<b>At the Blacksmith.</b><br/><br/>The dark figure clad in an cape bearing a symbol and colours that could only be identified as servants of the Queen strode gracefully forward into the steamy hot room of the Blacksmith. The figure's steps were hesitant, almost as if she feared the man she was approaching. When his rough words had reached her ears, the young woman lowered her mantle and revealed herself to be a female messenger of Queen Lanthra herself.<br/><br/>''I'm sorry sir, for interrupting your work. My name is Allesandra, and I was send to summon you to the Queens forges. Her majesty has a request of a sword worthy of one of her finest warriors to be made. The details of the length, width and weight are written on this parchment, as well as the supplies that stand ready for you at the Royal forges of the castle. She was very specific to call upon your aid once she heard you were in town. She wants the sword to be the finest work of the Moonsmith, and is willing to pay you royally for it.''<br/><br/>The lithe young woman cast her eyes down to the ground, biting her lip as if she almost wished it would help it prevent quivering at the sight of the enormous dvergar before her. Not many of his kind ever ventured beyond the great walls of the mountain they resided in, and even fewer ever showed their face in a town that thrived in the middle of the desert. The young elf had never seen one in her life before, which was clear by the way she clutched to her cape and the gilded parchment in her hands.<br/><br/>''Would you be so kind to follow me back to the castle sir?''<br/><br/>-----------------------------------<br/><b><br/>
The queen.</b><br/><br/>Lanthra watched her dear friend take her hand and cup her ear against it. The wizened elf felt her mouth twitch upwards in a smile that she had hidden for a long time underneath the mask of pleasantries and royal courtesy that was expected from a woman of her stature. Even know, as she felt the rough calloused skin of her former lover send shivers up her spine with each stroke over her soft skin, she did not know what to say or how to act. She, a woman that was able to rule the kingdoms of elven for over more than 7 millennia, did not know what to do with a rogue adventurer she had missed more than she was willing to admit.<br/><br/>When that mischievous, yet longing look of Kali settled upon her face, Lanthra felt her knees go weak and her voice leave her throat. Her free hand shot up to her neck, as her fingers toyed with the golden droplets that hung from the fabric around her shoulders. She heard what Kali said, and even though she could not let the woman get to her as quickly as she had already accomplished, she was as lost for words as on the day that her copper skinned friend had left her.<br/><br/>''I'm married now''<br/><br/>The words hung in the air like an angry wasp buzzing around a frightened victim. It was as if the weather had agreed to break all hell loose above the city of Meanwor to emphasize the grim and dark consequences of their merry meeting now Lanthra had revealed that simple fact. Thunder, soon followed by lightning, lid up the room in a flash of bright white light. Just enough for them both to see the sadness in Lanthra's eyes and the reaction of Kali.<br/><br/>------------------------<br/><b><br/>
Up in the sky, Captains cabin.</b><br/><br/>A laugh, so evil, so drenched with an insanity had risen up from the throat of the imposter that had called herself Esserea. The elf relaxed upon the table as she licked the corner of her lip, her eyes rolling to all sides of the room before they finally rested upon Darions face.<br/><br/>''Who are you really? Who are you really? Who are you really?''<br/><br/>Esserea sing-sang the words, each time putting an emphasis on a different syllable, almost as if she tasted the letters like a delicacy unknown to her. She bobbed her head from side to side, just enough to make it visible that she seemed to move along with it, on the rhythm of her teasing little singing game. Nevertheless, she did not answer, but bid her time as her hands silently retracted daggers from the sheets hidden underneath her sleeves.<br/><br/>''Who are you, Darion?''<br/><br/>With those words, she shot up her hand, holding a dagger between her fingers and her palm and directed it towards the man's heart. Only to cry out in pain from the sudden flash of crackling magic that shot up from a very angry W'ineton, that had finally come out of her alcohol-induced slumber. Not that she had been sleeping, she had just been watching the entire scene. Horrified and petrified to the bone, that her dearest friend, someone she had known and loved for many years, had not been what she had seemed to be. That W'ineton, a powerful mage had not recognised the obvious signs that had been there this entire time.<br/><br/>Nevertheless, she was awake now, and had charred the imposing elves hand to black remains, with the dagger falling useless on the ground. Which had not taken away the danger yet, seeing as Esserea still held a second dagger in her other hand, ready to strike. And W'ineton distracted by the sudden deep menacing growling noises from behind her, as the demon-hound from hell stood ready to strike....<br/><br/>------------<br/><br/>As Eira came upon the slick wet fingers of the young Aviari, both women would hear the sudden thunderstorm raging above their heads. The striking lightning that not only lid up the sky in a bright white light that peeked through the cracks and nookies of the ship, also messed with any magic currently working close by. Which resulted in both women returning back to their normal selves, and perhaps realizing the sudden  dangers of the change of weather outside...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>