Yardie (prime)/The Office

“Close the door behind you, please,” instructed Yardie to Medijine, the orphan he took under his tutelage, as he looked up from his wooden desk. His silvery lor quill in his left hand. “You don’t want to let in the ash, do you?”

Entranced by the ordinary room, Medijine was impressed and repulsed at the nature of the domicile. It was a plain residence, and the interior garnered little favor with its shabby rug, ordinary bed, and unattended fireplace. The entire quarters were immaculate. “Mister Yardie, how can you live here?”

Yardie glanced up at her, then let out a faint smile, his eyelids crinkling slightly. “It’s mine, for work only. I live...elsewhere.”

“Where?” Yardie never answered her inquiry.

She perused the room. A flickering candle sashayed its red-orange flame, illuminating the room with a warm glow that showcased the intense work of the walls. Several sheets of parchment hung from all four sides of the open living room like slabs of meat at the butchers. A rainbow of rope hung from one image to the next, connecting documents with illustrations and schedules with locations. To the immediate left, face directly ahead of where the rogue sat, a lineup of posters of prominent figures clung with notes scribbled underneath. They were all written in Dark Elven.

Fascinated by the detail crafted by whoever created the illustration, Medijine approached one of the posters. The focal point, a human redhead with white eyes and a stoic face, seemed to stare through her as if searching the child’s face for answers. The young girl’s freckles danced like constellations forming when she saw the aviary companion next to the human. “Is that an ow–”

“That’s not important,” Yardie answered quickly. “Just a list.”

Medijine pointed at each person on that wall, counting two rows of five people. “Ten.”

Yardie flicked the feathered part of his quill toward the opposite wall where the young girl entered. She neared it, and the flickering candlelight brought into focus a large map of Elanthia that took center stage. Tiny black pins stuck onto different parts of the world, with more color-coded strings pulling outside the map’s confines with the opposite ends holding small information cards.

The Faendryl rose to his feet, moving with marshmallow footsteps until he stood beside the young girl. “The world is busy,” Yardie began, “and many job opportunities and dangers require information and caution.” Yardie glanced at her, his face softening. “If you ever decide to delve into the business, you must take careful notes on what transpires and what contacts you have at your disposal. Some come from gossip and conversation. Others require a few dead drops, darker contacts, and lots of silver.”

She pointed towards three locations on the map. They had large rocky structures drawn with blotches of red ink.

“Volcanos,” Yardie answered. “Teras is active, as always.” His finger shifted towards another location. “That’s the Isle of Four Winds. Hexa’jing is believed to be responsible. No leads on the bandits, the Hyssch you followed, though the Iyo has one of the Circle, which are the leaders of this new dilemma.” The rogue rubbed his face, weary from weeks of search. “We’re waiting for new information.”

Yardie walked his fingers towards an island near Icemule. “The Mayor of Icemule took in refugees from here.” Yardie paused. “Some slaves…some krolving.”

Medijine scowled,” They need let them burn.

Yardie gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I know. It was a decision in haste to help or let them die. They are now occupying Icemule, though some have traveled to Wehnimer’s Landing.” His finger tapped the frontier. “That place has the Empire from here,” he dragged his fingers upon Turmyzzarian territory, “moving settlers around here.” Nostrils snorted out hot air. “Some are content, others, not so much.”

Medijine observed a green line that connected two distant lands. “And here?”

“Solhaven is in the West. Ta’Illistim is in the East. Both had some vital people die, and no one knows who’s behind it. Lots of bad history, but things were better. Now, they’re on the brink of…something.” He thought of the missing individuals, and with the girl in his presence, another child came to mind. "A kid, Gasen, is missing along with several others."

“That one has some big walls,” Medijine said, trailing her slender digit further East. “What’s there?”

“Ta’Vaalor.” He motioned towards the waters outside the walls. “New port has drawn some bandits who want to take advantage of the new influx of silver.” He pointed towards more scribbling, with the letter “M” written in the center. “I had some help, but I need to be careful not to tap into him too much. It might get discovered. The Vaalorians took care of it, though it is not over.” Yardie spoke to her, imparting the lesson about the underworld. “The creed is greed. Where one falls, another rises.”

Yardie stretched both arms in the air, flexing the wings of his well-defined back muscles. “Aelotoi live here. Kiss-a-gear,” he said, pointing at the Aelotoi land.

“Draelor!” she exclaimed.

Yardie nodded, moving towards the other spots of the world. “Zul Logoth. River Rest. Kraken’s Fall, where I live. All quiet.”

Medijine pointed to the Fall. “You from there?”

Yardie shook his head and pointed to New Ta’Faendryl. “I’m from here. We caught an evil sorceress who escaped and did bad things, but the way people made it sound… something is happening at home.”

Medijine leaned against his hip. “You go back?”

Yardie shook his head and closed his eyes. “Unless for work, no. Safer that way.” He glanced at the girl’s nails and winced at the chipped paint from plum-covered polish. “C’mon. I’ll tell you more after I take care of your nails. You’ve been biting them again, haven’t you?”

Medijine gasped. “How you know?”

“I’m watching you, too,” Yardie teased. “Never know what else may be out there, but I always hope to find out.”