- - - Radasanth, Corone - - -

“Holy shit, Sorian!” Storm excitedly squirmed in his seat. The intrigue had distracted him from the fact the staff had still not returned with any drinks. “I’d been wondering what happened to her.”

Sorian smiled with a little chuckle as he basked in his glorious story. “Yes, and while it’s given me a permanent limp, I am proud to have beaten her. My greatest rival for sure.”

“So, if you think about it. To accomplish her biggest achievement, as if conquering Alerar, maybe even more, the only way she could do it, was to use her greatest enemy. A high risk, for a high reward.”

“Well. I don’t know of another undead skeleton that has the sentiance to do what they wanted Elite to do. I’d be dead if not for him. He came back and carried me out of, Alerar. Now, though, with this injury, and my age, I must retire for sure.”

Storm nodded in appreciation while still wondering why their drinks had never arrived, and why the waitress had not returned. God, damn it.

“So.” Storm stood up and left the table to look about the room. “How old are you anyway?

“Old enough to wrinkle without sitting in a bath.”

Storm smirked at this comment. Realising that the entire room was empty, and that no alcoves sat other people. Where are the other couples? Wait, did I just refer to us as a couple? Clearly, someone else wants the information I’m after.

“What’s wrong, Storm?”

Storm held up his hand to usher silence. His ears perked to listen for something more than just himself and Sorian. He adjusted and pulled up the cuffs on his jacket, then cracked his wrist and fingers. “I asked for privacy when I arranged this. But this silence is a bit much.”

Sorian raised to his feet, walking stick in one hand, sword in the other. Now he focused away from his story, this place had fallen with an eerie silence. Considering how bustling this place had been when he arrived, this silence was clearly a problem. Storm signalled to exit the rear door as he peered down the entryway.

Sorian raised his stick up to use as a make-shift club, he could limp enough to move without it. The white walls at least kept this place bright and easy to see, but the lack of people was disturbing. The sunlit rear door appeared clear and the song of starlings tweeting outside continued as normal, but these were false signs and both Sorian and Storm knew it. Peeping his head around the door a large Dwarf stood, armoured and carrying a hammer that equaled him in size. Sorian limped outside in front of him, the quiet back garden was mostly walled off from the street, and the Dwarf stood by the only exit gate.

“Sorian.” He bellowed out.

“I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

“My name is irrelevant to you, however, your knowledge is relevant to me.”

“And what knowledge would that be, exactly?”

“I want to know where the sword is.” He raised his hammer in a threatening manner, displaying it in all its steel glory for him to see in the light of day.

“It’s a power that is too much for anyone one person.”

“Regardless of its powers, its value is unprecedented. It’ll go towards funding the families for the murder of its people.”

“I’m afraid the person who caused that event is dead. Cazri died on the battlefield.”

“Stop playing games. This doesn’t need to end with your death. I just want its location. Then I’ll leave you alone.”

“I never found the sword. I was nowhere near the battlefield when they recovered it. I never even saw it.”

Storm slipped round the door to find them in the garden. Several dwarves followed him from behind, but now one large one remained blocking their rear exit.

Fuck. Well, one is better than fighting six. Say goodbye, dickhead.

Without a word, but giving the dwarf a mischievous grin, storm stood with his legs evenly apart, thrusting his hands forward and staring down at him like down the barrel of a gun, he let rip with a powerful blast of electric energy. The white and blue sparks poured from his palms like sparkling water, before flying across the garden and knocking the large armoured dwarf off his feet and crashing into the old stone wall behind him.

The dwarf collapsed with a slump.

Quickly turning around as if to spin on the heel of his boot, Storm slammed the rear door shut and shoved some outdoor seating up behind its handle.

“My friend. I think it’s time we vacated this establishment.”

Sorian did not take the time to question anything any further, they charged through the rear gate, and as if Storm had planned this escape to begin with, his horse waited patiently tied to a post. They made haste from the restaurant area and ensured they were not being followed, circling a few spots and taking short alleyways they were soon free from any form of chase or observation.

Finally giving the horse a rest they stopped by the capitol building of Radasanth. Stepping off their horse before the mighty entrance, looking like ants before the entryway, Storm this time tied his horse to the mini stables post for security. He tossed a few gold coins to the stablemaster and then looked up at the guards who patrolled the stairwell to the entrance.

Sorian stared up at the statues gracing the top of the pillars, he had never been a stone mason, but the many poses of the statues were impressive, and he always appreciated the effort it must have taken to not only create these, but have them raised and placed up top the giant pillars.

“Well. I’m not entirely innocent of motive here. I promised I’d find out what happened to the sword. It never crossed my mind that the helmet, and maybe another item, would have played a part in all of this.”

“I figured. But if we were going to hurt one another, we’d have done it long before now.”

“Still, I think they followed me. I saw them earlier and failed to deal with it. You should be okay getting home. This part of the city is patrolled heavily.”

“I hadn’t come across any dwarves from Alerar since I got home. I hadn’t thought about being followed.”

“Well I haven’t killed their leader, nor have I stolen the sword. Not something I thought I’d be saying, but either way, it keeps me off their hit list. You should watch your back.”

“I will.” Sorian nodded in appreciation.

“Anyway, I now [I]have[I] to report on what I know. Damn Corone Council of rich big wigs.”

“I never suspected you’d feel you had to do anything for the council.”

“Well, if I want some of that payday they promised. Then, yes, I do. I’ll take them for what it's worth and then they can bicker amongst themselves. Besides which, I have both booze and women waiting for me when I get back.”

Sorian laughed, this was more like the Storm he knew. “Then good luck getting something out of them.” With that, Sorian turned to leave, returning to using his walking stick to make walking that much easier.

“Sorian, wait!” Storm called out. “We should do this again sometime soon. A good ale, a good woman, and no interruptions! At least tell me. What did happen to the sword?”

Sorian smiled once again, a big knowing smile that was going to make Storm question his answer. “We destroyed it.” With that Sorian left, walking down the street.

Well played, old ma... friend.