Emizael and Larae's Story

[Larae]

OK, this isn't a very good title, but I'm just not sure quite what this will be about. As it takes shape, I'm sure something will occur to me.


Larae stepped off the boat in Menethil Harbor. She had grown more fond of her elven homelands in the last few months, but it still felt good to return to the busy port city. The rush of sounds, smells and people always made her feel more energetic and cheerful. Of course, she was nearly always cheerful anyway.

Nearly all the population of Azeroth passed through the port at one time or another, as it was the departure and arrival point for the two main shipping lines over the great sea. So she was not surprised when she looked around and saw a familiar face – or at least familiar hair and ears – over the rest of the crowd.

“Emi,” she shouted, with rather un-elflike enthusiasm. “Emi! Over here!”

If he hadn’t heard his name called out, he probably would have seen her jump and wave over the heads of the humans and dwarves between them. Or he would have turned to see what the rest of the crowd was looking at. But he knew the voice, and he was smiling even before he turned around.

She ran to him and hugged him with her usual girlish enthusiasm, which he seemed not to mind at all. “Well, look at you,” he said, stepping back with his hand on her shoulder. “You really have given up the armor for a dress after all! I thought it was just a crazy rumor.”

She laughed. “No, silly, I am a priestess of Elune now!” She made a rather pointless effort to look serious. “I am now a warrior of the spirit world, my teacher says.”

“Well, that must be a good deal less tiring, anyway,” Emizael answered.

“I don’t know, it makes my brain pretty tired sometimes. There is a lot more thinking, and reading. But I love to sing! Want to hear one of my songs?”

“Of course, I do!” The hunter offered Larae his arm. “But first, I think we could both use a drink. Singing always goes better with a good supply of ale, don’t you think?”

[Emizael]

Emi sighs contentedly, and, wrapping his arm about Laraes', leads her off over the wooden walk of the docks, towards a somewhat busy edifice.

" It has been some time since I was here last you know!" He says with a smirk.

" What, five minutes?" Larae quips with a ready smile.

" Cha, My Lady, you wound me! It has been at the very least, an entire day."

Steering through the crowded docks, and past the much-beleagured Griffon Master, the two find the rough streets of the town proper to be much more to thier likings. All around them, men and dwarf and gnome, and even a few other Kaldorei busied about, running thier errands, hawking thier wares, and generally being about the business of life. Here and there could be spotted a few rambunctious children, playing with the typical abandon of one with no worry.

Stopping briefly in front of the inn, Larae pauses to breathe in the air, and look about the small walled town.

" Everything...everything is just so fast here."

" Fast, yes." The hunter replied. " But, the ale is good, the wine is better, and if you like fish, this is heaven."

Mock horror became apparent on the face of the young priestess.

" Here now! You shouldn't blaspheme!" she said quickly, the look on her face already turning to a slow grin.

" Indeed, I should not." Emi knuckles his forehead, a small tilt to the badge of office that Larae proudly displays, and ducks low through the inn door, gently pulling the priestess with him up the small steps inside.

The interior was brightly lit, as most common rooms of the day are, with a broad fireplace, plenty of seating, and the atmosphere of lively crowd. All manner of beings were spread about the place. A few dwarfs to one corner, drinking strong bitter ales, a handful of gnomes nearest the door, gossiping excitedly amongst themselves, and humans...so many humans puttering about. Some drinking, some playing at games of chance, laughing and talking...

The two Kaldorei made thier way through the busy inn, and with some small luck, found themselves an empty table. Emi made a small show of pulling back the chair for Larae, before signaling a barmaid to come over.

As the barmaid approached, the Hunter pulled his own chair around, and straddling it backwise, motioned to Larae.

" Ladies first! " He says with a grin.

[Larae]

Seeing two elves, and one of them in the robe of a priest, the barmaid suggested some moonberry juice. "It is made from berries just sent today from Astranaar," she added helpfully.

"Ugh," Larae said, perhaps more emphatically than necessary. "I have been in elven lands for weeks, drinking weak tea and juice. Bring me your strongest ale!"

The barmaid was surprised, in fact almost alarmed, which amused Emizael greatly. "Make that two!" he said heartily. "No, make it four. That way you will have a few minutes to tend to your other customers. Oh," he added, "some food, too. Do you have any clams tonight?"

"Oh, yes sir, deviled or clam chowder?"

"Deviled! Double Deviled! The hotter the better! And you'd best bring a couple more pints as well, to wash them down." Emizael handed a few coins to the barmaid, which, along with his usual charm, ensured the most attentive service for the evening.

"So, my dear girl, what have you been doing with yourself lately?" the hunter asked, turning back to his companion. "Any exciting adventures?"

Larae rolled her eyes. "Hardly. I have spent the last several weeks in Desolace, working on a number of tasks for the elves at Nigel's point." Emizael nodded, he knew the place well. But then, he knew every place well.

"And have you been traveling alone? No handsome young elf lad has captured your fancy?" Emi asked.

"Traveling, I have been quite on my own. There was a druid in Desolace -- Lacota is his name. He and I worked together on several things. But he was all business. Very focused on advancing his skills as a druid, not much time for fun."

"Hmmm," Emizael raised an eyebrow. "I have not heard of this fellow. I will ask around, and see if he is someone I can approve of. Can't have you running around with just anyone."

Larae laughed so hard at this she almost choked on her ale. "I know how careful you are in screening your own companions," she said, looking around the crowded inn. "How many of the women here are you ... acquainted with?"

Emizael looked indignant. "You misjudge me! Of course, I am often here, as many travelers are, but I'm sure there are no women here that..." he looked around himself, and blushed, "well, one or ... hmmm ... so what do you hear from your sister?"

[Emizael]

Barely stifling a giggle, the priestess opted for the change in topic. She spoke for a few moments of her sister, and the letters exchanged between them, of the comings and goings and the places they had each been and seen.

Larae always speaks so highly of her sister, and the twinkle in her star-filled eyes flashed ever so brightly now, as she recounted some of the Hunter Celeras' adventures. She paused briefly as the food course arrived, the bar-maid setting the hot dishes down in front of them.

With word of murmured thanks, the two elves lapsed into a brief moment of silence to test the Double-Deviled Clams famous in this region.

" I gotta tell ya, Larae, I do think that I may have been born in the wrong body sometimes." Emi leaned across his plate, inhaling deeply of the spiced dishes. " It is so hard to find food like this on Kalimdor!"

Larae looked up at this comment, a quizzical look crossing her features.

" Now, don't get me wrong, but, I think I would do well as a dwarf, or a gnome, maybe. "

Larae nearly spluttered ale across the table, envisioning Emi as a gnome.

" I tell you I would make a great dwarf! I know mining, and booze, and...uhm...yeah! And I could grow a long beard, and tuck it into my belt like Kanammer, and then! Then!!"

" Then what?", she asked, scooping up another spiced morsel.

" Then..." He mused, balancing an empty clamshell on his nose.

" Then...well, I could live in Ironforge, in a rusty bucket!"

The priestess guffawed at this, and both Kaldorei collapsed into a fit of laughter.

" Here now! Wha's this?! You sayin' Ironforge be rusty?!"

Both Elves turned to look at the new speaker.

A few tables away, a small group of dwarves sat, drinking thier brews and sampling the local cuisine. The boisterous nature of the Elves' conversation had obviously captured thier attention, and now, one of the trio stood, looking rather indignant.

" Now, now, good dwarf..." Began Emi. " I was merely remarking that I like Ironforge!"

The stout fellow stomped across the short distance, his iron shod boots near shaking the tables in his way as he advanced.

" Say wha now?"

[Larae]

Larae squinted at the dwarf. She thought she remembered a dwarf who looked just like this fellow – except that one had been… less….blurry. (Those clams were awfully spicy, and she seemed to have finished both her ales, and started on one of Emi’s.)

“I said, my good man, er, dwarf,” Emi continued, “…that Ironforge is one of my favorite cities and the dwarves there are all so … trusty!” He stood up, excited at having thought of some way out of the mess. “All, so very trusty and reliable fellows, those Ironforgian dwarves. Aren’t they Larae?”

“AHA!” Larae exclaimed suddenly. She started to leap to her feet, but leaping seemed inadvisable at that particular moment, and she sat back down, not as gracefully as she might have liked. “Oragh! I knew I remembered you!” she continued. “You are the one who sold me that adamantium breastplate!”

Oragh hesitated. “Aye, I’m sure I did. I sell a lot of those.”

”I’m sure you do,” Larae said, standing more slowly this time. “They seem like such a bargain until you find out they are really just mithril.”

“What are you trying to say?” the dwarf sputtered. His friends looked over, beginning to rise out of their seats.

”I’m not ‘trying’ to say anything,” Larae answered, leaning against the table. Oragh’s friends started to turn back to their ale, and Emi sighed quietly with relief. “I am not trying to say anything,” she repeated, “because I am quite plainly saying that you are a cheater.”

[Emizael]

Gasp and shock hit the room like the kiss of icy water...

The sounds and sussurrus of the busy little tavern cease, making palpable the descent of the sudden shift in mood.

At the table of the dwarfs, disbelief crowned thier faces, sturdy broad beards doing little to hide the open mouths...

Oragh himself was plainly speechless... his eyes darting about madly...

Emi watched, in slow motion it seemed, a napkin falling off of his own table, and his eye thus directed to the floor, seeing Larae nearly sprawling under the table, already drunk...

The napkin landed...

And the noise exploded.

" WHAAAA--?!"

The dwarf Oragh shrieked in rage! Firmly grasping the edges of the table he heaved it aside and into the table of his own companions!