Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [53]
"Well, then we'll turn this over to the Fifth Cavalry. The Moon elves can deal with him."
The Crescent Spur was a private inn owned by the Moon elves of Evereska. Only members of their elite army of elven warriors could stay at the prestigious inn. This rule had one exception and he was considered a regular at all of Waterdeep's taverns, pubs and inns: Martinez. By default, the ex-griffon cavalry captain was the only human who could eat at this inn and by chance, his old unit, the Fifth, happened to be in Waterdeep on this fateful day.
And thus, when knews arrived that game was afoot, the elven captain happily tossed his riding gloves to his teacher. "Do you feel like flying?" said the elf with a wry grin.
Martinez downed the liquor in his glass and set it down with an audible thud. "A chance to ride ol' Scarbeak and show him who is still the master?" He stood and gracefully hurtled a table on his way to the door.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," the elven captain shouted and chased after their ever charismatic leader. Despite years of drinking, the elf could still admire the cat-like grace of this extraordinary human. The same grace that allowed the warrior to fool many elves into thinking he was actually one of them.
It was true that they had felt betrayed by his race when it was discovered years afterwards, but they had stood by him in defiance when the Elders of Evereska demanded that Martinez be removed in order to preserve tradition. If Martinez left, so would they all the elves of the Fifth Cavalry had responded.
Such outright defiance would not be tolerated and the Cavalry was banished and ordered never to return to their jurisdiction. Since then the Fifth had wandered up and down the Sword Coast and in all directions around Evereska, but never going near their home city. It hurt them that the elders had been so stubborn about it but the cavalry was equally stubborn and earned quick renown for their valiant defense of the elven city and all neighbooring communities.
The army itself respected the Fifth's decision but valued their family ties more. They met the Fifth outside of Evereska's boundaries with open arms and at the same time bearing news of friends and family back home. It was the elven captain's secret hope that he might return home sometime in the next twenty years but it would take a miracle of bards to change the hearts of the Elders.
Maybe today was a day for a miracle.
Running past smoky chimneys, Chev wished he had taken time to learn more about dodging arrows rather than relying on his buckler's magic. With the shield lost somewhere on the bottom of that accursed elven fountain he had no choice but to continue running across the roofs of the merchant quarter and ignore the pain of the arrow stuck in his side.
Overhead griffons shrieked and swarmed around the fleeing warrior. Led by Martinez, they raised their voices in an elven chant and flooded the air around Chev with well crafted arrows.
Jumping over the edge of a building, Chev tumbled to the ground and rolled to his feet with arrows bouncing off the cobbles near his heels. Pushing into the crowd, he disappeared into the bustle and confusion of one of Waterdeep's busiest streets. Moving slowly and confidently, he lost himself in the swirl of people and vanished into the doorway of a tailor's shop.
Behind the counter, a halfling looked up in surprise at the injured warrior. Chev's disgust of halflings was evident as he picked the stocky humanoid up from behind the counter and over it so the little one was face to face with the warrior's angrily twisted face. "Where's the nearest healer?"
"Ugh, uh," blubbered the halfling and started to stammer. Chev shook him viciously and tightened his grip around the tailor's neck. "Down the street. Ijade's Poultices," he croaked.
The warrior tossed the halfling aside and went towards the back of the shop. He charged through a silk curtain and past a storage room filled with rolls of cloth both fine and coarse. Coming to the backdoor, he kicked it off its hinges and