Author’s Note: Neverwinter is a free (and awesome) video game available on PC, Playstation, Xbox1. I play, and then I write about it in a creative sense. You will not find the “Pale” in the game. That’s from my brain. Enjoy.
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Remember when I mentioned my specific enclave of wizardry, the “Pale.” Well, we aren’t a huge enclave in Neverwinter, but we are numerous enough. Anyway, Arch-Master Arkady decided to dump a load of donkey dung on my shoulders by assigning me to become involved with the mysteries regarding The Vault of the Nine.
Jaerlaxle Baenre is my contact. I was told to seek him out “somewhere in the marketplace.” Thanks Arkady. So, just to review, I am put on the scent of Jaerlaxle without any other bits of information. Typical “Pale” mission.
I mount up on my horse, a horse I proudly cloaked in armor, red-tinted armor, and slowly trotted away from the “Pale” enclave, an aging chapter house on the edge of Protector’s Enclave. I looked at every face I passed, trying to get a read of some sort of the thoughts of the average. Nothing.
To be respectful, I dismount at the gate of Protector’s Enclave, lead my mount passed the guardhouse, trying to look normal, trying to blend in with the rest. I usually wear a revealing top. In my experience, showing off your goods distracts the male orc, the male dwarf, and sometimes even the female barbarian. That’s a definite combat advantage for a spell slinger. You know what I know what I mean. I need all the moments I can hustle.
Stopping at a vendor, I buy a couple carrots for my horse, and casually ask about the location of Jaerlaxle. The old vendor, an old woman, handed back my change, but I wave a hand, and shake my hand.
“Yours,” I say.
“Gracious me,” she said, throwing the coins in a nearby box. “You really should put something on. You could catch your death with that top.”
“Forgive me,” I say, “it’s my way of making an orc raider look before he strikes.”
“Wise, wise, wise,” she says. Her shriveled face glances at me again, throwing a grin my way. I think maybe she used to do the same thing in her youth.
“Wise would be me knowing where Jaerlaxle is hiding.”
“Jar?” she asked. “Why he always lurks further in toward the old tree in the courtyard sometimes. Ask around, you’ll find him.”
“You have my thanks, milady.” I say.
“Of course. Stop back by if you need anything else. I have fresh apples inbound.”
I smile and I walk on into the mix.
I have no idea what I’m looking for still, but I trudge on, still trying to pull thoughts from the commoners. Too bad I am not skilled in psionics.
Author’s Note: Like this pitter-patter? You can now enjoy the novel about Isabel the Vampire in my book entitled: Isabel: The Portals of Hellion. Grab it FREE in electronic form on Amazon.
