Yardie (prime)/Prospects of the Fall
“Elanthia’s on fire, Leff.”
Leff, the Half-Elf frontiersman, nodded, His tanned face obscured by the shifting barrier of thorns. His stormy gray eyes peeked through the vine maelstrom. Flying overhead was his companion and the keen-eyed elf-owl, Cairn, patrolling the area with an elegant glide.
Rays of warmth caressed Yardie’s silken black face like a gentle lover. His eyes closed as he basked in the tepid glow from the flickering lanterns on each of the kraken statue’s four. With his oiled pack and coconut water beside him, he let out a slow exhale of fragrant strawberry breath and pondered the current state of affairs.
“Consider the state of our world. The Landing? The next collection for the Barony, deaf to the pleas of those who call the lands home. Icemule? Worried that Ta’Vaalor might join in said conquest, that lot hopes to poke the Crimson Bear.”
“Wyvern,” Leff corrected.
Yardie blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Whatever.” He grabbed his drink and took a healthy swig. His once parched throat quenched again. “The dwarves, gnomes, halflings, sylvans, and elves remain in their homes, content in their isolation. And the Erithi?” Yardie chuckled, licking his lips. “I begin to wonder if their homeland exists.”
Leff smiled, or so the Faendryl thought. It was hard to see through the vines, even harder to see through that thick agrestal beard, a shrub camouflaging emotion. His head turned towards the north, the sound of ocean waves crashing against the shore. I wonder about the lands. Nature sings a sweet song.
Yardie gave the faintest of nods. The faintest hint of mirth twinkled in his eyes as he scratched his mithglin ring with his thumbnail. “My brother and other rangers close to me say the same thing. They say I am not listening.”
“He’s right,” the Arboreal Archanist chimed.
Yardie shifted his violet eyes to Cairn before locking them back to Leff. “More than a year ago, I left all of the pains and sorrows of the Landing to come here. Kraken's Fall is my home now. No judgment. No restrictions. Just a place where one can indulge, fish, and make a fair amount of coin as one lives with purpose.” Yardie’s gaze softened, eyebrows raised in curiosity. He propped his hand upon his cheek. “Leff, how did you arrive here?”
Leff rubbed his chin, his arm brushing the sleeve of his billowing upland cloak against his gently recurved ruic longbow. “The hunting and company are good, albeit scarce.” He tapped his leather archer’s armguard. “Curiosity of the logging colony, but you know how those affairs turn sour.”
“Much like the other places,” Yardie said. “But not here. This place is ripe for a fresh start. One can fish, start a small business, take on jobs against pirates and bandits, and find their calling.” He downed the last of his coconut water, then took a slow pull of crisp, salty air into his flaring nostrils.
“The tritons in the Atoll are shrouded in mystery,” Leff reminded. “There’s much to explore there.”
“Mm.” Yardie rose to his feet. “We can do something good here, Leff. You all have talents and skills. You and my brothers’ foraging and hunting skills? The owl's eyes? Casi’s elemental magic? Lumi’s healing? Khoal’s nautical talents? We even have Wyrmheart and the dark arts here, and there’s little worry about those talents of his krolvin background. It’s…”
“Free,” Leff finished. “The Freemen and women of Kraken’s Fall.”
Yardie nodded with a cheeky grin. “I like it.” The Faendryl readied some silver and headed to the spicy wings stand. “I think this could be the beginning of something grand for all of us.”
((Thanks to Leff for allowing me to write his character into this post. Giving Kraken's Fall some love.))