Wearied from pushing through the unrelenting crowds, Kendath paused to catch his breath. He warily glanced about but could detect no perspicuous magical emanations in the air. Common sense dictated the presence of scrying devices, and the sooner they got this business over with the better.

And then there was the matter of payment, which they didn't have. Perhaps an agreement could be reached nonetheless.

At length his gaze snapped over to Merrin. "You have a better idea?" he asked petulantly. "Sometimes I wonder why I didn't turn magic-user instead of assassin. Would have been a hell of a lot more useful."

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Merrin didn't reply, only looked down at the cobblestones. "No," she said at length, abruptly. "I didn't have an idea...I just wondered." She sounded subdued, a little troubled.

In the ensuing silence, she wondered too why she bothered, if he was always going to come out with some sharp, conversation-killing retort. Why was he so different sometimes? She could pinpoint times when he'd talked to her, as if he cared more than he let on. Or not even talked, but done things...

She'd been here before, Merrin knew, and it led to nothing but confusion. Briefly she glanced sideways and up at him beside her, unwillingly remembering a certain night not so long ago when he'd smiled. It had been fleeting, that night, but it was the first time he hadn't smirked or sneered.

Disgusted with herself, Merrin forcibly escorted that memory to the premises of her mind and determinedly cast it out.

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Kendath was just perceptive enough to catch the crestfallen tone in her voice. He glanced askance at her downcast face, her cobalt eyes shadowed by her long lashes staring dejectedly at the flagstones.

Curse it. Curse it, curse it, curse it. Why did he always let his suppressed anger spill through? Curbing his caustic tongue was not something he'd excercised over the past ten years, and he couldn't for the life of him get used to it now. Merrin had shown him nothing but sympathy, and he treated her like excrement. As he looked obliquely at her now, two words ran bitterly through his head: Why me?

He sighed and coughed. Coughed and sighed. At last he murmured, "I'm sorry. I should have..." If he hadn't looked the dimwit before, he certainly sounded the part now.

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Had she really just heard that? Merrin was surprised enough to look up, to make sure, and find that he really had said it. Again! One moment he was caustic, apathetic Kendath, and the next he was actually apologizing?

A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth and she shrugged self-consciously, glancing up - and down - and finally forcing her eyes to stay up, however uncomfortable. What did one say to this sort of thing? "It's all right," she responded rather slowly, awkwardly, and in the pause that followed - "I...I guess sometimes I forget you don't know everything, too."

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((Double-post, I know...LDM through Melda...))

Kendath ducked his head to hide his extreme discomfort and the fact that the heat was shamelessly rushing up to his face. Clearing his throat, he managed to compose himself by the time the walkway drew to a close, and they found themselves standing before a pair of impossibly tall doors, reddish in hue and carved from a wood he didn’t recognize. The runes etched upon its smooth surface glowed faintly, a blatant warning against intruders. He was about to raise a hand to knock before he stopped himself. For a reason he couldn’t fathom, knocking seemed just a bit out of place.

It was somewhere around this revelation that he decided to add mages to his list of top ten things in this world best eradicated.

The voice that resounded in his head the next instant, abruptly and completely without his consent, only reinforced this notion. Our hospitality is not a matter freely handed out. State your name and business.

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((Don't kill me for triple-posting, mods, one of them was technically LDM ))

"It should be," muttered Merrin. It was only the gods that permitted them to use magic at all. The least they could do was not act like it was some treaure to be hoarded.

After a moment of hesitation and a glance at Kendath said out loud, "Renegade Dragonriders Merrin and Kendath, and one Adanil. Our business...is our own." She addressed the doors, unsure what else to talk to, and upon ceasing to speak waited anxiously, hoping she hadn't omitted something important.

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The silence stretched on, and just as Kendath was contemplating the utterance of a few choice words, both doors swung silently open. A vaulted entrance hall stretched on before them. Lines of runes glowed with blue fire on the walls. Their booted steps echoed hollowly off the stone as they stepped over the threshold. Of their own accord the doors shut behind them.

A balding brown-robed scribe greeted them upon their entrance. "What is it that you require of the Guild?" he asked blandly.

What hospitality. Simply to be polite, Kendath decided to return the grace. "We seek a middling mage to fix for us a certain portal," he illustrated bluntly.

Looking not in the least interested, the scribe nodded and made a note on his vellum. Travellers from around the continent must seek help here on a regular basis. "Middling mage." He ruminated for a short moment before beckoning them. "I believe Elkor the Blundering may be in need of some service, especially after the time he set fire to the archmage's robes."

Slightly alarmed, Kendath made no move to follow. "Elkor the Blundering?"

The scribe continued walking at a languid pace. "Both of you hoard little gold on your persons, and I'm afraid Elkor is the only wizard you can afford. Have no fears. His title was gleaned partially as an insult to his appearance, but overall he's contributed interestingly to the Guild."

For some reason this didn't reassure Kendath in the least.

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Interestingly? Not a word, when used to describe a wizard, that she found to be much of an indication of skill. Merrin hastened her steps down the echoing passageway. "Perhaps we have no gold - but other services may be rendered, can they not?" she asked their guide anxiously. Some vague notion of a task or a quest or some such was behind this inquiry, but really Merrin knew very little of what she spoke. That seemed to be a recurring theme.

In any case, she had no wish to have some Elkor the Blundering send them another two thousand years in the past, with no conceivable hope of return. The very thought spurred her to continue with an air of pleading - "The assistance we need is of a somewhat temperamental nature."

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"Are ye implying that I can't be doin' it?" exploded a voice from a nearby doorway.

Kendath jumped a foot in the air. Whirling around, he noticed that they'd turned down a side corridor, and the scribe had rapped smartly on a single steel-reinforced door. And out of the door stepped...

A dwarf.

Reddish beard burnt and steaming, a sliver of flame licking at his gray robes, the dwarf stuck his head out his laboratory door and glared at them all behind lopsided spectacles. Upon sighting his new clients, he stepped outside and planted both fists on his hips. "Elkor the Blundering. Elkor the Short. Elkor the Cheesehead. Bah!" He poked a stubby finger into the scribe's chest, who noticeably twitched. "Ye lot just don't appreciate me expertise is all!"

Something exploded in the laboratory behind him, making all of them flinch.

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"Oh - no no, indeed we do," amended Merrin hastily, slightly alarmed. He looked liable to start smoking at the ears any moment. The thought unexpectedly provoked a grin, which she beat into submission; and held out a hand with as solemn an expression as she could muster. "You seem - ah - extremely capable indeed."

But the tip of his beard was still smoking beneath his narrowed beady eyes. Merrin eyed it in some consternation and managed to add in a rather strangled voice. "Ah...your beard..."

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"Me beard's fine!" Elkor raged in arbitrary fury. "So first it's me... me lack o'height! Then it's me beard! What next - my toes?"

At that instant the scribe chose to make a wise departure, but not without patting them both on their backs in the nature of "blessings be upon you both in the afterlife."

"Let him burn to death," Kendath muttered. "If he's dead, we won't have to - "

But apparently Elkor had better hearing than he could ever imagine, for the next thing he knew, he was being fully tackled to the ground. The wind knocked out of him, his eyes widened before flexing out of the way to avoid a vindictive punch that would have blasted his skull to Vryngard and back. Another punch landed in his stomach, thwarting his efforts to unsheathe his falchion and gut this mad creature like a fish.

"Are - ye - insultin' - me - beard?!" Elkor the Blundering howled, landing yet another punch within a millimeter of Kendath's left ear.

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Merrin found herself unsure whether to fly to Kendath's defense or attempt to stifle the burst of mirth that threatened to escape at any moment at the sight of the pair of them flat on the stone floor. In a few seconds she'd come to a compromise and was futilely grasping at the diminutive wizard's singed robes while fighting the urge to laugh helplessly.

"My - ah - good sir wizard!" she addressed him haphazardly, dodging a sharp elbow as he wound up for another shot at Kendath's head. "You - you seem to be forgetting that we can't pay you if - "

Oomph. That same elbow to the stomach made Merrin sit down hard on that same stone floor, gulping for air, blue eyes wide with surprise. The first breath that returned became a stifled giggle, which she suppressed and hastened to resume ineffectually attempting to persuade this dwarf not to decapitate Kendath.

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At last Kendath's boot connected sharply with Elkor's chin, sending the dwarf skidding backwards into the opposite wall. Sporting a black eye and a bloody nose, the assassin climbed to his feet with murder in his glare. His hand spasdomically shot for his falchion.

Reddish beard still steaming, Elkor straightened his lopsided spectacles and retaliated with shaking an enormous fist. A patch of beard had fallen away, and a boot-sized indentation on his chin began swelling.

The two stood glaring at each other from opposite ends of the corridor like bickering schoolboys in a sandbox.

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Merrin, having found what little assistance she could offer in discontinuing this scuffle to be of no use whatever, now looked uneasily from dwarven wizard to irate dragonrider. Was it just her, or did this not seem the best of grounds on which to begin negotiations?

After a very awkward pause she ventured cautiously, "Ah...Master Elkor, you seem to have proven inescapably that your beard...and other, um, attributes...are of the very highest repute." Merrin stopped, anxiously observing his reaction. "Er...would it be possible for us to explain to you exactly what we've come for?"

While saying this she moved to put a warning hand on Kendath's arm, but resisted the urge to mutter something. It had been vividly proven that this dwarf had excellent hearing.

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Merrin's touch on his arm abruptly jolted Kendath to his senses. Murderous glare abating in favor of rationality, he swiped his sleeve across his bloody nose and made a stoic attempt to ignore the nauseous pain in his stomach.

Elkor the Blundering grunted, though he never took his eyes off Kendath. Dusting his hands as though this was a daily affair, he began beckoning them into his laboratory. He thought better of it however and instead set off down the corridor. He led them up a flight of winding stairs and down another torchlit corridor, coming to a halt outside a faintly glowing blue door. A swift encantation dispelled the blue glow, and the door swung silently open to reveal a small bedchamber lined with bookshelves.

A habitual stroking of his beard immediately had him singed. Scowling, he moved to a wash basin and dunked his entire head in the water.

At least he came out smelling better.

Sniffing away the water in his nostrils, he scrubbed his face on a conveniently placed towel and straightened his spectacles. He inspected himself in a cracked mirror, frowning at his missing patch of beard and making a point to shoot another glare Kendath's way. Finally satisfied, he plopped down in a rickety chair at his desk and gestured for his guests to take the two chairs opposite.

Kendath took one glance at the chair's height - or lack of it - and managed a polite, caustic, curt refusal.

Elkor the Gracious Host smiled at Merrin, smiled at Kendath, then graciously asked, "Now what the hell do ye want?"

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(oh dear..i seem to have no place in my own RP...oh well, i'l see what happens)

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Made by Lembas