Episode 1
Daia stumbled out of the tavern, bumping into a well-dressed Human as she seemed to lose her footing. Catching herself on the leg of the unsuspecting man with her head bowed beneath her hood, she slurred, “Whoops.” He shook her off indignantly, whipped his intricately embroidered traveling cloak around his shoulder, and disappeared down the crowded dirt road. Daia took a few heavy steps before ducking out of sight among the big people.
After ensuring that no Holy Knights were within view, Daia hurried down the side street behind the inn, no longer showing any hint of insobriety, with a smile on her face and a new bag of coin tinkling in her hand. She tucked away the small, metal claw she had been gifted, which made cutting a coin purse free very quick and, most importantly, sneaky.
Jogging merrily into the stable, she went to the back where her fawn-color pygmy goat companion waited but she tucked the purse out of sight a little too late. The goat narrowed her eyes at Daia.
“Come now, Dimelza! After all these months, you still judge me for how I earn money– the money to buy your freedom, I might add.” As Daia opened the stall, she asked, “What would you have me do? Beg your deity, whats-his-name, for help? Ha! That’s never gonna happen.”
Daia always pretended to forget Oremnos’ name to annoy the devout Dimelza. The goat glared at her for another moment until Daia said sharply, “If you don’t like it, you can go home. I never asked you to come. In fact, I distinctly remember telling you not to!”
Dimelza huffed and looked away. They both knew she would never leave, no matter how much she disliked their circumstances.
Once the goat-sized saddle bags were in place, Dimelza clopped away and waited just outside the door. Slinging her pack over her shoulder, Daia made some pointed remarks in the hope of winning the argument. “I should have sold you the moment I got the chance. You’d make a much better show goat than you do a conscience!”
As Daia walked toward the exit, a boy caught her eye for the first time. He stood in the dusty, brown tunic of the peasantry slowly brushing one of the horses and staring at Daia in confusion. Rather than try to explain why she had been talking to a goat, she pointed to the horse and said, “You missed a spot.”
Following her companion outside and onto the main street, Daia instinctively kept her eyes peeled for the classic white apparel of the Holy Knights. They could have been patrolling anywhere and would have loved nothing more than to arrest a member of the elusive Thieves Guild. Daia did not like to imagine what would have become of them if the Holy Knights ever learned of her affiliation, and a lesser woman likely would have stayed much farther away from the capital than she ventured.
There were simply too many rich people around the center of Thyle to stay in the border kingdoms, despite the risk. The two squeezed between countless, bustling people, mostly Human and Dwarvish folk, and all the while Daia fought against the urge to pick too many pockets. After all, silver and copper grew quite heavy for a Halfling after a point.
They continued toward the east of Azer, where one of the few remaining Thieves Guild hideouts lay. There Daia had a chest under the protection of the only scoundrels she would trust with such things as her stash of stolen goods. She always knew where a friendly face would be by the made-up holy symbol above the door.
A glint caught Daia’s eye and she stopped, causing the boot of a passerby to graze her leg. With little thought of her companion trotting on ahead, Daia ducked closer to the treasure she hoped to find. It was shiny, golden in color, and most tantalizing; but as she approached, she realized it was merely an envelope in a sack full of envelopes.
It stuck out of the top of a young man’s bag as he laughed and chatted with his nearby messenger friend. It was only a piece of shiny paper, Daia told herself, yet her fingers still itched to hold it. It likely had hardly any worth, certainly not enough to warrant the risk she would have been taking, yet, she could not deny the pride she would feel were she to take it right from under the boy’s nose.
Dimelza bleated about a block away, seeming to notice at last that Daia was no longer following her. Before she could talk herself out of it, and before her companion could give her away, Daia walked past the open bag. Her cloak brushed over the top of it, and her fingers pinched the corner of the envelope. She snatched it out and was gone in one swift motion.
Her heart pounded with excitement as she hid the newest find beneath her cloak and hurried to catch up with Dimelza. The goat gave Daia a small headbutt in the arm for daring to leave her like that.
“Ow,” Daia exaggerated while rubbing her arm. As they fled the scene together, Daia glanced down at the envelope, noticing for the first time the ornate, purple wax that sealed it. There was no writing on the golden paper, but the seal had imprinted on it a fancy letter W surrounded by leaves and fruits of some kind. Tucking it back under her arm, Daia resigned herself to waiting until they stopped to make camp before she would open it.
At the edge of Azer, Holy Knights pointlessly manned the city gate, barely looking at anyone passing through. Daia blended in with the throngs of people on their way out and smiled to herself as she observed those who were said to keep law and order. The proximity to danger was exhilarating, but she was still glad to arrive on the other side.
The Holy Knights wore white adorned with the multicolored symbol of the gods of harmony: the red jaws of the Lion, the golden horns of the Ram, and the blue waves of the Siren. To her, they were arranged just right to look like a face. It was the same symbol that King Dorian Baird chose for his family crest, although with the addition of their last initial. With one final look behind her, Daia thought that such a silly face was quite fitting to represent the lot of them.
***
Kieran gazed over the glistening water, balancing atop a narrow post and studying the breathtaking beauty of the ocean. The Wood-Elf was surprisingly familiar with life at sea, for he had not lived among his own kind since birth. Life was good, he told himself, and beauty abundant; but a feeling that he would be betraying the only family he knew weighed heavily on him.
“Kieran,” the Abbot’s voice floated over the comforting slosh of waves. “It’s time.”
Turning on his bare toes to face the land, Kieran hopped gracefully from one pier to the next until the shore was a mere somersault away. From his calm demeanor, it was not evident how nervous he was about what task he would be given. He had worked plenty of jobs for the monastery, but that was before they had started taking on contracts that were beyond even his morals.
Upon easily finding his footing in the soft sand, Kieran turned to face the Abbot humbly. With a slight bow, he asked, “How can I serve Hestian today?” He could only hope that his deity would not punish him for what he felt he had to do.
The Abbot produced a sheet of shiny, golden paper from the pocket of his gray robe. Holding it up and unfolding it, he told Kieran, “We’ve received a mysterious letter from the kingdom of Raejordia, which promises great wealth for whoever answers it.”
As he extended the letter, he gazed at Kieran intently and continued, “You alone will go to investigate the nature of this invitation. You’ll travel immediately almost due north, to a small town called Dahl in the southwest of Raejordia, near the mountains. It should be about a five-day journey for one as quick as you. You’ll find a map and rations already prepared.”
Finally breaking eye contact, he stared out at the sea and told Kieran in a softer tone, “We will not expect word from you for a fortnight, and, should it pan out, you may be receiving payment while you’re there.”
Kieran accepted the letter, nodded obediently, and sprinted toward his quarters to pack his personal comforts. The gray stone walls that housed monks of all ages echoed with speech, laughter, and chanted prayers. With his few belongings in hand, he ran a few fingers along the cold hall as he went down it. He had doubted his faith before, but it was getting more difficult than ever for him to trust the will of Hestian.
He wore the deep gray-blue tunic and bycocket hat that denoted his faith and slipped on his sandals at the door. It was time, he knew, to bid his fellow orphans goodbye. Although he would have liked to embrace them, giving them a worthy final parting as he had with the sea, he feared that the farewell they deserved would have made his intentions of not returning too obvious.
“You’ll have to tell us everything when you get back,” Seawing said with a grin. “We’re all itching to know the full of it. If anyone’ll be good for telling the epic tale, it’ll be you! So hurry back, right?”
Kieran smiled and gave his closest friend a half-hug. That was not out of the ordinary for the two of them. Clapping Seawing on the back, he said, “I’ll tell you everything when I see you next.” As he turned to the north with his back to his brothers, Kieran knew that their next meeting could not be in this life.
