Stefan's bedroom door burst open, and Lord Kaelin stood framed in the doorway, his expression wild and ferocious, like a beast limping on its prey. The two girls, startled by the thunderous roar, scrambled to gather their clothes, covering their sensitive parts as they hastily made their escape. The room was a testament to the debauchery of the previous night, with clothes and bedding scattered everywhere, and the air thick with the scent of wine and excess.
The room itself was a grand affair, with high ceilings and large windows that let in a flood of sunlight, illuminating the disarray. The walls were adorned with rich tapestries, and the floor was covered in a plush carpet, soft and inviting. But the elegance of the room was lost amidst the chaos of the previous night's indulgences.
Stefan, the object of Lord Kaelin's ire, woke up slowly, his eyes still half-asleep, stretching his arms above his head as he yawned. He was a handsome young man, with chiseled features and a strong jawline, his hair mussed from sleep. But his good looks were lost on Lord Kaelin, who saw only the foolishness of his son's actions.
"Good morning, dad," Stefan greeted, his voice still husky from sleep.
"What's so good about the morning, you idiot!!" Lord Kaelin roared, his voice echoing off the walls. "Look at the fool the Order is placing their plans on!" Lord Kaelin cried, his worry and fear palpable.
With that, Lord Kaelin turned and strode out of the room, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. "Put on your clothes and come down to the living room, we have something important to discuss," he called back over his shoulder, his voice firm and commanding.
As he stormed out of the room, his face was a picture of worry and fear, his mind racing with the implications of his son's actions. The scene was one of drama and tension, the air thick with the weight of Lord Kaelin's anger and disappointment.
Stefan strode down the stairs, tying up his robes made of sleek silk that screamed luxury. The fabric shimmered in the light, showcasing intricate embroidery and a subtle sheen that hinted at the finest quality. His robes were a deep, rich blue, perfectly complementing his chiseled features and strong jawline. A golden belt cinched at his waist, adorned with a small, glittering gemstone that sparkled as he moved.
"Dad, I'm here. So, what's so important that couldn't wait until I finished my affairs?" Stefan said, strolling into the room with an air of nonchalance. His eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief, and his dark hair was perfectly styled, framing his handsome face.
Lord Kaelin's eyes fixed on his son, his expression a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. "Why did the gods have to curse me with an idiot as a son?" he thought to himself, shaking his head in dismay.
"Sit!" Lord Kaelin's voice was strained and hard, his eyes flashing with a hint of anger.
Stefan sat casually, his movements graceful and fluid, his eyes never leaving his father's face.
"You'll be joining me for the king's ball party in the next coming four moons," Lord Kaelin said coolly, his voice devoid of emotion. "And I'll present you as a suitor seeking the King's daughter, Princess Olivia's hand in marriage."
Stefan's eyes widened in shock, his face pale. "What!!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with disbelief. "What do you mean by getting married? Princess!? I've never even seen her once, and now you're talking about marriage... how do..."
Lord Kaelin cut him short, his voice firm. "I only said I'll present you as a suitor. We don't know if you'll be accepted yet. Even I doubt the princess would pick an idiot like you," he murmured to himself, his eyes rolling in disbelief.
Stefan's face contorted in confusion, stress, and worry. His eyes darted around the room, as if searching for an escape from the sudden turn of events.
"So, get ready. We'll be leaving in the next four moons," Lord Kaelin said, his voice final. With that, he turned and strode out of the room, leaving Stefan sitting in stunned silence.
The air was heavy with tension, the weight of Lord Kaelin's words hanging like a dark cloud over Stefan's head. The once-confident young man now sat, his face etched with worry and fear, his mind racing with the implications of his father's announcement.
Aria and Kael pushed open the creaky doors of the Golden Griffin Tavern, stepping into a warm, lively atmosphere. The air was thick with the aroma of roasting meats, freshly brewed ale, and the hum of lively conversations. Patrons of all shapes and sizes filled the wooden tables and chairs, their faces aglow with laughter and camaraderie.
As they made their way to the bar, the sounds of clinking mugs, clattering dishes, and raucous laughter enveloped them. Aria and Kael slid onto two vacant stools, their eyes scanning the bustling tavern. Behind the bar, Grimbold, the gruff but amiable bartender, polished a mug with a dirty apron, his piercing gaze fixed on the duo.
"What can I get ye?" Grimbold asked, his voice like a rusty gate.
"I'm looking for someone," Kael said, "his name is Liam."
Grimbold's expression turned skeptical, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. He gave Kael a look that said, "If you're not buying anything, you're not getting any information."
Aria, quick to catch on, intervened with a warm smile. "We'll have two mugs of your finest ale and a plate of Chicken wings, please."
Grimbold's demeanor softened, and he nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Coming right up!"
He expertly poured two mugs of ale from a foamy keg, the golden liquid glistening in the flickering candlelight. The aroma of roasted hops and sweet malts wafted up, enticing their senses. Aria and Kael raised their mugs in a silent toast, taking a sip of the creamy, slightly bitter ale. The flavors danced on their tongues, refreshing and invigorating.
Grimbold returned with a steaming plate of buffalo wings, the spicy aroma making their mouths water. The crispy, juicy wings were tossed in a tangy sauce, leaving a satisfying tingle on their taste buds.
As they savored their snacks, the conversations around them became more distinct. A group of merchants in the corner discussed the upcoming royal ball, their voices laced with excitement and envy.
"...only the wealthiest are getting invited, I heard," one merchant said, his voice tinged with resentment. "Lord Thrain's army may have been defeated, but his influence still lingers. Only those with the deepest pockets will be gracing the royal court."
Aria and Kael exchanged a knowing glance, their minds still focused on finding Liam. They leaned in, their voices low and conspiratorial, as they continued their inquiry with Grimbold.
"Do you know anyone by the name of Liam?" Aria asked, her eyes locked on the bartender.
Grimbold's expression turned thoughtful, his gaze drifting toward the tavern's entrance. "Now that ye mention it, I might know a thing or two about a certain Liam..."
Grimbold's voice was low and mysterious, his words painting a picture of Liam's enigmatic character. "Liam... he's been here a couple of times, a quiet feller. He doesn't say much, once done with his ale, he ventures off to quest in search of treasures or rare items to sell to merchants." The bartender's eyes seemed to glaze over, lost in thought, as he continued, "There was this one time he seemed interested when I told him about some strange folks lurking around town, called the Order of the Black Oaks."
Aria and Kael exchanged a knowing look, their eyes locking in a silent understanding. They refocused on Grimbold, their attention piqued. The tavern's bustling atmosphere surrounded them, the sounds of clinking mugs, raucous laughter, and clattering dishes creating a lively symphony. Patrons of all shapes and sizes filled the wooden tables and chairs, their faces aglow with merriment and camaraderie.
The air was thick with the aroma of roasting meats, freshly brewed ale, and the sweet scent of pipeweed. Candles flickered, casting a warm, golden glow over the tavern, as the fire crackled in the hearth. The atmosphere was alive, electric, and full of possibility.
Aria's voice cut through the din, her question clear and concise. "So, where do you think we can find him?"
Grimbold's gaze drifted toward the tavern's entrance, his eyes squinting slightly. "Just go to the side of town where merchants who buy and sell rare items usually gather. You'll find the person you're looking for there. He'd be selling rare items or seeking another quest in search of them."
As Grimbold finished speaking, a commotion erupted at the other end of the bar. A patron, clearly inebriated, stumbled, his mug shattering on the floor. Grimbold's voice boomed, his tone firm but friendly, "Don't break that glass, friend! You've had enough for tonight!"
Aria nodded her thanks, and Grimbold acknowledged with a nod. With that, Aria and Kael strode out of the tavern, into the cool evening air, their quest for Liam continuing. The sounds of the tavern faded into the distance, replaced by the quiet murmur of the town's evening activities.