Inexorable Chaos

Jessa wipes her sweat covered hair from her brow as she finally glimpses her destination. The wall of the Elven city seems to coalesce out of the jungle, a wooden rampart of tree trunks grown together as if they were one tree. High above in the wall’s canopy, she spots elven archers keeping watch; large roots protrude from and heave up the ground around the fortification. Jessa gawks for a moment as Serena’s fantastic tales of living elven fortresses grown from forests are manifest before her.

She frowns as she remembers another story had come from Sarena.

“Kidnapping. Of all the fucking things…” she grumbles. She resumes walking towards the town, all while having a feeling that she is being heavily watched.

Jessa arrives at the entrance of the town. Her mood improves as she thinks of getting a bath, a nice comfy room, and a hot meal. Though, if she is being honest with herself, her current funds may not be able to cover all of it.

She waits in line at the gate. Also waiting patiently are [Traders], [Merchants], and [Mercenary] escorts. Two male Elven guards, one old and the other young, check each and every cart, making sure that all goods entering the city are safe and acceptable. Jessa looks them over, finding the usual long ears and slim, lithe bodies. Many women might find the elves attractive, but Jessa prefers men with more meat on their bones.

“Next!”

Jessa blinks, startled from her revery by the guard. She covertly wipes a bit of drool from her mouth and steps forward.

One of the Elven guards raises an eyebrow as he squints at the lone traveler. A rarity considering humans only come to the border town for trade.

“[Analyze],” The elf [Ranger] says to his companion’s and Jessa’s surprise.

‘A [Rogue],’ the [Ranger] notices, ‘decently leveled, but still too low for possible thievery. Nothing to trade either. Then, possibly a spy? Or even a [Spy]… ’

“Um…”

Jessa wishes to say something, but the two guards just stare at her.

Finally, after a long moment, the guard that [Analyze]ed her speaks, “Why have you come to Thelon, [Rogue]?”

Jessa flinches at the question. She had expected their inquiry, but not their hostility.

“I am looking for two friends. An elf and a human.”

He ponders over her answer. All of his skills tell him that she’s speaking the truth.

‘Must be a spy,’ he concludes, ‘Not a low level one either. Too forward with the answer, too ready. Already has a persona worked out. Possibly a [Spymaster]. Will need to check properly.’

The older guard looks at his partner, “Glader, take her to Hawk.”

The younger [Hunter] nods before turning to the confused Jessa, “If you wish to enter Thelon, you will need to be checked inside first.”

Jessa frowns, but reluctantly nods. The entire situation seems off to her.

As she follows Glader into the town of Thelon, her eyes widen in surprise at the structures within. Buildings are grown instead of built, trees rise high above the homes, giving a nice, but not obtrusive amount of shade. On the ground are flowers aplenty, which are even more noticeable when compared to the crisscrossing roots that create roads for people to walk on.

She also begins to feel out of place as she notices the people here. Practically all the humans are [Traders], [Merchants], and [Mercenaries]. Very few are anything else, which, now that she thinks about it, does make sense. Theron is a trading hub owned and operated by elves exclusively for trade. Non-elves are not allowed to own property, nor operate or hold stock in a business.

She continues to follow Glader until they reach a two-story building, a five minute walk from the gate. A sign is plastered on the top of the building, but she does not understand the words written. What she does understand is the picture of a spilling mug.

Her surmise is revealed to be correct. The sounds of laughter, music, and the heavy scent of booze all waft through the lattice door.

“Come. This will be quick,” Glader says. He opens the door and gestures for her to enter.

She licks her lips as she enters the tavern.

______________________________________

A muscular Elf slumps onto the table as he sits alone in a corner of the tavern. He stares at the four mugs in front of him, all long since emptied. The depressed man is attempting to drown his sorrows with drink. Unfortunately, Elves have never been known for making strong drinks.

“Hawk, we have another one.”

Hawk groans and looks up.

His eyes stop on Jessa as she licks her lips. She stares at him, ogling his body, fervently looking at his well-developed muscles, which are on full display under his thin tank top .

For a second, the [Ranger Knight Archmage] feels a chill go down his spine as he stares into the hungry eyes of a predator he has not seen in a very long time.

After a moment of staring at each other, Hawk’s brain catches up to what’s happening.

“[Advanced Analyze].”

The skill activates and apprises him of Jessa’s Status.

“She’s just a [Rogue].” Hawk waves Glader off.

Glader nods in response, “Alright, miss. You’re free to go about your business. I apologize for wasting your time.”

All Jessa can do is grunt in response as she continues to stare.

Glader gives her a confused look then walks away.

Hawk raises an eyebrow at her.

She blinks. “Right,” she says and then looks around before her eyes settle back on Hawk.

“So, uh,” she begins, “what was that about?”

Hawk sighs, “A [Spy] can manipulate what information people obtain from the [Analyze] skill. [Advanced Analyze] can see through it.”

“Oh. Ohhhh! He thought I was a [Spy].”

Jessa sits on a chair across from Hawk without asking.

Hawk snorts, smiling now at the company, “We’ve had six try to infiltrate through this town already. It’s annoying.”

Jessa nods and is about to speak, but a deer demihuman [Server] interrupts her.

“Hello, dearie. Welcome to the Oak Sprout. Can I get you anything?”

“Yes!” Jessa shouts, startling Hawk, and the [Server].

“Food. Meat. I want something juicy. And maybe a drink. Something strong. Do you have dwarven mead?”

The [Server] chuckles at the request, “Of course. We can have the mead ready in a moment, but you’ll have to wait on the food.”

“What!? You have Dwarven Mead? Why am I drinking this weak piss then!?” Hawk bellows as he points at the empty mugs.

“Your wife asked us to not serve you anything stronger,” she says before pointing at the mugs, “That’s the strongest we’ll give you.”

Hawk glares at the women as she walks away, but Jessa can only raise an eyebrow.

“Sounds like you have a problem,” Jessa remarks.

Hawk clicks his tongue before leaning back in his chair with a frown.

“Heh, problem. Oh, I’ve got a problem alright,” he shakes his head, “My wife banished me to Thalen, saying that I am too protective of my daughter. Can you believe that? Me, overprotective.”

The [Server] returns and places the dwarven mead in front of Jessa before walking away.

Hawk stares at the drink longingly.

Jessa makes eye contact with Hawk as she takes the mug and loudly sips from it. She licks her lips while giving a hum of appreciation.

“Why would she think of you as overprotective?”

Hawk’s eyes follow the drink.

“Well, my daughter is seeing a guy and she thinks I’ll get in the way of the relationship.”

“Ohhh,” Jessa says while slushing the mead in the mug.

“Is the guy good for your daughter?”

Hawk frowns, “Probably… I’m not too sure. But he doesn’t seem bad for a human… Er, no offense.”

Jessa stops as her mind begins to whirl. Alfheim, the capital city of the elves, where only elves may reside. Humans aren’t allowed, at least that’s what Sarena had explained to her. If a human was inside the city, then there would need to be a special reason…

“Franky… and you’re Sarena’s father.”

Hawk’s eyes harden as he looks at the petite girl. The incongruity of their conversion finally sinks through the alcoholic haze shrouding his mind.

“Who are you?” he cautiously asks.

Jessa leans forward with a smile on her face.

“A friend. You have good instincts. Franky is not at all fit for your daughter…”

____________________________________

The Neuri were the first of the Lycans, and the most powerful. They had mastered their innate abilities and built incredible cities in which they taught their young to fully utilize their cursed heritage.

“Cursed,” Garn frowns at the term. The Neuri never used such a word to describe their native power. Other races had coined the term, misunderstanding and fearing what their transformative abilities.

Garn shakes his head as he gazes at the magnificent statue of a Neuri Elder at the apotheosis of their transformation. Standing twelve feet tall, the statue of a bipedal wolf with three heads, clad in plated armour and bladed gauntlets, looms above the passers by. Menacing, powerful… everything Garn wishes his kind could be; everything he dreams they’ll become again..

He turns away from the statue, looks at the library they have recently excavated from the underground city.

“What condition are the scrolls in, Lissette?” He asks.

The Lycan woman grabs a scroll off the shelf, only for it to fall apart at her touch.

“Not good. The scrolls aren’t enchanted.”

Garn grunts unhappily, annoyed that a treasure trove of information is all but gone now.

“Keep looking. Maybe something here is still useful.”

Lissette nods before continuing her search. Garn does the same as he walks to the back, finding decayed furniture, corpses, and more dust. So far, it seems only the statues have survived the test of time.

Still, he continues to look, searching the walls for indents and passages. The Neuri loved their secret passages and rooms which annoys Garn to no end. They have yet to find the city’s treasury, no doubt because it is skillfully hidden.

Still, he continues to wander around, tapping the walls, listening for something, anything really. Unfortunately, sound damping magic was used in the creation of the walls, effectively muffling the sound.

“Garn! I found something.”

Garn hears Lissette and hurries to her location.. When he gets there, a smile forms on his lips as he sees a secret passage she’s found at the back of the library. On the floor, by her feet, is a trapdoor. Next to the trapdoor is a statue that has fallen over.

Luck is on his side today.

“Did you knock down the statue?”

Lissette shrugs innocently. The [Thief] cares little about the boring statue.

Garn shakes his head as he comes close and leans down. He grabs the chain on the trapdoor and pulls.

His muscles bulge as the door slowly creaks open. Once open, he sees a dark passage going down.

“Stay up here and warn me if someone comes.”

The [Thief] nods. Garn starts down the steps. He taps a ring on his finger and the spell [Floating Lantern] is activated.

A ball of light forms in the air, illuminating the stairway.

He carefully descends the passage until the stairs end at a gigantic door without a handle or keyhole. The whole thing screams [Enchanted] to him, and the lycan can only frown as his eyes land on a small circular pedestal with a stone bowl on top.

He sighs, walks to the Neuri door,rolls up his sleeve and extends the nail on his index finger. He cuts his arm and lets his blood spill into the bowl.

Once the vessel is full, he watches as his blood sinks into the stone. Hinges screech as the long abandoned doors open.

The Neuri did not fear [Thieves] sneaking into their treasuries. The way was barred to any who lacked the blood of a powerful Lycan.

For the Neuri, the blood had to come from a Lycan who was at least level two hundred.

Once the doors are fully open, Garn enters inside and finds exactly what he sought. Enchanted scrolls, items, furniture, and various other objects of power. His attention is grabbed by an alter at the back . That looks similar to the destroyed altar in the central cathedral of the city.

He walks to the altar, fascinated by the stonework.. It almost seems to glow in his eyes.

With careful movements, he places his hand on the altar.

“Hehehe, so you found one that works. Good, good. Now I can rub it in the fox’s face! Oh, what fun!”