As vision returned to Aurial, she had to fight the urge to vomit. The world spun as she attempted to sit up. She could feel her hair matted to her head and the twisted blankets about her legs. As her body ceased trying to make her return to unconsciousness, she looked over and saw Armyd mixing some dried herbs into a pot over the fire. His face was pale and drawn, dark circles under his eyes.
"How long," she croaked, her parched throat closing with the attempt to talk.
"Drink this," the man said, handing her a battered tin cup with some sort of tea inside. The scent of mint and cinnamon wafted in the steam drifting up. "You have been asleep for nearly four hours. This will help you overcome the nausea. It has hazelthorn and goldroot in it."
As she sipped the tea, mind searching for the uses of the plants he had named. As she recalled the herbs her mother and aunt had used for minor illnesses in her childhood, the nausea began fading quickly. She looked down and saw several bandages wrapped around her arm, traces of a poultice around the edges.
"What happened?" she asked, trying to remember what had made her pass out. Her arm still ached, but the fire that had flowed through her body was no longer present.
"You were scratched by a hobgoblin," said the wolf. "Their claws contain a rather strong paralytic. You were fortunate that the old man here knows a little about herbs, otherwise we'd be hauling you to a healer for help. As it is, you'll have a few scars, but nothing worse."
Armyd took the cup from her, pouring a small amount more in. "When you finish that, we'll start out for the day."
She sipped at the tea, looking at the mage as he smothered the fire and began packing the few items he carried into his saddlebags.
The wolf turned his ice-blue eyes onto her. "So what's your story?" the wry voice asked as he flicked his tail once.
"I'm just along for the trip," she said, wiping sweat from her brow. "He saved me from a bunch of ruffians back in Seveant. I figured that now was as good a time as any to head out to see the world. Seemed like it'd be safer to go with him."
The wolf began chuckling. "Following him for safety?" As the laughs rolled from his muzzle, the wolf closed his eyes and seemed to grin at a private joke. "Most usually give this one a wide berth! A vagabond is rarely safer than a town!" He kept huffing in laughter.
"Tsirion, unless you have any more information to impart, I would suggest that you head out and do whatever it is you do when you aren't pestering me." The man walked over and felt Aurial's forehead. "Her fever is gone, and she should be ready to travel soon. We're heading into Brannen tonight, and I'd like to get there before those clouds drop their rain on us."
"Got big plans?" the wolf said wryly.
Aurial sipped at her tea. It made sense to her to head there, especially considering what had happened. Brannen was a town of great wealth, the home to the Merchant's Guild and composed mainly of nobles. It also housed the Guildhall of the Magisters, those that focused their studies on healing magicks.
"I need to replenish some supplies and the Magisters are the only people in the area that would have them. I also have to speak with her and see Alistresian about that last missive he sent me." He picked up his saddlebags and set them by his mount. "I would like to leave within the hour," he said. "Let me know if you want help packing your things. By nightfall, you should be as right as rain."
She began to fold her bedroll, swiping her hair behind her shoulders. "What would you need from the Magisters?" she asked, wondering if the 'her' he had referred to was a Magister.
"There are several beings that defy nature in this world. The healers of the Magisters Guild have herbs grown that are used in potions that would be rather invaluable to lone adventurers. If you plan on surviving, they are imperative to have. There is also an item I have to pick up from an old friend."
The elf tried to hoist her saddlebag up onto her horse's withers, but stopped as the pain in her arm flared up. She shifted it to her other hand while she glanced down at the wolf. "Is he coming with us?"
The mage lifted her saddle onto her roan and began to fasten the buckles. "I actually prefer not taking him into larger cities. He creates a bit too much trouble."
"One time I sneak into a dance house, and I never hear the end of it." The wolf shook his head.
"It wouldn't have been that big of a deal if you were still an Elf at the time," the mage deadpanned back.
"Sure, blame the wolf," Tsirion said in a wounded voice. He looked at Aurial as she swung up into her saddle.
"You are still a little green," he said. "But that was some decent work earlier. You may survive just yet."
Aurial started to reply when the wolf turned and loped off into the underbrush.
Armyd climbed into his saddle. "Come on," he said, urging his horse on. "It's four hours to Brannen from here and I don't think those clouds are going to wait."
She glanced back at the woods as she flicked her reins.
"Are all your friends this odd?" she asked.
She only got a shrug in reply.
***
The rain began to thunder down almost as soon as they left the protection of the forest canopy, slowing their progress. Soaked and weary, the two travelers entered the gates of the town almost five hours later and made for a well-made inn for lodgings after stabling their horses.
The rough hewn logs of the exterior were worn smooth by wind and rain, and the planks leading to the door smoothed by countless feet traversing their lengths. But any thoughts of crudeness were dashed when one entered the common room, paneled with rich mahogany boards on the walls and ceiling while the floor was covered with well-waxed teak beams. The bar was made out of several slabs of marble and lined with oak. A raised wooden stage held a bard strumming the strings of a harp, her voice winging out over the clamor of the crowd without being obnoxious.
Aurial just gaped at the place as she lowered her hood. The mere appearance of this place reminds her of the home she had grown up in with its elegance, even though it clearly followed more traditional human designs than Elven. As Armyd went over to the barkeeper to purchase rooms, she scanned the crowd carefully. A few had glanced their way but had returned to their own affairs after a brief look. No one else really seemed to care that they had come here half-drenched, though from the size of the taproom and the number of kegs behind the bar she guessed this was a popular alehouse as well.
She returned her attention to her companion just in time to see him set down four silver coins on the bar. The barkeep's meaty hand had scooped them up almost as soon as they had landed. Handing over blackened iron keys, the barkeep motioned at the stairs, saying something that was lost in the murmur of the crowd.
Armyd nodded and returned to the Elf's side, holding out one of the keys. "I managed to get us adjoining rooms. They're preparing some hot water for a bath, so let's go get settled in."
Aurial nodded, following the man upstairs and opened the door he pointed to, dropping her saddlebags onto the floor and shutting the door before the room's appearance registered with her.
A large four-posted bed dominated one side of the room, down quilts folded across its foot. A modest metal basin sat against one wall, an opaque changing screen folded and tucked against the wall next to it, several towels draped over it. A modest desk with several quills and inkwells shared a wall with a wardrobe, both seemingly carved of ebony wood. A vanity was tucked into a corner, a porcelain pitcher and basin sitting on its broad surface.
She stared in amazement for a few moments, then went for the door that adjoined the two rooms, stepping through to the mage's quarters.
"Any reason you got these expensive rooms?" she asked as she entered, but froze as he looked at her, shirt unbuttoned halfway.
He sighed and shook his head. "You grew up in a family of no minor import," he said as he peeled the soaking shirt from his body and draped it across the edge of the changing screen. Several scars covered his body, pale white marks against the general tanned hue of his skin. "And yet knocking on a door apparently never made it into your upbringing. What, pray tell, would you have done had I been stripped bare?" His voice held the tone of a parent talking to a rambunctious youth.
She flushed suddenly, realizing that she was acting like a child without manners. She also realized that she was still in her sopping garments, dripping everywhere. "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I only wanted to know why you got these rooms."
"To get rooms like this for four nights for two silver crowns apiece is a good deal when the truly lavish rooms can cost near to five gold marks a night. I also have an agreement with the innkeeper, since I pass through here rather frequently. He holds a few items for me that are too large to cart around, and giving him an extra few marks for the adjoining room was a fair price for keeping the room reserved. All in all, four silver crowns for a few days of rest and peace is worth that much in my mind."
Aurial gaped at the mage. Even with her noble upbringing, the price of two silver crowns was still expensive to her mind, doubly so considering the humble life she led now. A loaf of bread would cost five copper pennies at even the most expensive of markets. The most she had ever seen in her lifetime at once was thirty gold crowns.
Armyd looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"You know you're dripping everywhere, right?"
The Elf girl sighed and retreated to her room, slamming the door closed.