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Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
There are days when I look back at the times I spent on the mortal plane. Memories of my travels on dark roads, staying in run down inns, journeying with the strangest of folk. Indeed, there are few memories from those times that warm my heart.
Sometimes I wake up at night, those memories ripping me from my reverie. They are the memories of death, containing both friend and foe, of gruesome acts I wish I never witnessed nor perpetrated. They are the memories of betrayal and shame. Constantly they hover in the back of my mind, specters of a past that tries to drain away my soul at every waking moment.
I admit, I have done horrible things, acts that have twisted part of my soul. Some were out of necessity, some of lust, some of greed. I chose them, all the while knowing what I would have to live with. Truth be told, I never knew that the torment would be so great. I would, however, make the same choices again.
Dead babies, speaking with demons, even Habit the hobbit, those are memories I can handle. Those are the memories of encounters long since past, that I have dealt with and moved on.
No, the time when the pain is worst has nothing to do with past atrocities, or enemies seeking revenge. It is the times when I sit beneath an ancient tree that grants shade from the sun, or walk in a meadow where the wildlife remains indifferent to my passing. It is when I sing a joyful song in a local tavern, or swim in a cool, bubbling brook that runs down from the mountains so near my home. Those are the times when I am most vulnerable.
For it is then that the most painful memory emerges from it's secluded place in the deep crevices of my mind. It is those times when the vision of Ameisantha, my love, dances in front of my eyes.
And I cry...
Jhantyrr
A.K.A. the Bitter Elf
798 A.S. Year of Long Caskets
I was put a shore many miles from the cities of man. For that I was thankful. Many elves might have called it a blessing from Corellian. I knew better. No god had a hand in it, for no elven god would aid an outcast such as myself. More than likely it was the working of a friend, saying goodbye in their own special way. And since I had so few friends at the time, I knew who I would have to thank, should I ever meet them again.
Some of the elves back in the Silvan Isles would be enraged to learn that I did not start my exile with the humiliation of walking through a human city, wearing nothing but the skin I was born in. I had yet to actually meet a human, but from what I had read in the immense libraries at the Isles, I knew them to be barbaric creatures with few morals. To be in their city vulnerable and needy would have been an assault on everything I stood for. Something my enemies wanted. Something my friend didn't let happen.
So I was dropped off on a nameless beach on a continent that some say never ends, to remain for twenty years. I was allowed to bring one personal item with me. I chose nothing.
"Not even a weapon?" Anulfin, my lifelong friend, asked moments before I left the Isles. "If you don't take a weapon to hunt with, at least bring something you can sell for something to buy what you need."
"There are many ways to hunt without using a weapon. And I do not care to sell any of my possessions to humans," I practically spit the last word.
"You don't even take a memento of the Isles. Why not something along those lines?" He asked persistently.
"I don't need a memento. I can close my eyes and see the wonder that is our isles. The same goes for the beauty that is Ameisantha." I found myself looking to the city, where she was currently wrapped up in her duties as nobility. "No, I will go, taking nothing with me. That way, when I return, I will have made it on my own. And that's something that not even all the aristocrats, or even the Queen for that matter, can deny."
I watched as the ship, a work of both the finest craftsman and wizards, sailed out of sight, back to the homeland that I had lost.
For a short time, I reminded myself. Only for a short time.
I should have been prepared for my journey, should have had a plan of action. I had known it would happen for months, yet I didn't even waste time thinking over it, spending as much time as I could with my love.
I was advised by my closest friends to find myself a place where I could remain secluded and remain untainted by the ways of the lesser races. There, they said, I could sit for twenty years and contemplate my mistakes. That way I would be ready when I was given a second trial, to see if my exile would be lifted.
However, as wise as their plan sounded, I knew it wasn't for me. They did too, but they felt that they had to try. It had been said that I was never able to sit still. I must also add that contemplating is not my specialty.
So, with no clothes on my back, not a copper to my name, or even a weapon with which to defend myself, I left the beach with the idea of doing anything but sitting still in my mind.
There were many times during that first year that I longed to be home. Indeed, I don't believe an hour passed that I didn't think about the Isles or my love, who was so very far away. Many times, much to my dismay, I found myself actually contemplating what I had done wrong. The irony of those times never hid itself from me.
For that first year I stayed in one place, in an abandoned city I found. It was not far from the ocean, and I had no desire to venture into human lands.
I was cautious at first, making sure that there weren't any creatures actually living in the ruins. I scouted and explored the place for weeks, before finally convincing myself that it was safe. Even then, I patrolled the city relentlessly, determined to find a reason for its' abandonment. They turned out to be fruitless.
Some of my searches did bring about small successes, each in it's own time. The first was when I was looking through the largest building in town, undoubtedly the manor of some wealthy citizen, and stumbled upon a secret staircase leading into the depths below. Using some rotting cloth and a stick, I made myself a torch, and descended. What I found amazed me.
At the bottom of the stairwell, a door awaited me. I turned the knob, surprised it wasn't locked, and entered the chamber. Light from torches, which were magically enchanted shine light without actually burning, hit my eyes. An enormous library stretched before me, with wraith-like beings floating among the stacks of books.
My first thought was to run, surely this place was cursed, and my only salvation would be to flee. It was then that I realized that none of the ghosts even acknowledged my presence. Timidly, I took a step forward.
Nothing.
The beings, some which looked like humans, some like orcs, never even looked at me. I believe that I even saw a figure that looked like an elf. Still, I didn't wish to risk my life, so I left, my feet moving as fast as they could.
My second discovery was another stroke of luck. In one of the armor shops, I found a steel sword, buried in ash in a weathered forge. Pulling it out, I found that the blade had yet rust. I immediately began exercising with it, as I was a bit rusty from my time spent away from using a blade.
The skill came back quickly.
I knew that my luck was increasing daily when I stumbled upon an outfit of clothing in a chest that was only half rotted. I patched them up as best I could, thankful that I had something other than leaves to protect me from the fierce wind that sometimes blew in off the bay.
With regained courage, mostly due to the fact that I felt invulnerable with a sword in my hand, I ventured back to the hidden library. Once more I entered, and once more I was ignored. This time, though, I vowed I wouldn't run.
I slowly made my way through the library, surprised at how big it really was. I must have spent almost fifteen minutes walking before I came to the end. In all that time, none of the beings noticed me.
I felt at ease inside the room, confident that I was in no danger. I picked up a book, free of dust to my surprise, and went over to a comfortable looking chair. Sitting down, I began to read. I grew so caught up in the book that I lost all track of time, and eventually fell asleep.
I was angry at myself when I woke up. Angry that I had let myself fall asleep so easily, in a place where danger could creep up on me. My mind thought back, and I realized that this was probably the safest place in the city. The beings would have done something to me by then if they had wished too. It wasn't long before I moved in for the duration of my stay.
I spent the next year and three months in the library. I would venture out to check my snares and gather what fruits and water I needed, then go back into the dark recesses of my sheltered palace. I spent my days reading, practicing my with my sword, not to mention exploring the gigantic room. I tried different ways to communicate with the wraith like beings, but never to any avail.
Something else that was happening in that library. Something that was happening within me. I had a feeling, of what I wasn't sure, but it kept building inside of me. Some days I thought I would burst, although I never knew why. On those days I stayed outdoors, where I would just run far and fast, until the feeling left me.
I came to enjoy my solitude, became comfortable in my ways, not counting those days where my nerves became frayed. I figured that I could spend my next nineteen years there, reading and relaxing. It was something that I came to accept. It had been almost a year and a half since I had even spoken with an intelligent being.
Needless to say, I was very surprised when I received a visitor.
It started out as a normal day. I awoke at the usual time, leaving the library to check my snares for food. At the same time I practiced with my sword, honing my skills although I was coming to learn that fighting with the air was doing nothing for my fighting prowess.
I returned to the library and ate my morning meal, a small rabbit from the night before. There were a few apples left, so I finished them off. My hunger sated, I returned to the book I had been reading, a detailed story of the life of Zeno, one of the most demonic human priests to ever breathe. When I finished reading about the vile life he lived and the atrocities he committed, I found myself thankful that he had been murdered a few centuries past.
I placed the book in the growing pile of books I had read during my stay. Even if I lived to be a thousand, I knew that I would never even come close to reading all the books contained in the library. I had given up searching for an explanation for the library and it's denizens. I was happy just to let the subject rest.
I had no desire to read another book at the moment, for most were filled with violent stories, of the most brutal nature. I hadn't even realized it until I finished reading about Zeno. At that moment a chill ran up my spine, and I decided to take a walk out outside.
The cloud's were doing a good job of hiding the sun, while the icy breeze stung my cheek. Still, it seemed to be a blazing fire compared to the chill that fell upon me in the library.
I decided to run, that way the chill would have to keep up with me. I followed my usual trail, starting from the side nearest the ocean then running west, until I circled around to the starting point. The town was a perfect sight for running, the buildings that were overgrown with plants was a sight that I came to enjoy. It set me at ease. Before I knew it, I had left the chill far behind.
I was almost three quarters of the way around the city when I saw what looked to be a log laying in the trail up ahead. I knew it hadn't been there earlier in the day, so I quickly slowed down to look. The ground around it was wet with a liquid spreading around it.
I quickly realized the figure for what it was. Kicking it with my foot the log rolled over revealing a dead orc, it's brown cape covering most of it's body. It's throat looked like it had been torn apart, but I couldn't fathom what type of creature could rip the whole throat off and not leave any other marks. Quickly scanning the ground, I found it bare.
With an unknown creature lurking I reached for my sword, only to find that it wasn't there. In my haste to leave the chill, I had forgotten to grab it. Cursing my luck, I searched the corpse only to find a broken spear. Cursing the gods, a foolish thing by all accounts, I began studying my surroundings.
Whatever had killed the orc could be hiding, watching me from it's place. Any sudden moves would bring it charging down upon me, while trying to be sneaky would be useless since it's already watching me. Throwing caution to the wind, I broke into a run, back to the library, to get my sword.
I ran as fast as my feet would move, through the ruined city. A burst through old intersections, knowing that even as I did the creature could leap out from one of them and send me to the afterlife. That thought, coupled with the fact that I wished to see my love once more before I died, spurned me onward to greater speeds.
By the time I reached the building that sat atop the library, I was out of breath. My lungs screamed for air, yet they would have to wait. My muscles filled with weariness, the long run at full speed was draining almost all of my strength. Still I ran.
Up the front steps, through the rooms of the building, and down the flight of stairs into the darkness that had become my home. I lunged through the door into the library, kicking it shut behind me. The loud noise echoed throughout the room, yet none of the specters looked up. For some reason, I felt comforted in that moment, put at ease by my companions that never acknowledged me.
Picking myself off the floor, I leaned against a wall of books, slowly letting my breathing come back. My muscles still throbbed, but there was work to be done. Something deadly was lurking outside, and it would have to be dealt with.
I walked over to my corner, looked at my makeshift room and found the object I was looking for. My sword was leaning up against a stack of books, as if standing at the ready for a fight.
At the thought of a real fight, my spirit surged. Finally I would be able to fight a flesh and blood creature. A chance to hone my skill had shown up, and I wouldn't let it go to waste. Grabbing my sword, I turned and headed for the staircase.
I flung the door open with an adrenaline pumping through my body, ready to charge up those stairs and hunt down whatever was out there. Instead of charging up, I found myself staring as a small cloaked figure who was standing on the lower stairs.
Immediately I started to raise my sword to attack, when his hand flew up, in a pattern of movements I couldn't follow, and I heard words of magic steam from beneath the cowl. My sword began descending on the figure, which was a little more than half my height, when I felt my muscles freeze up. My arms stopped moving, held in place, the sword inches from the figure's head. I found I couldn't even blink, as I struggled against the magic that held my body in one place.
I watched as the figure drew forth a club, which it raised above it's head. The little creature leaped off the steps, bringing the club crashing down on my head. As the creature fell past me, I caught a glimpse of it's face. Gnome, I thought, as pain exploded throughout my head.
There are few memories that I can call upon at a moments notice and view with extreme clarity. Many times, I find that vision is blurry, to the point where it forms a rainbow that continually swirls like a kaleidoscope that never stops. Other times I find pieces of the vision missing, the center of the puzzle that has disappeared and is needed to complete the whole. Those times frustrate me to end, as I search for the pieces or try to adjust my focus.
The attack by the gnome and what ensued afterwards, are one of the times where my memory is as sharp as it could possibly be. Although that shouldn't come as a surprise to me, as it would set my path for the rest of my life.
I awoke to find my head throbbing in pain, as if I had spent the night drinking some potent beverage from the realm of the fairies. I slowly let my eyes open only to quickly shut them as bright light shot into the back of my skull. Groaning, I tried to move, but found my movement impeded.
Once again I opened my eyes, this time to see shining chains binding me to the floor. I knew from the color, and feel, of the chains that they were made of mithril, a rare and valuable metal. They held my arms and legs spread apart, as if I was a bulls-eye on the polished floor on which I lay. Quickly scanning the rest of the circular room I noticed that the room held only one door, to my left.
I glanced up then quickly averted my gaze. Whatever was creating the bright light was suspended high above me, illuminated the entire room. As weak as I was, I began struggling against the chains, but quickly tired.
"It is no use elf," said a deep, obviously male, voice that seemed to be all around me. "You can't escape those chains."
"Release me, gnome!" I yelled, veins popping out in my forehead while I looked around for the creature that had captured me.
"That is something I cannot do," the voice said once again. "You see, those chains are the Chains of Veldestar, and they only hold the guilty. Their magic won't function on the innocent. As such-"
"Guilty of what?!" I roared, infuriated by the senseless ranting. "You attacked me!"
"There was choice, for you were violating the law," the voice became a whisper. "What I did, I had to do."
I began to protest, but was cut off. "Your questions will have an answer at the trial, although we already know the verdict. Until then, you must wait."
"Wait! You haven't told me a damn thing! Show yourself, you little bastard!" My muscles strained against the mithril chains. "Get back here!"
The light above me dimmed, and I found the last of my energy spent. Slowly I found myself falling into reverie on the stone floor.
"I hate gnomes," I whispered, then let the reverie overtake me.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
There are few things I hate more than being helpless. Being vulnerable, unable to protect myself, at the mercy of someone, all those things just bring my blood to the boiling point. So it was now wonder I when I awoke, more pissed off than before.
I came out of my reverie in an instant, my eyes quickly taking in my surroundings. I was in a different room, this time chained to a wall, where I hung like a limp doll. The room, a gigantic auditorium, was filled with gnomes, all of them looking at me. Rows upon rows, watched and whispered as I stared back, noticing the white robes they all wore. High above I noticed the night sky, and realized that there was no roof on the room.
"Silence!" A voice, using the gnomish language, boomed throughout the room, echoing all around.
I looked straight ahead to see a single gnome standing on the auditorium floor. His small figure was bathed in the light of the moon, which was further illuminated by the white robe he wore. To my eyes, it seemed as if he was glowing. The sight made me worry of my own appearance.
How must I have looked? I wore animal hides that I had skinned, and those were falling apart. My golden hair was now the color of dirt, and hadn't been cut in over a year. My body had become muscular and I was no longer thin, two things that were common to elves. The moon cast no light upon me, only shadows darkened my body. The result must have been quite a sinister appearance. Not that I cared. I had left my vanity back on the isles, and didn't intend to claim it when I returned.
A savage, I thought to myself. That is what I must look like to them. A savage.
"Elf," the gnome said in elvish, taking a step towards me. "We wish to know the name of the one we put on trial."
"I was told my guilt was already determined, so why a trial?" I said the words slowly, letting venom fill each word.
"A trial is necessary as tradition calls for it," he answered, not affected by the anger that I showed towards him. "Again, I ask your name."
"My name?" I smiled at that. "I cannot give you my name."
"And why is that?" The gnome addressed the entire crowd. Their heads turned in unison as the conversation shifted between us. "Do you wish to play games? If you will not give your name we will not waste time on the subject."
"I didn't say I wouldn't, I said I can't," I spoke my reply softly, just loud enough for it to be heard throughout the chamber. "There is a difference."
"Very well. Then w-"
"I wasn't finished!" I yelled. "I cannot give my name because it was stripped from me. Stripped from me by my own kind, by my loved ones!" I heard a murmur run through the crowd.
"That's right. I am in exile! I have been banned from my homeland, put ashore on this continent." My blood was beyond the boiling point, as I struggled against my chains, to no avail. "I found a place to stay, and I stayed there for over a year, abiding the time when I could return home. The one of you miserable little wretches came along and knocked me out. And here I am. Being tried for the second time in my life." At that I spat on the floor.
"Well then, let's get this underway." The gnome paced back and forth, as he began his presentation to his audience. "The charges against you, unnamed one, are grave. You broke the ancient law and entered the Hallowed City. While there you found, and entered, the Library of Sorrow. You also read many books during your time there. These three acts alone are three of the worst crimes ever committed in recent history. How do you plead?"
I wanted to thank him for keeping it short and to the point, where my last trial dragged on for months. I was still in a bad mood though. "I entered a city seeking refuge from the weather. I found a library where I was safe from both the weather and hostile creatures. I read books to pass the time. I never knew of any laws, never even had contact with an intelligent creature up until a few days ago. I knew of no laws, therefore, in my mind, I never broke a law."
"I take that as an innocent plea?"
"Maybe I should retract my intelligent comment," I was trying to get a reaction out of him. I wasn't successful. "Yes, I plead not guilty."
"Then we will decide," the gnome said gravely. "You heard his argument of why he thinks he is not guilty. You also know that he was held by the Chains, not to mention that he even admitted to his stay and subsequent acts in the City. How does the jury find the elf?"
It was with no surprise to me when I heard, in unison, every gnome in the building say guilty. I cast my down, seething with rage.
"You have been found guilty, as you heard," the gnome said placing a hand on my shoulder. "Sentencing is tomorrow."
"And yours is now!" I growled.
I hoped I was right about the length of the chain. My knee flew up, and connected underneath his chin. The gnome fell backwards, blood spewing from his mouth. The roar of the gnomes sounded like music to my ears, as one of their own lay in a pool of his blood.
Out of the corner of my eyes I saw the guards raising their clubs, but I disregarded them. I focused on the gnome in front of me, watching as his white robe turned to the color of crimson. At that moment, I smiled. Even helpless, I could be dangerous.
For every action we take in our lives, there is a consequence, no matter how small. A reaction takes place that alters the course of our life over something as small as choosing what you want for breakfast. Take for example the young elf maid who finds that she needs water for her meal. So she hurries to the well, but on the way falls down and breaks her ankle. For the rest of her life she will walk with a limp all because she went to get some water.
I knew the actions I took on the Silvan Isles would have consequences. And I knew that they would most likely result in a hideous fate, should they ever be brought to life. Of course, as fate would have it, they were revealed and I was cast out, thus coming face to face with the consequences of my actions.
I often wonder if the gnomes of Shilock Woods, as I would come to know it, ever thought about consequences. Did they have such a narrow view of life that prevented them from seeing a multitude of outcomes, ones that would eventually come back to haunt them? Or was it something else? Were elves so much different than these other races, that we viewed life more as a puzzle, always trying to discern the ‘right’ path? So many questions, and as the saying goes, so few answers.
Either way, the gnomes would come to learn of consequences, although they might not know them by that name. Of that I was certain.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I came to, to find my entire body throbbing in pain. Every part hurt, my head most of all. There was a loud drum like noise that kept pounding inside my mind. Over and over it sounded; a deep rhythm that crashed against my conscious. It took a few minutes for me to realize that the drums weren’t in my head, although there was still a splitting pain there, but all around me.
I tried to open my eyes, to find the left one swollen shut. My right eye opened just a crack, and then winced shut as a bright light exploded through the small slit. It took me almost an entire minute for my eye to adjust to the light. As I could finally open it, I found myself in a clearing in the forest. Ahead of me stood a group of massive oak trees, the ground at my feet covered in green ferns.
Struggling to raise my arm, I found myself to be tied to tree. Both my legs and hands were restrained by what felt to be a durable rope. Glancing around, I saw no signs of the gnomes or the drums. They were out there, I knew. I could feel their eyes upon me, waiting for something.
I would have screamed an obscenity, a challenge to the cowards, but I realized that I had been gagged. Fury built within me as I struggled against my bonds. Though I knew there was no use, I struggled anyway.
It was then that I started to wonder what exactly was going on. For what reason had they tied me to a tree and stand in the woods beating on drums? What type of punishment was this? The whole situation made no sense.
It was then that I heard something moving in the brush directly in front of me. I knew it to be no gnome, as whatever was moving was much larger than any gnome I had heard of. No, it must be some type of animal, I thought, for I swore I heard something snort in the direction. With that snort, I realized what was going on.
Looking at my feet, I noticed a pile of rotting meat, some of which had been rubbed on my legs. The little bastards were using me to feed some creature of the forest. It was such a poor way for such a noble one such as myself to die. In my mind I swore oath upon oath, to slaughter every single gnome, right down to the last woman and child. If only there was a way to take even one of the gnomes with me into the afterlife, I would be more than pleased. None, however, presented themselves at the moment.
It was at that moment that the beast came into view. It had the head of an enormous boar, with two giant tusks rising into the air. The body was more like an ape, with two arms that ended in twisted claws. Black and brown fur covered the creature, although I knew that powerful muscles that would rip me apart lay underneath that matting. Its head was level with my chest, and I realized whatever it was called, the creature was my doom.
I locked eyes with the ape-boar immediately. Its red eyes flashed in defiance as it let out an enormous roar, revealing two rows of long, curved teeth. The drums stopped. Birds in the surrounding trees took to the sky. I was at a loss. With nothing else to do but wait, I kept staring the beast straight in the eyes.
How much the gnomes must have been enjoying that moment. They must have been out there watching, dancing, making jokes about the helpless elf. Even in the face of death, I felt my blood boiling. I wanted to kill, to take my revenge. Hatred for the little creatures consumed me.
The beast roared one more time and charged, its claws tensed for a killing blow. The three seconds that it took the ape-boar to cross the clearing seemed like an eternity for me, as I thought back to everything I had ever done that I wish I hadn’t. Surprisingly, cheating at the tournament that got me exiled from the Silvan Isles never crossed my mind. The whole vision of my life seemed to revolve around Ameisantha. For that single moment, as I prepared to die, I could almost touch her in my mind. Her beauty calmed me, as her eyes locked upon mine. Slowly she reached her delicate hand towards with a sorrowful smile. I would die happy, if my last vision was of her. Of that I was certain.
As the creature came upon me, three arrows flew from the nearby woods, imbedding themselves in the ape-beasts chest. It staggered back, confused. The vision of Ameisantha shattered and I wondered what was going on, when not a second after the first volley of arrows hit came another. This one was larger than the first, with five more arrows coming from new directions. The creature turned to flee, and nearly made it out of the clearing when another volley hit. One of the arrows pierced the creature’s skull, sending it tumbling over mid-stride, and then into the dirt where it lay still.
Around me the woods exploded into action, and I found myself falling to the ground. It was so fast that I didn’t realize someone had cut my bonds, until the ground was inches from my face. Someone grabbed my back, and pulled me up. I found the clearing filled with eight cloaked figures, all carrying longs swords, all with long bows slung across their back.
They were all tall, most of them around a foot taller than me. Their baggy cloths gave no indication of their build, but I could tell from the way they held their swords that they must have been in decent shape. Looking up at the figure that pulled me up, a face came into view under the hoods cowl.
There, holding me up by my shoulder was a man. His short black beard, gave way to a face that seemed almost child-like. Blue eyes stared at me, inquisitively, and I knew that it was a first for both of us. Dark hair hung out of the bottom of the cowl, and for a second I thought I glimpsed a medallion upon the man’s neck.
“Can you run?” the man asked in a crude form of common.
“Yes,” I replied as I removed my gag, almost in awe of what was going on.
“Good,” he said with a smile. “Then we run.”
He motioned to his companions, and they disappeared into the woods, in the same direction the beasts had come from. He motioned to follow, then ran after his companions.
What had just happened? In a few short moments, my life had gone from being a meal for an animal, to being saved by lowly humans. My mind shuttered at the thought of having to be saved by such wretched creatures. In fact, why had they saved me? A thousand questions started to run through my head, all of them harboring suspicious thoughts.
Glancing to my right, I caught a glimpse of two gnomes leaping down from trees in the distance. Immediately they started to run towards me. I was sure that there were many others doing the same thing, even if I couldn’t see them. Better, I thought, to survive and return for revenge, than to throw my life away battling against the odds.
With a sick feeling in my stomach, I ran after the humans.
We ran for what seemed like hours, my body bursting with pain the entire way. A few times I found myself stumbling, on the verge of collapse due to exhaustion. It was at these times that I pushed on, determined not to let the humans outdo me.
I caught glimpses of them through the forest. Looks of what I believed to be fake concern were etched on their faces. They were trying to trick me into believing them to be trustworthy; thankfully I knew better. I had studied the histories and ways of their kind. At best, they were treacherous. I wouldn’t fall for such a petty ruse as a look of worry.
Yet I also could not deny that they had saved my life, as revolting of a thought that was. Did they have something even more sinister in store for me? Is that why they had rescued me? Only to throw me into an even crueler fate?
I followed them, even in spite of my suspicions. The gnomes gave chase, spurring me onward. It wasn’t long before I knew that they had fallen far behind, but still I was driven. I figured the gnomes had allies throughout the forest, and probably had magical means of communicating with them. Thus, I had no choice but to follow my rescuers.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I knew that I was running out of energy, for most of the men had disappeared into the forest ahead as I lagged behind. For a moment, I thought they had deserted me, and I wondered what type of trap they had led me into. Those thoughts disappeared instantly, as one of the men seemed to appear at my side, seemingly out of the thin air.
“It is not much farther and then we can take a quick rest,” he said breathing normally. Surely he was in peak physical condition. “Can you make it?”
I nodded and focused ahead, determined not to let the human help me again. Once was a strike against me as it was. He merely kept pace with me for a few minutes. Then he burst into a run and disappeared into a large wall of brush ahead of me. Covering my face with my left arm I plunged through the trees, and found myself falling.
I reached to grab a branch as I fell, but it was too late. In a second I was engulfed in cool water, with the feeling of being swept away. I opened my good eye, to see the sun reflecting on the water that was pulling me downstream. A wavy figure blocked out the sun, and then I felt two massive hands on my shoulders, pulling me.
I realized someone was pulling me out of the water. Air hit my face and I took a long, deep breath before coughing until my throat hurt. Whoever had lifted me out of the water set me on a sandy shore as I continued to cough. I heard their waterlogged boots slosh as they stepped onto the shore, although I couldn’t see the figure as my good eye was closed due to the coughing.
Eventually my breathing returned to normally, and I opened my watery eye to find a group of men staring at me. None of them looked like they had just run for what seemed like hours. One man, the one with the child-like face that had first spoken to me, stepped forward, to kneel in front of me.
He pulled a pouch off his belt, and spilled the contents into his hand. A few dark red berries seemingly called out to me. Delicious as they looked, suspicion flooded my mind.
“You are safe now, friend elf,” he stated, rubbing his black beard with his free hand, “At least from the gnomes. You must eat these, though, for our journey is not yet over, and you will need your strength.”
At that moment, I tried to protest but found I couldn’t. I had no strength left at all, my entire body exploded in pain. I went to lift myself up, but realized that there was no way I could even move, every breath hurt. Somehow I found the energy to extend my hand. There was no way I could defend myself in this position, and I no longer cared what happened so long as I stayed alive.
The man placed the berries in my hand, and stood up replacing the sack onto his belt. He watched as I struggled to place the berries in my mouth, then as I slowly chewed them. Even before I swallowed the last one, a warm feeling began spreading over my body. As the last one went down my ragged throat, I felt like I was burning up. Slowly the feeling left.
Looking up I saw the man smile, and I feared I had been tricked into eating some poisonous berries. Yet, I felt like my strength was back, as I pushed myself off the ground. I stood up for a second and looked at him, then at the rest of his men. They were all laughing, just as I came to the conclusion that I was swaying. Instantly I felt tired, and my good eye began to close as the earth came rushing towards me.
The man stepped forward and caught me. Merriment flickered in his eyes, as he motioned for someone. That someone scooped me up like I was nothing more than a rag doll. My head hung awkwardly as I continued to struggle against the darkness.
“Don’t fight the berries, friend elf,” he said with a laugh. “You need your rest. By the time you wake up, you will be in a warm bed.”
I tried to say something, but the words came out gargled. His advice seemed intelligent, so I let the berries do their work, as the darkness overtook me.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Battle raged all around me. Men and dwarves threw themselves at half-formed creatures that were covered in black robes. The screams of the dying were louder than the clash of swords. Blood seemed to cover everything, even giving the sky a pale red color. Everywhere I looked my followers were falling by dozens. Fear raced through my body.
I knew the goal of the army I led, the men and dwarves that were being slaughtered like cattle. Farther down the forest trail upon which we now fought for our lives, stood an enormous temple, filled with vile atrocities that offended even some of the darkest gods. For some reason it was my job to destroy it, for some reason I had been cursed with the help of humans and dwarves.
Yet I rallied them. I went to draw my sword, only to find it already in my hand, covered in a yellowish green blood. I pointed and we charged. Thousands of men rushed forward, trampling over the robed figures. For every one we killed, we lost nearly two dozen. The creatures were of some other place, some other plane of existence.
As we charged I knew the temple was close, merely a few feet from view, when an explosion leveled the surrounding woods. Human and dwarf were thrown to the ground, myself included. Darkness fell upon me, and an inhumanly silence followed. My skin crawled as I sensed something evil advancing upon me. I was no longer sure if I was blind or if I was floating in an expanse of endless darkness.
A flash of red caught my eye, as I turned too late to find an immense figure lunging at me with a vile looking broadsword. It plunged into me, and I could feel it cut not just my body, but my soul. Tendrils of darkness spread through me, coming out of the sword. On some level, I screamed.
The figure of pure darkness made its head visible, and what was left of me, body and soul, seemingly exploded in pure terror at the sight of the demonic creature. A laugh escaped the cracked lips, and I realized that I wasn’t dying. My lower body was slowly changing, forming into the creature that stood in front of me.
I watched as the rest of me, seemingly became part of the beast, until my head was face to face with its. Even closing my eyes, I could still see it, the look of it seeped through my eyelids. As I screamed, it laughed. And the louder I screamed, the louder it laughed. Such a sound when they blended together must have been a symphony in hell.
The beast opened its enormous mouth, lined with gigantic teeth. I realized that I was shaking. A light showed up, and my entire world went white, taking with it the creature, as the shaking grew worse.
* * * * * * * * * * *
I awoke to find myself being shaken by an elderly woman. There was a look of worry in her eyes that relaxed as I came to. My body was covered in sweat, and most of my muscles were strained. Sitting up, the woman moved to a counter then brought over a glass filled with a clear liquid.
“It’s just water,” she explained, obviously noting my uneasy stare at the glass.
Grudgingly I took the glass, and sipped it. She hadn’t lied for refreshingly cool water soothed my throat. I drained the glass quickly, and she fetched another. Three glasses later, I stopped to take in my surroundings.
I was in a small cottage that contained minimal furniture, and very little in the way of decoration. The only thing that even caught my eye was a sheathed sword that lay on a small, oak table and a burning candle with a book lying next to it. Out the window I could see a pale moon on the horizon. Looking back at the woman, I found that she was staring at me intently.
“I didn’t mean to shake you, Sir Elf,” she quietly said. “But you were screaming and thrashing about with such a horrified look upon your face that I worried your heart would soon seize up and stop.”
“T-thank you,” I sincerely replied. My body still trembled from the dream, and though I could recall very little of it, the sound of my screaming and that fiendish laugh echoed in my mind. “I fear that you are right.”
“Dark are these days, Sir Elf, and darker still the nights,” her voice, though steady, held a touch of fear in it. “You are not the first to have a black dream, nor will you be the last. I must say though, that I have never heard of one affecting a person as much as I saw it affect you.”
I just shook my head. My entire world had been turned upside down once, and now it was happening again. I had no idea where I was, or to whom I was captive. In fact, I thought, I didn’t even know when it was.
“How long have I been asleep?” Something inside of me feared the answer.
“Why two weeks, Sir Elf,” she answered.
“Two weeks?” I was dumbfounded. I was worried I had lost a few days, but two weeks was truly horrible. What had happened in that time?
“Yes, you have been in my care for nearly two weeks. I’ve tended your wounds as best I could, although I must say my skills as a healer could use a bit of touching up.” She spoke politely and with sincerity. For some reason, I felt that I could trust her. “Your eye has healed nice, as well as the cut along your thigh, unfortunately that will undoubtedly leave a scar.”
I hadn’t even noticed that my eye was now open. I looked down at my leg to find a thin, red line running down my inner thigh. I hadn’t even noticed I had been cut when I was running from the gnomes.
“What of the men who saved me?”
“Most are out on patrol at the moment,” her voice was soft. “However a few are still in the village and that includes Derrin. He left a message for you. I am to tell you that once you awake and feel well enough, he would like it if you would join him at his house for dinner and a talk, Sir Elf.”
“Then I am not a prisoner?”
“Heaven’s no. Derrin left you a sword, because he said you were very suspicious,” her tone became soft, almost sorrowful. “He thought that might show you his good intentions, and pave the way for a friendship. I believe you are the first elf he has ever met.”
“He was the first human I ever came into contact with,” I replied, wondering why I felt so at ease in the old woman’s presence. “I must say though, after all I have studied, I do not think I can ever have a friendship with one of your kind.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge my race; we are not all the same. Sure we have had a brutal history, filled with many wars for many petty reasons, but have the elves not had pointless wars? Have there not been elves who are just as evil as some of my kind?” Her blue eyes seemed to hold sorrow, although why I couldn’t tell. “What, Sir Elf, makes your kind so much better than mine?”
I’m not sure if I could have answered had I wanted too. Everything she said made sense, and not only that, it made me feel ashamed inside for my thoughts. What was wrong with me? Surely either the humans had done something to me while I slept or there was some other quality in those berries that I had eaten that was still affecting my judgment.
“I would be off to meet this Derrin, before I waste more time,” I stood slowly, getting my legs underneath me. “I thank you-“
“Helan,” she finished. “Helan Galstron, last of the Galstron family although I know that means nothing to you. I would ask your name Sir Elf, but I understand you are not allowed to speak it.”
“How di-“
“A long time ago another elf came through here, with the same look in his eyes that you have,” a thin smile touched her cheeks at the memory, the quickly disappeared. “He told me of the rules of exile from the Silvan Isles, and of what one must endure in order to have the exile lifted. He stayed for a while and lived in this very village, but eventually he moved on.”
“Did he ever return to the Isles?” I was curious, for very few elves were exiled, and the chances that I knew him, or at least of him, were great.
“No,” she answered. “He passed through one time, about two years ago during autumn. He came to tell me that he was content not to return to his homeland, that he found a haven for the elves in a hidden forest upon a mountain to the west. He came back to thank me, though I never will know what for. I can’t believe that the short time we spent together ever had that profound an effect upon him, but he came to me anyway. Do you know the last thing he did before he left the last time, Sir Elf?”
I shook my head.
“He told me his name,” she whispered, a tear in her eye. Surely there was something more to their relationship that she was letting on, but I wasn’t about to press the issue. “Then he left for the Haven. Ah. Sorry.” She wiped away another tear as it streamed down her cheek. “It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about him. Anyway, you should be going. Derrin’s been waiting for two weeks, and will be thrilled to find you up and about, Sir Elf.”
“Ok,” I said moving towards the table. I picked up the sword and buckled it onto my belt, which was the same time I realized I was wearing human clothing. “Thank you for your hospitality, and for taking care of me.”
“You are more than welcome Sir Elf,” she smiled. Derrin’s house near the center of town, you can tell which one it is simply by the large oak that grows in his yard.”
I moved to the door and opened it. A cool night breeze blew in, yet it felt nothing like the ice cold terror I felt in my dream. This cold was refreshing, invigorating. “I will try to stop and say goodbye before I leave in the morning.”
“Leave?” She seemed genuinely surprised,
“I have business with a certain group of gnomes, and although you are an exceptional human, I don’t believe I will ever meet another that I will want to talk too, although I do owe this Derrin a thank you at the least.” The thought of thanking a human for saving my life wasn’t as horrible as it had been before I had met Helan, but there was still something repulsive about it. And the thought of staying with the humans was even worse.
“If this is goodbye, I wish you good luck, Sir Elf.” I could see that the sorrow had returned to her eyes. “There are many roads to travel out there, make sure you look down all of them before you pick your path.”
“I picked my path many months ago,” I answered.
With a small smile, I turned and began walking down the path, into the village. I didn’t have to turn around to know she was still in the doorway, with the same sad look upon her face. Neither could I shake the feeling that I was disappointing this old woman, and for some reason that thought terrified me. What was causing me to worry what an old woman like that was thinking about me? Why should I care? For whatever reason, my last thought brought with it a revelation. I finally knew what Helan was sorrowful for.
The walk through the village brought with it an invigorating feeling, as my cramped muscles were given a chance to move. Weak from two weeks of an induced sleep, they ached as I moved down the hillside where Helan’s hut was located, into the village proper. The dozen or so houses were arranged in no particular form, yet I was able to pick out Derrin’s house from the hillside, not by looking for the center of town, but by the massive tree that rose above the entire village. It towered over the town, like a massive sentinel watching for signs of approaching trouble. Its branches swayed in the gentle breeze, and for a moment I stopped, fixated on the entire view.
It was almost like a village on the Silvan Isles, although everything other than the tree was far cruder. Where the plain, log houses stood here, there would have been living trees that were grown in the form of a houses in the Isles. And back home, there would be an order into the way the village was grown thus enhancing the natural beauty of area. Here, they had just built without any such notion, just throwing up their houses without any planning. The tree, however, somehow tied the buildings together, and even with the chaos of such a sight, I found there to be a natural beauty that shocked me.
As the moments passed, I realized that there were very few lights on in the village. I was surprised that I didn’t even see one human on the dirt trail that passed through town. All the books I had read told that humans conducted their worst deeds during the night. Odd to find that not even one of them was out. Was there some sort of trickery at work? We’re the humans just letting me think I was free, only to descend upon me to take it away once more?
“That’s foolish,” I muttered to myself. “I’m going above worrying about these creatures. I’m becoming paranoid at my own shadow. You have to quit this.”
I started walking, trying to take my own advice. I entered the village trying to walk a fine line between my constant paranoia and regular vigilance. My hand never strayed far from the hilt of my sword.
Walking past the houses, I noticed little nick-knacks in most of the windows. Small symbols of religious faiths were the most common of these nick-knacks; most of those were the symbol of the Earth Mother, Obadi-Hai. Here and there, there were vases of wild flowers, a few curtains, and in one house I noticed a candle flickering on a small stand. No one was visible in the house. Looking over I realized that this was the last house before Derrin’s.
I pressed on and rounded the corner to find myself at the base of the enormous tree. Once again my attention became fixated upon it. Looking up, I saw massive branches, some as thick as a small tree trunk, extending outward. A few birds called out from the tree, as chipmunks scattered up the trunk, higher and higher until they disappeared into a sea of green leaves. Once again, I felt a peaceful aura fall upon me, leaving me strangely content.
“Impressive, is it not?”
The deep voice startled me, as the trance I was in broke. I looked towards Derrin’s house, something I had yet to do, to find the owner of that voice. I scanned the large, fenced porch that stretched the entire front of the house. The front door was shut, and all the windows closed. Yet I saw no one.
A movement of a shadow on the far side of the porch caught my eye, and I watched as the figure walked around the corner of the house. If he had known I couldn’t see him, he didn’t make it known. He strode over towards me, looking upwards at the tree.
“The thing about this tree is not that it’s impressive to the eyes,” he said as he stopped in front of me, turning to look me in the eyes. “It’s impressive in here.” His lightly touched his chest, his gaze once again returning to the massive tree.
The human that stood before me was the same one that had first cut me loose from the gnomes’ ropes. His blue eyes were gazing on the tree, and I realized that he had shaved the black beard off, giving his face an even more childish look. He stood about a half foot taller than me, and underneath his green shirt, I could see that he was much more muscular than myself.
“I am sorry,” he said after a few long moments of staring at the tree. “I have forgotten myself, as I usually do when I spend time gazing up into those branches. I am Derrin, son of Bron, and elected official of this village.”
He extended a hand, and I realized that he was offering it to me as a greeting. I had once read about this human custom, but had completely forgotten about it until now. Making a note in my head to try and remember such things, I reached out mine and shook his.
“I am an exile of the Silvan Isles, therefore I can not give you a name in return,” I responded. “I do, however, give you my thanks for saving my life.”
I was shocked that the words came out so easily. Had someone told me a month before that I would be thanking a human, I would have laughed in their face then thought about cutting their head from their shoulders. Now, though, something was different.
“Well we shall have to find you a name,” he laughed and pointed toward the door. “Maybe we can find one over a mug of ale. We have much to discuss Friend Elf. Will you join me for a meal, and we shall discuss what’s next on your path? I’m sure that there are many questions you want answered.”
His blue eyes stared at me, questioningly. “Food does sound good, and there are a few questions I have.”
I had many questions as a matter of fact. Thousands seemed to flood my mind, although most of them I blocked out because of their paranoid nature. This whole situation was strange, and I needed to know exactly what was going on. There were too many little things that were putting me on edge.
I followed him up the stairs onto the porch. He opened the door, and I saw a table filled with a small feast of all types of food. A few lamps burned in the room, illuminating the entire place. Here and there were furs of animals, a rug made from the skin of a bear, a small bookcase was double stacked with books, and there was even some artwork on the walls. In all the room seemed humble for the leader of the village.
Derrin turned to me as we were in the doorway. “Before I forget about you thanking me for saving your life: don’t mention it. I’m sure you would have done the same for me or my other men.” Turning he moved into the house.
I stood there, as a chill went up my spine. Not because of the weather, but the way he had said that, because of the implied trust. Would I have saved any one of his men or him?
Derrin would have been shaken by the answer.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The meal was delicious, the best I had eaten in a long time. What few seasonings Derrin had, he made the most of them. The wild turkey that he cooked had a mouth watering smell that lingered on after the meal. There were wild berries and fruits aplenty, with vegetables from the fields south of the village that were filling. The apple pie was tart yet sweet at the same time, with a crunchy flaky crust.
“That was a fine meal,” I said taking a sip of the ale, which I had been told was brew by a clan of dwarves that had migrated from the nearby mountains to try their luck mining in the hilly region to the east. The strong, dark ale was thick as it went down, leaving a nectar like aftertaste. “My compliments to the cook.”
“I’ll tell Mary you liked it,” he smiled, noting my confused look. “Oh I cannot cook that well. She makes sure I eat well. She’s always after me, as if I was still a little kid.”
“I take it she’s not your mate.”
“No, she’s a family friend,” he answered clearing off the table. “She took care of me after my parents were killed. You could say she’s become a second mother to me.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how were your parents killed?”
“Many years ago, when I was around five, our village was about ten leagues to the south,” his voice started to lose its smooth tone, and I could tell it was a story that he found hard to tell. “One night it was surrounded by a tribe of goblins. We had no idea where they had come from, not that it mattered at the moment. They butchered many, until we killed enough of them so that they fled.
“Half of our village was killed, my mother included. I don’t think I’ve ever saw such a look of hate in anyone’s eyes, as the moment I saw my father take the surviving men and chase after the goblins. They killed all of the fleeing goblins, but not without a heavy price” he sat down, his eyes fixed on that long ago event. “Very few of the men came back, though those that did brought back the bodies of the slain. My father’s was the last body brought back to the village.”
“I am sorry,” I wasn’t really sure if that was what I should have said, but I gave my condolences none the less.
“That is the way of life in these parts,” Derrin stated. “We moved our village after the attack, finding that we could no longer stay in a place with such horrific memories. An older man remembered once seeing an enormous tree in his youth that fascinated him. We followed him to this very spot, where we built this village.”
“A fitting spot,” I could think of nothing else to say.
“Yes,” Derrin seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Well, anyway, I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and are at least a little suspicious due to the fact that I drugged you.”
“You could say that.”
“The only reason I drugged you was because we could travel faster carrying you,” Derrin was trying to choose his words carefully. I could tell that just by the way he slowed down his pattern of speech. “I mean no disrespect, however we were being pursued by a vast number of gnomes and you were slowing us down.”
The look in his eyes told me he was unsure of the words he had spoken. “I don’t appreciate being poisoned, much less being unconscious for two weeks.”
“That was a side effect of the berries, they are quite potent. I truly apologize for that. I had no idea that they affected elves to such a degree,” his words sounded genuine, yet I found myself on edge. Something still didn’t seem right. “Humans are generally asleep for a few hours, nothing more.”
“Why did you save me from the gnomes?” I asked, satisfied for the moment with his answer about the berries. “It seems you put yourself at great risk for someone you know very little about?”
“The gnomes of Shilock Wood are no friends of ours, least of all the Gaulguch clan, who were the ones that imprisoned you,” his response brought with it a voice full of anger. “Once they were friendly neighbors, but in the last five years some evil has fallen upon them, and corrupted them. Where they once traded furs with us, now we only trade fired arrows and sword blows.”
“What is this evil?”
“I don’t know. It was almost overnight that they changed. One day they were talking to us, the next we were told we were no longer allowed in their area of the forest. Three days later, we were fighting small patrols of them,” Derrin said grimly. “What little I have learned is that they now worship a new deity, instead of the Earth Mother. I don’t know the name of the new deity though.”
“Strange.”
“Very strange,” he agreed. “The Gaulguch clan was the first to change, with the other four clans soon to follow.”
“How close are we to their lands?”
“Too close for comfort,” Derrin stood and walked to a window. “Twice they have sent two war parties towards our village, but both times our rangers in the woods caught wind of their coming, and we were able to successfully turn them back. However, if we are ever caught off guard or if they were to attack en masse, I doubt we would survive.”
“What are they after?” I was curious at this. I couldn’t think of any type of riches or plunder that they would win from sacking such a small village.
“They seek to kill the Great Tree,” the sadness in his voice showed, and I was sure that there was a tear in his eye, though I couldn’t be sure as his back was to me.
For some reason I had forgotten about the tree. How was that possible? It had held such sway over me not mere hours before. “Why would they kill it? As a matter of fact, what is it?”
“I am not completely sure. Some say it is just an old tree, others claim it is a manifestation of the Earth Mother herself,” he answered turning around to face me.
“And what do you think?” I a little annoyed at his answer, as the question was starting to burn in my mind.
“I would have say that it’s a little of both,” Derrin swiftly sat back down at the table. The lamps were now burning low. “There is definitely something out of the ordinary about this tree. It brings peace to most people that see it, something that they rarely find elsewhere. Everything around it is vibrant and healthy.” He paused, pondering the question for a second. “Yes, there is definitely something mystical about the Great Tree. I’m not even sure what type of tree it is. No one has ever been able to identify it.”
“Why do you think that the gnomes are trying to kill it, and not just destroy your village?” I asked the question, knowing full well that the gnomes were after the tree, yet I couldn’t figure out why.
“Again, I don’t know. When we existed peacefully with them, they would send five priests every full moon to bless the tree, but they never said why.” Derrin got a strange half-smile on his face. “Odd. I never thought to even ask them why they came. I just accepted it, never questioned what they were doing.”
I noted he was growing tired, and although I had a desire to leave the town as fast as possible, I felt like I wouldn’t be able to leave until at least the morning. Plus I wanted some time to mull over everything that had been said, as I was sure I was missing something obvious.
“Would it be okay if we called it a night?” I asked, knowing my host was too gracious to ask me the same question.
“If you wish. I thought you wanted to ask a lot of questions though,” he pointed that out. It was a true statement. There were still a lot of things I had to ask, but I knew I needed some time to think.
“I do have a lot, which is why I would ask them to you tomorrow, or later as the case will be,” I said, realizing that the sun would be rising in a few hours. “Even though I slept for two weeks, I find myself tired.”
Derrin laughed. “I must apologize again. Knowing what I know now, there is no way I would give you so many of those berries. I have an extra room if you wish to stay here, or I am sure you are still welcome at Helan’s house.”
“I believe I will stay with Helan one more night, though I thank you for your offer,” I wasn’t at ease staying in the center of this village, surrounded by humans.
“You are more than welcome if you change your mind,” he said standing up, and then walking to the door. “I trust I will see you later today then?”
“You can count on it. Hopefully, by then, I’ll have an idea of what to do with the gnomes,” I answered as I walked past him onto the porch.
A puzzled look crossed his face for a second, as my last remark sank in. It was purely small talk, because I already knew what to do with the gnomes. I knew before I heard of their attacks upon the village, and their appetite to destroy the Great Tree. I knew before I thought they had been converted to worshipping what seemed to be an evil deity. I knew what to do with the gnomes once they had tied me up and made me a prisoner.
I was going to have to slaughter each and every one of them.
__________________ Can fifteen years of imaginary training be put to use? It can't.
-Oldboy
The air had grown quite chill while I had spoke with Derrin, and the grass was now moist. Surely it wasn’t that close to dawn was it? Had I somehow lost track of so much time? Oh well, I thought, standing in the darkness. There was nothing I could do about it.
I began walking up the hill towards Helan’s cottage, my mind racing on ahead of me. Thousands of plans formulated at once, with each one growing more and more complex. At the same time, they grew bloodier, as I tried to think of new ways to kill each of the little, vile gnomes. A wicked grin crossed my face as I envisioned each plan with growing clarity and sense of purpose.
Everything seemed to be falling into place, as far as my revenge was concerned. I would have the little gnomes strung up from each tree in mere days. Yet for some reason I had suddenly become uneasy. A shiver ran down my back, causing the hair there to stand up on end. Quickly I drew my sword.
I put my back against the nearest tree and started scanning the area. Nothing seemed amiss, and I spotted nothing. I knew something was wrong about the scene, even though it appeared fine. Cautiously I stepped off the tree and began moving towards the cottage, which still wasn’t in view.
I didn’t hear the sword coming at me, but I saw a glint in the moonlight, which gave me enough time to bring my longsword to parry. Twisting into a defensive stance, I blocked two more lightning fast blows before getting a glimpse of my silent attacker. Standing at nearly half my height, the small creature was cloaked completely in black. Its gloved hands clenched onto a shortsword, which it wielded with remarkably well.
Again the attacker came at me, and again my sword parried. The creature launched into a frenzy of blows, switching between high and low thrusts in a rapid pattern. Realizing that I needed some room, I made a powerful feint at its legs, causing the creature to leap back. Before I had even completed the swing I did a tuck and roll to the right and into an open clearing.
I leapt to my feet, as the attacker charged. Its hood flapped back as the creature ran and instantly my blood boiled. The gnomes face was illuminated by the moonlight, as it came at me. Immediately the rage burst forth from me and I found myself charging him.
Mere yards from each other our eyes locked as I snarled. I let out an unearthly sound as we came upon one another. I made a high feint towards his head, which he moved to block. His speed however caused him to lose balance as I turned my naked sword into a downward roll.
Our bodies collided at that moment, the momentum driving my sword deep into his body as he spun to catch his balance. The force of the crash caused me to knock the gnome over as I tumbled onto the ground. Growling I stood, to find my sword lodged in the gnomes body. The creature was moaning, as I made my way to stand over it. I spit on its twisted form, as blood pooled around it. I had almost cleaved the creature in half, yet it still lived. Enraged even further, I put my hand on the hilt of my sword and yanked it out of the gnome’s body.
Its weak moan did nothing more than add more rage as I started mercilessly slashing at the creatures body. Over and over I slashed until the body was nothing more than hacked up pieces. Still, I continued my assault on the pieces of the corpse.
How long my attack upon the corpse lasted, I do not know. Once my rage subsided, I found myself trembling, as I kneeled in what remained of the body. Pieces of flesh were all over my clothes, blood was splattered all over my body, even my hair was slick with it. Had someone walked by, it might have appeared that I had rolled around in the puddle of what was left of the gnome. Indeed, the only thing that even really gave the hint of what the creature had been were the bones, and most of those had been broken under onslaught of my sword.
It took me a few moments to comprehend what I had done, and when it hit me I was scared. I was not scarred because I had killed the gnome; in fact I was quite glad. I was scared because I had given into the rage and loved every moment of it.
I stood up, not bothering to brush myself off. The first morning light was starting to show over the tree tops as I picked up my sword. It would need to be sharpened, but I was unconcerned. If I needed to sharpen it a thousand more times I would. There would be no stopping my quest for vengeance, especially after this ordeal. Swiftly I began started to my destination once more.
My eyes were ablaze as I finished my trek to Helan’s cottage. I swung the door with enough force that it would have woken her, had she not already been up and cooking breakfast. A look of concern crossed her eyes, and then fear as I moved silently passed her. I threw my sword onto the floor wordlessly, then collapsed onto the cot. I knew now that she wasn’t scared for me, but of me.
It was mid-afternoon when I came out of my reverie, which was odd considering I should have been up a few hours before. Even stranger, I could have sworn that I had dreamt during it, something elves rarely do. To humans, reverie is just sleeping, but it is no where near that simple. It is a level of self healing, of the body and mind almost turning in on themselves and knowing nothing else. To dream in a reverie is bad. The fact that I came out of it with a chill up my spine, is something I care not to mention.
There was a light lunch laid on the table, with a pitcher of now warm water next to it. I was sure that I wouldn’t see Helan today, or maybe even ever again for that matter. In a way I regretted scaring her, but she was a human, and I couldn’t let myself worry about one of their kind’s feelings. To do so, would be to turn my back on everything that I was ever taught.
I ate the lunch quickly and drained the pitcher, water running down off my chin as I tilted my head back higher. I tossed the metal container onto the table where it made an empty sound, as I looked around for my sword. Noting that it was no where in sight, I finally noticed the note on the door.
Elf,
I brought your sword to the smith. There are some clean cloths on the
chair, and a wash basin is on the south side of the cottage. Derrin wishes to
speak with you once you get the chance.
Helan
As I read the note, I knew what she wanted to write, but wouldn’t. She wanted me out, and I would oblige, but first I would clean myself up. There was no need to walk around covered in the blood of a dead foe, at least not this early in the day.
* * * * * * * * * * *
After cleaning up and putting on some clean cloths, I headed down into town. I wasn’t sure what to expect from Derrin. Had Helan told him of her encounter with me from the previous night? Had he gazed upon the remains of the gnome and decided that I was the greater monster? Pondering these types of thoughts, I took my time.
Before I could go to town, I walked past the place of last nights skirmish. I slowed my steps even more as I passed. The tree and ground were covered in blood, although it looked like someone had made an effort to clean away some of the mess. Most of the bones were missing, although as I bent down I found a few shards lying in the grass.
I quickly returned to my route to town, as a knot of fear welled up inside my stomach. There was something inside of me that scared me. It was almost like another being living there. And I was sure I would have to face it more than once in the coming days, as my personal war against the gnomes was about to begin. The only question I had was, would I be able to regain control of myself or be swept away in the rage never to return?
* * * * * * * * * * *
I found Derrin sitting outside his house, speaking with an elderly man clearly approaching his last years. I stopped outside the yard, so as not to interrupt their conversation. From what little I could hear, the older man was concerned about a problem with the town well, and Derrin was doing his best to assure the man that it would be taken care of.
Thoughts kept floating through my head, most filled with extreme amounts of violence. More often than not they were more gruesome ways to maim and kill those damn gnomes. I might have been lost in my own world had I not had a tug on my sleeve.
“Hey,” a quiet voice said.
Looking down, I found a young boy, no more than five or six staring up at me. “Yes?’
“Are you really a demon?” His question caught me completely off guard as his blue eyes shone in the afternoon sun.
“Where would you get that idea, child?” I asked, kneeling down to look at him face to face.
“Mommy says that whatever killed the gnome last night must have been a demon, cuz she never saw anything like it in her whole life,” his words didn’t have any ill intentions, they were just statements from an child with an innocent view of life. Yet they started to anger me. “And I heard Old Gill say that you killed the gnome.”
It was all I could do from not backhanding the child. The rage that I had let in the night before now sought entry and it was all I could do to hold it back. It was my right to slay my attacker, and my right to do with his remains as I wished. There was no honor in a surprise attack; therefore the attacker deserved no honor in death.
“Do you know what I went through at the hands of the gnomes?” I asked the child, my face turning into an evil sneer. “Did your mother or Old Gill ever think of that?”
The child was visibly shaking as he began inching backwards. Immediately I felt ashamed, for even if the child was human he did not deserve my outburst. His mother and this Old Gill fellow were the ones I should be angry with. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a piece of candy that I had taken from Helan’s table.
“I’m sorry child, I did not mean to scare you,” I tried my best apologetic voice, as I extended my hand. “Forgive me little one, I’ve had a long few days.”
Still the child backed up. He would have broken into a run had he not backed into a pair of legs. Startled the child wheeled around, as I looked up at Derrin, who had finally freed himself of his business with the old man.
“Troy,” Derrin softly said softly. “What do we do when someone asks for forgiveness?”
Troy turned partially around, but wouldn’t bring himself to look me in the eyes. “You’re forgiven.”
“He’s offering you one of Helan’s candies, are you going to take it?” Appartently the child hadn’t realized that it was Helan’s candy, for his eyes lit up as he cautiously walked over and took the candy.
“Thank you,” he said, still averting his gaze.
“You’re welcome young Troy,” I dutifully responded, standing up once more.
“Run along home now Troy, I think I heard your mother calling for you,” Derrin had added the last part just to help hurry the child along. It worked wonders, as Troy was running in the direction of his home before Derrin could finish.
As the child disappeared from sight, Derrin walked over. “Your time in our village has yet to be a good time for you.”
“It will never be a good time,” I replied curtly. “Do not take this the wrong way, but I am not one of your kind. I do not belong here. You and your fellow villagers have been most gracious, but I could never truly enjoy myself here.”
“Why is that?”
“Men and Elves are different, our outlooks on everything are too opposite. The same can be said of our lifestyles. Where Man is brash and quick to make a move, Elves prefer to contemplate and look to the affects each action will have in the future.”
“By your saying then, you are more Man than Elf,” Derrin spoke, looking to the great tree in his yard. “You wish to run off and attack the gnomes with no planning, just for the sake of a quick revenge. That is why you came here, is it not? You would like your sword, so you can go as soon as possible to attack some gnomes. Welcome to the World of Man, Elf. I think you’ll fit in perfectly.”
He let the words hang there. There was nothing I could say and he knew it. He knew he had caught me in my own words, and bold words at that. I gazed at the tree along with him for many moments, watching a gentle breeze blow through its branches.
“Rumor has it that you killed a gnome last night,” Derrin broke the silence, with the only topic he could probably think of.
“I did,” I confirmed. “And in doing so I have alienated some of your fellow villagers. Apparently there are some who think of me as a demon.”
“Those that say that have never been in combat,” the tone in his voice gave me the impression that he was thinking of something else as he spoke to me. “Trust me when I say that you have alienated very few in this village. And those that you did are as easy to win back as they are to lose.”
“Even so, I have no desire to stay in this village any longer. I ask you for a sword, and although I have no way to pay, I will work it off in the form of slaying our mutual enemies.”
“I would ask you only to wait one more day,” Derrin said quietly. “Tomorrow night I am having a council with all of the village’s rangers. I would be pleased if you could add your knowledge and counsel to our gathering.”
I owed him too much to say no, although every part of my body and mind wished to charge into the forest and go gnome hunting. “Very well, although I do not think I will be staying with Helan anymore after last night. She was frightened to say the least.”
“I spoke with her this morning and she mentioned nothing of the sort, but if you want you can stay here,” he replied as he started moving towards his house.
