Into the Caverns
Bjorke sat in the guild hall, a stack of unopened mail on the table in front of her, sipping at her mead. It was quiet today, too quiet, and she was uneasy.
The communications channel crackled to life with the sound of coughing. “Good day, Marshal.” Feera sounded hoarse, but not from sickness.
“Feera, are you alright?” She was glad the girl had returned unscathed from her impetuous foray into the Caverns, yet Atolli was still missing. How much time did they really have?
“Yes. … er… I had a run in with Soro.”
Bjorke chuckled grimly. “Amazed you are among the living, then.” She did not advocate revenge among guild mates, but would not have faulted Soro for exacting it. Had their roles been reversed, Feera would certainly not be drawing breath. An image of bloody fingerprints popped into her head, and she shook it away, reaching for the mail.
A neatly folded parchment bore the name “Borke” in large script. She frowned as she opened it, and tried to decipher the words. Between misspellings, crossed out words and broken Common, she gathered that Binni was worried about Feera.
She tapped the comm. “Feera, who is Jiv-uubus, and why does Binni think your life is in danger? And when will that girl learn Common properly?” Her voice showed her irritation.
“Don’t be like that! She’s trying!” Feera chided, then abruptly stopped. “Oh… I think she means Jiv.”
“Where is he, anyway? Deep in his cups?” Bjorke knew his drinking had increased significantly recently. And yet here was another crisis that pulled her away from helping her old friend, whether he wanted the help or not.
Another voice popped up, and Bjorke took a few moments before recognizing the newest member of Sterling.
“He said something about going to look for Atolli,” said Lijane. Her Common was as flawless as Feera’s. Why couldn’t they teach that girl to speak?
“Dammit! Feera!” She snapped at the young hunter. This was her fault, even if it was an accident. Now Jiv was in danger as well.
“Truitt! Why is that man never here when I need him?” She hadn’t meant to yell into the comm., but for her Exchequer. Not only did he take care of most of her minor business details, he served as a messenger. He finally arrived, and she handed him notes she had dashed off. “Take this one to Arsonite. Tell him I need that Temporal Whatsist now, if not sooner. And this one is for Edrick. Find him.”
The man took the notes, his heart in his throat. How was he to find a man off on a hunting expedition gods only knew where? He merely nodded, and turned, leaving as quietly as he had arrived.
Bjorke drained her mug, grabbed her gear, and headed out. In Tanaris, she was met with a near-blinding sandstorm. She tied a bandana around her face, and made her way Southeast. Blastit’s thick coat protected his face, and his broad hooves covered the ground as if it were snow instead of sand.
“Any word yet from Jiv?” She asked once out of the wind in the Cavern.
“No, Bjorke. But I can barely hear you over the static.” Lijane answered.
“It’s the Caverns.. “ Bjorke tried to say, over the buzz of the Comm. She shook her head and switched it off. No point, anyway, she thought. She spoke to the elves, and the guardians, asking about the old elf. Had they seen him? Their responses were but riddles, and Bjorke had little patience for the metaphysical philosophies.
She headed for Old Hillsbrad, hoping to find a clue there.
