Returning to Song and Sword for a while, until I decide on something else to torture you with and picking up from last week.
Pashevel settled Marlia on her bedroll and then took Kashrya from Dakkas, holding her as he slid from Sonata’s back, noticing the way he moved, the way he leaned against the unicorn for support. “He’s about done in,” Pashevel thought as the Drow reached for Kashrya. Silently he handed her to him, letting him carry her to the blanket he had laid out for her, shaking his head in admiration at the sheer determination that kept him on his feet.
“Come, friend,” Pashevel invited when he had gotten Kashrya settled. “They’ll both sleep now, so let’s get you some real food.”
Dakkas nodded, too weary to argue as he joined Pashevel at the fire. He took the bowl of stew that was offered, the scent making his stomach growl. He paused, looking up at Pashevel. “Why are you doing this?”
The question caught the Bard by surprise. “Doing what?”
“Helping us. Giving us food and shelter and healing. You don’t even know us.”
Pashevel: a simple Elven Bard — and the Crown Prince
Marlia: a Paladin of Arithen, the Elven God of Justice – seeking vengeance for the destruction of her village
Dakkas: heir to the Drow throne — if his father and elder half-brother don’t kill him first
Kashrya: raised among a tribe of nomadic Humans, she is unaware of her true heritage — or of the prophecy that made her mother an outcast
Their goal: build a bridge between the Elves and their outcast brethren, the Drow, reuniting them and undoing the damage caused in a time so far gone that history has become legend and legend has become myth.
But first, they have a problem to solve: how do you stop a war that hasn’t started?
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