Last time, the four elves had escaped from a gunfight with Union soldiers just south of Thief River Falls, Minnesota. There was a gate, one that would take them to a different planar world, all they had to do was step through.
Sla-Mori the one known only by Him
To august realms, the sorcery within
If you hear the call of arcane lore,
Your world shall rest on Earth no more
A maiden elf calling with her cunning song
“Meet me at the Inn of Last Home”
Heartborne will find the way!
Wishmaster, as performed by Nightwish
1298 AE, Lornar’s Pass, South of the Durmond Prior
The gate between worlds opened into the foothills of a snow swept mountain range. Shani and Abisayo both shivered openly as their horses plodded through the snow. The four riders kept a close watch on the surrounding area, taking note of the people who travelled the roads; humans, Norn, Asura, and some Charr.
“We’re definitely in Tyria,” Pania said as they brought the horses to a stop next to one road way. They received some definite stares from passersby; riders on horseback were obviously a rare sight to see. “We need ta acclimate ourselves. Find out what happened.”
“It were what, two hunner an’ fifty years back,” Shani mused as she caught sight of the fortress like construction in the distance. “Look like a lots changed.”
“Was there always a lack of horses?” Wren asked as she noticed one of the Asura gaping as he looked at Wren’s midnight black horse. “Or is it a more recent thing?”
“Horses were never used as far as I can remember,” Pania said, nodding politely to the Asura. “At least less here than in Cantha.”
“Thet there would be one o’ the nation states o’ this world,” Shani said with a nod. “Wren, it be best ifn you an’ me said we’re o’ Canthan an’ Krytan ancestry.”
“There ain’t no Mohawk an’ as far as I remember, there ain’t no French here neither.” Shani sighed as she reached into her coat and took out a cigarello. Pania furrowed her brow and Shani gave only a shrug as she lighted the object. “Bones ‘re gettin’ sore.”
“And what about me,” Abisayo said with a sigh. “I don’t see many who would look like me.”
“Elonian,” Pania said with a firm nod. “Actually records state there were quite a few similarities between Yoruba an’ Elonia. As fer me, I’m Ascalonian. Still remember stories o’ the Searin’ quite well.”
“Searing?” Abisayo and Wren asked in unison.
“The great conflagration o’ a war between humans an’ Charr,” Shani said as she leaned back in her saddle, then motioned subtly toward a bulky, feline looking individual. “He would be Charr.”
“I think that’s a she, Shani,” Pania suggested with a closer look. The elven bard began noticing the crowd that was gathering and made a hasty suggestion. “We best head toward that structure. Maybe they’ll have information for us.”
“An’ try an’ hide the ears,” Shani said with caution. “Last thing I want is ta explain how elves is back in Tyria. An’ no wavin’ them arrow heads ’round neither. Thet’d be even harder ta explain.”