Legend of Ransera

On his second day in Kalzasi, Rhydian Val'Kor woke unaided as his usual hour and conducted those elements of his morning routine he was able to observe in this strange land. Although Kalzasi hadn't been the first stop on his trip, this represented the young Hytori's first venture outside of the elven motherland, so there was still an anxious excitement brimming beneath what mild expressions he wore as he regarded his fair visage in the looking glass.

Though he'd seemed reluctant to leave Rhydian to his own devices, the prince has insisted that his travel companion, Karrhei, go on his temple tours on his own.

"I am a fully functional adult capable of traversing Kalzasern streets bereft of the guidance of another absolute stranger to the realm..." He'd explained in a tone that read more didactic than dry. Karrhei, after all, was just as new to travel outside of Sol'Valen as he, and there were tasks on both of their agendas that would call for them to separate from time to time. Karrhei had duties to his god and Rhydian had duties to his...

As one of the servants sent from Silfanore fussed over his straight, crimson hair, the prince drew an envelope from a pocket concealed in the folds of his robes. As he slipped the note from out the envelope he brought it to his nose first, to smell the same perfumed aroma that graced the pillow on which lay the head of the Phoenix King. He held in that breath, as if hesitant to release it. When he did, it was through a wistful sigh. He unfolded the missive and regarded what few words there were etched in Ailuin's own hand. As King Ailuin dwelt betimes in the realm of dreams, it was not unusual for his mercurial majesty to leave Rhydian like a lucid dream... wanting for more. This task was certainly no exception, vague as it was. There was, at least, an address.

Distracted as he was by other matters, Rhydian wouldn't even note the rising brow of the concierge at The Icewing Grand Hotel, when he inquired after directions.


Rhydian pursed his lips as he regarded the signpost. The aptly-named Half-forgotten Inn was situated in the equally-aptly-named Kalzasi Commons, a far cry and a formidable distance from his provisional lodgings in the Cloudhaven District. Taking a deep breath, he stepped up to the door, starting as it swung toward him. Dancing out of the way of a boisterously inebriated human lumbering out of the public house, he caught the door before it swung back in and stepped inside.

A cursory glance around the main floor revealed no other Hytori. Perhaps this would be more involved than the work of a simple courier, he thought, making his way to the bar and placing a palm down upon the mahogany.

"Blackberry sherry, if you have it. Brandywine, if not."

"Brandywine it is then." Janey stared at the elven prince with wide, dove-grey eyes and absorbed the beauty of him as one might a painting of flowers in the depths of Frost. Dirty blonde hair was tied in a messy knot atop her head and she batted loose strands out of her eyes after setting aside the pint glass she was drying. "Ah, sir." That last was tacked on hastily and delivered with a quick smile that was surprisingly pretty. The Half-forgotten Inn – or The Forgot-Inn as Dhruv had dubbed it, much to the delight of the proprietor – tended to house of late a wealth of hidden treasures. (Likely Fool's Gold in the end.) All the same, business had been booming, so people must appreciate the occasional shine. What the part-time bartender lacked in wisdom, she made up for in good humor.  

A tangle of rug merchants squabbled at a table near the bar in the manner of men for whom such was more art than mere habit. One of them bellowed something about settling a debt as Janey was slapping the drying towel down to reach for the bottle. She caught Rhydian's eyes and rolled her own before turning towards the narrow stairwell at the end of the pockmarked mahogany bar. "DHRUV! Come pour your cousin a drink! Sorry, luv, gotta handle a thing --" Janey ducked under the bar door rather than bothering to lift it -- after all there was a stack of books on it one might politely describe as "antique" -- and made her way through the sparse crowd towards the rug merchants.

As keen an observer as the Val'Kor prince might notice there any number of strange little surprises about the inn. It was ramshackle, but quite clean. The bar itself could have graced a ballroom before it had become so scarred and there were a startling amount of crumbling books and interesting odds and ends tucked into shelves along the fireplace wall. The roof still sagged a bit but the door hinges had recently been replaced as had a fresh pane of glass for the window near the door. The framing had a new coat of paint. And the patrons? Well, they were poor and sometimes dirty and definitely loud. Only there was no tension to stale the air as there so often was in places such as these, where not only fights but certainly the occasional murder took place on the regular. Had Rhydian come to call a year ago, he would find the inn much changed. 

There came a crash abovestairs before a flurry of footsteps tumbling down the narrow stairwell. The man responsible for the improvements, and for the new kind of trouble they sometimes brought, appeared and immediately slumped behind the bar. He swaggered, loose-hipped as any hytori, but slouched in a manner that would have had the throne room in Silfanor sniffing. He was dressed in dark, plain clothes with no weapons or adornments save for a wide, fitted bracelet made of steel and scuff marks. A close inspection might uncover the glyph markings beneath, but nobody tended to bother. 

"Cousin, eh?" Dhruv offered Rhydian a friendly smirk. If the sight of the man had given him pause in the doorway, the dim light from the stairwell behind him, it went unnoticed by most. "Apologies. Can't convince her we're not all related. What'll it be then?

"Blackberry sherry, he said," Janey interjected while bouncing back by them, a new tray in hand. "But we don't have any of that so he'll settle for brandywine, he said, only you and I both know that won't do what with Brandon not bein' back until at least another few nights..." She didn't finish so much as she disappeared again, this time into the kitchen and promptly back out again, plates balanced on her tray.

Dhruv dropped into a crouch behind the bar halfway through Janey's fretting to rummage through one of the cupboards. "Thanks, sweetheart," he informed her back while unraveling back to his full height, a dusty bottle twisting in his hands to display the label to Rhydian -- apple brandy. 

"It's not blackberry sherry, but it's rather good," he confided and made a study with golden eyes nobody in the Commons much cared were sad, the quirk of his smile somewhere between curious and wary. 

"Brandywine it is then." Janey stared at the elven prince with wide, dove-grey eyes and absorbed the beauty of him as one might a painting of flowers in the depths of Frost. Dirty blonde hair was tied in a messy knot atop her head and she batted loose strands out of her eyes after setting aside the pint glass she was drying. "Ah, sir." 

That last was tacked on hastily and delivered with a quick smile that was surprisingly pretty. The Half-forgotten Inn – or The Forgot-Inn as Dhruv had dubbed it, much to the delight of the proprietor – tended to house of late a wealth of hidden treasures. (Likely Fool's Gold in the end.) All the same, business had been booming, so people must appreciate the occasional shine. What the part-time bartender lacked in wisdom, she made up for in good humor.  

A tangle of rug merchants squabbled at a table near the bar in the manner of men for whom such was more art than mere habit. One of them bellowed something about settling a debt as Janey was slapping the drying towel down to reach for the bottle. She caught Rhydian's eyes and rolled her own before turning towards the narrow stairwell at the end of the pockmarked mahogany bar. "DHRUV! Come pour your cousin a drink! Sorry, luv, gotta handle a thing --" Janey ducked under the bar door rather than bothering to lift it -- after all there was a stack of books on it one might politely describe as "antique" -- and made her way through the sparse crowd towards the rug merchants.

As keen an observer as the Val'Kor prince might notice there any number of strange little surprises about the inn. It was ramshackle, but quite clean. The bar itself could have graced a ballroom before it had become so scarred and there were a startling amount of crumbling books and interesting odds and ends tucked into shelves along the fireplace wall. The roof still sagged a bit but the door hinges had recently been replaced as had a fresh pane of glass for the window near the door. The framing had a new coat of paint. And the patrons? Well, they were poor and sometimes dirty and definitely loud. Only there was no tension to stale the air as there so often was in places such as these, where not only fights but certainly the occasional murder took place on the regular. Had Rhydian come to call a year ago, he would find the inn much changed. 

There came a crash abovestairs before a flurry of footsteps tumbling down the narrow stairwell. The man responsible for the improvements, and for the new kind of trouble they sometimes brought, appeared and immediately slumped behind the bar. He swaggered, loose-hipped as any hytori, but slouched in a manner that would have had the throne room in Silfanor sniffing. He was dressed in dark, plain clothes with no weapons or adornments save for a wide, fitted bracelet made of steel and scuff marks. A close inspection might uncover the glyph markings beneath, but nobody tended to bother. 

"Cousin, eh?" Dhruv offered Rhydian a friendly smirk. If the sight of the man had given him pause in the doorway, the dim light from the stairwell behind him, it went unnoticed by most. "Apologies. Can't convince her we're not all related. What'll it be then?

"Blackberry sherry, he said," Janey interjected while bouncing back by them, a new tray in hand. "But we don't have any of that so he'll settle for brandywine, he said, only you and I both know that won't do what with Brandon not bein' back until at least another few nights..." She didn't finish so much as she disappeared again, this time into the kitchen and promptly back out again, plates balanced on her tray.

Dhruv dropped into a crouch behind the bar halfway through Janey's fretting to rummage through one of the cupboards. "Thanks, sweetheart," he informed her back while unraveling back to his full height, a dusty bottle twisting in his hands to display the label to Rhydian -- apple brandy. 

"It's not blackberry sherry, but it's rather good," he confided and made a study with golden eyes nobody in the Commons much cared were sad, the quirk of his smile somewhere between curious and wary. 

Rhydian inclined his head in acknowledgement and acceptance of his second-choice of beverage. Though his dark eyes briefly met Janey's, they were quick to dance away and down. It was not uncommon for haughty Hytori of Sol'Valen to seem aloof, but in this case the motivation for his ocular aversion seemed more bashful than condescending. As he shifted his torso to turn sideways, his eyes kept going, exploring the vista of the barroom before him. Janey remained in his periphery and his hand was already on his coin purse, so he would note her return and see things settled in all haste, but the bulk of his focus was on surveying the environs and those that peopled them.

Before he'd sated his immediate curiosity, the barmaid's raised voice drew Rhydian's primary focus back to the bar. He tilted his head in the direction toward which Janey had called out, and pursed his lips as a din served as overture to the entrance of the one called Dhruv. He was relieved for a moment as how simply he'd located the subject of Ailuin's interested, but that relief was short-lived.

"You are a barman?" He managed to sound more guileless than classist in so asking, but smiled and offered a chuckle when the 'cousin' thing was explained. "There is a temple in the mountains dedicated to proving her correct in that assumption." He observed through the faint smile that lingered upon his lips. Though he arched an eyebrow at the bottle presented, he shrugged one shoulder and said:

"In truth, I would be content with anything that doesn't make me ill, and I am blessed with Rhaella's Grace, so make of that what you will." He gestured for Dhruv to pour the apple brandy he recommended, and shifted his body back toward facing the bar, and the barman, more directly.

"May I ask how you wound up in these-..." He paused a beat and recomposed his thought, "Do you quite enjoy working here? The place seems..." His ears perked at the sound of rising voices from the vicinity of the rug merchants, "...boistrous."

So in my excitement that Dhruv was returning, I encouraged y'all to pick up old threads. Beginner mistake. Thanks for bringing the continuity issue to my attention. I have done some wibbley-wobbley timey-wimey magic and made this a missed connection, HOWEVER, when they do meet at the wedding celebration, they will both have an almost dizzying sense of déjà vu.

Due to mod-bombing, you both receive 12 xp for use at your discretion.