“What do you mean, you’ve got one?” Ilona sat across from the elf, legs crossed and brow raised. Though she spoke to him, her eyes remained on her scabbarded blade hanging upon a hook behind the inn’s tavern bar. With recent events, tensions within Tymerande were high and within the Town of Aruishae, in particular, there was little tolerance for carrying weapons openly in common areas.OOC: This is in relation to the quest thread, found by clicking here.
“Should we switch to Tradespeak? Would that help you to better understand?” the elf said, blinking. He was quite slender, pale-skinned and had the bluest eyes Ilona had ever seen. He was looking at her with an inquisitive and yet very patient expression.
Ilona allowed her eyes to drift from her father’s sword, if not with a little hesitation, to the elf across from her. Withholding a sigh, she continued to speak in a rather pedestrian form of High Elven. “Pardon me, no. I understood you, it’s just that I found it rather surprising. What I should have asked was, how were you able to catch one of the bandits?”
The elf did not answer straight away, he seemed in very little rush to answer any of Ilona’s questions at all – which irked her, though just a little. She realized elves were seldom, if ever, in a rush for that matter. Still, his silence proved an opportunity for her to make an additional inquiry. Thus, she added, “It’s just, I am curious as to why the town put out a call for aid at all if they are capable of taking matters into their own hands?”
“Ah,” he responded, at his leisure, “His capture was truly happenstance. For the most part, the renegades targeting our towns have been harassing our divers and appropriating our pearls. However, in more recent months they’ve escalated the molestation of our residents by invading their very homes and taking anything of value. Pearls are not our only industry, you see. In fact, a group of these bandits attempted to abscond with my neighbour’s horses – he breeds some of the finest in the barony – but when they broke into his stables they were unprepared for what awaited them.”
Ilona could not help but notice the elf had switched to the common tongue. Was her elvish so bad, she wondered? Regardless, she abandoned the elvish tongue as well and queried in kind, “What was that?”
“That finest horses in the barony also happened to be the most loyal horses in the barony,” the elf leaned back in his chair with his answer, and grinned. Even his exceptionally white teeth were perfect.
She had to laugh, “Your neighbour’s horses did what neither the barony of Tymerande nor Radasanth’s barony could not?” She found the image in her minds-eye terribly amusing.
The elf’s grin vanished and his phlegmatic expression returned as he replied, “Happenstance, m’lady. As I said. The horses are as indifferent to the imperialists and rebels as they are to these deserters, it was not for the loyalty of Corone that they resisted capture but for the love of their master for they-”
“Are as loyal as they are fine,” Ilona finished his sentence for him, her laugher ceasing though a mild smirk remained upon her face.
“Precisely,” the elf said, offering a nod. He actually seemed more pleased than insulted that Ilona had cut him off. She realized that he found her appearance interesting, if not a bit of an amusing contrast. The fair-haired maiden in such masculine attire.
Ilona pandered to his amusement, by straightening the cuffs of her white shirt while inquiring further, “How exactly was this man caught… by the most loyal beasts of the barony?”
The elf gave a small sigh, and confessed, “In truth, as my neighbour has recounted: when he’d gone to check on his horses therein the stables, after hearing of the fuss from within his home, he witnessed a somewhat grisly scene. One of the bandits had been trampled to death, another fled on foot - perhaps more had done so, my neighbour was uncertain just how many of them there had been – while the one that remained had been injured. He found him bloodied and cowering in one of the stalls surrounded by the very chargers they’d let loose.”
“Were they not armed?” Ilona asked.
“Surely. Some of the horses were left with grievous wounds, a few had to be put down following the event,” he answered, and while his tone was cool Ilona thought she detected a small glimmer of his ire as he went on, “Though by then, half the town had rallied to my neighbour’s aid as the bandit’s own brothers had abandoned him to his fate. We have captured one, by chance, yes. Unfortunately, there is a growing number of these renegades and Corone is not doing enough to get rid of them.”
Ilona allowed for a pause, ere asking, “Will he be tried?”
“Not in Aruishae. We shall leave that to courts of Serenti,” he told her.
Another pause. Finally, Ilona admitted, “I’m not sure how I can help.”
This answer prompted a surprisingly expedient reply from the elf in turn, “You belong to House Heartwood, did you not mention?”
She hadn’t, but Ilona was more interested in where his own line of questioning was going than she was about how he’d known her family name. She obliged him and said, “Yes.”
“Our pleas have gone ignored and unanswered, time and again. Our own barons deafen their ears to the cries of townsfolk and villagers along the Tymerande coast, yet you are a noblewoman. Perhaps they would listen to another of their standing, in lieu of the voices of us smallfolk whom are so affected.” His gaze fell from her own.
Ilona did her best not to grimace. It was not lost on her just how desperate the coastal dwellers must have been, to supplicant so. Especially to one such as herself, who barely held onto title and meagre inheritance as it stood. You are a noblewoman, his words repeated in her mind. Long ago, she thought to herself. Though the decision she came to, quietly, caused her discomfort, she sighed and replied, “I hear Serenti is lovely this time of year.” She had put the implications together on her own, and understood that agreeing to help in this manner would undoubtedly mean going along with the prisoner’s escort to Tymerande’s largest city for his trial.
The elf exhaled, deeply. He raised his glance, all but sighing, “Thank you. As the bulk of our collective finances has been put aside as a reward for the completion of the contract in putting these renegades out of business, I’m afraid we cannot offer you much in the way of compensation for your time and effort.”
“It is not for profit that I would offer my name,” Ilona began, hesitating to finish, “To benefit your cause.” For of what benefit could the name of a disowned noble be, she thought silently to herself in the next instant. She sighed, adding, “It is merely the decent thing to do.”
He responded in elvish, “Should ever there comes a time, though I hope for your sake it should not, that you or yours are in need of refuge – know that you and any who would speak the name of Heartwood shall find friends in Aruishae going forward.” He sighed, adding in the common tongue, “If Aruishae is still standing.”
“The renegades will be dealt with. I cannot promise that my name will prompt such action, but those who prey upon others walk a dead-ended path. At some point, those along such paths are forced to turn ‘round and the predator becomes the pursued,” she told him, rising from their table.
“I hope you are right,” the elf sighed, though remained seated.
“It is the way of all things,” Ilona added. With that, she bid the elf good evening and left him to approach the bar. She addressed another elf behind such. “It appears I shall require a room for the evening. I understand that arms are not permitted in the common area, but would it be possible to have my belongings brought up to my room?” Her eyes went above his head, to the line of weapons hanging from the hooks suspended on high and slightly behind the bar itself. She looked to her father’s sword and added, “It is of sentimental value.”
The elf followed her gaze, and nodded.
“Thank you,” she replied. From there, there was a small exchange of further conversation, and an exchange of coin. Following which, Ilona was informed that a room had been readied for her.
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