The Rune Stone

Ewrorin

The rest of the journey to Ewrorin lasted for another three days and was relatively uneventful. Varonno had taken great care the following days and nights to make sure nothing would sneak up on them. He took less beaten paths to make camps at, much to the disapproval of the elf traders who were already in a bad mood due to the fact that they had lost two people in the bandit ambush and wished for nothing more than to make it home. The ranger kept mostly to himself as well, staying away from the fire and always looking out for the smallest sound, be it owl or snapped twig.

The capital-city of Ewrorin was located on the west side of the continent deep inside the Windsong forest, a place of ancient and forgotten magic. The party was quick to sense this as-well, even those not magic attunned could feel something within the woods, morning-dew entering their noses or fresh spring-water washing upon their faces, despite the lack of both in the area. Another, less pleasant, feeling was that of being constantly watched:

"I don't like this place, gives me the creeps... You can't even see the sun from here and we're barely a few miles in." commented Nicholas, who was not back on his horse with not even a hint of pain on his face. Kralich's magic sure worked, what-ever it was.                           

"You'd best keep your hands where they can see them, and don't let them hear you speak ill of their forest."  Said Varonno as his first words since the ambush. "Huh ?! So there is someone watching. It's the elves ain't it ? Bloody perverts, like watching from the shadows." the rogue added with indignation. "The elves do not own the forests, the trees do, and they will come alive to defended if the need arises."  continued the ranger before moving forwards to the rest of the caravan, much to Nicholas' surprise who stopped to pat the particularly massive trunk of an oak on the side of the road. "Haha... Nice little murder-trees... Don't kill ol' uncle Nick now. I didn't mean none of that. Lovely forest you have, my mom used to ---" he'd say before being cut of by the loud creaking and rumbling of wood and leaves. Sound that prompted Nick to take his hand off and spur his horse forwards in an expeditious manner with nothing but a gilrly yelp to announce his departure.

After a few more hours of uneasy travel, the group finally made it. Ewrorin. And what a sight it was, a massive, hundreds of feet tall tree crowned the middle of the glade it was situated in, encompasing the entire city under its leaves. Here the light of the sun shone once again between the branches and unto the roof-tops of the many elven tree-mansions. They were elegant buildings, made of fine, painted wood which seemed to float, almost, around the many, smaller trees they were constructed around. Now, the oppresing feeling of the forest was gone, replaced by pure awe and wonder...

Kralich broke off the silence by instructing the party that they should, under no circumstance, roam around the city as the elves were not exactly the friendly type to strangers. He directed the group a tavern, not nearly as elegant as the tree-hours, not too far from the city entrance, situated on the side of the road. "This should do us well, one of the few places around not owned by the elves. We shall spend the night here and in the morning I will go speak with th elder, find out what I can." said the mage. "What do ya mean ? Why we ain't coming you ya ?" muttered Torstein. "Because. As I stated before, the elves are not fond of outsiders. It will take some conving to grant myself an audience and I am an official member of the College. An organization they respect. You lot on the other hand, will see as nothing more than unwashed rable here to steal their treasures or spoil their forests." Kralich would state in a rather scolding tone. The barbarian would mutter something more under his breath before steering his horse towards the tavern. Kralich in turn went to discuss something more with the elven caravan that lead them where while Nicholas and Varonno went ahead and started to unpack their equipment and stable their horses.

As it was now getting fully dark outside, the tavern was full to the brim with people. Dwarves, gnomes, half-orcs and many others could be found inside either drinking, eating, gambling on dancing to the merry tunes that probably had started playing long before the group even got here. The owner, a burly man in his fifty's greeted the three, inving them in... that was, before he caught glimpse of Shadow. "Oi ! Get that mutt out of here ! No animals inside !" he'd yell from over the counter and music to make himself heard. What followed was a back-and-forth that must have lasted for well over twenty minutes between the ranger and the tavern-keep with Nicholas in the middle trying to calm the two. All the while Torstein had made himself comfortable with a group of dwarves, sharing in their drink and stories. This argument was only broken when Kralich finally came inside himself and took Varonno to the side, trying to remind him of the bigger goal ahead, of him getting back home.

With great reluctance, and a death-threat thrown towards the owner, Varonno agreed to take his wolf in the stables. "I'm sorry friend. But I promise... It's all to get us back home. To set things right... It has been too long already." he'd say in a soft voice,once outside, towards Shadow who listened as if he could understand what the ranger was telling him to the letter and as such, allowed himself to be sent to the stable without much fuss. The wolf then licked his master's hand. Varonno smiled, probably for the first time in a long while, if it was at the prospect of getting home or at his loyal friend who had been at his side for so many years, he could not say...

Inside, Kralich had secured himself and the rest rooms and food for the night. After which he bid good-night to his companions in a quick and dry fashion before heading up to his room and locking himself in. It was all rather strange thought the three but they gave it no further thought as ale and proper food started to pour in after a week of rough travel and meager rations.

The singing, dancing, drinking and eating went well into the night as the mage seems to have agreed to pay their tabs for the night as the bar-keep so graciously informed them. And while Varonno kept some-what reserved, only sipping a few tankards off to the side, Nicholas and Torstein made full use of this kindness feasting both themselves and the ones who merried their table. Eventually, after the spirits died down and the rogue and barbarian went to sleep, Varonno who made sure they wouldn't get into trouble headed up himself. As he passed the mage's chambers, despite the fact that he must have gone too bed hours ago, he could hear low chanting, almost like a rumble, a low gutural sound in a foul-sounding language. When the ranger stepped closer to press his ear to the door, the chant abuptly stopped and footsteps could be heard making their way towards the door. Varonno quickly dodged around the corner holding his breath as the door opened, he dared not to look towards it and only allowed himself to exhale once he heard the key of the door click it shut once more. The ranger did not get much sleep that night. as foul dreams plagued his mind...