Stranger in Zendar (Orgoth)

It was a stormy afternoon in Zendar, so most of the town were inside their houses, to keep out of the rain. So, no one noticed the figure make it's way to the tavern. It was wrapped in a black travelling cloak. If anyone was paying attention, they would see a flash a blazing red hair, and a pair of sharp, yet tired golden eyes. The figure got to the tavern, opened the door, and threw down the hood, revealing a man who appeared in his early twenties. His long hair whipped in the wind for a second, before he shut the door behind him. He walked to the bar, and sat down. It was apparent to anyone that the man had traveled for some time, as he seemed tired. The bartender eyed him strangely, for some reason, but Tristan Bahamat didn't care. He threw some coins onto the counter, and asked "Can I get some water?" The bartender stared for a moment, before getting a cup of water for Tristan. Tristan downed it in one go, and thanked the bartender. He rubbed his eyes, and fully noticed the people around him. there were, maybe, four other people in the tavern, which suited Tristan just fine. 


He did feel something was...off. He faked scratching his head, instead making sure his horn weren't visible. Tristan was a Heanta, and living among the other races, he knew that fact would only lead to problems. However, he must've not done a good enough job, as one of the patrons, a larger man, who had obviously had more than his fair share of drink, got up, and grunted at him, drunkenly. "Oh? A Heanta? What're you doin here, slaver?" Tristan closed his eyes, and breathed in slowly. Ignore him. He thought, putting some more coin on the table. "Can I get another cup?" He asked, and the bartender obliged. tristan only took a sip out of it, when a hand slapped it out of his hand. His eyes shot to the same man who had talked. Why can I never rest? He thought. First that Asentari woman, now this man. Ever since meeting Vala, my luck seems to have been bad. He continued looking at the man, as he slammed his hand onto the bar. "I asked ya a question, Heanta." He said. The smell of his breath almost made Tristan coughed, but instead, he put up his arms. "Come now, friend. I am not here to fight. I am a simple traveler, seeking some water." He hoped someone would step in. He really didn't want to fight this man.

The bath felt wonderful to the young traveler who immersed herself in the warm water. Steam filled the room above the main inn in the town of Zendar. The young Eldari lay soaking for a moment, rubbing her pointed ears with a sponge and her eyelids slowly closing over her emerald green eyes. Fayla Shor had gotten caught right in the path of a rainstorm on the way to her meeting with her best friend, Vala of the Hornless Clan. The storm seemed to follow her to Zendar, but she was now forgetting all about that as she lay in a copper bathtub and relaxed.

About twenty minutes later, Fayla sat on the bed in her usual rented room, covered only by a blanket as she debated whther to get dressed or not. The bed across from her was empty, and Fayla stared at it for a moment, wondering if her friend was alright. The thought was quickly pushed away when she remembered what Vala had been through so far in her young life, and what they had been through together. The Eldari glanced down at the bruised flesh of her left side, where she had sustained a badly broken ribs at the hands of Thassa during their confrontation in Yoniva. She could have stayed longer in Sindaron and healed fully, but she had been anxious to get back on the road and see what the future held for her, so she left early, which also explained why Vala was not there yet. She was roused from her reverie by her rumbling stomach, and decided that food would be a good idea about now.

Down in the common area, things were quiet. The storm meant that most of the town's population remained at home, while also dissuading travelers from the town. This type of weather was common at this time of the year, especially this far south. Fayla ordered a soup, something of an unconscious habit now after meeting Kairi Thorne of the Order of the Sun, and sat near the fireplace. She looked around for a brief moment, noting the other people in the room. They sat in a group on the opposite side of the room, seemingly happy to keep to themselves, which suited Fayla just fine.

Suddenly, the door opened and a figure with bright red hair entered the tavern. The figure's eyes glinted in the light from the fire as he approached the bar and asked for a cup of water. Fayla finished her soup and studied him intently. She spotted his attempt to conceal his horns with his long hair, but Fayla's keen eyesight had noticed them already. She wondered what an Heanta was doing his far south, but she also noticed something familiar about him, both his hair and his facial expressions. She looked over to the group of men in the corner, and she saw that they had noticed the man's heritage too, and they began to whisper.

Soon enough, the biggest one of the lot sidled over and began to question the stranger, calling him a slaver. The stranger ignored the drunk and requested another water, which was slapped out of his hands by the brute. Fayla silently put her hands together in the familiar pose, and her two Spectral Clones appeared beside her. They looked at Fayla and spoke simultaneously. "What's the job, boss?" Fayla nodded at the bar counter. "That man's being very rude to a customer. Go sort him out."

The stranger had put his hands up in a disarming manner, trying to solve the problem peacefully, which was not typical of an Heanta. Suddenly a voice drew the drunkard's attention. "Hey buddy, quit it." The man turned to be confronted by... twins? Eldari twins at that? The other twin then spoke, cracking her knuckles together menacingly. "Yeah. Stop making fights, or we'll have to chin ya." The man gaped at them in disbelief. "But you're Eldari! You would defend this slaver scum?" The clones each held up a finger at the drunk to shush him and one of them spoke. "Okay, first of all, Heanta don't take slaves, they eat people." Then the other. "Second, do you see any slaves with him? In his pockets maybe? He just wants a glass of water and to be left alone." They then finished simultaneously. "So go back to your drink, and just be thankful he didn't kill your ass dead. Or else, like we said, we'll have to chin ya."

The copies of Fayla pouted at Tristan as he advised them to stay out. "Well, we wouldn't." He then chastised them for bringing up the eating people thing. The clones looked at each other and shrugged. "Oh. Well we thought you all did that. Our bad." Meanwhile, the drunk patron was visibly steaming, and attempted to through a punch at one of the clones. The clone smiled and readied herself, but Tristan grabbed his hand first and conveyed a very direct threat to him, before snapping the man's arm at the elbow. The Heanta then kicked him out the door with expediency. The clones pouted childishly again.

"Aww. No fun." The clones looked back to Fayla with a shrug, before vanishing with a poof. Fayla stood up and approached the Heanta at the bar. "Sorry about that. The girls tend to be... idiots. But not as much as that other guy." The Eldari put her soup on the counter and took a seat next to the Heanta. She noticed the remaining patrons staring in her direction, but they averted their gazes quickly when she looked at them. She looked at the Heanta with curiosity. "So, what brings you down this far south? Do you actually not eat people?"

Tristan lamented his method of dealing with the brute, noting that he should have simply popped the guy's shoulder instead of breaking his arm. Fayla simply shrugged. "Maybe, but now he's less likely to come back I suppose." He gave her a short and blunt answer to her inquiry as to his purpose in Zendar, before explaining that he was somewhat of an oddity among the Heanta, in that he did not partake in the eating of flesh from people, cracking what appeared to be a joke in the process, though he remained serious the entire time. Fayla snorted but made no further remark, though she was curious about this Heanta. The only other Heanta Fayla had met that didn't eat people was Vala, who coincidentally also had flaming red hair.

The stranger then asked who Fayla was. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if telling this stranger the truth was a good idea. She knew Vala was a highly sought-after mark for any would-be bounty hunter of the Warlord, which meant that by extension she would be a target as well. Not to mention the renown of capturing or killing the granddaughter of Dalrodir Shor. But something about this stranger told her that he was not interested in bounty-hunting or assassination. She looked at him directly, having come to her decision.

"My name is Fayla Shor." She took another mouthful of soup before continuing. "My best friend is an Heanta. I know it's also quite strange, given our peoples' history, but being friends with her feels like destiny, given her own family's ancestry."

Fayla chuckled as the Heanta made a quip about the man's chances, given that there was only one inn in the small town. "You're probably right. I'd say it's for the best." The Eldari was then taken aback when the man began laughing hysterically after she told him who she was. She thought for a second that the man didn't believe her, but he explained his reaction once he regained his composure. Apparently, he had fought alongside her grandfather during the Kishin Dola crisis. Fayla was not sure whether to believe the man or not, but he offered to guess the name of her Heanta friend. She nodded, slightly confused. "Shouldn't be too hard. We're kind of notorious around these parts. Around most parts, actually." The Heanta correctly identified Vala, but it was what he said next that surprised her.

The Heanta unfurled the cloth from around his waist, and showed her the symbol that adorned it. Fayla gazed at him wide-eyed. "How did you get that? And how did you know Vala's mother?" Fayla's eyes suddenly narrowed as she grew suspicious again. "Who are you?"

The man's demeanor changed, becoming suddenly serious. Fayla considered his words for a moment. He said he knew Vala's mother well, but he was not after the two of them like most Heanta they met were. She hesitated for a moment, but something about the guy made her believe him. The man went on to explain that he was once a member of Clan Hornless, leaving when Vala was born. The crest was apparently given to the man for a purpose involving Vala, but one which he couldn't disclose. He then introduced himself as Tristan Bahamat. The name was unfamiliar to Fayla, but she grinned at him and offered a handshake nonetheless.

"Nice to meet you Tristan. So, ex-Hornless, huh?" Tristan ran his hand through his hair, before asking an odd question about where Vala gets her hair from, noting that red hair wasn't common in Kyrias. Fayla scratched her head in confusion. "It is? Huh, I didn't know that. I presume Vala got it from her dad... wait. You're telling me you're Vala's dad? No offense, but you don't really look like her, besides the hair. I've seen plenty of Heanta with red hair. The crest is interesting though." She stroked her chin for a moment. "Okay, say I believe you. Vala's never mentioned you before."

Fayla studied the man as he told her about why he had left Vala in Kyrias. He spoke of his intense dislike of the ways of his people, and his arrangement with Celeana that allowed him safe passage out of Kyrias in exchange for providing an heir for the High Lady of the Sanguine Dominion. Tristan finished by saying that he had no regrets, as Vala was safe with her mother. Fayla narrowed her eyes at him. "Not as safe as you thought, it turns out. Did she happen to mention the multiple attempts on her life as she was growing up?" She rubbed her chin and considered the man for a moment. "Well, she's inherited your hatred of your own race, that's for damn sure. What took you so long to make contact with her anyway? Why wait almost forty years to see her?"

Tristan made no move, as Fayla asked about the attempts on Vala's life as she was growing up. "Those would've happened, regardless if I was there or not. It is what being related to Ren is like." He sighed after. "I never planned on making contact with her. We more....ran into each other." Tristan stared into his drink for a few moments. "It didn't end well, in case you were wondering." He sat in silence for a few more minutes. "You may think the same things she did. The both of you are not wrong in doing so. I wasn't there. But, allow me one more question." He stared into Fayla's eyes. "Would it have truly been better if I was there? Hating everything, and almost everyone around me?"

Fayla listened to Tristan plead his case. He stated that the attempts on Vala's life would've happened, even if he had been there the whole time. Fayla shrugged. "Maybe. We can't know for sure." Tristan noted that he hadn't planned to make contact at all, only to run into her recently, which he again emphasized didn't go well. "Yeah, you mentioned that. I'm not really surprised." The man stopped and regarded her for long moments, before asking her one last question. Would things have been better if he had stuck around, hating everything around him. Fayla chose her words carefully. "I understand that you didn't really want a child at the time. That you did what you could to get yourself out of Kyrias. I do. But the reality is, desired or not, you created a life. You would have hated everything around you, but I can tell you for a fact that Vala feels the same. If you were there, she would have had somebody to turn to who understood her. Someone who felt the same as her. People would have still tried to kill her, sure. But she wouldn't have been alone. Her mother is honorable, but she doesn't hate her people the way you and Vala do. Vala is the best thing to happen to me, and the truth is, without her in your life, you don't know what you're missing." Fayla realized that she was shaking with emotion from her outburst. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she wiped it away and chuckled. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually this emotional."

Tristan shook his head. "No. Simply being related to Ren make both her, and her mother a target. There are very few who would willingly get on Calaena's bad side, though." Tristan stopped, before cocking his head. "I guess I was on her good side then....." He said, more to himself than Fayla. He then listened to what she said. After, when she apologized, he shook his head again. "You're fine. You have nothing to apologize for." Tristan than sat for a while, compiling his thoughts. He finally spoke. "We can sit here and discuss what if's all night. The fact is, what has passed, has passed. I cannot change the past, even if I wanted to. All I can do at this point, is continue to be who I am. If that path leads me back into Vala's life, I will accept it." He then turned to the Eldari, and his face softened. "I am glad, though. that my daughter has such a stalwart friend. Thank you."

After her emotional outburst, Tristan shook his head and told her that she had nothing to apologize for. The man seemed to consider his next words very carefully before he spoke, and Fayla listened intently to what he said. He tried to defend himself by stating that he couldn't change the past, and that he'd be willing to accept it if his path happened to guide him back to Vala, before thanking her for being a stalwart friend. At that point, she had heard enough. She felt more sorrow for Vala than ever before. At least with Fayla's own father, there was nothing anyone could do. Calrados Insari was dead, and that was it. He couldn't come back. But for Vala to know that her father was still alive, but he just wasn't bothered going out of his way to find her was much worse. She fixed a cynical glare at the man, but resisted the urge to raise her voice.

"Save your compliments. I wasn't asking you to change the past. I wanted you to make an effort now. To try and reconnect, and be there for her now. But I can see now that it really doesn't suit you. She needs someone who actually wants to be a father, not someone who just wants to 'continue to be who I am', and only be there for her if he happens to be in the neighborhood. The way you've spoken it sounds like Vala's very existence is just an inconvenience, and that you'll just suck it up and deal with her only if fate forces you too." She stood and tossed a few coins to Bartley behind the counter, and looked at Tristan one last time. "You know, it's probably for the best if you just stay away for good. You traipsing along whenever 'fate' allows and half-assing parenthood is no help at all. If Vala or I see you again, then fate is being too kind to you. Goodbye." With that, Fayla stalked out to go up to her room. She needed sleep to put Tristan out of her mind. She needed to be there for Vala, but she was unsure what to tell her of this meeting, if at all.