Private Tales To war, we must idle

[Neremyn Virvyre]

Ere shook his head, running his sharpened nails through his salt and pepper beard. "Only caught his scent down on the stretch after being confronted by his pack. Once we got them to run off, we ran for it and they chased. Only then were we able to get a decent look at him through the blizzard."
"Stranger." The knight-errant stopped in his tracks, lifting a gauntlet to stop the elf from proceeding further. "What do you mean you...caught his scent?"

Ere lifted a nail to his nose. "I have a good deal better sense of smell than the common man."
"Is that a trait of your kind? Of elves?"
"No." He replied curtly.
"Very well. I shall not press further. Now tell me, what did you make of him? And why were you down in the stretch." They began to walk once more.

"He's big. Much bigger than what I'm used to seeing for lycans."
"Our reports mirror as such."
"And we were looking for a thistle for herbal remedy. I have a bit of knowledge on the subject and suggested visiting the ravine to find it. It worked but, as you have seen, we nearly fell upon misfortune."
"Nearly is right, sir." The knight stated as they rounded a corner. Ere was getting the impression they were going somewhere. "I must assume that by your valiant nature that the one you visited the stretch with has not come upon misfortune."
"You assume correct." Ere was starting to bristle, the questions were moving far beyond his care.
"Very good. Well we must speak to the commander immediately. And then we will decided what to do from there."
"Wait..." Ere paused. "You aren't the commander?"
"No, sir. I am a merchant knight of the Allirian Keep."
"But your insignia includes the Spur."
"Yes." The man continued forward. "This is my home. But I am a knight-errant. My valor knows no geographical bounds."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Eislyn was squashed into a two-man command room at the corner of the wall with the lad who’d lead her up and the commander himself. The commander had a shock of white hair and was missing the upper half of one of his ears. Her ears picked up a familiar voice approach and a not-so-familiar one but her attention remained on the commander.

“Princess. I’m not worried so much about the lycan and his army of wolves. I’m worried about being caught between the duke and the surrounding uprising. I believe we can hold the wall against the beasts. But after that...”

“Leave that to me. I was sent here to negotiate with the Duke. You won’t have to worry about your concerns if we don’t survive the night.”

The commander stroked his white beard thoughtfully, dark-gaze snapping up to the entrance as Ere and the knight filled the doorway of the already crowded room. “It seems we’re getting all sorts of guests tonight.” His eyes were on Ere.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

The room was rather small, lit by a candle on the desk that separated the commander from those he entertained and a candle mounted against the stone wall behind him. The wall-mounted candle gave life to a tapestry that hung behind him, detailing a scenic interpretation of the Spur. A road leading up through a hill, partitioning a wild forest, that gave breath to a hold on the hill. Atop it, the sun shined down on a Castellan who held a gleaming sun skyward.

"A guest?" Ere murmured as the entered. "That is kind of you."
The knight-errant stood at attention. "Commander, this is..." The knight stopped, realizing he didn't actually know the mans name.
"Neremyn Virvyre. Though I prefer Ere."
"Of the Virvyre Clan of Fal'Addas?" The knight looked back and Ere could see the cogs moving.
"Impertinent." Ere responded with a neutral expression.
"I agree." The commander interrupted as the knight-errant nodded, turning back to commander at attention. "More importantly, I don't see this lycan issue as a concern."
"With all due respect, Commander..." Ere approached, stepping past the knight errant and pressing a sharp nail into the map on the Commanders desk. "I agree with the princess. The wolves spoke of an amassing. If they were keen to bismirch tradition and ask for congregation of Lythari with Lycanthrope, it means this werewolf does not follow standard dogma of alliance."
"What is a lythari? What do you mean the wolves spoke?"
"Impertinent." Ere shook his head and trailed up the indication of the map to a cave.
"I disagree." The Commander butted in.
"We can discuss the details should the sun come up tomorrow. What is important right now is that the lycan has likely formed all manner of alliances. And they are not particularly fond of interpreted disrespect. Such as...losing a prey." He looked over his shoulder to Eislyn, and then turned back to the Commander. "At the very least, we should prepare the garrison for an attack. One of...unconventional means."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Clan of Fal-Addas?

Eislyn shuffled that away for another time.

"What kind of unconventional means are we talking about?" The commander looked between Eislyn and Ere. Eislyn shrugged. She grew up in the most conventional way. Sheltered far from the world, only reading about magic and any races besides humans in books that she and her sister assumed were fairytales. Sheltered until recently.

Tragic events making the until recently possible.

Fingers tapped the iron bangle around her wrist. A nervous gesture. One never quite broken.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

Ere looked over his shoulder just as the princess shrugged. Turning back to the Commander, Ere shrugged and crossed his arms.

"Magical."
"Well, yeah. But how?" The Commander responded, leaning back in his chair.

Ere couldn't count the ways. In over 300 years of life, he had seen many things and dealt with many things. The list went on and on. "Spriggans could destroy the foundations of the castle with roots, Leshy's could summon endless packs of wolves to attack guards or innocent civilians, Ajatars could take the form of fire breathing dragons and cook the entire spur, Kodamas could be compelled to cast curses against the guard leadership, Griffins could lift people strategically from the ramparts and drop them like eggs against the mountains, Dryads could litter the walls with arrows, Amaroks could sneak in through the drainage systems and kill off guards systematically...though they typically hunt alone..."

"Enough." The Commander stopped him in his tracks and sighed. "Half of those things aren't even real."
"Maybe." Ere replied. "Maybe not. Belief tends form creation."
"What...never-mind. I get it." He looked towards the Knight-Errant. "Get the regiment in attention out in the courtyard, we'll form a strategy from now until sunrise."
"At your command." The Knight-Errant responded.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"Thank you commander. I have some men who will be at your disposal." Ever the diplomat. The commander flicked his fingers and nodded, clearly dismissing them. With a sidestep and a scrunch out, she exited the small room, the cold wind hitting her face like a wake-up call.

The young princess turned back to Ere.

Voice was low as the lad scuffled by with new orders to get ready and wake up the few that were posted along the wall.

"Do you think all those things you listed will happen tonight?"

If they did, they very well might have to evacuate the town. "Is this really just about me...us getting away from the ravine?"

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

Now she had men at her disposal as well. He was starting to question why she was intent on running off into the woods by herself in the first place.

"No." He stated as he crossed his arms over pieces of bark and leather armor. "Many of those creatures haven't been seen in many years, even centuries. And they're likely not right for this region. But the only difference between possible and impossible is willpower. And an insulted werewolf can be mighty stubborn."

He stepped closer to the woman, inspecting the golden band around her forehead. One that was conveniently absent or out of view during the original meeting. "No, Princess." He dragged his eyes from the band, matching her verdant gaze with one of his own. "I have insulted him because he considers me less than him. He offered a blessing, I counted it as curse. It is a difficult thing for him to swallow."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"Pride is often the downfall of us all," she mused quietly. She didn't miss the focus of his gaze. "I apologize for the subterfuge. There are some who would take advantage of a princess in need and I wasn't sure which some you were."

She offered a self-deprecating smile.

"I'm a negotiator for this war. An emissary. My retinue and I were traveling to meet the duke and the leaders of the up-risers when we were attacked. I'm traveling with a small group. Two men."

Another subterfuge to the commander, perhaps.

"The moon thistle was for one who was grievously injured. And now it seems we have a bigger problem on our hands. Do you truly think this small army can hold back the lycan and his forces?"

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He held up his hand. "You don't need to apologize, Ms. Eislyn. We all have our secrets."

Thinking over the remainder of her comment, he absorbed the information regarding her profession. Two men, she was a princess and a negotiator, which begged the question of why? Was she here out of some sort of humanitarian calling or was this something she considered a responsibility? Something required of her to eventually ascend to a position above her current rank?

He did not know her well enough to know, either way.

Dropping his hand, he thought for a moment. A thing emphasized by an exhale as his eyes moved away, watching the commander and knight-errant pace back and forth between the assembled regiment.

"I can't know for sure. I am a druid, not a prophet." He wasn't sure she fully understood the difference. "I stand in the stream of fate, not outside of it. You and I, we must flow through it. We will not know the rocks or pools until we get to them." His attention floated back to her. "But I can assure you that when the time comes, I will not be a negotiator. Not tonight."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

She did not know what he meant by druid.

She was painfully aware of her lack of knowledge from her father's hard and xenophobic upbringing. A subtle nod of her chin in the darkness, the flickering light of the torches catching on her moonlit face. "Perhaps tonight we will both not be negotiators."

She took a step to the wall and looked out, casting Ere a sideways glance. If she looked hard enough, she thought she saw multiple dark shapes moving beyond the iceline Ere created during their retreat. "If we survive this, perhaps we can chat more over a pot of tea. My knowledge in the magical is very much limited and I would like to change that. If you are willing?"

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He had no chivalric vows, no requirement towards honesty and truthfulness. In many ways, deception and white lies were far easier for survival than honesty, particularly when friendship and companionship were often passing. But the thought of dishonesty never sat well with him, burdened with scruples that he couldn't define.

It could sometimes make him abrasive.

"I cannot promise to be entirely forward with you, regarding magic...Princess." He turned, placing a hand against the stone balustrade. The truth of magic and all it's wonders, for one beyond the age of childling, required a bit of patience and timing to allow absorption. Otherwise, tales told by the bearded elf might generate nothing more than whimsy and mirth. "But tea sounds lovely."

His verdant gaze followed hers down to the stretch of the icy road. "Gynvael ess'neén voe'rle dhu...the ice will not stop them." He uttered, translating old Elven. "We will surely survive this." He continued, with utmost certainty.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"Let's hope you're right," she responded with a grim press of lips together.

She was worried. She hoped she wouldn't have to use her gift...because the consequences of that would be just as deadly to the princess.

"Lady Gray," a familiar voice called from behind them from a man with black hair sporting thick gray streaks on the sides. "Is this elf bothering you?"

She sighed and turned, casting a silent, apologetic look up to Ere.

"Eric, this is a friend." That word coming from her mouth was a little surprising. They'd known each other for a few hours but she found herself trusting him already. Perhaps it was foolish. Then again, maybe her instincts in this case were right. "Ere, this is Eric. One of the men in my retinue and who will be at your disposal as well as the commander's."

Any displeasure would be well-hidden by Eric as he snapped to attention and gave a small bow in Eislyn's direction. It was clear her men didn't question her orders and respected the young woman.

"Yes m'lady. Look," his attention snapped behind her and over the wall she'd just been looking over. "Dark shapes coming out of the trees." No sooner had he called the whispered warning that an echoed cry sounded from all sides of the walls from the lookouts.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

Ere barely had time to roll his eyes, cross his arms, and face the accuser before Eislyn cut him off at the pass. He gave her a glance that might have suggested gratitude if not, outright surprise. But it was subtle and perhaps likely missed in the low light of the torches and sconces. Friend was not a common word used for his kind, particularly in the company he kept or the people he once knew. Traditional Elven communities, to be exact.

He listened intently to the discussion, diverting his gaze to the general direction pointed out by Eric. It was true. The moonlight was still obscured by the gusts of clouds and the moody gales of a persistent blizzard. But the shadows were there, moving out from the stretch. Some were elongated shapes of carnivores which was not surprising given the knowledge of a pack across the ravine. However, a few were far from it. The shadows were tall and with the angle, originated from humanoids that were clear over ten feet tall.

"Well..." He muttered with a grimace. "You throw enough mold at the wall, something is likely to stick."
"What?" Eric responded, clearly confused.
"Nothing. Please inform the guard..." He felt the thump through the ground as a crashing sound clattered across the Spurdock. The ramparts rumbled, dust fell from the balustrade and towers, and a patrol guard screamed across the parapets.

"A GOOOOLEEEEEM!"
"A what?!?" Eric replied once more. Ere shook his head.
"A Golem as well?" He was incredulous regarding this lycanthrope. "Well I would have made it to that on the list eventually." Pointing a sharp finger towards Eric, he left all formalities behind. "Go to the guard, now! Tell them to light their arrows and aim it on this side." He gestured towards wall where the shadows had appeared. "Towards the Borowik...the Spriggan. I will sort out this Golem."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"Spriggand," Eislyn's verdants widened in fear for the first time that night. Eric nodded to the elf. Fingers brushed against Eislyn's upper arm.

"Your majesty, perhaps it's best if you return to the Inn...," Eislyn's jaw clenched.

"I will not stay if it becomes more unsafe, Eric. Go." Her man nodded and sprinted down the wall to warn the others. The young woman looked to Ere.

"You will handle a golem all on your own?" Fingers twitched at the iron bangle around her wrist. So far it was working - keeping the magic that wanted to come out at bay.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He did not immediately answer. Instead, he watched, almost casually, as Eric sprinted down the wall to inform upon their rough plan of attack. It was rough because Ere simply hadn't had time to weigh his options. They had no way of knowing what had brought the Spriggan or Golem to their doorstep.

For all he knew, the men of the Spur had taken to timber harvesting in areas that were considered sacred. Everyone knew that the only way to truly coax a Spriggan into a fight was to clear the vegetation or scorch the earth around them. And Golems, well they were terribly territorial. The ramparts and walls could have been built from the stone of it's ancestors or the expansion of the hold could have awoken the Golem from a deep deep slumber.

It could all just be the wrong place at the wrong time.

Or the lycanthrope could be manipulating these relics against a common foe. For most of the wild and fantastical, the world was a sheep's coat and humans were the lice that ruined the hide. But it would have taken more than just a some words to spring earth and tree against such an enemy.

"No." He grimaced, rubbing his hands together as he bared his teeth. In the appropriate light, those teeth might have looked odd. Odd and sharp beyond what might be expected of an elf. "I will persuade it to leave." His expression darkened in preemptive mourning of the Spriggan. Fire would dispatch them quickly but they were protectors of the woods. And while it saddened him, such measures, it was clear to him that fire was just as natural as growth.

Turning, he headed down the stairs in Eric's wake. His direction, though, was towards the back gate that rumbled once more. Quaking against the oncoming effort of the Stone Golem.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

And like that Ere was gone. Eislyn was left standing on the walls, refilling arrows for archers. Getting medical supplies ready for the inevitable.

How had it come to this so quickly? The rumbling only intensified. There were scrambling sounds on the walls as the creatures began to break through defenses. Men screamed along the walls as they were pulled downward. The creatures howled in rage and pain from flaming arrows.

She felt a sharp tug on her arm from Eric as a man next to her was snatched from the wall and pulled downward by clawed hands and horns.

“It’s not safe for you anymore. You have to retreat.”

“The nearest town is leagues from here. We’d be running through the woods. What about these people? We can’t leave them.”

And where was Ere? The golem? It was hard to keep track of it all in the growing chaos.

“Then retreat off the wall. Princess go now!” Eric stepped past her, sword out as he caught a snarling wolf in the neck. Eislyn stumbled back.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

The concept of the Golem was a simple one. There was something of value to protect and in turn, a mage, wizard, or God could imbue the very elements to protect that resource. It was a story as old as time. Cultures all across Arethil, from the Forbidden City to the reaches of Eretevja, spoke of Golems. Creatures built of sandstone, blotting out the sun, guarding the riches found deep within the Kahanna Deserts. Monoliths of towering ice, roaming the blistering tundras of the Northern Faarin. The Shekethian Golems of rock and magma were said to trudge the beaches every other year, washing themselves in the salt water and sending plumes of steam as high as the clouds themselves.

Everyone had a story. And whatever truth may had lived within the oral telling of those stories, one undeniable fact was found. No one knew what made a Golem tick. No one understood what drove a Golem, far beyond the expected life of magic, to continue to wander. To encircle its treasure in a trench of repeated steps so deep, a castle could be built at the center and would find eternal protection. It was an enigma.

Ere didn't have these answers. Even as he moved sternly to the back gate, he had but one theory that would be tested in a crucible. It was a rare thing to face a Golem down. And the elf did not relish the opportunity.

"Hold the gate!" He yelled as he stepped close to the threshold. Digging his hills into the mud, he began to step backwards as he carved a trench in the wet soil. Dust flung from the wrought iron railings, the iron rivets threatened to bounce free from the wood. The Golem wasn't being particularly polite in his approach but, alternatively, he hadn't quite erupted with his full power. Ere had time.

A ting was heard as one of the arches loosed an arrow towards the beast, sending it ricocheting skyward. Ere moved again, cutting another trench across the mud. This time, it was at angle to the first. Guards who were stationed on the ramparts watched with utter uncertainty, seemingly stupefied by the act, as the elf continued to muck about in the soil. "When I say so!" The Elf yelled. "Snap the hoists and let the Golem in. We'll have only one shot at this."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

“Did he just say let IT in?” One of the soldiers at the ramparts blinked and looked down.

The other soldier was chewing up a piece of straw.

“H’yup. Yup he did.”

“Must be mad,” the man murmured.

The other shrugged. “Boss said to listen to it.”

“You mean him?”

“Yeah, yeah,” straw shifted to the other corner of his mouth, hand going down to adjust his crotch.

“Shoulda gone in the navy,” the soldier took up the gates, waiting for that right moment.

“Hell.”

“Eh,” strawman shrugged.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

Ere narrowed his elven gaze, already equipped with sharp and aquiline features, as he judged these men quietly. Sitting upon the precipice of likely one of the more dangerous moments of their invariably dim witted and uneventful lives, they shirked off the gravity of the situation with small talk and skepticism. Ere, in turn, was fairly skeptical that when the command was given, the gates would actually open.

His skepticism was, as it turns out, not well founded. With a flick of his hands and a yell, the wooden chocks were kicked free from the door wheel. The pegs began to spin violently as the counter weight, originally hoisted at the height of the parapet, fluttered to the ground. In turn, the door clattered open to reveal the site of their new enemy.

The Golem came crashing through to the screams of women and children at the nearby tavern, huddled behind stained glass and seeking shelter from the inclement weather and fight. The Golem was not humanoid, far from it. More akin to a mountain moved to purpose, it was more similar to a stack of rocks a child might have formed on the edge of a ravine. An old game to see how many could be placed before it toppled, the Golem defied commonly understood laws of gravity. Its body was boulders, its arms were boulders, and it has no eyes or perceptible face. At the center of its mass, a large jagged rock glowed orange like a beacon in the cold of winter.

One of the wall mounted archers loosed an arrow towards the beast. The fletching whistled and the impact pinged metallic against the stone before ricocheting into the snow. The beast turned towards the wall, far removed from the inscription in the snow drawn by the druid. Ere gritted his teeth and flung his foot forward, stepping hard into the ground, as he placed fist on top of fist in an aggressive expression.

"Aecáemm me, hen carraigh!" His words came out harsh, harsher than anything he had spoken up until this point. The words sang etheric, as if carried by the spirit itself, and moved far beyond the distance of what was audible. Evidently it had worked. The Golem's attention snapped back to the druid and without delay, began running towards the man. Well, it was a run by accounts of their species.

To anyone else, it was a power walk at best.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

One of those men abandoned their post. The other remained frozen with fear. Eislyn was down in the midst of the chaos. The tavern windows where her men stayed were rattling with each step of the golem. Those inside the grounds were running in a panic, grabbing what they could carry.

Bodies pushed and jostled the princess. Eislyn found it hard to maintain her footing as another shoulder bumped into hers. There were more screams from the front wall. She could sense the tide of battle shifting out of their favor. And for once, she remained frozen as she watched Ere and the golem.

She barely noticed when she was nudged from behind by her horse.

Ruffian had broken free from the stables and stamped his foot impatiently at her.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

He planted his feet firmly on the snow lined cobbled, directly on the opposite end of the symbol carved in the snow. A symbol that, despite the gales and gusts of wind, seemed to be as concrete and fortified as the ramparts themselves. An eerie energy took up around him as he stacked his fists in front of him. Snow seemed to deflect around him, spiraling and dancing in circles like autumnal leaves caught in a whimsical gust.

He bared his teeth, sharp as what might have been expected from a wolf. "Cáelm d'yaebl, cáelm!" He uttered in a coarse whisper as the Golem crossed the first threshold of the marking. "Cáelm!" He yelled again as a gust of wind howled through the courtyard, slapping window shades open and shut.

Separating his hands, his fists opened wide as static energy arched from the ground and hopped across the hide of his trousers. Dropping to his knee rather abruptly, he slammed his hands against the ground and yelled one final time. "Voe'rle!"

The cobble courtyard rumbled as green energy poured out from his hands like a cut artery. It seeped into the ground and in response, the Golem came to a sliding stop. It was difficult to make out expressions on its faceless countenance, but one could have almost exhumed regret as it tried to back step. But it was far too late.

Rock outcroppings of pitched basalt erupted from the ground. The first shot passed the Golem, blocking any forward momentum. The next shot behind it, sandwiching it between the two angled spires. Another erupted just as it lifted its arm to crash down towards a spire, suspending its arm at the peak of the attack. Another shot out and clamped the other arm down to its body. Another and another another. The sound of rock constricting against rock echoed loudly as the beast crumpled against the pressure.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Was this rune magic? A mixture of that and something more ancient. As the ground rumbled, she found herself tipping sideways. Hands caught herself on the snow-strewn cobbles of the street. A wind that wasn't there before tore and whipped at golden strands of hair.

The other side of the wall was breaking. There was an angry howl from the lycan behind them. Eislyn turned and saw the iron bangle from around her wrist had fallen off.

Verdants ripped up from the ground to try and find Ere's.

She tried to yell a warning. But as she opened her mouth, a pulse of bright, unadulterated light left the princess. In an instant, the courtyard and small town were lit up with something brighter than day. The creatures of the dark howled in pain. Some burned as their dark magic was touched by something unbidden and pure.

It was the beginning of their retreat.

The princess fell back in the snow, unmoving as darkness took her.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

Ere felt it before it came, like the smell of ozone before a thunderstorm. He had quickly ran up the basalt spires, hooking his hands along the edges or in holds formed by the magic. His mind was in a trance, his hand pressed against the Golem's head. He was working through the continuation of the magic to subdue the beast. It had all of two options. Leave or become a monument within the Spur. He was hoping for the former but he suspected that would be a hard pill to swallow for the townfolk.

Just as he snapped free from the magic, the surge of energy rushed against him like the wind preceding a monstrous wave. He lifted his clawed hands to his eyes to shield the light but was struck back. He stumbled and grunted, tripping and falling off the Golem's shoulder and landing smack on the cobble. Snow buffeted out beneath him and his vision went dark.

Before it all slipped away, he watched as the Golem shadowed the blast of light and sent curtains flickering skyward.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"M'lady," there was a shake on her shoulder. Geoffrey was by her side. "M'lady," he repeated more urgently, gloved hands on her shoulders, moving to cradle her face.

Eislyn's eyes slowly opened, a cloud of daze and disorientation making it hard for clarity.

"Oh thank the nine kings. Your father would have my head if anything happened to you. Can you sit up?" Head shook. Eislyn squinted.

"The others...the elf...what-where? Do we still have to evacuate."

Oh and her heard hurt something incredibly.

"Did you not see that light? Whatever it was - it saved us. Probably from the elf."

Eislyn's heart thundered in her chest as she lay on the ground. She knew the truth and she was glad Geoffrey didn't.

 

[Neremyn Virvyre]

Far before his sense of sight reclaimed him, his sense of smell came flooding back in. It was dank, damp and pregnant with mold. There was even the slightest hint of urine and defecation. He was worried that the smell was originating from himself but as his sight returned, he realized that would have been the preferred option.

Groaning, he lifted himself from the ground. It was in fact damp and not fortified, likely left for mud to improve the ambiance for whatever prisoner was being held beneath the keep. There were several rows of bars between his and the next solid wall, lit halfway up the length by an iron mounted torch that was threatening to go out. As far as he could tell, he was the only guest.

The elf sighed and rested his face against the cell door, wrapping his hands around the horizontal bar.

"Try it'elf, just ferkin' try'it!" The knight errant spit the words as he leaned away from the nearest wall. "Use a bit o' that magic you got, I'll stab you for the joy of'it!"

Ere eyed him and sighed once more, feeling the cold of the bars against his cheeks. "I suspect I'm to blame for something?"
"I suspect so, you knife-eared bastard. Tryin' ta take down ma lord's castle from wifin, I saw it meself!"
"You saw shit." The elf uttered, somewhat defeated.
"The ferk you say..." The man approached, holding his hand on his hilt.

Ere shook his head and stepped away from the bars, pressing his back against the wall.
"That's what I thought...elf."