Bath

Thick steam rose from the water all around him. Soothing heat crept slowly into his thin frame, comforting his aching bones and easing tense muscles. Ademar watched lazily as a delicate hand brushed past his neck, and began stroking his chest, gently playing over the half dozen puckered white scars that dotted his torso, then dipped lower, tracing along a long jagged line that crossed horizontally along the bottom of his ribcage.

“So many scars,” the girls’ soft voice lamented in his ear “a shame to blemish such a beautiful body.”

Ademar was paying little attention to the woman sharing his bath. He had paid for her services not, her conversation. Enjoying the heat of the water the elf simply lay his head back on the woman’s breast and closed his eyes completely relaxing his body which slid lower into the tub. She kept talking despite the lack of response yet, Ademar had already slipped into his inner thoughts and her quiet banter fell on deaf ears.

Strangely though, his thoughts lingered on the scars he wore. Not those which disfigured his face but those that laced his arms and torso, the jagged reminders of the often dangerous life he now lived. The small white rings on his torso were testament to a barrage of arrows which had nearly killed him. The long slash across his upper stomach was the doing of a curious snake creature which seemed to be part man, one of many injuries which nearly ended his life. Unseen beneath his thick copper hair was another disfigurement, a mark left by a boulder throwing giant who had tried to crush him from afar. Various other, less noticeable white lines marked him, the signs of battle.

Battle? How had that become such a normal occurrence in my life? Ademar had seen the passing of 118 winters. In the first 116 of those years he managed to remain unscathed. Only in the last two winters had he acquired these scars, scars that belonged to a hardened warrior, not a delicate elf. He was not built for war, certainly not interested in it, yet, he always seemed to be near the center of conflict.

It’s all Cor’Nal’s fault. It was his idea to come to this frozen wasteland in the first place! Adventure is what he had promised; adventure and gold to help us travel back to Caercaster. Now, two years past, I have come within a breath of death too many times and I am no closer to my goal than when I left. Bitterly, he wondered, not for the first time, if he would ever see his ambitions completed or if he would die in the wild wilderness of Eldridge.

His anger passed quickly though, he found it difficult to be angry with the one person who kept him grounded to his past and never questioned the secret motives of Ademar. Despite Cor’Nal’s sometimes infuriating character traits, he had become a dear friend who had saved Ademars’ life many times. When others faltered in battle it was always Cor’Nal who managed to get them out of trouble.

Unlike Luethar. Ademar didn’t know what it was about the halfling, he hadn’t been able to gauge him. The only thing he really knew was that when violence broke out it was likely that the halfling would disappear. Even in the comfort of an inn or tavern, Luethar was more interested in reading than conversing. He did seem to be warming up to Ryan though which, was encouraging, perhaps he would find his place among them and contribute something…

Ademars’ thoughts were interrupted as a glass was pressed into his hand. Opening his eyes he was greeted by a goblet full of wine. Bringing it to his lips he glanced around the room. It was a good size as far as inns go, and clean too. The bed was soft and piled high with blankets, it even had a chamber pot so he didn’t have to go outside. His survey ended on his equipment piled haphazardly beside the bed. Hidden somewhere inside that jumble he knew, were several pouches full of gems and coins, the spoils of their recent exploits. The smooth skin of the womans’ leg rubbed seductively against his own then, her hand slid along the inside of his thigh. Ademar took a long swallow from his glass before placing it back on the table next to the tub. Perhaps the scars were becoming worthwhile after all…