The Orange Fury was not a very active person. In fact, she was probably the laziest adventurer of them all. She lived from loot to loot, trying to stretch her money as well as she could, so she could live lazily and simply, resting and idling away the time.
She had stretched her last bit of loot as far as it would go. It had been a two years off, she had been living inside a tree hollow in and old growth forest, a mile downriver from a decent little town. She did little work, besides basic upkeep, hunted for some food, but spent frequent nights about town, becoming a favorite story teller, as well as performing little magic tricks for the children. But she never did anything she didnÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢t want to. And life was good.
But when money ran out, she knew she had to hit the trails. The Orange Fury donned her old patches and armor, and took up her tools. She bid goodbye to the town, and headed southwest, to the larger trade towns, where she was sure to find a party.
Any adventurer has their contacts, and the Orange Fury was not without old friends. Or family, for that matter. On the way, she had been able to contact her half-brother. And thatÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢s exactly why she was sitting at the small corner table of the tavern, feet up, a mug of chilled spice water at claw.
A shadowed figure sat down with a huff, and threw back the large straw hat on his bald head. ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œd**nit, the sun is brutal out today. Dunno how you can wear full kit in this mess, Ander.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
The Orange Fury, with her large eyes, short cropped black hair, and orange headband, smiled at her half brother. ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œI thought you liked summer, Flypipe.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
Flypipe grinned feicely back at his half sister. Flypipe was quite odd looking, built on small bones, with large, almost sallow looking eyes, dark skin, and long hands. He was proportioned how a tall elf would be, but he was short, and looked none too sturdy. But underneath the delicate looks, was a hard body. His bones were super dense, and his blood boiled even now with a suppressed berserker rage. Flypipe was a full blooded Effin, also known as a Red Elf, capable of great destructive rages, and magic enhanced fighting skill. He still had yet to reach his prime, and his chin was fuzzy with uncut stubble.
ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œI like summer when it melts the snow, not when it boils the blood. IÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢m running hot already.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬? Flypipe laughed.
Ander was built on the same small lines has her half brother, but she was a half blood Red Elf, making her somewhat taller, and her bones were far less dense. She also was quite level headed, incapable of the same berserker rages the Effin were famed for. Also, she was sterile, unable to bear children (which never bothered her, seeing as she thought most kids were the scourge of the earth.) Like her step-brother, she looked young, due to the longitivity of the Elves.
ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œAre you in the rut already?ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬? She asked delicately.
Flypipe nearly coughed up his half swallowed spice water. ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œAnder!ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬? He sputtered, blushing under his dark skin.
ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œCrikey, Piper. What has you as sensitive as a High Elf today?ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬? Ander shot back.
ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œWhat has you brash as an orge? I think youÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢ve been away from the settlement too long. Lady Primm would take a switch to you if she heard you speak like that.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œIÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢m fifty, Pipe. IÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢m fully able to take care of myself by now. I donÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢t need Miss Primm switching me for not having crisp linens.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
That was the oddity of the Effin. They were warriors at heart, but their society was quite refined, having descended from the full High Elves. At the Settlement (Quite an understatement, the city was ornate as a palace), Lady Primm was the hired manners teacher, taking on young Effin and training them in courtly manners, between fighting lessons and anger management.
ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œEnough.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬? Flypipe said, swalowing down the last of his spice water. ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œWhat has you dragging me all the way from North reach?ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œIÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢m looking for a job. You usually have input on that.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œHuh. Last interesting thing I head about was back the road in Enderdale, about some rich trader types paying for a group to head down the Damb Road to clear out bandits.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œYep. Keep whatever you loot.... You cant be serious about going down there.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œWhy not? Just need to get a party together, and blast our way down their. A few camps of bandits cant be too bad.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
Flypipe hit his head on the wooden table with a loud ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã‹Å“THUNKÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢. ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œAnder...ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œThe Orange Fury is back in business.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬? Ander said, getting up from the table, draining the last of her spice water. ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œCome on, Pipe. WeÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã¢â€žÂ¢re going to Enderdale for a bit. Keep an eye out for any adventuring types on the road, we gotta get a party started.ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
Flypipe groaned, dragging himself out of the chair. ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã…â€œDid I say I wanted any part in this? Noo, we never listen to little old Flypipe...ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬?
--Join in at wil. Comments apreciated!l--