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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4418628" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 9“I think we’ve moved a bit too far to the east,” Jaron said, pointing to the map that Elevaren held out for him.  The eladrin had knelt to come down to the halfling level, careless of the dirt and crushed weeds underfoot.  Jaron suspected that the warlock’s robe would be as spotless when he rose as before; the dirt of the trail seemed to avoid him.  Likewise, the eladrin seemed utterly unfazed by their long trek, which was now almost four hours old. Jaron took out a rag and wiped his face and neck.  No such luck for him; the rag was streaked with sweat and dust.  They were in a copse of trees which offered shade from the afternoon sun.  It wasn’t really hot, not with winter so close, but they’d spent the last hour navigating rows of low, scraggly hills, with little in the way of tree cover to shelter them from the sun high above.  It would have been a pleasant hike, had they not been in hostile country, and had they not been burdened with the weight of armor and weapons.  Jaron felt a tinge of guilt as he looked across the copse at Mara.  His leathers might be sweat-soaked, but the human woman wore what had to be thirty or forty pounds of metal on her body.  She was in good shape, that much was obvious, but she drank deeply of her waterskin, and Jaron could see that she was a little winded. Beetle had consumed his lunch in the first twenty seconds of their rest break, and was now chasing a butterfly around the copse. Jaron handed the map back to Elevaren and walked over to Mara.  “I’ve known a few rangers who used the two-swords style,” he said.  “Had you always wanted to train to be a soldier?”Mara stoppered her waterskin and wiped her mouth.  “We head out again in two minutes.  Tell your cousin.”  She walked across the clearing, past Jaron, who opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say.  She went a bit deeper into the copse, clearly looking for a little privacy. “She doesn’t like to talk about her past,” Elevaren said quietly from behind him.  “I didn’t mean to pry.”“It was an innocent question,” the eladrin said.  “Our fighter is... complicated.”“And you, Elevaren?  I have to admit, I mistook you for an elf, at first.”“It is a common mistake.  My people dwell with the Feywild, and are rare in the lands of mortal men.”Jaron’s face betrayed his surprise.  “You are immortal?”Elevaren shook his head.  “A turn of phrase.  No, we eladrin live, and die, much as you do.  In the Feywild... it is just... different.”“What are you doing here, then?”Something subtle changed in the warlock’s face, and he turned aside.  “I wish I had an easy answer.  Have you ever been drawn to something that you didn’t fully understand, only to find yourself caught up in events beyond your control?”“Yeah, I suppose I have.”“Ah, Mara is returning.  Perhaps you had best gather in your cousin.”Jaron nodded, thinking that Elevaren had evaded his question almost as thoroughly as Mara had.  The halfling’s doubts returned, and he hoped that his new companions would prove trustworthy, when it came time for the test that he now believed was inevitable.</blockquote>

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