Goodale

Leaving the accursed tower and the forest that held it far behind him, Ademar continued north. He pushed himself hard, traveling completely beyond the borders of Westheath and crossing over into the Dodanna Freelands, a sparsely populated marshland that stretched from the mountains known as The Broken Lands in the west all the way to halfling kingdom of Murgar in the east.

He had been away from Caercaster now for several weeks and yet his journey had just begun. Ademar redoubled his efforts to avoid civilization and curbed his curiosity near interesting places for another many weeks while he traveled always northward and away from his past problems.

Still he marched on not having knowledge of where he was going nor really where he was exactly. The mountains had faded into the distance behind him leaving a vast grassland before him. The few trees he encountered were full of green leaves, showing that summer was fully upon the land. The rains became cool relief as shelter from the sun became increasingly rare yet, he continued on, his soul full of inner turmoil. Eventually the elf did come to terms with his aimless wandering.

At the first snow, that is when I will stop. He told himself. The first snow will mark the end of my travel. There I will find shelter for the winter and then I will return to Caercaster in the spring. He felt that some of the burden had been lifted from his aching shoulders. The fact that he had formulated some sort of action plan came as an unexpected relief to the beleaguered elf. Yes, it will be fitting that Kendrick Cwik dies in the spring. That always was Deedras’ favorite time of year.

*** *** *** *** ***

The predawn glow crept into the massive forest that surrounded Goodale chasing the darkness further west as the sun approached the eastern horizon. The people here had named the large conifer forest The Crown Wood as it sat at the northern edge of the continent like a green crown upon the land. Despite the early hour, two shadowy forms made their way silently across the carpet of dry twigs and pine needles on the forest floor. In the lead was a large grey wolf, its black nose sniffing the air, intently following a scent deeper and deeper into the wood. Close behind the wolf followed an elf covered head to toe in some exotic armor apparently made of overlapping wooden plates shaped like leaves of various trees. They weaved effortlessly through the dimly lit tree trunks, moving with such speed and grace an onlooker would swear they were ghosts.

The elf, Cor’Nal Utharo, was a talented young druid from Sanctuary who had recently traveled the lions’ share of Atalanxia ending up here, in Goodale with his newfound wolf companion Besali. For nearly two weeks the pair had explored the large forest, practicing their stalking skills and enjoying what time they could outside before autumn came, forcing them to find shelter and supplies for the coming winter. The druid knew that summer was fast drawing to an end; as it was a short season this far north. While they ran through the trees this morning a thick white fog hugged the ground, a testament to large temperature differences from night to day which were already moving across the land.

The elf was not quite sure what Besali had caught scent of but he knew it must be something new judging by the eagerness in the wolves’ strides. Without warning Besali stopped. Cor’Nal, following so close behind him nearly ran over the animal before coming to a halt. Besalis’ hackles stood on end, his body was rigid and his brown eyes were fixed on something just ahead of them. Taking a moment to catch his breath Cor’Nal dropped a calming hand to the shoulder of his companion while scanning the forest ahead of them. Inside the predominantly pine forest it was not difficult to see past the bare trunks and sparse undergrowth and spot the source of their morning “hunt”. A slim figure lay up against one particularly large tree next to the grey ashes of a small campfire. Judging by the slight build and diminutive stature of the figure, the druid thought that it might be a woman or a very young human man lying beneath that black cloak.

Wanting to get a better look, Cor’Nal started forward while motioning for Besali to stay put. As he approached the form something caught him off guard, something the elf never expected to see this far north. A pointed ear protruded from the black cloak, the ear of a Cala'Quessir! Forgetting only for an instant about his surroundings, Cor’Nal took another step closer to the sleeping figure. His foot came down on an upturned twig accompanied by the sharp snap of breaking wood. Instinctively Cor’Nals’ hand went to his sheathed scimitar. His instinct served him well that morning. Within the blink of an elven eye the once prone figure sprang to life. The black cloaked elf was now on his feet and a long sword came across at Cor’Nal in a sweeping horizontal strike. Steel rang out on steel, a pure harmonic note sang out in the deep forest breaking the calm silence of the morning. Both elves found themselves staring at each other in bewilderment. Several tense moments passed before Cor’Nal spoke.

“ Well met friend.”

The tension between the elves evaporated quickly with those simple words and the cloaked elf retracted his blade. Both parties assumed non-threatening stances yet their blades remained naked as they continued to measure each other. This elf Cor’Nal noted had seen his share of hardship, bearing horrible scars on his hands and half of his face, now visible after his cowl fell away during the strike. It was the elfs’ eyes that held Cor’Nals’ attention though, something familiar about those bright green eyes which were even now darting about, making note of every detail about him, eyes which grew larger after taking note of the wolf watching intently from a distance at Cor’Nals’ back.

Seeing that no conversation was forthcoming from the cloaked stranger Cor’Nal attempted discover what he was about.

“An elf is an unusual sight this far north, especially with autumn fast approaching.” He began.

“Yes, that is unusual.” The stranger said in a measured tone, his eyes flicked back to hold Cor’Nal in a hard stare.

“Fear not my elven brother.” The druid replied, taking the initiative to sheath his weapon. “I bear you no ill will. I am just as surprised as you at this unexpected meeting.”

The black cloaked elf responded in turn, sheathing his sword although his eyes continued to watch both Cor’Nal and Besali warily, apparently ill-at-ease with the situation.

Moving slowly, the druid took a cautious step forward, moving almost as if trying not to spook the stranger before him, and extended his right hand in greeting.

“My name is Cor’Nal Utharo. I am the son of Legawyn and Nydia Utharo of Kemmermere.”

The cloaked elf stepped forward also, taking Cor’Nals’ forearm in acknowledgement yet, those green eyes remained on the wolf.

Recognizing that Besali would continue to be a distraction, the druid gave a shrill series of whistles not once looking back at him. Without a sound, the wolf stood and loped off into the forest, back the way he had come. Picking right up where his introduction had ended Cor’Nal continued. “And that, is my companion Besali.”

The elf opposite Cor’Nal relaxed at the exit of the large canine, his emerald eyes flashed back to the druid. “Pardon my manners.” The stranger spoke in smooth, practiced elven seemingly genuinely humbled by his lack of proper protocol. “I have long been on the road and in the wild. It makes one somewhat, suspicious of others. My name is Ademar.” After a slight hesitation he continued. “Ademar Nightwalker, also of Kemmermere.”

That name brought light to Cor’Nals’ memory; he remembered now meeting Ademar while delivering a message to the Helyanwë family many years ago. What had happened to the young Ademar to cause him to take up an alias? From what the druid could remember the Helyanwë family was a well-to-do merchant clan why would he stray so far from the comforts of Kemmermere? Deciding that Ademar must have a valid reason to abandon his family name, Cor’Nal chose to feign ignorance of his kin but he was interested in how he came to be in Goodale and hoped that Ademar had news of Kemmermere.

“So, what brings you to the wilderness of Eldridge my friend? And, what news of Tel’HithTal?”

Ademar thought about the questions for a moment, seeming to be carefully constructing his answers before responding.

“My family thought it would be advantageous for me to travel the world for a while. They are trying to gain knowledge of the goings-on beyond our borders. We are hoping to open up more trade across Atalanxia. I have been throughout Westheath, The Dodanna Freelands and Nargosath, before coming here. In the spring I will be returning to Caercaster to report my findings.”

Cor’Nal nodded throughout Ademars’ explanation seemingly believing the entire thing though he secretly wondered why he would return to Caercaster, a city of humans rather than the forest of Kemmermere.

“As for The City,” the rogue continued, “They were still rebuilding when I left nearly two years past. Regulus Silverfire is determined to have every detail within the citadel perfect which has made things difficult for the craftsmen to say the least.” Happy with the direction the conversation was turning, Ademar asked a question of his own. “If you ask news of Kemmermere you must have been away for quite some time yourself. What of your journey Cor’Nal Utharo?”

Happy to be having a conversation with another elf, the druid happily told Ademar of his journey which had taken him all about the continent over the past two decades and how he had ended up in Goodale looking for adventure. The conversation lasted long into the day, stretching on to dusk.

Knowing that winter was fast approaching, Cor’Nal suggested that Ademar stay in Goodale and continue his travels in the spring. Beginning to tire of traveling, Ademar readily agreed with the druids’ suggestion but decided that he would prefer the comfort of a bed in an inn to the hard ground of the forest floor. Reluctant to leave the wild but unwilling to let go of this newfound link to his homeland, Cor’Nal relented to this request. Throughout the fall and all through the winter both elves worked for Iwan Welsher, a fourth generation brewer of his families’ famous Welsher’s White ale. Using the silver they earned from Iwan the pair waited out the winter trading stories of their homeland in the warm shelter of The Wizards’ Charm inn.