatha to see if she was okay. Aodha on the other hand was staring awestruck at the female elf before him as she walked up to the man and punched him, knocking him out cold, and then removed her knives from the wall. Talfryn slowly slumped to the ground.
She turned to them, her red hair sweeping her eyes and said, “My Father said you lot would get yourselves in trouble. Come. He’s expecting you.” She walked past them, throwing a quick glance at Liatha and headed down the stairs. They were quick to follow. When they got down the stairs, they found Muirfean cowering against the wall. “Another one of yours I gather.” She looked at him amused. “Come on. It’s time to sort out business. By the way, you can call me Casana.”