Chronicles of Faerun Volume I: The Weave War

Book I: Gold and Grey

Chapter One: Shieldmeet, 1364 Dale Reckoning (The Year of the Trust)

Tessele d’Archendale unstrung her longbow as she entered the outskirts of Highmoon. The short walk from Whiteford, where she had been born and grew up – raised could not really be applied in her case – had left her thirsty for a cold glass of elven wine, something she knew the Moon and Star to keep on hand. Tolwin, the barkeep, would have a tale for her, and want to hear hers – where had she been for the last 3 months, were there drow or orcs or goblins in the woods to warn travelers about, etc. That, after all, was a ranger’s job – to keep track of the wildlife and others that passed through a region. Hers was the vicinity of Whiteford, forever hunting the members of the orc tribe that had slain her parents and left her scarred. She reached the tavern, shook the dust off of her clothes and out of her copper hair as best she could, and entered.

The common room was crowded – Shieldmeet was being held this year in Highmoon, and travelers from around the Dales made her certain there were no rooms available even without asking. That was not a problem – she camped outdoors most all the time, anyway, having no home or permanent residence. She approached the bar, and Tolwin had a glass of the wine ready when she arrived.

“Thanks, Tolwin. It’s nice to be known.” She smiled at him and sipped the wine.

“Anytime, lass.” He replied, once again wondering, as he had done since first seeing her, what she would look like without the scar running from over her right eye all the way across her face to her left chin. He thought she would have been beautiful – her elven mother had given her looks - that much was certain, and Gransby d’Archendale, her father, had given her his stamina and will to survive – necessities for a ranger. He looked into her bright, elven green eyes, and asked,

“Bounty? Or here for the meet? Three months is too short for you Tess, didn’t expect you for another two at least.”

She smiled. “Kind of here for the meet. Believe it or not, I’m looking for some adventurers to form a company and go off.”

“You? Go off? I thought you still hunted the last members of that orc band?”

“I did.” She pulled a ring from her pouch. “My mother’s. Taken by those who fled from the Riders. If the Riders who saved me didn’t lie, that’s the last of them. Now I just feel it’s time to move on.”

He looked at her sadly. “Well, I’ll miss you, whether others do or not. But I understand – a young lady like yourself needs to get out and do something. And Shieldmeet’s definitely the place to meet adventurers.”

She laughed when he said “young lady” and replied, “Young – yes, though at 26 some might not think so, Lady – I think not. I’m a ranger, Tolwin, and always dusty and slightly worn now. Maybe once I would have been a Lady – if Calmert hadn’t broken the betrothal after I got this.” She drew a finger down along the scar. “He was just too concerned with appearance – I suppose it’s a good thing in a way I found that out. Maybe I should have thanked that orc!” She laughed again.

“Well Tess, all I can say to you is I think any man would be lucky to have you. Never met a nicer girl, and your mom, if I can speak of her, she taught you everything you’ll ever need to know to be a lady.”

She blushed. “Thank you Tolwin. I’ll be back someday, that I can assure you. So, seen any likely candidates?”

He paused for a second, and scratched his chin.

“Well, there were two – kind of an odd pair. A well dressed gent, human, and a likewise well dressed halfling. A bard and a thief, I’d say, from the looks of them, though the halfling – think his name was Miles or something, called himself an ‘Adventurer’ – they all do. The human just told me to call him Tal – they rented a room, then went out to see the fair. There was another who was actually asking me the same question, but I don’t think you’d want to hunt HIM up – he was a huge hulking half orc with an axe.”

She looked surprised. “A half orc? How did he act? Not wanted that you could tell, is he?”

“I don’t think so. He seemed to know how to get along with others real well, spoke good common, too, and very polite – even ignored the comments the rowdies threw at him.”

“That’s very odd.”

“I thought so, at least. Other than that, I haven’t seen anyone. Not at least who looked like they were wanting to start a company.”

She nodded at him, thanked him, finished her wine and went in search of this bard and halfling. A bard would be the one, obviously, to start a company with. And halflings, while sometimes too garrulous, were generally always useful.

It didn’t take her long to find them – the halfling’s voice was speaking in excited chondathan –

“Will you look at THAT! WOW! He must be the biggest man I’ve ever seen, Tal. He’d be great to stand in front of you and take the hits.”

“Milo, we’re not looking for a target to distract those we meet – we’re looking for a new friend to help us.” The human’s accent was odd, then it struck Tess why – he spoke with a typical halfling accent! She hurried up to look at this pair.

The halfling was obviously an “adventurer” – leather armor, a short sword, soft boots, and she could see his hand darting around as people passed by. She smiled to herself – if they wanted to be dumb enough to walk by a halfling without guarding their purse, it was their problem. She only concerned herself with those who hurt others. The human was quite striking – dark blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a face of refined handsomeness – she felt a little flutter inside when she looked at him. He was slightly taller than she, by about 2 inches, no more, and well-built for his size. The lute on his back was the giveaway as to his career – no others were known to carry instruments around. His voice was melodious, yet obviously powerful. He was dressed in a slightly ill-fitting chain shirt, and wore a rapier and dagger. His clothing was outrageous – bright colors, but all blended well, a soft hat with a huge feather, and soft slipper like shoes. The halfling, once she tore her eyes away from the bard, wore normal, non-descript clothes and colors. His hair was black, and his eyes that odd shade of green found in both halflings and elves – just like hers. He was typical halfling height – about 3’ in shoes, but with none of the rotundness many halflings seemed to display.

She looked to see who these two were talking about, and saw him almost instantly. He was easily 6’ 8” tall – over a foot above her height - and titanically muscled. He was a half-orc, no doubt about it – the tusks and rings in his lips and eyebrows proved that beyond a doubt. The axe he carried looked to be almost as large as he. He was standing still, watching a priest of Gond wind up strange metal toys that moved by themselves – clockworks, she knew, but obviously he did not. She saw the bard walk up to him, and listened to the conversation.

“You seem very interested in these devices, my good barbarian.” This was spoken in orc-accented common! She was stunned at the bard’s ability to mimic it.

The half-orc turned to him, and grinned. “Yes, I think my little brother would like one, but I have no money to pay. I’ll just wait, I guess.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. His accent was likewise odd – and totally unfamiliar, though he spoke common well. She realized this must be the half-orc Tolwin had spoken of.

“Would you be interested in perhaps getting the money to buy all the toys you wished? Allow me to introduce myself – I am Taliesin Telstaerr, Bard, formerly of Westgate. This is my companion, and, believe me or not, brother – Milo Highhill, also formerly of Westgate. We have come here to seek our fortunes, and look for those with like minds to join us.” The bard bowed slightly.

The half-orc looked at him for a second, then bellowed “I Keth Zorgar! I mighty warrior of Palischuk! I split enemy with ‘Gutcleaver!’” Here the typical orc accent he had adopted vanished, and he continued, “Thank you for asking me, Taliesin, and it is a pleasure to meet you and your brother Milo.” He shook hands with them.

“I also wish to thank you for offering – many do not trust a half-orc. I would be willing to accompany you, at least for one adventure, to see if we get along – you may not be exactly who I am looking for, after all.”

“Likewise with us, Keth Zorgar from Palischuk – that name answers many of the questions I had. One adventure then, and we can see what happens from there. As I said, I am a Bard, and able to cure – and Milo is a rogue – with quite a bit of knowledge.”

“I AM NOT A ROGUE!” The halfling indignantly replied. “I am an ADVENTURER. There is a DIFFERENCE!” He looked at Taliesin. “A rogue, for example, would be so occupied picking pockets he wouldn’t have noticed the half-elf woman over there listening to your entire conversation. A ranger, I’d make her, and I’d bet 30 thumbs her elven half’s wood elf stock. Just look at her copper hair.” He turned and flashed a very white grin at Tess, then winked.

Tessele froze, mortified that just as Taliesin turned she was staring right at him – he’d almost certainly know she was attracted, and definitely, thanks to this “Adventurer,” knew she’d been listening. She prepared to run. Interestingly, it was the half-orc who stopped her.

“A ranger?” She glanced at Keth as he looked at her. “That would be a good addition to any party, if, as half-elf, she can ignore my half-orc, and, of course, if she’s looking for a company.” His eyes shot wide as he saw her fully.

“Very impressive! What art!” He walked towards her, and she knew, from where his eyes went, that he was examining her scar. “That would make you a queen in Palischuk – I’ve never seen better.”

Tessele was stunned – no one had ever complimented her scar. She shrugged, looked Keth in the eye, and said,

“It was a full member of your kind who gave it to me, after butchering my mother and father. They used an axe just like that” – she pointed to the greataxe on his back – “so pardon me if I’m inclined to NOT want your company. I was seeking them.” She pointed to Taliesin and Milo.

Keth looked at her, and seemed to look sorrowful.

“I am sorry, ranger. In Palischuk humans and orcs live in peace, and I forget in other places half-orcs who try to build and trade with honor are not to be found. And I also forget scars are unattractive to all except my kind.” He gave a wry grin, exposing two large tusks, one capped with gold. “I apologize – would you feel better if I said you were ugly?”

Tess’s eyes darted at Tal as Keth said this, but he showed no signs of agreeing. To her surprise and a strange warm delight, he was looking her up and down, as Calmert had done when she was 10, and their betrothal had been set. She shook the thoughts out of her mind – he was only sizing her up for a possible member of an adventuring company, just as he had sized up Keth. There was no chance he was attracted to a dirty, half-wood elf (the halfling had been very observant, she thought) ranger whose hair color was barely discernable under the dust, and had that scar that made her unmistakable. Keth’s reply, however, had caught her off-guard. It was an odd reply – where was Palischuk? The bard seemed to know something about the name. What was he talking about, and why did he not have objections to a half-elf?

“Well,” Taliesin began, “I would suggest a comfortable table back at the Moon and Star if we are to continue this discussion. It would be my great pleasure if you both would accompany my brother and I – as Keth stated, a ranger is a good addition to any company that plans on doing a lot of traveling. Do you have objections to that, miss...?”

“d’Archendale, Tessele d’Archendale.” She shook hands with the bard and Halfling (throwing Milo a stern look) and then, reluctantly, with Keth. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to at least discuss the matter – you do seem rather odd for a half-orc.” Keth just grinned.

The four of them made their way back to the inn and found a table off to one side. Here Taliesin positioned himself where he could see the door. Tess, in the habit of doing the same thing, found herself sitting next to him, closer than she felt comfortable with. Taliesin ordered a bottle of wine and a pitcher of ale, but it was Milo, pulling out a handful of loose coins, many from far away lands judging from the shape and the stampings, who paid.

“Were those coins already in your pocket when you arrived this morning, Master Highhill?” Tess asked.

“Actually no, they seem to have simply fallen into the folds of my pants – what luck they weren’t lost, eh?” He grinned at her, but that’s when she saw the look in his eye – there was something slightly disconcerting about this Halfling – the look was too cold. Taliesin simply smiled.

“So here we are, four people looking for adventure. With the possible exception of Miss d’Archendale, I feel I am correct in stating that none of us have a great deal of experience – thus we seek others of like minds, lest we fall in our tale instead of rising above it. As for the minds, I can clearly state for my brother and I that we, overall, seek to assist and help – promoting the greater good,” here he looked at Tess, “though not necessarily upholding the normal conventions of society. How about the two of you? The mindset is perhaps the most important to learn, before skills and abilities. Keth, what do you seek? Palischuk tells me you are probably not an insane berserker, but every place has it’s own.”

Keth was silent for a minute, then drained his ale and poured another. He passed his huge hand across his mouth, wiping away the foam.

“I am on a personal quest – that I will not speak of to you yet. I do not seek to harm anyone who is minding their own business, nor to fight unless it is necessary. I do not hold with many laws, but if I can achieve my goal without breaking them, then that is better. I feel good is good, but there is a time and place for evil. Both are necessary.” He drained his ale, and poured another. “Many will disagree with me, but an old druid I met when I was younger taught my father and I that balance is the goal.”

“In Vaasa I see evil everywhere – the beasts come from the mountains, and the clan of my father wages war on the innocent. This tells me evil has the upper hand, so now I fight against it. In a decade, who knows? I may fight against good – but never does Gutcleaver harm the innocent.” He drained the ale and filled it, then sat back, obviously finished.

Taliesin looked at Tess. Once more the little flutter went through her – she hoped he didn’t notice it with her sitting so close. She simply shrugged her shoulders.

“My father was a Ranger of Mielikki, defending this region, and my mother a druid and wizard from the local wood elven clan. I think that should answer you about my beliefs. Except that I have to agree with Keth – laws aren’t all that important except to control evil.”

The bard nodded. “I think with those views we can get along well, barring any racial prejudice. Talents and skills – those need to be spoken of. For me, as is obvious, I am a bard, and as a follower of Oghma I have specialized in the acquisition of knowledge. I speak Chondathan, Elven, Dwarven, Draconic, Illuskan, Orc, Goblin and Halfling. I’m a rather indifferent warrior – I can use my weapon, but that’s not my strength. I dabble in sorcery as most of my profession does, and one spell I do know is healing. I suppose my greatest talent is my voice and my “wit and charm,” as they generally call it.” He laughed as he finished.

“He’s got perhaps too much of that.” Milo broke in. “My brother is too modest – he can do all sorts of things, of course. Dad was always on to him to focus, but he just prefers to dabble in everything.” A sharp poke in the ribs from Taliesin reminded Milo he was supposed to be talking about himself. “Me – oh yeah, me. Well, I’m umm, real good with mechanical things – you know – traps and puzzles and umm, locks. I’ve got a real sharp eye – my dad said it’s “attention to detail” what counts. He taught me most everything he knew when he retired to Westgate. I’m not that much of a warrior either – though I’m a great shot with this – “(here he held up a drow-made hand crossbow) “my dad took it off an ambushing darkie on his last adventure. He told me he doesn’t rightly know why it didn’t disintegrate like all the other stuff they brought back. Anyways, I guess if somebody insists you could call me a rogue – I honestly just like to see what other people carry in their pockets. Umm, I think that’s all.”

Keth shifted in his chair, making the thing creak with protest under his huge bulk.

“I am a warrior, nothing more. I can move quietly when necessary, but my strength is in fighting – and not with skill. I have never needed that, my strength has always smashed my opponents down. I have skill in survival, but I am sure our ranger has much more. That is all I really have to offer.”

All eyes at the table went to Tess. She looked at Keth’s and Milo’s, but found herself looking at Taliesin’s chin instead – she didn’t want to blush again.

“My main skill is with my father’s longbow, though I can fight well enough with my swords. I have traveled throughout the Dales and in Sembia, taking some courses in Sembia on the use of two blades. I can move silently enough and hide well enough when needed, though I do feel awkward trying it in cities. I can keep myself alive indefinitely in the wild – I’ve never tried doing it in a group, but suppose it wouldn’t be much harder. Of course I can track an opponent, and as long as it’s not something I’ve never seen I can generally study spoor and prints and tell you what we’d be up against. I have a gift with animals, though I don’t seek one to accompany me – too dangerous. I finished my quest – killing my parent’s slayers, so I just figured it was time to move on.”

Taliesin drummed his fingers on the table and nodded. He took a sip of the wine he was drinking.

“It appears that between you and Keth we have the fighting aspect well-covered. My healing is indifferent, so I would propose, assuming we agree to associate, that before we leave we seek out what we lack. And I see us lacking in two areas – divine magic, in other words a cleric, and arcane magic – a wizard or true sorcerer. Without either we most certainly would be hampered, and find ourselves quite possibly talking with our respective gods much sooner than we would wish. It also wouldn’t hurt to try and find a fighter of skill – no offense to either of you, but a true trained fighter has some advantages neither of you possess.”

“There is no offense taken, Taliesin.” Tess and Keth looked at each other – they had spoken the same words at almost the same time. She shrugged, and then half-smiled at the half-orc. He smiled back.

“Then let’s split up for now – four ways, and begin our first quest – for new companions. Hmmm, I think a provisional name is in order – just for ourselves – the Company of the Seekers, how does that sound?”

There was no argument, and the four of them, having finished the wine and ale, left the tavern and went back to the crowded streets looking for the rest of their company.

To Be Continued...

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