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The Inn. | by ElderonEldar
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The Inn.

“Seriously Deiros, do you do anything else than drink that horrid fluid?” said Fay with a look of digust on her face.

“I’m not sure why you would mind, I’m the one standing up with a head like a brick each morning,” Deiros replies, wiping off a few drops of ale from his chin.

An excited man shows up at the door, he’s holding some sort of parchment, bearing an official seal of the High Lord Wenseclaus.

“Hear ye, hear ye! To keep all warriors of Lenfald physically fit and ready for battle, the high Lord has ordered Dueling competitions to be held thoughout Lenfald. Enter as a champion and make an attempt for the esteemed prize!” the announcer said with a most formal voice.

Fay and Deiros looked at Velaryon, of the three easy the best swordfighter.

“Well what do you say? It’s been a while since you showed off your swordplay,” Deiros asked, looking intently at Velaryon.

Velaryon looked a bit insecure at them.

“I don’t know. Won’t it send of the wrong message to the people? I don’t want to be seen as the heir of Strongborough anymore,” Velaryon replied with a hint of hesitation in his voice.

“That’s simple, we’ll just get you another armor. Hey!” Fay yelled at the innkeeper, “Innkeeper, where is the closest blacksmith?”

The innkeeper looked at her with a look that most elves get from men, and it’s not a nice look.

“Next door, he only makes armor and swords so you’ll be set with him.”

The announcer remained in the door opening, apparently he wasn’t done yet.

Announcer: “It is also announced that the search for the sword of Karlamac is once more begun! He who finds it must return it to the King of Roawia himself.”

The innkeeper began laughing, apparently he knew something more. Velaryon looked at him and wondered.

“Innkeeper, do you know anything about this sword?” he asked after he thought it over a bit.

“Only that it’s supposed to lay somewhere around here. The last owner, some sort of Duke sent his most trusted warrior to keep it safe. This warrior stayed in this very tavern before he vanished along with the sword,” the man replied, a mysterious smile crept across his face.

Velaryon wondered if this could mean that the sword was indeed close.

“I know someone who saw it though,” said the innkeeper.

This surprised Velaryon and his friends.

“Who is this man?”

“The blacksmith next door.”


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Taken on July 23, 2012