Jur'is

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"Elves are bound by the land, by honor, by a code of conduct and behavior that predates history. They live by a code that is more ingrained than learned. They are magical creatures, you know, more in tune to the waves and contortions of the mystical fabric than a human can know. Sure there are human magicians and some of them are quite good, in fact the most powerful wizards and witches of the world have all been humans, haven't they?"

"The elves use magic differently. We humans view the magical forces as tools for great feats of creation and destruction. The elves aren't that way. Every manipulation of the fabric is designed to enhance the world and to bring beauty and balance. These are concepts that we are just too young as a race to grasp. I'm just saying that perhaps the elves are better able to use magic and are more adept at it, that's why they don't draw as much attention as some of our own greatest magicians, both evil and good."

"What were you asking about, Mr. Ziles?" Jur'is had gotten lost in his lecture on the values of magic with the baker. "Oh, yes. The elf, Roald."

Gilbert Ziles, a nice looking man. Wisdom shone in his eyes and in his demeanor. People knew that they could get advice from the baker and that it would be thought out, good advice. He listened completely to a story. It was unfortunate, many thought, that Gilbert didn't want to be mayor. It was enough for him to run the bakery and to be on the council. His clashes with the overbearing Abbey were quite well known. For every moderate, temperate point that Gilbert brought forth, there was Abbey, promoting the status quo. A status quo that had made the thin arrogant man wealthy and powerful.

He had stopped Jur'is this morning to inquire about Roald's training. It wasn't often that the weapons master stopped in town and news of Roald had been long in coming. The Feast being only a week away, the elf-in-training and his friends would be coming back to town. Gilbert liked the wiry Jur'is despite warnings from the more gossip-prone citizens that Jur'is had been a double crossing spy during the Cobalt Battles in Eurnamarch. Ziles had learned that whatever truths or untruths that were floating around about people they essentially wanted nothing more than to be treated equally. Ziles always dropped a couple of sweetbread loaves into Jur'is' baskets after a transaction and that bit of kindness toward a man with a sweet-tooth had been rewarded with pleasant conversation that other residents of Haven wouldn't have believed was possible from the dark haired silent fighter.

"I sense that magic in Roald, Mr. Ziles. He has a sense for things, without being taught to look for the signs. If he can keep his wits about him and his defenses up, I think that he will be quite a leader. His instincts are very good." Jur'is always took great pride in talking of the studies and training at the school.

Not a headmaster, Jur'is was more of a special consultant. There were always needs for specially trained agents, and Jur'is was the best. He no longer fought battles or plied his craft in more than a training environment, but his legend was vast. Everyone knew of the Slashing Death Mercenary. Not everyone knew that Jur'is was that same man. Protecting one's identity and past was paramount for a mercenary, and despite the need to circulate a reputation, no one could put the reputation and the face in the same place. No one who still walked amoung the living, that was. Headmaster Armest knew that there were secrets that should be kept, but he was wise enough not to inquire to those secrets. Jur'is was smart enough not to volunteer. The arrangement worked. Jur'is remained the school's weapons master and Armest kept a blind eye toward the training idiosyncrasies that Jur'is took with the couple of students that he took special interest in every so often.

Shaking his hair from his eyes, Jur'is was still explaining about the magical connection. "Roald is a good fighter. He takes to the skill well and has all of the physical endowments that will make him successful. I think it is fortunate that he came to us for training. He could have likely been snatched up by some mage for a life of book study and physical deterioration. The boy wouldn't have liked that life, I know. In fact, I don't know how long he will stick with the rigors of our own training before he decides to become an adventurer or a traveler."

Ziles interrupted. "You think he's going to leave Haven, Master Jur'is?"

"Oh yes!" Jur'is smiled, showing the darkened teeth that were a sure sign of the sweet tooth that Gilbert had instinctively known was there. "Roald has a taste for wandering. He won't be satisfied until he knows what is beyond the next ridge and what lurks in the next town. He's a curious boy. Curiosity that put to good use will make him a better adult, and a credit to Haven." Jur'is knew of the wanderlust that infected the elf.

Gilbert questioned further. "What of this magic ability that you were telling me?"

"Well, Mr. Ziles. You see, the elves have a view of magic that is so old that it predates investigation. It is so much a part of them and their culture that they take it for granted. They don't test the limits, but merely use the magical fabric to enhance their lives. Roald is different because he has been exposed to so many humans from an early age. He has a curiosity. I encouraged him to use his ability to enhance his fighting and other skills." Jur'is knew that he had gone too far with the 'other skills' comment. Too much information. The baker was such an amiable man, it was easy to fall into his graces and be outgoing. Jur'is had enjoyed the conversation, but he knew when to end a talkative session. "In answer to your original question, Mr. Ziles. I think that anytime the town wants to employ my young Elven student and his friends. Well, I can't speak for his friends, but Roald would be willing. Snatch him up quickly though, my friend, I won't even be able to keep him around much longer."

With that the weapons-master strode out into the mid-day of Haven.

"Thank you, Jur'is." the baker said in his wake. He always like the boys and knew that their mischief was from boredom. It never harmed anyone. The rest of the council was always upset. But it was probably from a desire not to deal with their own children, who were usually more malicious than the Kona Gang.