The Puddle Jumper arrived in the port of Ridgeton just before dusk on the third day of their journey. Magnus had overcome his sickness, however, he was still weary and longed for a full meal and solid ground. Magnus and Kel’dhos, whom he learned was half elf and half human, had spent most of the journey together. Kel’dhos had divulged to Magnus that he was attempting to find his father and that he heard that he was last seen near Ridgeton.
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Funny that while his companion was desperately trying to find his father, Magnus was frantically avoiding his own. Kel’dhos agreed to accompany Magnus for the night and Magnus was glad for it. He may need to lean on his new friend to help him through what awaited him here in Ridgeton.
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Ridgeton was considerably smaller than Eldrin City, but noticeably larger than any town in the Bronze Hills where Magnus spent the first 30 years of his life. The portion of the city by the docks was a long row of mostly wooden buildings that generally seemed in good shape. It looked to be mostly markets, fisheries and factories. Several lamp posts dotted the long street, and the lamp lighters were just beginning their work. A larger portion of the town was located on the top of a bluff overlooking the docks. The majority of these buildings also appeared to be wooden, with a few gray stone structures randomly mixed in. A large wooden wall, that looked to be only half completed, was being built to surround the elevated half of the town.
The duo spoke to a town guard and were told where to find the Crow’s Nest Tavern, the agreed upon location where Magnus would confront his destiny. As they made their way through Ridgeton it struck Magnus how little he had truly seen of the world. To the dwarves in the Bronze Hills, he would have been considered well-traveled. But that was only because any dwarf that left the Bronze Hills was considered well-traveled. Magnus had only ever been to Eridan City, where he met travelers, adventurers and thinkers from all over. But much of his time over his last ten years in that city had been devoted to studying at the Academy. Magnus suddenly realized that he really knew nothing, aside from what he had read, about how the world worked. It was because of this that his master, Thefolocious, had advised him to leave the walls of Eldrin City.
“Your knowledge of the Arcane and the theoretical is astounding. However, your application of this knowledge is severely lacking.” It was a polite way of telling Magnus that he was a great student, but a shit wizard. The Mages Guild would never accept a wizard of such little renowned and practical skill, no matter how high his test scores had been.
After a short walk Kel’dhos and Magnus arrived and stood outside The Crow’s Nest. Magnus paused, staring at the door. The tavern was three short stories high and twice the width of the buildings on either side. There were few windows, and the entire place looked as if it was held up by a spell and one of Kel’dhos’ prayers.
Magnus took a deep breath and flattened out a portion of his royal blue robes. He ran his hands through his jet-black hair that he had placed into a single long braid, which ran halfway down his back. He lifted his head high and narrowed his eyes towards the door. Inside would be the first true test that he would face.
“...Are we going in?” Kel’dhos asked, shocking Magnus out of thought.
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Without another word Magnus pushed open the door. Light, smoke and the odor of long spilled ale escaped the musty tavern as Magnus and Kel’dhos walked into the Crow’s Nest. The sights and smells immediately brought back memories of Magnus’ upbringing. All that was missing was a fistfight, which, given the appearance of the place, was sure to happen soon.
Magnus took a few steps in and scanned the room. The tavern was full of people, many of whom looked like dockworkers and laborers. At one table he noticed two elves, one wearing all black and the other barely wearing anything at all. But the individual Magnus was seeking was nowhere in sight.
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Kel’dhos began whispering in a low voice, “Who exactly are we meeting he-“
“BROTHER!!!” A booming voice shouted from Magnus’ side as he felt an arm wrap around the back of his neck and pull him to the side. “Hammers and stones you’ve gotten skinny. Years of reading books and making sparks jump has softened you too much!”
Magnar, Magnus’ older brother, stood with a giant war hammer slung over his shoulder as he upended a pint and threw the mug to the ground. “It’s good to see you Magnar, it has been too long”
It had been fifteen years since Magnar had left the Bronze Hills to join the Rising Suns, a group of mercenaries that operated throughout the Tameless Shore. Their father’s anger at Magnar’s decision to join the mercenaries was eclipsed only by his ire at Magnus’ own choices.
“Drop the fancy city talk and grab a pint. It is a bad day for ale, for Magnar and Magnus are reunited!” Magnar wrapped his arm around Magnus’ shoulders and began leading them to a table at the far end of the bar.
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Magnar suddenly stopped, turning around, Magnus could see his brother’s grip tightening on his war hammer. “Can we help you small ears?” Magnar asked Kel’dhos, who had been following closely behind. Kel’dhos took a half step back and looked at Magnus, who was stumbling to find his words. “Oh, brother this is my companion Kel’dhos, Cleric of Sioch.”
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“Pleased to meet you, sir. If you would allow me to sit with you, I should like to buy us all a round of ales,” Kel’dhos said shyly.
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Magnar glared at Kel’dhos before smiling wide “Any bearing the gift of beer and ale is kin to me for the night, come cleric and drink with us.”
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When they reached Magnar’s table, the barbarian tossed his war hammer onto the top of it. Magnus believed the hammer may have had a weightless charm placed upon it, judging by how effortlessly his brother wielded it. It landed with a loud crash and the table creaked under its massive weight. Magnar sat down and upended another pint that had been waiting for him. His red and blonde hair, which he inherited from their mother, was twisted into several long braids that hung nearly to his waist. His beard was long and unkempt, with some portions matted down and others soaking in spilt liquor. Magnar wore only dark green pants and a pair of leather suspenders. His muscles were bulging and the scars that marked his bare chest and back told a hundred stories of pain and glory. Magnus and Kel’dhos sat as the barmaid brought five ales. Magnar took two of them.
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“So your little teacher tells you to go explorin’ a bit and you think ol’ Magnar can show you a thing or two, is that it?”
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“Well, if there’s anyone who could get me into some sort of trouble, that may take a little magic to get out of, I could think of nobody better than you.” Magnus had only exchanged a few letters with his brother over the last 15 years. But, Magnar actually had become well traveled. Plus he had recently left the Rising Suns and would be free to join Magnus. Having Magnar’s warhammer might come in handy as well.
Magnar let out a thunderous belch and slammed his fist on the table. “I’m sure I can find us something to do Sparky, but I don’t think small ears is the gettin’-into-trouble type.” Magnus glanced at Kel’dhos who was still slowly sipping on his first ale. A large plate of bread, cheese and smoked fish, as well as several more pints of ale, arrived moments later.
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Magnus had not had ale in quite some time. In fact, he had convinced himself he didn’t even enjoy it anymore. Drinking was a common past time for scholars and mages alike. Many a breakthrough in the world of scholarship was said to have been discovered in the bottoms of empty glasses. However, deep red wines were usually the lubricants of choice to get those wheels of philosophy moving. But being around Magnar again and hearing his brother laugh and tell tales, that made the ale sweeter than the finest wines he’d ever had.
Magnar and Magnus quickly devoured the platter of food and ordered another. Magnus attempted to keep pace with his brother’s drinking, but the task proved impossible. He truly had become a professional drinker, even by dwarven standards. Kel’dhos ordered wine after finishing the ale he had bought for the table and mostly listened to the two drunken dwarves as the spoke of lost loves and broken bones.
Just as Magnar was beginning to sing, a sure sign that he was slipping deeply into intoxication, a shadow was cast by two figures standing behind the table. “Excuse me, but may we have a word with you?”
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Magnus turned around to see the two elves he had noticed when he’d first walked in. The one speaking had slicked back hair that was a deep red, almost mahogany. Magnus could see a leather jerkin sticking out beneath his black cloak. The female elf, who was staring at the fire and didn’t appear to notice her companion was speaking to anyone, was now much more covered up wearing a dark green cloak.
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Magnus gestured for the elves to sit across from them and they quickly sat . The one all in black got the attention of the bar maid and quickly ordered more pints. “I am Telerek and this is my cousin Valeriek, but most call her ‘Val,’” the dark haired elf said.
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Magnus introduced his brother and Kel’dhos before asking, “What is it that you needed to have words about exactly?”
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“Well, you three look like the kind of people who can solve problems and handle yourselves,” Telerek said.
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“Not only can I handle myself elf, I can handle three of the finest courtesans at the same time” Magnar replied. “But if you’re looking for someone to do your dirty work, you can look somewhere else, we aren’t interested.” Magnus was surprised by how lucid his brother suddenly seemed.
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“Oh, no we aren’t those types, I can assure you of that. We are looking for legitimate business partners,” Telerek said as he took his pint of ale from the arriving bar maid.
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“Well, we aren’t the legitimate type either. We like to ride the line between legitimate and illicit. We appreciate the drinks, but I think you’ve misjudged us,” Magnar said while looking Telerek in the eyes.
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Magnus felt like this was the kind of conversation to let his brother, even in his current state, lead. Magnar had far more experience with these types of propositions and affairs.
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“Look, I believe it is you who has misjudged us. Would you at least allow me to explain?” Telerek quickly responded. Magnar gave an affirmative nod as he started packing tobacco into his pipe. Magnus looked at the female elf, the one supposedly called Val and saw that she had finished her drink and appeared to be inspecting the mug, completely oblivious to the conversation happening in front of her.
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“My uncle, Varlok, owns the largest logging company in the Tameless Shore and is based here in Ridgeton. The city has recently commissioned the building of a wall around the city and as I’m sure you noticed, it currently stands incomplete.” Telerek took a large drink and then continued, as he realized Magnar was not interrupting him.
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“Well recently three of the loggers went missing while out working for the day. My uncle has asked me to find some, let’s say discreet, adventurers to track down these missing loggers. You know, the type that ride the line between legitimate and illicit,” Telerek said with a smile.
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Magnar lit his pipe and crossed his arms as he sat back. “Three missing loggers, I don’t understand what the big deal is. Maybe they just decided loggin’ wasn’t for them?”
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“Apparently that is not thought to be the case. The other crews have refused to work until it is discovered what happened to their colleagues. My uncle is facing a total labor strike and potentially losing the contract with the city. He is willing to pay any who would be able to help.”
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“You are asking for aid from Kel’dhos, legendary Cleric of Sioch,” Magnar responded while gesturing towards Kel’dhos who became wide eyed and looked about to speak. Magnar, however, gave him no time and continued, “as well as the avowed wizard of Eldrin City, Magnus. Their aid does not come cheap. As for me, I’m just their muscle. I come cheaper but need a little more convincing.”
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“My uncle is willing to pay 50 gold pieces a day to whoever is able to track down the missing loggers.”
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Magnar took a long drag from his pipe and blew the smoke directly into the face of Telerek. “Consider me convinced!” Magnar roared before laughing loud enough that the entire tavern turned and looked at their table. “Let us toast to our newfound fellowship! Let us drink and be merry, all out of one glass.”
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Everyone raised their mugs to the middle except for Val, who suddenly stopped inspecting her empty mug and asked, “What are we toasting to?”
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Magnar worked out the rest of the details with Telerek and the two elves departed shortly after. Kel’dhos retired to his room for the night after having one last drink with the brothers. Magnar continued ordering mugs of ale and everything became a slow blur into darkness for Magnus.
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He awoke the next morning to Magnar sitting on the edge of his bed. “Ah, brother, about time you’re awake. It is almost time to meet our new elf friends, though I can’t find that small eared one you brought along.”
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Magnus sat up in bed, his vision still slightly blurred from his overindulgence the night before. Magnar turned towards his brother and pushed a sausage into his face. “Here, eat this and let us leave this place.”
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Magnus’ stomach burned with an arcane fury that he released immediately into his bed pan.
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End of Chapter One
Magnus dug his nails into the wooden railing as his stomach burned with an arcane fury begging to be unleashed. He opened his mouth and released the chaos of his morning meal over the port side of The Puddle Jumper. He had been assured that the journey from Eldrin City to Ridgeton was quicker and more relaxing if taken by sea, albeit more expensive. The sickness caused by the endless rocking of the boat had not been mentioned as part of the price.
Magnus slumped down and leaned against the railing, letting the salty sea wind blow across his sweating brow. He had no more half-digested offerings left to give to the fish. Magnus looked out across the small top deck of the ship and saw what he first thought was an elf, though his ears were much smaller than any elf he’d ever met. The small eared elf was peering off the front of the vessel and looked to be muttering to himself and touching his chest. Was he….praying?
As if sensing Magnus staring, the elf turned and looked directly at him. It was in that moment that Magnus realized he had met this elf before. In the libraries of the Academy Arcana, in Eldrin City. Magnus stood up shakily and walked over to the elf, hoping conversation might distract him from the churning in his stomach.
“Greetings! I wasn’t meaning to stare, it’s just that I believe we have met before. A few years back we were both attempting to find The History of Necromancy in the Tameless Shore 610-675.” Magnus had always been able to remember small details, it was in part what made him such a strong student at the Academy. The elf suddenly looked at Magnus, as if seeing him for the first time and studied him for a moment.
“Oh. Oh yes, I believe I do recall that. You must be that dwarf wizard that caused such an uproar with your admittance.”
“The uproar caused by my arrival at the Academy was a whisper compared to the one by my father at my departure.” Magnus said this with a chuckle. The elf stared at him for a few moments and then gave a halfhearted smile, as if he didn’t understand that what Magnus had said was meant to be joke.
“Well, you look about as sick as I feel, first time traveling by sea?” Magnus said after a short pause.
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“Oh, um no. No, I’ve traveled on ships plenty. I’m just lost in thought I’m afraid.”
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“Ah, a state I am well-traveled in. Allow me to accompany you on this journey through our thoughts and let us speak of them together and perhaps find our way.”
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With that, the once tense shoulders of the elf seemed to relax, and he gave a slightly broader smile. “I am called Kel’dhos, Cleric of Sioch”
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“Excellent! Magnus is my name. Tell me Kel’dhos, Cleric of Sioch, can you heal me from this accursed sea sickness?”
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