The Whisperer in the Wind (Part 1)

A JP Written by Rosmary and Nim

The dawn broke hazily and a crisp wind whipped across the frothy sea and carried through the bedewed streets of the coastal capital of Osilon. In a small but well made house on the outskirts of the city, Solandriel the Gatherer contemplated the end of all that mattered to him as he knelt at the side of his comatose wife. The beneficiary of an elven lifespan, he had been around for a long time and experienced many seasons of comfort and certainty, and just as many of uncertainty and mourning. He had buried his own mother, been split apart from his father and sisters, beaten for failing to accomplish backbreaking tasks he wasn't properly equipped to achieve, treated like dirt by people he was forced to show respect, and struggled for survival in a harsh, uncaring world for years that seemed to stretch endlessly. Yet never before had he felt the kind of despair he did now.

Gerda had become the greatest single love of his life, and he had grown to deeply depend on her. They never had much, but they had always had each other. But now she was at death's door, unresponsive to the world, and her soul supposedly locked away in a terrible place.

If her spirit could not be restored to her body he did not know how he could possibly go on. For without her he'd have nothing. No resources, no direction, no meaning. And he had no idea what to do about it.

However, there was one thing he did know with absolute, unwavering certainty. Necromancy was not the answer. Necromancy was pure evil. One had only to battle ravenous, flesh-eating zombies who had once been good decent people to appreciate that.

Given their blithe disregard for these stomach churning, soul-crushing horrors, his new colleagues had obviously not been on the receiving end of a necromancer's wrath before, that was for sure. It was unspeakably awful, and heroic folk like them had no business dealing with such vile fiends. No, there had to be an alternative and he just had to find it...

Solandriel looked down at the lifeless mask of Gerda's noble face and felt the walls closing in around him. He needed to get some air. Shedding one last tear for his seemingly doomed wife, he rose unsteadily to his feet, tied on his walking sandals, slipped out of the house that Mister Le Renard had graciously let them crash at after the devastating events of the previous day, and headed off into the city.

...

“Where does he think he's going?” Shel groused in a surly, accusatory tone as the door clicked shut behind the elf.

“Where is who going?” Kalena asked, distracted. She was polishing off a third glass of brandy with her high-protein breakfast of kippers and eggs and was slightly intoxicated, her voice a little slurred.

“Solandriel,” Shel said, moving to the window to watch him walking away. “He just up and left the house!”

“So?” Kalena replied, not overly concerned.

"So we should all be lying low,” Shel explained. “The authorities have descriptions out for us, and that army captain on the road knew Solandriel by name. In the distraught state he's in he's liable to get himself arrested."

Sighing in agreement, Kalena patted her mouth with a napkin. “And with everything else on our plate the last thing we need right now is to have to break Solandriel out of gaol.”

“I'll go after him,” Shel volunteered, heading for the front door.

“No, I will. I could do with a constitutional,” Kalena said. She set her brandy glass on the table and gingerly stood from her chair, careful not to jostle her splinted arm that lay in a sling uselessly across her chest. “Besides, if the authorities are on the lookout for us I'm a good deal less conspicuous than you are.”

The seven foot tall half-orc conceded the point with a nod and then looked back out the window. “If you're going to catch him you better hurry up. He is almost out of sight.”

With her good arm, Kalena donned her fine sable cloak that fastened at the throat and that would afford protection against the early morning chill. Shel quickly helped her straighten it and to put on her ornate swordbelt. The belt contained her scabbarded sabre, a matching black mithril fighting dagger, and her small velvet coin purse. She did not bother taking her elegant recurve bow, which she could hardly shoot one-handed.

“Which way was he headed?” Kalena asked as she stepped out onto the front porch.

Shel gestured in the direction the elf had gone. “The long way into the city that runs by the temple.”

“Perhaps he intends to enlist one of the priests there?” Kalena said with an uninterested shrug.

Shade noticed Kalena was going out. “Do you want to help me find a new body now?”

“Uh, why don’t we try to do that this evening?” she told the shadow demon, summoning a smile to hide her lack of enthusiasm. “Probably sometime after dark would be best. I have other fish to fry at the moment.”

“What other fish? Where are you going?”

“Just for a walk. I shan’t be gone long.”

Kalena briskly started down the road after Solandriel, fully expecting to catch up to him in but a few moments. However this was not to be. Finding no hide nor hair of him at the end of the block, she increased the pace of her stride and hastened down the tight, narrow streets, looking up and down them for any sign of the distressed husband, but soon realised that she had lost him among the other early morning pedestrians.

With her irritation steadily rising, her broken arm started to throb dully. She leaned against the corner of a building to rest a moment where she debated whether or not to double back and more thoroughly check the alleys she passed that Solandriel might have ducked into or to instead continue into the city proper where she perhaps might run into Lafayette and V who could join the search for the missing elf.

Kalena was spared from making a decision when she spied a shadow cast on the road ahead of her that seemed off. Most would not have noticed the way it was inconsistent with the line of the wall, but due to her rigorous training as an assassin she knew how to perfectly blend into backgrounds and the way different light sources played upon a physical form. Had Shade followed her in broad daylight? She strode silently toward the narrow alley with her good hand resting on the hilt of her sheathed dagger in case it was some skull sapper waiting to catch a victim unawares.

She found Solandriel standing with his back to her at the alley's mouth. “What is it you think you're doing?” she said harshly, coming up behind him. “Do you want to get yourself captured by the authorities?”

Kalena’s sudden appearance startled the elf and he jumped and turned around. “Kalena! Was it you calling me just now?”

Her eyes blinked. “What? No. Why?”

“I thought I heard someone calling my name off in the distance. It was very faint and I wondered if it might be Gerda. Or maybe I'm starting to crack up.”

“It's a distinct possibility,” Kalena replied, seeing his haggard look. “Why don't you come back to the house and try to get some rest? I’m sure you hardly slept last night.”

He nodded, then frowned. "But if you are not calling to me…"

Suddenly, a soft voice that seemed to carry on the breeze audibly whispered, "Sol, keep going, you are so close."

“Don't tell me you didn't hear that!” Solandriel turned and tore off into the alley.

“No, wait—” Kalena said belatedly, before letting out a curse and giving chase.

She indeed had heard the mysterious voice and so knew that Solandriel's mind was not playing tricks on him. But if someone was truly calling him her only guess as to who it might be was one of the surviving assassin team from the warehouse, in which case Solandriel was heading straight into a trap!

The alley ran between two large tenement buildings whose boundaries were separated by low brick fences. Stray mangy dogs lay among piles of noisome refuse and white and grey seagulls pecked at the remains of people's dinner, thrown out windows above. The startled mutts barked and the birds scattered into the air with a chorus of squawks as Solandriel and Kalena raced by.

The alley turned and turned again and Kalena gritted her teeth, supporting her broken arm with her good one as she endeavored to keep pace with the frantic, fleet-footed elf. Seeing him disappear around another corner, she hurriedly followed after him and in the process nearly collided with Solandriel's back when he abruptly stopped in his tracks. They were at the edge of a curious small garden surrounded by ramshackle buildings in the middle of which were two very old gnarled trees. Solandriel's attention, however, was locked onto a quite familiar white haired figure standing just ahead facing them.

"Maelwin!" Solandriel exclaimed.

The fey elf raised a long finger to his lips. "It would be best if you kept it down a notch, old friend. I am not supposed to be here."