“Trinsday, 2nd of Warmening, 630. I was arranging my bookshelves this morning as Facyr brought in these two elven nobles. They gave us pointers on something that could be about an old headache the archmages of Colemia thought was already way past us for good – or that's just my hunch, it could be just a plain ordinary crazy mage at work. Gosh, and here I thought this was all just so insignificant. We're now on the way to Furinel, and I'm writing this on a little bit leaky tent, which I hope to get mended when we stop at Walvalley in three days hence.”
—Gnedrnygr Adithebadoggr's journal
The guard posted at the Small Gate watched the early morning traffic with a certain kind of eye for details. Trinvnil, the sun of Avarthrel, was rising, and painted the hill behind him and the valley across the road with reddish hues. On clear mornings like this, it was possible to see far away, all the way to the nearest islands in the distance across the seas. Staan Athiv drew a good breath and reflected on the view to the valley for a moment before returning to guard the traffic: it was comforting that at least the views here stayed the same every year in each season. He was a constable, and was in for a promotion next week, and he knew that traditionally, the last week before promotions were always the worst for city guards and most people who depended on the luck. People tended to get killed in interesting ways just as they knew something good was going to happen them, as if Nottomwah had put a bump in the big roulette wheel in the heavens. Of course, Staan liked to think that he didn't need to depend on luck, just skill, and besides, he wasn't exactly getting a big promotion either, so he believed he was quite safe. It was probably not quite as dangerous as the week before retirement, for example. Yet, he felt it was still best to stay sharp, just in case.
He had developed an eye to ignore certain details and focus on things that weren't normal, and right now, all things were pretty much all blur to him. Focusing on really important things was thus easy. He had a good seat, or rather a guard post, from which to see how this country worked.
Two wagons took typical city-manufactured junk to the countryside: One had racks full of these finely crafted tools the city was known for, another wagon carried several mysteriously robed monks, each assigned to deliver some priceless books in person to monasteries in the north. Staan chuckled at this; was the city exporting books, or monks? With some religious upheavals in recent memory, you couldn't tell.
Some wagons, on the other hand, brought things from the countryside that spread all around the city, and from other cities beyond: Barrels piled upon barrels, all full of fruits and wine. Staan was just a guard and didn't know much of the scheming of the merchants, yet he knew, just by looking at the traffic and letting his mind wander to kill the boredom, that the trade was running smoothly and the city was prosperous.
This boring yet thoughtful routine had been that way all morning - absolutely nothing interesting or complex that would need his immediate attention, at least what came to guarding things. It was clearly a good day for philosophizing in the duty.
Boredom and philosophizing did not mean he would be caught off guard. He straightened himself up, having sagged a bit while pondering things, and tried to show that he was at attention, as a pair of travellers appeared from behind the hill on horseback.
When they got closer, he could see they were two elves. You don't see elves too often in the big city, Staan thought – and these two look very serious. Staan looked them with an eye of a watchman, which meant he squinted at the pair menacingly and tried to tell whether or not the pair was going to be of trouble. He quickly discerned that the elven male and female, while being robed in those fine, yet suspiciously inconspicuous robes, were not of any threat. After all, while he had never seen elven robbers himself, he tended to guess they'd go for a bit more lethal look, even while veiling themselves. These were just ordinary elves.
The two stopped as they saw Staan. “Greetings of a fine morning to you, guard”, the male said.
“Good morning, sir”, Staan replied. And who would this fair couple be? Nobles, that's for sure – though you could never tell from the elves. This couple definitely looked regal, apart of the fact they were here with just a pair of rather miserable-looking horses and without lackeys and all. Staan found these things quite curious. But after a bit of pondering, he guessed that even the elves had their shoddy-looking commoners.
“Could you tell me where I could find... um... Realn, have you seen my notebook?” the apparent elven lord said as he furiously tried to find the book in question from his pockets. “Never mind - what was the man's name?”
The female, who went by name Realn – Staan was sure the name rang bells deep in his memory, but couldn't tell for sure – chuckled lightly and turned to Staan. “We're looking for a specific group of adventurers for hire”, she explained, not at all bothered by the man's behaviour. “We were recommended to contact someone called Jenyr Adatel. I believe he works for the City Guard.”
“Oh, yes”, Staan said. It started to make sense – a couple of elven nobles who need to find someone who stole their jewel-encrusted coach and mystical shiny magic steeds. “Captain's side business, heh heh. Well, I guess Captain hasn't got too far from his friends' home yet – that's on Wilhelmsroad, second street right from this street. He's usually there, or in the guard barracks, which is on Adelev the Great's Avenue, that's, oh, sixth street left. He usually stops by on either place, and in the evening you can probably find him from an inn called the Laughing Fox. That's in the harbour area.”
“Thank you, my good guardsman. Goodbye, and may you have an interesting day”, the male said. They both bowed a bit with their hands on their hearts, and smiled in a warm way.
“Have a good day, sir and madam”, Staan said, smiled in turn to the busy-looking couple as they departed. He returned to watch the traffic and think of things. One day, he thought, he'd write a book about all of these things he had seen and thought about. Promotion meant a raise in pay, and maybe it would be wise to spend the first extra bits of money in one of those evening classes at the academy. To write a book, it might be useful to know how to read and write too...
In the city, on the lower half of Anchorfall, light mist was wrapping distant buildings in its embrace.
It was a bright morning, and two guards of the city were feeling chipper. They were Jenyr Adatel – a middle-aged, robust-looking, if a bit overweight, dark-haired fellow in a proper city guard attire - and Facyr Tann – a much younger, skinnier but equally battle-capable man with sandy-coloured hair. Jenyr was the kind of man you could easily tell to be a captain of the guard, even if he hadn't had his uniform. Facyr, meanwhile, wasn't in uniform, though he wore a chain mail, carried a sword, and had temporarily taken the kind of a baldric that was usually given to deputy and volunteer guards – but even when volunteers could be seen frequently patrolling the Upper City, few were armed that well, and even fewer carried a lieutenant's badge.
Few people they had met this morning were anything but cheerful today. After all, it was weekend and things went quietly in weekends in general; tomorrow was Dyesday and tonight, it was time for everyone to get partying again. They had still managed to run into a few grumpy people, undoubtedly still doing things they were supposed to get done by midweek, and were just mad that this morning, they couldn't stay in bed for a longer time.
“Does this bring back memories?” Jenyr asked Facyr with a big smile. “Two guardsmen and a quiet street.”
“Heh, too many of them”, Facyr said. “Which is why I'm here right now. A moment to do old things for old times' sake.”
“Yep, here we are, pacing down the streets, just like before the Revolution...”
“...and absolutely nothing interesting is going on.”
“Precisely. You'd almost think that the bad old times were back, right?”
“Sure, though even when it's quiet, things sure aren't that boring any more.”
The two grinned and turned around the corner. The city really was quite quiet today. Jenyr had had quite an effort to get things this way, especially after the preceding few somewhat chaotic years.
They saluted the other passing guardsmen, Jenyr in a proper military fashion – as much as such could be got from him – and Facyr in a more relaxed way, with a big smile. The guards greeted Jenyr with glee equal to his, and, some of the guards nodded even more cheerful greeting to Facyr. These few guards were of older generation who still remembered the time when Facyr had been Jenyr's second in command.
Two arguing people appeared from behind the next bend of the street. Jenyr grinned as he noted they were elves; he liked elves a lot and often wished to see them more. He also just sometimes hated that he felt so duty-bound to the city and guarding it. If the Regent ever felt Jenyr was too overworked and kicked him to a vacation for his own good, he would probably head to Furinel right away. His friends, of course, didn't question this at all – they just found it a bit funny: Jenyr, a manly man and among the toughest guards the city had seen, didn't seem like a type that constantly admired elven elegance.
“Oh, look, there's two elves who seem to be lost in our fine city”, Jenyr said as the elves headed their way.
“Good morning, guards”, the elf said. “...ah, captain.” he smiled to them as the two guards nodded in friendly greeting and smiled. “Would you be of assistance? We're looking for Jenyr Adatel's mercenary company. We were told it would be close by.”
Jenyr's face split to smile. “Well, you're in luck. I would be Jenyr Adatel. Glad to meet the fairer folk.” He smiled heartily and shook the elven lord's hand – he guessed the two had been arguing about where to go and weren't just expecting to run into the people they were looking for. “What can we do for you? Oh - and this is one of my associates, Facyr Tann, who is usually the mastermind behind all of our company's great deeds. I am just the financier, really.”
“Good morning, sir, madam”, Facyr said with a smile and nodded to the pair of elves.
“I am Aleln Valntathalen ath Valntathalen”, the elf introduced himself, with a rather hushed voice. Jenyr and Facyr found the name a bit surprising. “And this is my wife Realn Valntathalen ath Elthosthalen.”
“You're the Duke of Nothross? Forgive me, your grace”, Jenyr said, head bowed. “I should have recognized you earlier. I saw your grace during your visit to Anchorfall a couple of years ago—”
Aleln looked alarmed. “Quiet! Please, there's no need for posturing”, Aleln said, with a hushed voice, “Right now, we'd really appreciate it if we could stay unrecognised. If everyone know I'd be here, they'd want me to attend formal meetings, and every formal meeting always has a number of spies. I'm not good at coming up with cover stories, I'm afraid.”
“Oh?” Jenyr went, surprise on his voice not masked very well, but he figured out that if the duke wanted to be here incognito for whatever reason, that was just fine with him. “Anyway, if you wish us to help you, your grace, we're happy to help in whatever way you see necessary”, Jenyr said, with his ordinary, more relaxed voice that he used when addressing the Regent, with whom he was good friends with, but not quite friends enough to drop the titles. “we'd be happy to help the royalty of such a fine nation as Furinel. Now”, he said, relaxing a bit more, “I cannot do much about your problem personally, I'm afraid, but have no worry, my fine friends will be able to do wonders for you. Facyr?”
“Yep?” Facyr snapped half-heartedly, but almost convincingly, to attention.
“Could you take these fine folks to our fine house and listen to what they have to say? I'll have to continue the patrols. We have here elven royalty who obviously want to get their castle back!” He glanced at the nobles, who just smiled, happy that the guard had guessed their intentions right. Jenyr, after all, kept up with the news from the elven lands, and was aware of the situation the nobles were in. “Terrifying adventures in the northern frontier! Look, Facyr, I trust you can do this job properly, okay?”
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