Calleslyn crossed the lobby of the Wizards' College, looking about for someone she knew well enough to talk to. The villa had been attacked by a demon, obviously sent to steal something, and Lady Tarissa had sent her here to find out what she could. Until now they had been reluctant to tell people what they knew of the infernal threat to the city, but having seen a demon openly, they could now ask questions without raising suspicion among the conspirators – whoever they were. Indeed, it would some strange if they did not.
The lobby, however, was relatively empty, so the elf decided to make her next port of call the library. It occupied a significant part of the building, and, while it was not a good place for socialising as such, there was always likely to be someone there. She stepped through the stone archway and looked around, the numerous stacks of books and scrolls hiding much of her view of the interior.
"Can I help you?"
She turned round to see the librarian peering up from a collection of scrolls, a slightly nervous smile on her face. Nariti knew a lot about books and scrolls, but rather less about the actual human world, which would not have made her Calleslyn's first choice for uncovering any wizards that might be involved in the dark arts. But at least she was present.
"Yes, perhaps," she said, coming over as the small, mousy woman reflexively smoothed her robes down. "I was wondering about the restricted section of the library."
"Oh," said Nariti, looking a little taken aback, "it's in the basement. And it is, well... it is restricted, you know. You need permission to read those books. They are about demons and things, you know. Not... well, not very nice at all."
"Yes," agreed Calleslyn, trying not to sound as if she was stating the obvious, "and I would need to get permission from you, would I not? As the librarian."
"Well, yes... yes, you would. That would be... or the Master of the College. But otherwise, yes. Um... why do you want to go to the restricted section?"
She decided for the direct approach. "My house has been attacked by a demon."
Nariti's eyes widened, and she physically jerked backwards, clutching out for a quill, as if for security. "Oh, my goodness me!" she managed, voice wavering.
"So, I was wondering... who have you given permission to recently? Has anyone been in the restricted section in the past few weeks?"
"You... you can't imagine that someone from the College...?" asked the librarian, her voice moving up half an octave to a virtual squeak, "I mean... that's... that's... Those books are restricted for a reason. I am very careful, I don't just let people in, you know. We couldn't be having with that sort of thing." She fiddled with her quill, looking almost as if she expected a demon to pop up from behind the stacks.
"So, nobody then?"
"No, no... nobody has been in there for a while. Well, except Valmor, and he had permission from the Master of the College. Something about defences, I think. But other than that, no... even I haven't been in there recently. There isn't much call for it. The books are perfectly safe."
Valmor – that was interesting. Calleslyn knew the man as a pompous and arrogant fool, but was he the sort to summon demons? At first the idea seemed absurd, since the man operated more by ingratiating himself with the wealthy and influential members of society. But if the thing beneath the city, whatever it was, was seeking to corrupt people, wouldn't they be the sort of people it looked for? And would Valmor be the kind to turn down an offer of true power if it was offered to him? She certainly wouldn't put it past him.
"Well, thank you, Nariti," she said, "I don't think I will need to use the restricted section myself, at least not yet," as a paladin, Lady Tarissa would probably be able to find more useful information on the demon and how to fight it. "But as long as there have been no strangers poking about with infernal tomes, I suppose I may to have to look further afield."
"Oh good," said the librarian, looking distinctly relieved, "that's very good to hear. Glad I could help." And she sat down at her desk again, spreading out the scrolls as Calleslyn turned away to find someone who might know more about sinister gossip than the socially isolated young woman.
"No, no," muttered, Nariti, half to herself, "there's been no strangers doing anything like that since the business with Ornejirhs."
Calleslyn turned round, frowning in puzzlement, "what business?"
The librarian looked up, as if startled by being heard, "um, you know, with the staff."
The elf walked back over to the desk, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Who's Ornejirhs? And what sort of name is that, anyway?"
"Southern. Um, I think. I mean, he looks southern, doesn't he? Oh, right, you don't know. But it was..." suddenly an expression of realisation crossed her face, "oh, of course, that's right, you were out of the city, doing dangerous things in the wilds. Anyway, he destroyed a magic staff, that's all I was saying."
"And this has a connection with demons?"
"Well, it was a demonic staff. Or diabolic, or something. Cursed and evil, anyway. He destroyed it for us, and banished the curse. They say he's a demon hunter, or something. From the south," she added again. "I think. Is it important?"
"My house has been attacked by a demon, and this man hunts demons," Calleslyn pointed out, reflecting that the librarian really didn't seem very savvy outside her narrow area of expertise, "where can I find him?"
──◊──
Ornejirhs turned out to have rented a moderately sized house on the outskirts of the city, almost on the opposite side to the adventurers' villa. The neighbourhood was quiet, suggesting that this might well be a man who valued his privacy, since surely somewhere nearer to the college would have been more convenient.
Calleslyn wondered again about the wisdom of coming on her own. Ornejirhs was something of a mystery, a stranger with knowledge of demons who had turned up out of nowhere. But, in a way, that counted in his favour. The little they knew of the thing beneath the city implied that it had taken a long time to establish its control, which meant that an outsider should be free from its taint. Of course, there was always the possibility that it had summoned him here specifically, but that didn't fit with the fact that he had clearly destroyed a demonic artefact, rather than stealing it for himself, or at least preserving it for future use.
Everything suggested that the stranger was what he claimed to be; a hunter of demons, which was exactly the sort of person she needed information from. She wouldn't tell him about her fears for the city, but it would be reasonable enough to ask the expert about the demon that had invaded her home. Besides, she wasn't exactly defenceless.
So why did she have a nagging feeling that something was strange about this mysterious arrival? Perhaps it was just the name, which didn't sound as if it belonged to any culture she knew of.
So it was with a slight sense of trepidation that she knocked on the door to the rented house. She could hear someone moving about inside, but all the curtains were drawn, hiding any view of the interior. She knocked again, and this time heard footsteps approaching the door... a door that was soon opened by a woman in a most remarkable costume.
It looked, at first glance, as if it ought to have been armour, but that someone had forgotten some of the pieces. Or, to be more accurate, and forgotten almost all of them. The woman wore tight leather boots to just below her knees, and metal bracers around each wrist, and apart from that... well, technically, it was mail armour, but it didn't look as if it would protect very much. Two triangular pieces of tightly woven steel mail covered each breast, with a narrow armoured strap in between and additional leather straps over each shoulder, and round her back. That last strap was tight enough for the pieces of mail to raise up the woman's ample breasts, providing them with significant support, and emphasising a rather impressive cleavage.
And that, aside from the bracers and a silver necklace decorated with a carved piece of pale green stone was all she wore above the waist. Her shoulders and upper arms were bare, her long blonde hair falling in rivulets down her back, and her bare waist showed a perfect hourglass figure. Calleslyn's eyes involuntarily wandered lower, to something that, even being charitable, she was hard pressed to describe as a skirt.
It, too, consisted of two triangular pieces of tight mail, albeit more elongated than those of her upper garment. They hung, front and back, from a narrow belt covered with metal segments, and did nothing at all to conceal the woman's hips or thighs. Above this curious garment was a second, heavier, belt, from which hung a narrow sword, of the sort sometimes favoured by the people of the south.
For there was no doubt that the woman was from one of the southern lands. Her skin – most of which was on display – was pale, her hair pure blonde and her eyes dazzlingly blue. Calleslyn decided that the woman couldn't have gone out dressed like this very often, since, aside from the obvious effect on the menfolk of Haredil, with skin that colour, she surely ought to have got sunburned.
"You wanted something?" asked the woman, her distinct accent again betraying her southern origins.
Calleslyn was aware that she had been staring. Not that that was an unreasonable reaction to such a costume, but it was not very polite. She was still trying to work out what the point of it was, unless this was some sort of exotic dancer. The sword rather counted against that theory, but what kind of warrior would want to wear armour that left almost her entire body unprotected, she had no idea – Lady Tarissa was from the south, and she wore full plate.
"I was looking for Ornejirhs. I was told he lives here."
"Yes, he does," the oddly dressed woman eyed the elf with suspicion, "but who are you, and why do you want to speak to him?"
"My name is Calleslyn. I am a magician, from the Wizards' College here. I understand Ornejirhs is an expert on demons, and I wanted his advice."
"It is true that he knows much about fighting evil," admitted the woman, then stood silently for a moment, critically appraising the elven magician. After an uncomfortable pause, she opened the door further, although her expression still did not look much more welcoming. "You had better come inside."
The interior of the house was shadowy, the drawn curtains keeping out the direct sunlight, although they were not heavy enough for the rooms to be truly dark. The strange woman led Calleslyn into the first room on the right of the corridor, which turned out to be fairly spacious, and well decorated.
The room was lit with a reddish light, thanks to the colour of the curtain that covered the window. Most of the furniture looked to have been purchased in Haredil, but there were exotic hangings on the wall whose origins the elf could not place. There was a long, curving sofa, which looked local, but numerous scatter cushions across the floor that did not. This unknown magician and his strange companion, then, had brought at least some more portable items with them, whether from their home, or from some other place that they had visited.
"I am Imrilda," said the woman, "I am Ornejirhs' fighting companion. Please, sit anywhere you like."
