the citizens of Mindon were quite physically active. Before they arrived at this particular recreational facility, Gideon and Laurelin passed two public library facilities with a lot of foot traffic across the entrances.
The pair then passed through the doors to the one of the inner lobbies of the huge recreation facility. "What's water skelt?" asked Gideon.
"It is a game played by many races," said Laurelin, and she smiled. "It involves swimming in a pool of water and trying to place a small spherical object into your opponents' holding net. It is a team sport and can be tiring, but it is exhilarating. I should know. I've been on a champion-level team from Eamondir for the past fifty years."
"Wow," replied Gideon. "Wait…did you say fifty years? Just how old are you?"
"Old enough to know that a gentleman should not ask that question," answered Laurelin with a warm smile, "nor a lady answer it."
She then showed Gideon the proper passage that would lead him to the male changing and washing areas. She went down another passage toward the females' area. In the washing area, Gideon showered and paid for a shave in a barber’s alcove. He prepared his clean, new undergarments. Just prior to showering, he decided to arrange to have his other clothes washed for a small fee. Just over an hour later, Gideon reemerged from the washing area, clean and refreshed with clean clothes.
Laurelin was waiting for him in the lobby and reading some printed pamphlet when he came out.
"Now, Finelen, you look much better clean and shaven," she said. "Come along, our clothes should be almost ready to be picked up at the tailor's."
While they were in the shop, Gideon decided to purchase another set of trousers and an elven-style shirt, as well as a silver-colored cap with a feather in it. The additional cost was twenty gold sovereigns. He wanted another set of clothes. Gideon came out of the tailor shop wearing his new shirt, trousers, and doublet. He looked admiringly at Laurelin, who had put on knee-length shorts that showed her lower legs quite nicely. Laurelin placed her additional new clothes in a small satchel, which she carried under her cloak.
Laurelin and Gideon then went down the street toward the smith's quarter where Laurelin knew they could find decent weapons and armor for a fair price. Along the way, Laurelin stopped in a bakery and bought some pastries. Gideon, who was getting thirsty, asked her where they could get a drink, especially after eating several of the delicious and fruity delicacies.
Laurelin knew a good place nearby called the White Dragon Inn. So they postponed their armory visit for a while as they went for a quick drink. As they crossed the street to head into the White Dragon Inn, a fellow in a dark-green hooded cloak followed them into the tavern and watched their movements closely.
The inn was a well-kept establishment and had a relaxed feeling. A few others were eating some cheeses or having a drink. Laurelin said to the barman, "Two mugs of old vroth." He placed two large stone cups before them and poured a brownish liquid from a bottle. Gideon was not familiar with the ingredients, but it looked good and tasted even better, like rum with some crushed fruit in it. After several minutes and another two rounds, Gideon was starting to feel the intoxicating effect of the drinks. It was affecting Laurelin but not as much. Gideon thought she evidently had a great constitution because he was light-headed, while she seemed relaxed but as quick of wit as usual. They were laughing over a joke that Gideon had just told when the green-cloaked man, who had been watching the pair the whole time, walked toward Laurelin.
"Aaye, Glade Gilding! Mae govannen!" [Hail, Glade Gilding! Well met!], Laurelin said to the fellow in a dialect that was somewhat different from the elven Gideon had been granted.
Thanks to Garenthal, Gideon realized that he knew the language was a dialect of Manya called Wood Elven or Tarin. Gideon realized the gift contained only basic information about this dialect. Gideon thought, If I was granted it all, then what would I need to learn? He wondered what other leftover thoughts had been placed and felt a little unsettled, but he had consented. The fellow then lifted his cowl and hood, and his face came clearly into view. His hair was a golden yellow, braided on each side; his ears curved gracefully to terminate in a slender tip; he was definitely an elf—or Alor, as they called themselves—by Gideon's reckoning.
His eyes shone a pale blue; a hint of hardness marked by experience was evident, though mostly hidden behind a mixture of merriment and knowing. He wore a white shirt, which was frilled at the neck, covered by a forest green vest. His trousers were tightly hugging brown leather that seemed to fit like a second skin. But his boots stood out like nothing Gideon had ever seen before. They were bone white, coming up just past his knees and ending in a bright-yellow jagged band, and apparently, they made little noise when he walked.
"Vedui'nae saian luume' Glade [Greetings, Glade. It has been too long]," replied Laurelin, smiling as he approached the table. Gideon was still getting used to the language. It seemed that Laurelin knew this stranger. Then she turned and said in Arabethic to Gideon, "This is an old friend of mine, Finelen. His name is Glade Gilding."
"Hello," said Gideon nodding his head as the fellow came to stand next to them.
"Good day to you," responded Glade. "And who might you be?"
"I am John Gideon," he replied in Arabethic, using the proper way he had learned from Pyne. "But I've recently accepted an Alor name, Finelen." Then, remembering Ragan's advice on keeping his arrival and origins a secret, he added, "I am presently traveling and from Taros region."
"Taros, you say?" said Glade, turning to the counter. "I passed through there a little over four months ago. A beautiful land." Then he called to the barkeeper, "Evren! A glass of your best wine, if you please."
"That'll be Old Vineyards then," said Evren.
"Oh yes! Yes! Old Vineyards! Definitely!" replied Glade enthusiastically. "Mmmmmm. Yes, that will do nicely."
"An excellent choice, sir," agreed Evren as he went to get the bottle of wine.
Laurelin then said, "So what brings you to Mindon, Glade? I haven't seen you in years."
When his order came, Glade drank long and deep, as if it were water. "Now, that's what I call good wine," he said in a satiated tone. "Anyway, I am here in Mindon to recuperate for a few days. I just finished a long trip from the Greenway in Arador, scouting for Urshkaar troops. Well, I found the green skinned goblins all right, out by the Crystalpeak Mountains, moving along one of the safe passes. There were at least three divisions of Urshkaar, as well as a division of Charachau. I tell you, something terrible is going to happen relatively soon. I can feel it in my bones."
"The Urshkaar were near the Crystalpeak Mountains?" asked Laurelin in disbelief. "Then that means that most of the lands between the northern section of Urzan and parts of Kingswood Forest are blocked by the enemy but not completely held. No road will be safe from either side for a hundred miles."
"I am afraid so," agreed Glade. "I have already informed the Order of the Platinum Griffon in Calendor, as well as some of the liaison officers to our Dwarro, Norgtor, and Edrix allies. I still have to give a final report to Mindon's minister of city defense so that he and Gilthanal Falandral can confer. If the Urshkaar are reinforced by other regiments and brigades, they may move south into the Greenway region of Arador Province."
"Who is leading them?" asked Laurelin.
"From what I could tell, I believe one of the leaders is an Urshkaar marshal named Agrak. I also uncovered reports of another senior Urshkaar leader, one you know, Laurelin. Evidently Lord Marshal Balgan is moving forces to attempt to take the area between Koman and Kingswood closest to Morthaurnan supposedly to stop a huge incursion of chaotic spirits manifesting mainly as wood wight warriors composed of deadwood as well as other undead or forms of the Unlife. Additionally, the Dark Elves and the Valharri are involved. While scouting, I saw Ammaroth's and Valestran's standards and banners, two of the powerful Valharri high lords. Their forces were splitting—one going into Koman, the other into the Kingswood Province. Yes, something is definitely going on!" Laurelin looked somewhat disturbed by the news.
"Excuse me," interrupted Gideon. "I am not too informed about the local war situation. Who is in charge of