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Larry got up from the table and made his way toward the door to get some fresh air. The season was that of cool mornings and fresh afternoons. The atmospheric change instantly began unclouding his mind so that he could think more clearly. Why was he given the blade he now carries, only to have it stripped from him so soon? Why did this elf feel that he should own the blade, just because it belonged to some dead mentor of his? Maybe Larry would not have any questions answered until Spree decided to speak up. Maverick was too irrational to reason with. And as he wondered about Maverick's attitude, he could not stop to wonder at the resemblance he had with Spree. Two elves that had not a trace of Gold elf in them, but had the pride and arrogance to put any Gold to shame. Wood elves were always more passive in their dealings.
Larry realized at length that no matter what color a person is...that person can always be different from the steriotypical pattern of his/her kind. Look at the famous Drizzt...A Drow that wants to live in the sunlight and do good for others.
This life certainly had its surprises...
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No sooner had the word passed his mind, that a surprise had just began.
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The building across the street was an Inn, a little more costly and finer than the one Larry and his companions now stayed in. At that moment, the building was in a flaming havoc. People were screaming and trying to run from the fire. The streets were a buzz of activity. The people inside the tavern Larry was now in began to run around, trying to flee from a possible threat to themselves. Looking back over his shoulder to see if he could spot his companions, he could not see any of them, for the hussle of activity within.
Turning around again to survey the deathly flames licking at the building, Larry spotted a lady, crying in the streets, being held back by two men from obviously trying to enter the burning wreck. Deciding to see what was the matter, Larry ran up to the three people, only to hear the lady's screams of histerical fit. The man holding the lady was having a tough time in holding her down. The other looked at Larry and yelled..."Sir! My sister's little girl is in there! She may be the only one left in the building! You appear to be of the heroic type...DO SOMETHING!!! PLEASE!!
Larry looked back around to see if anyone of his friends had seen. He could not find them in the crowd. What he did see, bothered him. A robed figure, standing in the shadows, watching the destruction with happiness. Behind him, two more shadows lurked. Without any more thought, Larry burst into a sprint toward the door of the Inn. He was determined to find that little girl. Then he would track down these suspects. Running through the door, Larry disappeared from sight.
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Back in the tavern...Mistral had been able to push her way to the door just in time to see Larry dart into the burning hell. Instantly her hand went down to her finger where she had on a ring of fire resistance. Larry had given it back to her, a little too soon, it appeared.
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