Some days later Elysia was done with the translations. Boron read the text and exclaimed: “Velen must know this! Rusty, please, take this text to Prophet Velen in the Exodar.” Now it was my time to loose my colour: “Me. The Prophet. Oh no. I can’t.” “And why not, may I ask,” was Boron’s gruff reply. “Are you not hale of life and limb.” I tried to tell Vindicator Boron that I felt unworthy to go before The Prophet, but he waved me off. “You’re the best we have, and also the only one. Get going already, lass!”
So off I went. I dared not trust my legs. This time I paid Laando his 99 coppers to rent a hippogryph. It was a nice ride. My hair flew in the winds and the view was just great. I passed the murloc encampment where Murgurgula’s minions had come close to costing me my life. And then the Exodar loomed ahead. I almost jumped off the hippogryph from shock as it flew inside instead of landing gently outside. The wings nearly touched the walls and I crouched low so as not to bump my head. The flight ended just outside the bank. I got my shaking legs to the ground. The hippogryph master noticed my white face and asked me if the going had been rough outside. I answered with a shaky smile and voice: “No, only inside. Laando did not tell me you flew into the Exodar nowadays.” He smiled and said that there was too much noise outside, what with pilgrim’s feast, Spring fling and all kinds of festivals, that had come to the Isles lately. “The hippogryphs have to sleep, you know.” I nodded agreeing and went on.
After this crazy flight the last thing I felt up to, was an audience with The Prophet. But I had to. I went up the shiny, golden stairs and asked one of the servants if I could speak with Prophet Velen. He eyed my worn outfit and my slender frame. Then his eyes fell on the hilt of my well-worn sword and I saw his looks change a bit. He told me that I could wait here for some minutes, while he saw to the details. Well there was no getting out now. I tried to polish my shoes by rubbing them on the back of my trousers, but to no avail. My whole gear was threadbare and dusty. The servant called my name and lead me on to the Prophet. I delivered my best bow and told him my name. He asked me to state my business and I held out the original missive together with Elysia’s translation, while giving the short resume of the happenings, which I had been practising all the way. The servant took the papers and handed them to him. He read, and I stood waiting. He made small, strange noises while reading, and re-read several passages. Then he turned away to his writing stand, wrote a short note and sealed it. “Rustypal, take this letter back to vindicator Boron. He will see to your reward.” Then the audience was over, I bowed and backed off like Matron had told us long ago. I bet I saw the Prophet smile at my antics.
Audience with Prophet Velen |
After a short rest on a bench out of sight of anybody, I went to Yil’s armour shop. I really needed a new suit of mail. He had just the right thing for me, It fit like it was made for me and it was strong, yet flexible. My dream armour in short. But alas, my meagre savings were not enough for even half the armour, including the exchange price of my old, which admittedly was very worn. I bade Yil hide it so that I could have a chance saving up for it. He hung it in a dark corner of his shop, behind more colourful, but less functional gear. “Some go for bling,” he said smiling at me. I smiled back and left. On the way out a large shield caught my eyes. Yil saw me looking at it and told me the price. I’m sure he set it low enough to be a temptation to me. I bought it, and ran a caressing hand over its hard metal surface. Not a scratch, not a weak spot. “You’d like to see this customer return,” I teased Yil. “Yes,” he answered, “that and I like your spunk, gal. Stay alive out there.”
Trading with Yil. |
In-game notes: Level 16
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