FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It was a quiet night in Felglade. The moon was waxing towards full, dimly lighting the streets, and it was late enough that many people were finding their beds. The Catseye, the inn that served the small town, had only a few patrons left in the common room, nursing their drinks.

Edamara was one of those. He had claimed a small table off to the side, eyeing the other patrons while nursing his ale. The others, to their credit, had stopped openly staring at him an hour or so ago. The elf understood their stares all too well, knowing his appearance was unusual in this part of the world, but it was no less annoying for his understanding. Once in a while, he wished he was among other elves who could look at his snow white skin without comment, but for now, he wandered human lands.

Dorel was annoyed as well, Edamara could sense, though for different reasons. Edamara looked down at the arctic fox curled up at his feet. He was rewarded with a flat stare. Dorel opened his mouth slightly, and Edamara shook his head just as slightly. Dorel closed his mouth and went back to moodily staring at the floor. Edamara sighed, the smallest exhalation of breath, then finished what was left in his glass. It was time to leave. Earlier than he would have liked, but his and Dorel's annoyance was feeding into each other, and he didn't trust the fox to behave in that sort of mood. He left a silver on the table to cover his meal and drink, then strode to the door, his long legs rapidly eating up the distance. Dorel followed closely, softly yipping his appreciation.

Once outside, Edamara strode purposefully. Few were out on the streets, and he avoided meeting the eyes of the locals. While his height and colour attracted attention, his bearing, and perhaps the sword on his hip, dissuaded curiosity.

“What's the hurry, big guy? We have plenty of time."

Edamara glared down at Dorel without breaking stride. “I thought we agreed you wouldn't talk in public here. We attract enough attention as is."

“The street is clear right now. Not public. So what's the hurry? My legs are a lot shorter than yours. We're not all six-six, you know."

“I don't care for this place. The sooner we're at the meeting spot, the happier I'll be."

“Do you want my opinion?"

“Not particularly."

Edamara could sense Dorel's amusement even though his voice remained level. “I think it's a trap."

“Who would set a trap for me? I'm not known in these parts. As for you, you haven't had a conversation with anyone here, so they can't be trying to shut you up yet."

“You're my hero, you know that?"

Edamara led the way out of the town up a small game trail into the hills. “Besides, whether or not they're trapping me is irrelevant, isn't it? If they want to sell the ruse, they'll need to get close.

“Don't come crying to me when your body is full of arrows, that's all I'm saying."

“If only that were all you were saying. I don't need an empathic link with you to know you have much, much more you're going to say."

Dorel's bark sounded much like a laugh. The pair continued in silence for a minute before Dorel paused and looked up at Edamara. “Well, here we part. Good luck."

“You too. Keep in touch."

Dorel made a dismissive gesture with his tail as he clambered up over the rocks and out of sight. Edamara made no comment, but he smiled to himself as he continued following the game trail.

Another couple minutes saw him to the meeting spot. It was a ring of flat stones in a relatively flat depression, bordered on all sides by the rolling slopes of the hill. A soft yip carried on the breeze as Edamara walked towards the three figures seated on the stones. They got up as he approached.

Two humans and a dwarf. Just as expected.

The leader was a human, well-muscled with a short sword on his hip. The dwarf stood at his left, resting the head of his axe on the ground, and a woman was at his right. A passerby might consider her unarmed. Edamara recognized the pouch on her hip for what it was.

“Greetings!" the man said, arms stretched wide. “No trouble finding the place?"

“None at all." The man was tall for his kind, but Edamara still had to look down to meet his eyes. One thing he would say for his contact: he didn't openly stare at Edamara's skin or his solidly grey eyes. All business.

“Good, good. I'm glad you came. We could use an extra hand."

“As you said. How much are you paying?"

“Depends on exactly what we make. Your share would probably be four sails."

Edamara raised an eyebrow. “And the risk?"

“Nothing too difficult. You've seen combat before, yes? Know how to use that sword?"

“Yes to both."

“Then you'll be fine." The man's smile was a little too wide for Edamara's liking. He couldn't tell if it was because it seemed fake or if the man's demeanor just grated on him. “Most of the guards won't have seen much combat."

A squeak sounded before being cut short. Some mouse nearby had become dinner, Edamara supposed. He looked over the man and his companions once more. All his questions had been answered, at any rate.

“All right. I'm in." Edamara stretched out his hand, and the man reciprocated.

But instead of taking his hand, Edamara sketched precise symbols in the air, his lips repeating familiar words. The woman's eyes widened, and she reached out her own hand, but too late.

Edamara's spell flared with orange light, and a gout of flame rushed from his hand, spreading over the three before him. The man went down screaming as his flesh burned. The dwarf grunted with pain and tried to weather the blast, but he too went down. The woman leaped to the side, missing the worst of the blast, but her arm was caught, painfully singed. Edamara drew his sword as she regained her feet.

Her hand went for the pouch at her hip, drawing the components for a spell, but she was still off-balance, and Edamara was too quick. His blade slashed from her left shoulder to right hip, finishing what his spell did not.

He turned to face the incoming arrow, but a fraction too slowly. Dorel would have been proven right had Edamara's spell, cast earlier that day, not deflected it the extra inch necessary to miss. He ran up the hillside, secure in the knowledge that no one lay behind him, his legs eating up the distance. He managed to dodge the second arrow without any help from his armour spell and slashed at the elf who had hidden amongst the rocks.

His kinfolk dropped his bow and drew a dagger as he skipped back. Edamara managed only a graze, leaving a line of red against the elf's dark brown skin. The elf, to his credit, darted in without fear, but Edamara used his longer blade to keep the elf back. A few words from Edamara caused a blue glow to suffuse his eyes, and his blade lashed out with supernatural precision, slicing a line across the elf's throat. Edamara stood still as silence overtook the hills once more.

Or it would have, had Dorel not appeared at Edamara's feet once more. “Told you. Had that archer all ready to go."

Edamara wiped his blade and sheathed it. “Yes. Thank you for the warning."

“He almost got you, too."

“And how sad you would have been."

“Devastated." The fox grinned before sobering. “We're not going to the Catseye again, are we?"

The corner of Edamara's mouth twitched up in a smile. “No. We'll camp in the woods again, then head back to the good sergeant in the morning for the bounty."

“Good." Delor nodded his approval. “Do you have any more of that jerky? I think I earned it, being scout and all."

“Thought I heard you had supper a moment ago." Edamara belied his words by reaching into his belt pouch.

“Yeah, well. It's hard work looking after you."

“I'm sure it is. Let's go."

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AN: Apparently it's easier to write if I draw inspiration from tabletop rpgs and characters I make for them. I still don't have a proper backstory for this guy, but this was a thought about a possible minor event in his life. Hope you enjoyed!