Bit of a short chapter this time. That's mainly because I'm building up to the next 2 or 3 chapters which will take place in the past and the chapters that I've been looking forward to writing the most. Although I'm most likely going to put out another "Remember Me Fondly" chapter before I work on Chapters 6, 7 and 8. But until then, I hope you guys and girls enjoy this one:

[p=center]Chapter 5 – A Reason For The Name[/p]

By the time Melia and Gilean had finished purchasing their horses, Semphil had been waiting by the great oak outside of the village. D'jjro's saddlebags were packed full with Semphil's purchases, although the man in question had several small leather pouches resting against the tree. A brush was in Semphil's hand as he ran it in smooth, tender motions down Djjro's body who for his part, was shivering in evident pleasure. It was a rather uncomfortable scene, so Gilean and Melia had been making as much noise as possible as they cantered over to him.

Semphil looked up and waved in greeting to them, though he continued to brush D'jjro's coat unabated. “That was fast.” he moved to D'jjro's other side and continued brushing his coat, “Thought I would have a bit more time before you got here.”

Melia frowned, “I thought we were rather slow actually.”

“Purchasing quality horses usually takes a long time.” giving an appreciative nod towards Gaia and Neyla. D'jjro whinnied in protest, but was quickly placated by a quick scratch behind the ears by Semphil.

Gilean wrinkled his nose, “Where are Samantha and Damien? Aren't those their bags?” pointing to the pouches propped against the tree.

Semphil gave him a curious look before answering him, “They're in the forest. Said they'd be back in a few minutes.” Semphil gave a few more strokes of the brush before returning it to his saddlebags. D'jjro looked visibly disappointed. “But since you two are here now, we can just go to them.”

“Why not just wait for them to come back?” asked Melia, although she seemed to know this was a pointless question.

“They've been in there for a little over a half-hour now.” said Semphil grimly.

Gilean and Melia wordlessly divided the purchases of the day among all three horses evenly in a quick and efficient manner. Semphil nodded with approval and swung onto D'jjro's saddle, easing him into a smooth canter towards the forest.

The trio reached the far-off looking forest rather quickly, although Gilean supposed that was only normal when mounted. Semphil was in the lead, while Melia and Gilean brought up the rear. Both Melia and Gilean surreptitiously loosened the weapons in their holdings as they neared the darkened space of the forest proper. It never hurt to be too careful. Semphil checked his pace and settled D'jjro into a trot as they passed through the thicket of trees.

The forest looked quiet on the surface, but Gilean's other senses told him that it was thrumming with life. Branches overhead would shake slightly as a squirrel darted from between the trees, small nurbles darted into the safety of bushes when the horses passed through and occasionally there would be the quiet chirping of weather-tail birds. Every few paces, D'jjro would place his snout near the ground and start sniffing, much like a hunting dog would. Gilean was impressed that the horse was able to follow a trail so accurately. But more than that, he was confused as to the trail they were following: He was sure it was Samantha and Damien's trail, but it was a meandering one that seemed to be entirely random. There was another point of concern.

“Semphil.” said Gilean and the party stopped moving, “Those tracks.” pointing to a large indentation in the forest bed, “Do you recognize those?”

He frowned and shook his head, “Not any beast I would recognize. I'm not even sure there's something that large in this area.” His gaze wandered over a set of three large claw marks that were gouged into a very thick-looking tree. Several other trees bore similar markings to it.

“Could be their friend that Samantha was talking about earlier.” suggested Melia, although the tracks seemed familiar to her, but she couldn't place where she had seen them before.

“Maybe.” pondered Semphil. He came to a decision, “Just in case it isn't. Weapons free.” Gilean's sword and Melia's axe popped out of their respective baldrics as Semphil soundlessly slid his sword out of his sheath. “Keep a loose formation and make a scouting net. I'll take point”

The three quickly organized themselves into an arrowhead formation with Semphil taking the lead. Gilean and Melia trusted Neyla and Gaia to follow D'jjro's lead as they scanned their surroundings. They moved in silence for several minutes, eyes tirelessly scanning their surroundings with an incredible vigilance. There was a change in the atmosphere that was so minute that Gilean almost missed it. There was a sudden absence of animal sounds near his side.

“Left!” shouted Gilean, twisting Neyla's reins and clapping his heels to her sides urging her to move.

He was just in time as a silver blur whooshed past Neyla, a glint of it's claws caught in the scant sunlight that streamed in through the treeline. The beast roared in fury as it missed its quarry and was now caught in the middle between Melia, Semphil and Gilean. Melia's eyes widened at the beast and she breathed out, “Night Stalker...”

The Night Stalker was a massive beast with a size that was a little bigger than D'jjro and nearly double his width; its powerful four limbs were wreathed in knotted muscles, obsidian colored claws extending from its large paws dug into the ground. It was covered in pure silver fur, it's body rumbling as the beast growled fiercely at them. Pure white eyes blindly stared back at Gilean that lacked even a pupil, fangs were bared with two larger fangs that looked more like tusks dripped with saliva. Every slight movement that anyone made, the beast whipped its head around in the direction of the sound. Blood-lust poured out from the beast in such thick waves that Gilean was shocked that he didn't notice it before it had gotten so close.

But this kind of situation was a familiar one for the two of them; Gilean and Melia looked at each other and nodded once. Gilean pursed his lips and whistled in short and random bursts, overlapping with the whistling Melia was also making. The torrent of noise confused the beast, though its growling did not diminish in intensity, it waved its head warily to each side trying to discern the exact location of the noise. Semphil moved in for the kill, his sword raised high when a cry rang out, “Artok, stop!”

Were it not for the fact that Gilean recognized the voice, either he or Melia would have gone in for the kill using the momentary confusion. Still, they kept their weapons at the ready, warily watching the Night Stalker. Samantha emerged breathlessly out of a small copse of trees just behind Semphil with Damien following not too far behind. The Night Stalker had immediately stopped growling and was making a noise that sounded remarkably like it was...purring?

Simply by Samantha's presence, this savage beast had turned from a dangerous foe into an overly large kitten as it practically bounced it's way over to Samantha with a wagging tail. It showed a complete disregard for the three armed warriors surrounding it that bordered the level of pure contempt. With a knee on the ground and her arms around the Night Stalker, Samantha gave them a guilty smile, “I see you met our friend.”

“...So you had found Artok in the middle of a meal and waited for him to finish. Then all of a sudden he ran off looking like he heard something and got away from you.” summed up Semphil.

Despite the odd situation and the pressing need for an explanation, Semphil insisted that they table the conversation for later. They were supposed to be on a schedule after all. So after receiving several assurances from both Samantha and Damien that Artok would be no threat to them, they had begun the first leg of their journey. Gilean was concerned about the wisdom of traveling along the public roads with an animal as intimidating as Artok.

But continuing to travel through the forest would delay their journey greatly and so the road was the only option. Still, Semphil insisted that he scout ahead first to make sure that when they first came out of the forest, there were no people around to see a well-armed party emerging from the dark expanse of the trees.

From there, their traveling speed had increased tremendously once they were on the well-maintained highways of Synarth. Contrary to his expectations, the travellers they had passed by on the roads did not react with as much fear as he thought they would. Perhaps the combination of a beautiful elvalya on a fierce predator like Artok was somehow exotic to them or perhaps it was that they had seen far stranger sights.

Gilean wasn't sure how many of them even noticed that Damien was riding Artok as well, just behind Samantha. Indeed, they seemed more concerned by Melia than anything, which annoyed Gilean a great deal. Not that he showed it.

As the first day of at least a two week journey, they did not ride too hard, but maintained enough speed to at least set the overall pace of the future journey. And despite whatever questions they had, Melia and Gilean deferred to Semphil's judgement on the matter and agreed to save it for later.

Later happened to be when they were setting up their camp for the night, the sun having set quite a while ago and a fire that had been set up after a quick spell from Damien. Hung over the fire was a tough clay pot out of Gilean and Melia's travel gear currently holding a simmering stew of the wild game they had caught and herbs from their supplies.

Occasionally, Gilean would stir the pot a few times, releasing the delicious smell of cooked meat into the air. Samantha had an arm slung over Artok's neck, both as a source of comfort and also to prevent him from devouring the stew.

“That's right.” answered Samantha, “He must have sensed you three following us and gone after you, only...”

“Only?” repeated Semphil, gesturing for her to continue.

Samantha made a difficult face as if she were mulling over a theory rather than a proper answer, “Normally Artok would either warn Damien or myself that someone was following us. But he took off without saying anything!” frowning at Artok who chose that moment to start licking her face. Samantha spluttered and pushed Artok away, wiping her face hurriedly.

Melia couldn't help but let out a small snort. Samantha glared at her reproachfully as she continued to clean off her face. “Do you have any idea why he did that?” asked Semphil, ignoring the interruption, or perhaps he was forestalling a new one. Gilean wasn't too sure.

Samantha shook her head, “No. I have no idea why he took off like that...More than that, I really need to apologize to you three!” she was bowing her head regretfully.

“We're sorry, we should have explained more to you guys!” added in Damien, also bowing his head.

“Yes. You should have.” reproached Semphil. The two who were practically prostrating themselves flinched at his cold tone. Artok raised his great head and growled menacingly at Semphil. “However...it was also my mistake to go into the forest after you had said you would return.” said Semphil gravely, “And for that I wish to offer my sincerest apologies as well.”

Gilean and Melia were suitably taken aback. Semphil had essentially placed all of the blame on himself for choosing to go after Damien and Samantha, when neither of them had raised an objection. Because they didn't want to disrupt the flow, Gilean and Melia both apologized as well. It was a solemn moment, one that strengthened the trust between everyone in the party.

Of course it was at that point in time, that a very loud and drawn-out stomach growl pierced the environment. Damien slapped a hand to his stomach immediately in a vain attempt to suppress the sound, a blush rising in his cheeks.

“Hehe.” “Pft-Really, can you not spoil this moment.” “Haha!” even Samantha who was try to chasten Damien couldn't help but snicker. After a moment, the culprit himself started laughing with everyone else. The mood immediately became more cheerful as the tense atmosphere was dissipated almost instantly.

An amicable air settled around as Damien eagerly handed out bowls to everyone and reached for the pot, before stopping with one hand frozen. He looked cautiously towards everyone else and after seeing their bemused smirks, continued his movement and shamelessly filled his bowl to the brim. Samantha gave a tired look at what was clearly a familiar scene, but it was still fresh for the rest of them and nearly sent them into another spiel of laughter.

Gilean had already fed Neyla, but he couldn't resist giving her a sample when she gently bumped her head against his. Samantha who was watching this heartwarming scene asked, “What's her name?”

“Hmm?” mumbled Gilean, absently scratching behind Neyla's ears; the warm meal had already begun to get him drowsy.

“Your horse.” repeated Samantha, “Does she have a name?” laughing a bit at her own enquiry.

Understanding filled his eyes, “Ah, well I thought Neyla was a pretty good fit for her.”

“Neyla...huh? Is fearlessness really appropriate for a horse though? Unless you're taking the literal meaning of the name.” said Samantha doubtfully. For her part, Neyla looked indignant and snorted angrily through her nostrils, not even flinching when Artok started to growl at her.

“Point for Neyla, I think.” laughed Damien. “I guess I shouldn't be surprised, given the long memories of Elves, but that's still a rather old and obscure story.”

“Well that explains why I haven't heard about it before.” said Melia, “Do you, Semphil?”

Semphil shook his head, “I'm afraid not, though I thought I was well-versed on human literature.”

“Well that's because Neyla wasn't a human, she was an elf.” explained Damien with shining eyes.

“A fan of books then?” asked Semphil with an easy smile.

“Definitely! Fiction or Non-fiction, they all offer something different; something unique, even if they're talking about the same thing! In fact Neyla's story was a rather interesting one in that much of her tale was historical fact!” enthused Damien.

“Well since we're all sitting around a campfire already, a story would be good, especially since I haven't heard it before either.” said Melia, leaning back comfortably onto a bedroll and looking at Damien expectantly.

“It's a bit of a long tale though.” he said almost regretfully, though he seemed more worried at the prospect at not telling the story rather than the length of it.

“You've piqued our interest now” began Semphil, “And you're going to have to satisfy our curiosity before any of us gets any sleep.” Dry chuckles came from all sides of the camp, everyone was apparently of the same mind as Semphil.

A wide grin on his face, Damien straightened up on the log he was sitting on and cleared his throat a few times. Ahem, Ahem. “It was in the early years of the Age of Strife, more than six hundred years ago to date, that racial tensions were at their highest. Some may say that relations between the different peoples of Eberron are quite bad now, but this is not so. The occasional skirmish, while by no means a minor thing, is the very worst outcome we see today in failed dialogues. Back then, wars and genocides were a matter of course; an almost annual event that cast the world in shadow.”

“Perhaps it was also because it was a time of isolation, for very few people traveled between the different continents. This was partly due to civil strife in each continent combined with a lack of interest in naval expansion due to the dangers the Singing Sea presented in those days. Still, I digress: Our story begins on the continent of Alfheim in a small elven village known as Dylere'el located in the Tranquility region, though it was known by the more charming name 'Bloody Plains' in those days.”

“Tranquility is the location of The Shyear though, isn't it?” asked Semphil curiously, “Is that not mostly a settlement for halflings?”

“There are a few human villages here and there, but yes; mostly halflings live in that region. Virtually no elves are there, despite the abundant forests they have there. The reason being has to do a great deal with Neyla's story, although the short answer is that the elves were ashamed about their actions all those years ago. Sometimes a long memory can be a curse.” explained Damien, adding the last part as an afterthought, though his eyes took on a melancholic look.

“Shamed enough that they probably wouldn't write a lot about what happened?” guessed Melia.

Damien smiled mysteriously, his eyes glittering with amusement, “They would deny any such accounts though.” looking at Gilean when he said this.

“It's not like it was a particularly taboo subject.” said Gilean, answering the unspoken question.

“Oh yeah! You were from Alfheim originally weren't you?” asked Samantha.

“...I was.” he answered tersely.

“Aren't both of you from Stevrak?” asked Melia who, sensing Gilean's discomfort, tried to change the subject. Though she did seem to be genuinely curious about something. “Or is this something that all elves know?”

Samantha awkwardly scratched her head and said rather sheepishly, “Wellll....I only know this because of Damien. Before he told me the story, I had never even heard about this.” her expression saddened for a bit, “It was a shame when I found out too. I mean it's not like it wasn't a nice piece of history, I was definitely not happy about the actions my people took, but it was more about the fact that they continued to hide it. Even until this day.”

“Well let's not keep it a secret for too much longer. Let's keep going with the story!” said Melia excitedly. Semphil leaned forward and looked expectantly at Damien and everyone's eyes fell upon the young storyteller.

Grinning at his attentive audience, Damien cleared his throat a few times before continuing with his tale. “Blood Plains was a truly apt name, for the ground had been soaked with the blood of fallen humans and elves over countless battles; the dominant races in that region who each warred with each other for control. Though it was not for an understandable reason of simply wanting more land for growing food or raising settlements, though I'm sure that would have been a part of it. No a great deal behind this fighting, and most likely all of the similar fights, was a pure and unbridled hatred of the unknown. Even today, half-elves are viewed as something shameful. Why? Because some of that lingering resentment between our two races still persists even to this day. That is why some view the Cataclysm as a divine event; one that served to unite the races together in one cause.”

Samantha gently nudged Damien in the side and mouthed, 'Stay on topic', though it was with a smile. Damien blushed and seemed to visibly struggle with returning to the original story, “Neyla was a young elf living in the village of Dylere'el, who had long since grown weary of these endless battles between her people and the humans. And even though she hated the humans for killing her mother, the grief and heartbreak she felt far outstripped that and she begged her father, who was the village chief, to stop all of this fighting. But these pleas were ignored by everyone in her village.”

“It came to pass one day, after a particularly fierce skirmish with the humans outside of their lands, that Neyla had made a remarkable discovery. There, somehow inside the forest where guards kept strict watch over for signs of any intruders, was a young human boy by the name of Mathias.”

“Mathias...Veliance?” said Semphil incredulously.

“The one and only.” nodded Damien gravely, “A mere 14 years of age in our story, but it was only two years later that he would become King Mathias Veliance; the human who helped broker a peace treaty with elves and many other races in Tranquility.”

“As you might have already guessed, this part of the tale is a largely unwritten and unknown history to many people.” chuckled Damien, “There resting against a tree, was a young man, more of a boy really, who was badly wounded. Around him lay the corpses of two elves; their killer could not have been more obvious. The boy had passed out from his wounds, his sword lay far away from him and not a weapon could be seen on his person. Neyla knew that this was just a boy. But he was also a human. The same humans that had killed her mother and slaughtered so many of her friends. So she picked up the boy's sword and made her way to the sleeping Mathias with trembling steps.”

“His eyes opened, just before she had reached him. Still, he had no weapon. He was wounded. It would be easy to kill him. Neyla knew it and so did Mathias. Perhaps that is why he did not cry out, he simply looked at Neyla as she looked at him. She hefted the sword and the boy closed his eyes as he awaited his end. Yet the killing blow never came. His eyes opened and all he saw was a young elf girl, crying with eyes filled with anger and grief. She screamed at him, hoping for him to make the first move. To give her a reason to kill him. Mathias said nothing, perhaps knowing that though the girl in front him was one of those hated elves, she was not his enemy.”

“The poison that was in her heart had been vented out and all that filled Neyla was that same hollow feeling she had over the endless fighting. Tossing away the sword, she began to treat Mathias' wounds. It took two days of nursing for Mathias to recover some of his strength back, though in that entire time, not a single word passed between the two.”

“Well, they probably couldn't understand each other, right?” said Melia, leaning back on her hands as she stretched her back.

“Quite the opposite actually: Both the elves and humans were firm believers of the phrase 'Know your enemy', and so had taken great pains to study each other's language. It is possible that Neyla had only a rudimentary understanding of the human language, but Mathias, who was a nobleman's son, would've possessed an excellent grasp of Elvish.”

“They didn't speak at all though?” asked Melia, “Why?”

Semphil answered Melia before Damien could in a sombre tone, “Because there had been too much hurt on both sides. They were both very young and probably neither one of them knew what to say to the other.”

“Well put.” acknowledged Damien, tipping an imaginary hat towards Semphil. The dark-skinned warrior gave a quick smile in return. “They were both playing a dangerous game, discovery could mean death for both of them. No matter how young she was, Neyla made her own decision to betray her people. Alas, it all soon came to an end on the third day, when Mathias had recovered enough of his strength to leave the forest, that they were discovered.”

“Unbeknownst to the two, they were being tracked by a separate detachment of elven scouts, whose previous group had gone missing some two days hence trying to capture a high ranking officer of the enemy. By pure happenstance, Neyla discovered that they were being followed, and so she helped Mathias to escape the forest. These were well-trained scouts however, who knew their quarry was on the move and they pursued him with a cold efficiency. And who should be leading this group but Neyla's own father? He had thought that the human had somehow tricked Neyla into helping him. Unable to make a decision, he apprehended both of them to be brought back to the village.”

“It was soon made clear what Neyla's real intentions were when she helped Mathias escape that night. The two were quickly captured again and brought before the village. Neyla's father's wrath was terrible. His own flesh and blood helping a human? The same race that had killed his wife? Unthinkable. Unforgivable. Again and again he beat Neyla, as many times as he could. As hard as he could. So great was his fury that he persisted far beyond what would be a normal punishment. Indeed, already many of the surrounding elves were running up to disentangle the two before the worst outcome occurred. But one person moved faster than they could act. The brutality of it was too much for Mathias to bear as he broke free of his bindings and managed to intervene. Unfortunately; Mathias was too late.”

“As he held the small girl's body in disbelief, he realized again just how small she was. Realization swiftly hit the elves, but none hit so hard as it did with Neyla's father. He looked on in horror at what he'd done to his own daughter, his killing rage had evaporated just as quickly as it had come. His shock redoubling when he saw who cradled her so tenderly was not him, as it should have been. Nor was it any of his fellow kin. It was a small human boy. The same one he had chased down, whom he had crossed blades with and who he had been about to kill.

“Mathias was no priest, or for that matter, any kind of healer. It might have been that moment that he realized just how powerless he was. As the other elves began to recover from their shock, they saw Mathias prostrate himself, begging them in their own tongue to save the girl who had saved him. Neyla's father stood motionless as elves swarmed around him, gently extricating Neyla from Mathias' own tender hold. Their priests muttered their spells to resurrect the girl, druids rushing to seal any obvious wounds they could see, anything that might've helped; they tried. They tried so many times.”

“Magic is a tricky thing. I consider myself to be pretty good with the Elemental School and fairly knowledgeable about the other five schools. The magic that priests deal with belongs to the Spirit School; though they would get quite angry at me and say that their Gods weren't spirits. But the Spirit School is about so much more than practicing spells and focusing on one's mana flow. Especially in the case of the Gods. Mana is used to send a prayer and build a connection between the priest and the deity. These prayers don't go unnoticed, but they can be unanswered. As it was in the case of Neyla. No matter how long they prayed or how loudly they begged when their mana had been exhausted; Neyla stayed unmoving and grew colder and colder.”

“At the end of the day, Neyla was buried in a modest grave, her funeral all the more significant as a peace treaty that had been signed between Mathias and the chief of Neyla's village. One that played a very large role in ending the conflicts of the Blood Plains, for once the other warring elves and humans saw this splinter group warring together, were proper dialogues carried out at one table. For the elves, their spokesperson was the elf Elia who went around to the other villages, urging her fellow elves to participate in an open dialogue. For the humans, none were more outspoken than the young man Mathias; who was able to win over enough people over to his side. There were quite a few dissenters, but more that ultimately favored peace. A tenuous, strained peace; but peace nonetheless.”

After a few moments, Melia piped up (almost indignantly), “That's it? What about Neyla? It seems like she played a pretty damn big role in this!” It almost seemed like she was accusing Damien of falsehood.

“I find that quite strange as well. Why did they not honor Neyla as she so rightly deserved?” chimed in Semphil.

“Mathias wanted it to be known. The Elves did not however.” said Gilean, who had listened to the story quietly so far. He was surprised at how much Damien knew about it. Perhaps Mathias did leave some mention of Neyla after all he mused. He could see some confusion in Melia and Semphil's eyes, though they appeared to have some inkling of what he meant. “We're a proud race, you know?” scoffed Gilean, almost mockingly. “Children are extremely precious to the Elves, mainly because we're not a very fertile race to begin with. So, to have a peace fostered on the death of an elven child, and at the hands of her own parent of all things, would have been too great a shame to bear.”

“...Quite the cowardly thing to do.” commented Semphil.

“...Yup.” agreed Gilean.

“Despite his own personal objections, Mathias honored the wishes of the Elves, hoping to avoid any further conflict with them.” continued Damien, “But-” he paused with a small smile, “His knowledge of Elvish came in handy again as he honored Neyla's memory in his own way two years after he had been crowned king, he elected to change the name of the region.”

Samantha took over the explanation for the benefit of Semphil and Melia: “In Elvish, Neyla means 'Tranquil Flower'.”

Neyla's namesake took that cue as an opportunity to whinny in pride, eliciting a chuckle from Gilean who gave her a quick scratch underneath her chin. “You told it well.” Damien looked up from the fire that was still crackling merrily in the middle of their campsite, “The story, I mean.”

“Thanks.” he scratched his cheek uncertainly with one finger, “Sorry if I kept getting off topic.”

“Even when you did, you did so in a very informative and thoughtful manner. Thank you for telling it.” praised Semphil sincerely.

“Mmh! Definitely a good story!” exclaimed Melia. She lightly punched Gilean's shoulder, “Why can't you tell stories like that?” chided Melia.

“You never asked.” drawled Gilean.

They all laughed, which helped to dispel the somewhat macabre mood the story had brought on. “It's getting late though. I'll take first watch if no one has any objections.” declared Semphil. No one raised any objections. “Samantha. Gilean.” said Semphil, suddenly addressing them both, “I know elves can Trance, but I'd still feel more comfortable setting up an official watch. I hope that you can pardon an old man's worries.” laughed Semphil.

“Of course we understand. Trancing isn't infallible after all.” confessed Samantha with a somewhat embarrassed smile. So the schedule was made with Samantha taking the second watch, Damien the third, Melia the fourth and Gilean rounding off the night. He thanked Melia wordlessly for the extra bit of sleep he'd get, though he knew in his heart he'd probably wouldn't get a very good one. Despite these doubts he laid down on his bedroll next to Melia's (Neyla was on his other side) and quickly succumbed to his fatigue.

Some Basic Geography

The main setting in this book is in the world of Eberron. A familiar name to be sure, though I took the artistic liberty of making my own continents (well, except for Neverwinter).

Just to give you guys a basic idea, I'll outline the 5 major continents of Eberron:

1. Stevrak

2. Bravn

3. Ryzel

4. Neverwinter

5. Alfheim

As of the present chapters, Gilean and his party are on the continent of Bravn within the Synarth Kingdom. Their current destination, the town of Auverdale, is located in the neighboring country of Lestaf