Cordelia barged through the worn wooden doors of the 'Fool's Gold' tavern with a grimace on her regal face, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the cacophony of perverse comments that were muttered by the patrons as she passed by. Her dirt coated gold high heels struck the old wooden floor with significant force, the hem of her flowing gown displayed all the signs of a journey gone awry, its tattered silk threads dragged along the wood grain with every step. She gave her voluminous copper hair a shake, brushing away the loose pieces of foliage that had become tangled within it.
A drunken patron attempted to reach a hopeful hand towards her, desiring to have the exotic beauty planted in his lap. But he was sent crashing back into his booth with a flick of Cordelia's finger, a sight that greatly amused his drinking partners. A dark glare made sure that he didn't make an unwise second attempt.
The witch had spent the previous few days in search of an ancient amulet, sought by her monarch, Queen Meira B'Audair. The amulet itself wasn't close to being an impressive item, merely being a family heirloom that had been stolen during a siege two centuries prior that left the vaults of the Shiwl kingdom depleted. Jewels, gold, finely crafted regalia, the raiders had plundered a signicant fortune before making their narrow escape after the arrival of reinforcements, losing many of their party in the process.
It had seemed like a reasonably simple task when it had been given to her, though she had little care for its sentimental value. The wealth of the Shiwl kingdom had been rebuilt over the time following the siege, becoming vast enough for such small pieces of jewellery to be considered meaningless against the horde of gold and precious gems that filled the impenetrable vaults that replaced the their inferior counterparts. But that didn't stop Queen Meira from reclaiming what had been stolen from her predecessors, sending her agents to the furthest reaches of the continent to seek out and locate every piece.
Sentimentality was something witches such as Cordelia were taught to ignore, the nature of her occupation resulted in them leading an almost nomadic life, forced to pick up and leave whenever they needed or forced to. However, unlike her sistren, Cordelia found stability within the white stone walls surrounding Shiwl, living a certain life of luxury most of her kind couldn't have imagined. It certainly flew in the face of what she had been taught during her time as a novice. But Cordelia's ambitions had always been too potent to let her settle for a life of bubbling cauldrons and potions crafting in a hovel sat at the center of a gloomy forest.
In just a short time, the young witch had become somewhat of a celebrity within the kingdom. She exuded beauty and glamour, seeming perfectly suited amongst the aristocracy of the kingdom, always dressed in resplendent gowns made from the finest silks and furs. Cordelia became a regular fixture of the social calendar, always found sitting in the royal stands during some of Shiwl's most prominent events, becoming somewhat of an obsession for many of the kingdom's male folk.
But with such comfort came high expectations. Whenever Cordelia was called upon by her monarch, or the other members of the royal family, she was expected to answer their call. No matter what, Cordelia carried out her assigned tasks flawlessly, regardless of how pointless or how mundane they might have appeared, dancing to whatever tune she was expected to. If there happened to be some existential threat to the kingdom, she would be the one to uncover the plot and stamp it out. An outbreak of disease would require her to utilize her talents in alchemy to search for the cure. Such requests were usually made with her strengths in mind.
Cordelia had grown so used to using her powers and knowledge for trivial quests that it came as some surprise when she was tasked by her queen with locating such a seemingly unimportant jewel, a quest that would take her beyond the boundaries of the kingdom. It was a beautiful creation, that she was certain of, but there was nothing innately special about it that could require the services of Shiwl's sole magic caster to seek it out. But if there was one thing she knew as in depth as her magical talents, it was the need to carefully navigate the chaotic world of politics. If she wanted to ensure that she could maintain the comfort and luxury she had become accustomed to, she needed to do everything she could to ingratiate herself to her monarch.
Initially, she had accepted the quest with a degree of amusement, naively assuming that all she would need to do was pick up the trace of the original invaders that had sacked the kingdom centuries ago, using historical texts and surviving records to discover where the descendants of the invaders had ended up. She departed from the secure walls of the kingdom with just a basic assortment of equipment, all tucked away in a set of durable leather saddle bags. Despite being urged to dress down for the journey, Cordelia had instead selected a purple ceremonial gown. It was a purely vain choice, prioritising an outfit flattered every inch of her magically enhanced body, detailed with pure white swan feathers encompassing her décolletage and a waist amplifying bodice, complete with tall gold heels ill suited for stirrups. It was a conscious decision of hers to travel light, allowing her overconfidence and lack of experience with the wider world to get the better of her.
However, Cordelia soon discovered just how much of an uphill struggle she had unecessarily created for herself. Most of the first day had been spent on uncovering details of the invaders, using old pieces of parchment and battered tomes she had borrowed from the palace's vast library, piecing together some semblance of a map she could follow. Unfortunately, that map forced to navigate her way through densely packed forests and the most narrow roads that ran parallel with deadly cliff edges, continually having to avoid the various bandits and highwayman that inhabited the less than pleasent parcels of land. By the time she pinned down what she believed to be the most likely location for the amulet, she was more than ready to do anything to get the entire ordeal over with, to snatch the amulet she had come to loath and bring it back to the queen.
Cordelia came to the conclusion that the raiders had used some of their ill gotten gains to purchase a few acres of land towards the eastern regions, she only hoped that the amulet wasn't a part of the deal that led to their land ownership. She rode in to a small settlement, made up predominantly of humans, many of whom happened to be the descendants of the men she sought. Many watched her with suspicion as her horse trotted along the cobbled streets, curious as to why such a glamourous sorceress would set foot in their secluded village, but Cordelia was far past caring about what any of them thought, she just hoped that her luck would finally shine through what had been a wretched ordeal for her.
Sauntering up to the wooden bar, Cordelia placed a few silver pieces down and waited for someone to serve her, taking a quick glance at what remained of her pristine gown, letting her lips turn to a deep frown when she tried to estimate how many inches the hem of her skirt had lost. Much to her surprise -- given the grizzled and less than welcoming appearance of the tavern goers -- a young, golden haired woman emerged through the doorway, smiling brightly at the witch as she approached.
"Good evening, never seen you around before. Always glad to see a fresh face every now and then, makes up for all the sour expressions we usually get in here," the bar maid greeted with a wink, earning a small grumble of disagreement from those closest to the bar. She leaned over and placed her hands flat on the bar top. "My name is Susan, what would you like to have?"
"Cordelia A'Shyra," Cordelia replied, leaning an arm against the bar, unconcerned by the spilled liquor that stained the sleeve of her gown. "I would like a glass of Lishain wine, please."
"Wow, you really aren't from around these parts. I'm sorry, but we don't carry anything from Lishain, not since the embargos were put in place," Susan responded with an apologetic smile, stepping to the side and presented the incredibly limited range of barrels she had on the shelves behind her. "Stout, red wine, and mead are all we have. But if I were you, I'd avoid the wine, I suspect that the producer is using something other than grapes to make it, I despair to imagine what it might be."
