A Winter Meeting

Quote:

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Closed to Valandil

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Grey light tickled the underneath of gentle clouds. From behind one peeked the first quarter cresent of the moon. Stars shone in meagre places where the light pollution did not reach, and all meanwhile a lone albatross flew south.

It was deep winter in Corone, and the fires were hot. Elsewhere in Althanas there was no time to be cold, but here the chill bit just fine in the dead of night. Especially by the harbour, where the gawking and nattering birds fought over scraps left by the fishermen. An easy wind blew in from the ocean, freezing the air so it felt like the tundra of Salvar, turning the dew to frost.

Wrapped up in a fluffy blanket that was pulled up around her neck, the faun walked across the jetty, hooves clattering on the wood slats. Some were loose, and they creaked beneath the weight of her and her - her endearments. Behind her strode the proud and lithe form of her constant fox companion, and beneath the foundations that made up the city of Radasanth she could feel the presence of Delath, the earth dragon. Wingless now and dedicated to the soil and roots he carved his way like a terrible worm through the ground, able to come up at any moment and strike. But for now there was no trouble. There was just rest and time, and Philomel was making her simple way to her ship.

The Fiesty Fox, artfully misspelt as always, was resting at the end of a jetty. Her crew were sprawled all over the city, for the ship had been in harbour already for two weeks and had no direct plans of sailing any time soon. The red silks that indicated the floating brothel open for business had not been seen for some months now, all leading to some beginning to have suspicions that the ship was now seeking other ways of gaining money, other than renting out the desirable bodies of their officers and crew.

The real truth was in the fact that Philomel had something else bothering her these days. Ever since she had met her goddess in the flesh and been tasked with the duty of bringing nature's wrath to those who would despise it, her mind had been greatly troubled. Gone were her richly extravagant whoring days, instead they were limited to those nights of high profile clients who paid well and gave her power.

As she got onto the icy deck of the ship and then made her way down to her cabin she felt the familiar weight of the world descend on her. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but a known one. The sense that there was a singular task that needed to be carried out to save the world from itself, and she was the only one who could succeed. It was horrible, weighty, and threatened to drown her, but the faun was stronger on her furry winter-protected hooves than any other, in body and in spirit. She settled down to a strong brandy, Veridian on her lap, and lay back in her hammock. The frozen night wore on, she tugged her blanket around her close.

The cold wind had began to pick up when the stranger entered the town. The sun had been gone for hours and the temperature had dropped, however this did not stop the stranger's intent. With the hood of his cloak pulled up to keep the cold out and to stop the frost nipping at his ears, Valandil looked around for an inn or somewhere to settle down for the night. As much as he loved the outdoors he had spent enough nights outside in the elements and wanted some form of roof over his head.

The snow had began to fall again and bringing up Valandil's rear, pouncing playfully in the snow at anything and everything, was a grey and white wolf pup. Dak loved the snow. It was new and exciting. The noise when he put a paw in a fresh piece of untouched snow, or the crack of ice on a puddle were all new and wonderful to the young wolf. Nose to the ground, pushing through the snow as if on a mission almost as if he had to collect every smell there was ... he was so busy searching that he nearly crashed into his "father's" leg. Valandil looked down at the pup gave a quick smile and petted the wolfs head.

"Come now," said Valandil, "You might be alright for a while longer in this weather but I want heat," and with that took off down the street.

As they continued walking Valandil looked at all the boats moored and took a moment to enjoy the sounds of the creaking masts and wood in the night air. The town was silent. But not totally silent as not far off Valandil could hear noise that sounded like a tavern or inn. A quick shoulder jerk to adjust his bag back on to his shoulder and they were off towards the noise of hopeful shelter and maybe a drink. As he rounded the corner Valandil saw it from under the tip of his hood an inn. 'The Drunken Pony' the sign read with a picture of a pony on its hind legs like a man staggering down a road. Valandil opened the door and stepped through, only holding it open slightly longer than necessary to let Dak sneak through, who was now as close to his "father" as his own shadow. His eyes were watching everyone any sudden moves and then he was off like lightning. He may be a wolf but he still had some growing to do.

Valandil removed his hood and scratched his hair to let it breathe and not itch. He tucked a few lose strands behind his ear and headed to the bar. The bar itself was relatively quiet but as for the time it was to be expected. He reached the counter and was greeted by the dwarf behind it who was standing on a barrel to oversee his domain.

"'Elp you sir?" He enquired.

"A drink of whatever to warm my blood again and a room for the night with a fire to dry the winter off."

"Right you are sir," the dwarf replied, jumping from his barrel. "The room may take a few minutes to set up," he pourer a drink and passed it to Valandil, "Hot rum warm you up in no time. While your room is prepared why not sit at the fire over there and warm yourself up again," said the inn keeper as he came round the bar to make up the room.

As he did he came face to face with the wolf pup. Stopping as suddenly as he started the dwarf was taken aback and was about to throw the pair out - when Dak licked his face.

"I don't normally allow ... Pets ... In my place sir... But with the weather as it is I'll allow it just this once," he said and petted the pup.

Valandil thanked the dwarven inn-keeper most kindly in his native elven tounge. Valandil turned and headed to the fire to wait and warm with his drink he passed a table who were talking about a sailing brothel that stopped into town.

"The sassy vixen," said one.

"No, the bounding bunny," said another.

"No the fiesty fox," said the last as he downed his beer.

They were complaining that the brothel hadn't been open, that the girls were just trying to tease the hard working men of the town, and that their "busty" leader as they named her was the worst for it - walking around with her assets and not selling them or giving a sample. Valandil shook his head and smiled under his breath at the drunks and sat down at the fire and drank his drink.

He had been sitting for around ten minutes when the dwarf appeared next to him saying his room was ready and led Valandil down the hall to the room. It was a basic room a single bed, a desk with a chair next to fire place with a fire burning away silently, and on the floor another blanket and pillow.

The dwarf said, "I've manged to scrounged up a little food that was left. 'Fraid it ain't much just a bowl of stew and bread." He pointed to the table where the food lay and on the floor a smaller portion in a bowl.

Valandil looked down at the dwarf and said, "For someone who says he doesn't like animals in his place you have gone out your way to accommodate my friend here."

The dwarf's faced reddened as his soft side had been discovered. Before he could say anything Valandil thanked him and passed him a few coins and entered the room.

Dak headed straight for his food on the floor and in no time had eaten the stew and started on the bread. Valandil took off his cloak and laid it over the chair to dry at the fire, and began to take off his swords and other equipment. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Dak trying to climb up on the table to get the other bowl of stew.

"Oi," shouted Valandil, "You've had yours it's your own fault if you've eaten too fast!"

The wolf pup sat down and tried to look miserable - a look that often proved invaluable to get food, and this night was no different. A roll of his eyes and Valandil gave in and threw the pup a piece of his bread as he sat down and ate his food. After all was done Valandil turned and looked at the bed, the pup was crashed out on it dead to the world. Valandil made up the small blanket on the floor and carefully placed the pup on it. He got into the bed and he made sure to have his sword at fingers touch away. The bed was comfy - the most comfy he could remember, but then again he had been on the road so long any bed was the most comfy. He lay in the bed and began to think of how he ended up here and what his next move should be. As he began to fall asleep the strangest name appeared in his head, "Feisty Fox" and with that he was asleep fingers around the hilt of his sword

The next morning brought clearer skies. A bright sun drifted through her high window and caught her right in the face. Uncomfortably blinking Philomel moaned, groaned and raised a hand to block light's daring strike.

Looking around she saw the hammock she was still in, and the half-finished brandy on a stool beside. Wrapped in his own tail Veridian lay, curled on her chest, snoring very gently. The faun-whore blinked, she sneezed with the brightness of the sun - and then it dawned on her. The light, this far high, was something she never experienced. She always awoke on her own accord, and early. That could only mean day had already begun, and she was very very late for it.

Grabbing the fox she awoke him with a shout. Veridian yelped, gave her a well-deserved swipe with a paw before grumpily leaping off the bed. Hissing at her to continue his repose of a cat he stretched, then promptly lay down where he was and continued to rest.

Go away, he finally said.

There was a thud as Philomel swung off the hammock and her hooves landed on the ground. Swiftly she stripped, down to her furs, then began to layer back up again. She pulled on her chest piece, feeling the need to guard herself, the shimmering red dragonscale glistening like fire beneath the sunlight. Grabbing a swathe of fabric she wrapped it numerous times around her waist before slipping her various weapons into it.

"The day has already begun, Veridian!" she said desperately. "It must be nearly midday and I haven't even got up yet." She pointed accusingly to the brandy that was left. "And I only had half!"

So you slept in, the earth-spirit said, closing his great golden eyes. Its not the end of the world.

"Missing half the day is when you have a ship brothel to manage!" she retorted.

Veridian just huffed in amusement, and snuggled down to rest more. He heard Philomel panic for some more time until she left the cabin, hoof clattering, dressed as if ready for war, even though she was only whoring that day. But in a sense, for her, they were the same thing. Both knives and body were weapons, both departments a battle.

It was early morning when Valandil felt the cold, wet tongue of the young wolf over his face.

"Ugh.... I'm up I'm up!" he said, as he pushed the wolf away.

The elf sat up, swung his legs off the bed and rubbed his face, letting his senses return to him. Blinking, he began to remember the weird sense that he had to look for something ... or someone. He stood up and gave a stretch. A satisfying crack echoed round the room as he stretched his arms. Valandil reached for his bag and rooted for a shirt and got dressed.

The name of the ship still stuck in his mind.

"The Fiesty Fox."

Why?

Why was it in his head? Did it have something to do with why he was travelling? Valandil reached for his bag and found the letter that started this journey.

"Dear Valandil
I hope this letter finds you and in good health. I am in need of your help my village and my family are under attack. I know it was many years ago and I was just a youngling when we met but I hope you still remember the promise you made as we need your help.
Please come to our farm in Paradisa as fast as you can. We need your help.
Yours, Lauren"

Of course he remembered the promise. Although it was many years ago it was engraved into his mind. It was days after his friend Croft's funeral and his niece Lauren had been sitting by the river that flowed through their farm. Valandil had sat next to her and put his arm round her and held her tight. He could feel her holding back her tears. "It's alright young one," Valandil had said, "Your uncle is at peace now."

She sniffed and took a breath. "I know," she said, trying to hold a brave face.

"He always talked about you and how proud he was," Valandil said looking out over the water. "I promise you that if you ever need me no matter where I am I'll be there." At those words she burst into tears and wrapped her small arms round him.

Coming back to his senses Valandil threw on the rest of his clothes and readied to leave. He paid the old dwarf inn keeper and went on his way. The sun was bright and the snow fell lightly as the elf and his wolf companion made their way to the harbour.

The harbour wasn't hard to find now the hard part was finding a ship that would be willing to take him where he needed to go - but there was a problem, Valandil wasn't sure how to get there. There is something about Paradisa that makes it hard to remember or find unless you live there or trade with the inhabitants. Valandil hoped that he could find a captain who would be willing to take him. As he walked down through the docks he looked at all the ships. There were plenty to choose from and all looked in good condition, but something wasn't right with any of them. He could place his finger on it but he felt none of the ships were going to take him, so he just kept walking and looking.

It was then out of the corner of his eye he saw it, the name etched into the hull:

"The Fiesty Fox."

He became so engrossed that he didn't notice the beautiful faun until it was too late.

"Watch!" she cried out as the man swung wildly around.

Wildly - at least it seemed to her. Staring around with large eyes she pulled her body around as shoulder knocked shoulder. Due to the luck of her steady hooves and quick instincts Philomel caught herself before a display of public impropriety could be seen sprawling on the dock walkway. Her hair swung in a delicate tail, falling up and over her shoulder almost perfectly as she regained her balance and came to glare at the man who had betrayed her otherwise proud pace.

Indeed, he was not a man, but an elf. A tall well-built gentleman whose stature and hold spoke of many battles fought and a long history of life endured and struggled through. Intense green eyes were framed by the softest honey-brown hair, a model worthy of a painter with the finest pointed ears any other elf might be envious of. He wore the usual type of warriors garb, complete with swords and other blades aplenty, and looked right back at Philomel with the strength of a thousand souls.

"Excuse you," she said with power in her voice.

Beneath her hooves Veridian scrambled forwards, claws raking on the hard, often sodden, wood. He tilted his head to the side, peering up at the man in a manner not unlike that of his beloved faun - though his had a defined line of curiousity.

He is an elf, he noted.

Yes, I can see that, thank you, she replied as she rolled her eyes.

The elf man seemed confused slightly as he was caught in the rigourous gazes of both faun and fox. Despite his strength that likely defined minotaurs he seemed uncertain, and ready to apologise.

"Who are you and why are you outside my ship?" Philomel said, however, before he could get a word in.