Third time’s the charm
Set: I think you know by now
Time: The begining of a long journey
Place: Just outside the capital’s walls
Main character: Avelyn, our lovely shapeshifter
When the stonewalls had faded into the horizon, and people started going in different directions, Avelyn felt the need to decide where to go. The capital was off limits for him, and going to other important cities were out of the question too. He could not reveal himself to anyone, lest he be captured. The real spy set him up to conceal their actions. Of that he was sure. Anyone capable of deceiving the political elite of the capital could easily get the word spread that Avelyn was not to be trusted. No, he needed help from other sources.
The elves often spoke about the Kavri forest. It was a place where people came to spend the end of their lives in peace. Many a hero retired when they felt their strength weaken, and to get told a story by them was a honor seldom received. As a young trainee in the embassy palace he felt no need going there. All the knowledge in the world could be found just around the corner - why would he beg some old hermit to give him what he already had?
The forest popped into his mind as the landscape once more changed, this time from barley fields to a piney forest. The treasure of information and help that lied in all his connections had disappeared. He had no home, no work, no family. He could either start over and build his career once again, or he could prove who the real spy was. Then he certainly must become reinstalled in his vocation.
The ancient heroes of Kavri forest would surely know things about insert gang name here. And if they didn’t, they must know someone who knows. Used to the levels of respect his title normally got him, Avelyn totally forgot that the retired heroes might not want to share their information with every Tom, Dick and Harry. And a dwarven merchant did not yield the same power as the vice governor.
Luckily oblivious to this fact Avelyn had a new power to his steps. In his mind he already contemplated what the perfect punishment would be for the rascal that stole his governorship. Hangin was too raw, too brutal, too straightforward. A backstabber like that needed to be punished in a more civilized way. The thought kept him occupied for the better of five hours. Even as he sat down for a quick luncheon his subconsciousness kept going through the hundred arts of torture.
