The morning light was bright and clean as Luenor moved through Eclion's square, taking stock of everything they now held—barrels of grain and salt, crates of arrows and blades, piles of salvaged gold and silver. Thalanar stood beside him, his calm eyes sweeping over the scattered supplies.
The m
"We have more than enough to rebuild twice," Thalanar said softly. "It's just a matter of being wise."
Luenor nodded, staring out into the new homes that had sprung up around the square; ramshackle lodgings mades from rough logs and canvas roofs for the freed miners that didn't have a home. Already some had little gardens, others were mending broken fences with worn hands.
"That will be the least of our concerns," Luenor said quietly. "We will not just be rebuilding; we will be expanding. We need to build Eclion to be a strong, independent community."
He turned to the small group he had gathered: Hunter, Arwin, Faren, and Dion. Each was resolute, and their faces were solemn, though Dion was excited.
"We will take some of the mana stones," Luenor said. "We will sell them to Mira's buyer's; we will buy what we need-- stone, timber, nails, bricks; if we can find food we will include food. And we will bring it back to Eclion."
Thalanar nodded. "I will take care of the mines," he said. "The bandits will work, under watch. We will start digging new tunnels, new homes."
The following morning, the sun met a cold, grey sky. Luenor said a few quiet goodbyes to Rhea, who fussed over him like a mother hen, until finally he promised to take care of himself.
And then they were off—Luenor, Hunter, Arwin, Faren, Dion and Mira; who walked in silence with her hands still bound. No one really trusted Mira, but with Hunter at her side, she wouldn't dare anything foolish.
As they approached the town—Hallowridge as Mira called it—Faren's eyes grew wide. The towering stone walls with their arched gates were nothing like the undeveloped wooden houses of Eclion or their old village in Fort Gelran.
"I've never seen anything like this," he muttered in a mix of awe and suspicion.
Luenor adjusted the heavy cloak on his shoulders and steeled himself for the sights and sounds which, though familiar, were different. "Stay close," Luenor said quietly. "And do not draw attention."
Mira snorted. "They won't look twice at him," she said. She nodded at Arwin, "He's a sellsword, not an elf, or famous boy."
Hunter narrowed his eyes, but did not say anything, yet his hand did not stray far from the hilt of his sword.
They arrived at the gates in time to see the dusk color the evening sky in deep purple and red bruises. The guards—young men wearing worn chainmail—discounted them with expectant boredom.
"What's yer business?" one asked, as if only half interested.
Mira stepped forward, voice smooth. "Trade, just trade."
The guard snorted. "These days, trade can be expensive."
Arwin tossed him a small bag of coin, with Luenor glaring at Arwin for giving away a whole pouch. Arwin just shrugged. "That's how it works here." The guard held it in one hand for a few seconds, then shrugged and motioned for them to proceed.
Inside, Hallowridge was a city of narrow alleys and broad streets, of tall stone towers, and bustling marketplaces. Vendors cried their goods from stands draped in colorful fabric, and the air was infused with the smell of roasted meats, fragrant pastries, bitter iron and sweat.
Mira took them walking down a winding alley, her feet never checking. "This is the spot," she said flatly. "They always met me here. But I never saw their faces, just gloved hands, always in the shadows."
Luenor frowned. "And you never bothered to ask who they worked for?"
Mira's eyes flared with annoyance. "Did I even dare? They offered gold and never once asked questions. I was only interested in the gold."
They made it to the rendezvous; it was an old stone warehouse with only one iron door. Luenor watched as Mira took in the heavy lock and the shadows hiding deep in the alley.
Luenor glanced up at Faren and said, "I need to look older."
Faren arched an eyebrow but knelt down and let Luenor scramble onto his broad shoulders. Luenor draped the cloak over both their shoulders, the woolly material hiding the boy under the tall elf.
"You really want to do this?" Faren whispered.
Luenor's eyes danced. "It's time they saw more than just a boy, but Alfrenzo."
Hunter and Arwin exchanged small smirks as they eased to either side of the cloaked figure. Mira rolled her eyes but said nothing, her shoulders tensed as she waited.
Hunter leaned toward Luenor, who was transformed into the towering form of "Alfrenzo," and spoke under his breath, "What exactly will you tell them, boy?"
Clearing his throat, Luenor tried to deepen his voice to fit the illusion of size and shadow, saying in a steady voice: "I will say that the mines have a new master. That I defeated the bandits and took Mira prisoner. But I don't intend to interfere with the goods going out—only in ensuring that the gold comes in."
Humoring the tale for amusement, Hunter allowed a small smile to touch his lips. "A daring tale," he said. "And if they wish to put this new master to the test?"
"Then you will show them," Luenor said, still in quiet calm, "just a little pinch of your wrath, just enough so that they get the message… but not enough to start a war."
Hunter gave a steady glance back. "Agreed."
Mira shifted at the sound of boots on stone, her face tightening. "They're here," she said shortly.