Karradae's hut was simple enough. A small table in the sitting room was adorned with an opaline tablecloth. The soothing smell of nettle tea filled the room.
A young boy in white robes went scurrying away as the strangers entered. He ran behind the leg of an old man who stood across the room.
"Don't be rude, Sanfew," the man chastised. "They are guests." He turned to them. "Welcome to my home. What brings you to our peaceful village?"
"Only passing through, Karradae," Zharoun said as he shook Karradae's hand.
"Zharoun? I almost didn't recognize you. I can't believe the old Sage finally wants to pay me a visit."
"Busy, busy. I must intrude on your hospitality only a little while, for I see my friend Saren is about to have an anxiety attack." Sure enough, Saren was on edge, obviously thoughts of Falador's fate were heavy on his mind like a slab of granite.
"This is Kaisen, and the dwarf is Kalda," continued Zharoun.
"Nice to meet you all. This is my son, Sanfew." He pushed Sanfew out to see them. "He's a little shy, but I know he'll change. He'll have to, if he is to one day be the leader of the Druids in my stead."
"Surely you don't intend on dying just yet?"
"I'm an old man, Zharoun. If the opportunity arises to go out with a bang I will take it. Also, I am going to enter war. Yes, I know your reasons for coming. You need help in the battle, and you need information. I can help."
"You read me perfectly."
Karradae smiled. "You can't spend as much time with you as I have without understanding your motives. Here's the deal: we depart for Falador in two hours' time. Meet us down at the lakeshore."
"Of course. Thank you." Zharoun ushered them quickly out of the room.
07-Apr-2007 05:45:31