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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Pedestrian" data-source="post: 3677974" data-attributes="member: 40208">Xerxes patted Sol on the shoulder as the half-Orc rose to his feet, grunting thanks at Kayan and wiping bloody muck from his face. Xerxes dug around in the murk to retrieve Sol’s axe, which he returned to his friend. There were still some nasty wounds on the warrior, gashes and welts, but at least the rent in his stomach was gone. “Let’s have a look about” suggested the southerner, and Sol nodded his assent.They trudged up the hill, which Xerxes thought might make a decent camp if only they could get the bird corpse down from it, but Sol veered off to one of the trees, and begin digging in the muck around the roots. “Saw somethin’” he grunted over his shoulder. He paused, reached into the pit he had hollowed out and, with a deep grunt, wrenched a rusted iron chest, scarred and pitted by acid, and set it down on the ground at his feet.Xerxes hurried over to get a closer look. Sol tried the lid and, finding it unlocked, flicked it open, revealing a finely made sword, one of the lighter style of blades popular in Embre, a silver circlet set with a small diamond, a thick hematite ring and a milky white pearl. Testing the usefulness of the items, Kayan took the pearl and the diadem, and Sol the ring. Xerxes picked up the thin blade. It was well made, light in the hand, deadly sharp, but he felt mildly foolish. His only awareness of swords was that you tried to stab the enemy with them.He was just about to fasten the sword to his belt when he heard a light thump. Unnoticed in the deepening twilight, and completely silent, five giant owls had descended from the sky, landing in a circle about them. From their backs sprang a group of elf warriors, dressed in hunting leathers and cloaks which seemed to gather the colours of the swamp into themselves. One of them, probably their leader, said something to the other four. Xerxes knew Kayan understood elf speech, but there was no time to confer. Two of them headed back into the fen, the other two moving up the hillock to examine the fallen owl.“You. What brings you to the Blackfens?” The leader’s speech was heavily accented, and Xerxes took a moment before he understood. The elf man was tall, muscular and his face was covered in swirling tattoos. He hardly matched the refined image that was recorded in the libraries of his homeland.“We are searching for goblins in the fens” Xerxes spoke loudly and slowly. He didn’t wish to seem rude, but equally he didn’t want to be misunderstood. Both outcomes would possibly result in their being killed and eaten by the massive birds that now circled overhead. “A horde calling itself the Red Hand is attacking Elsir Vale, and we think they are looking for something here in the fens. At the ruined city.”“Have you encountered one of my people in the Fen? A young boy, though to you he would look a man. He would answer to the name of Lanikar.”“Sorry, we’ve only encountered the reptile that attacked us.”The elf seemed to accept this, as he nodded and strode past the three of them. Xerxes relaxed slightly, and motioned for Kayan and Sol to come to him. “So, what do we make of this?”“I reckon we could take the elfs, but the birdies’d get us” grunted Sol. Xerxes grinned, but shook his head.“I admit, I find this a little confusing” Kayan glanced over his shoulder, speaking in hushed tones “Elves this far north? The only elves that live on the mainland are Embrean, and they… well, they are a little more sophisticated. They are not Breogan, obviously, nor Bereg” he paused to think, Xerxes nodding along they he understood very little “In fact, from the markings I would say they are Cale Elves, but that’s ridicu-““Humans.” The elf captain interrupted them. He had stood some distance away, but if the tales of elf senses were true, then it was likely he had heard the entire exchange. The two elves who had set off into the swamp had returned and they, along with their fellows, hung back, standing about the trees. “My name is Killiar, “Arrowswift” in your language. My people would thank you for ridding the fen of the Harrowblade, and welcome you to our village. I am certain our elders would wish to speak with you.” Though it was phrased as a request, the elf’s pose communicated clearly that he would not take no for an answer. Ignoring a twinge of ever-more familiar paranoia, Xerxes agreed.Each of the three was guided to an owl, and they set off. Xerxes was sat behind Killiar, who would quietly point out some landmark in the swamp as they rode. Xerxes paid scant attention, as he had drawn out the Book of All Hours from his pack. Much like Kayan, he had never before encountered a “Harrowblade”. Flicking through the magical tome, he came across an illustration of the beast. As he read, the entry grew more detailed, completed before his eyes. This chilled him. The Book had never behaved like this before. The knowledge it contained before had been readily available, any lack had been his fault for not searching correctly. But more chilling, one word, inked in letters that writhed against the limitation of such small form:Tiamat.</blockquote>

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