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[5E] The Age of Worms - Solid Snake's Campaign
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<blockquote data-quote="Alexander Bryant" data-source="post: 7200938" data-attributes="member: 6884000"><p><strong>Journal of Etona - Entry Seven</strong></p><p></p><p>As we left this place of such transformation – for this staggered family and for me – I realized I had to return. I want to return here, spend a <em>gelen s’he</em>, one full cycle of Her countenance – what humans would loosely call a month – understanding why this happened, why here, why now. Perhaps I could bring some kind of peace to Allisa who lost so much. I would spend the rest of the journey down to the keep talking to them. It was too soon for laughter, but I made playful Mina, the younger daughter, and even serious Alice smile from time to time. Alice in particular was interested in my stories of Sehanine. With her mother’s blessing, I gave her my half-moon pendant. I told her it would sing to the goddess when she was too sad to sing herself, and that She would smile down on her from time to time, if she was brave. Sehanine is goddess of much, I explained, including <em>glennis i’mor’e</em>, happy endings after terrible trial. For Mina, during the trip down I finished a wooden doll of Obi I had been slowly carving for a while and gave it to her to protect her.</p><p></p><p>Their farm was perched not far from the top of a long day’s descent into steaming hot jungle. Behind us, in the cooler clime where my entire life has been, insects do not really prey on my kin. I loathe them, of course, as I have made clear before – they are what nightmares aspire to – but they merely pester if you are vigilant. Here in this damp land of too much life under a swollen, sweating sun, they have come into their own. They are masters here, and our every faltering step is harried. I hate it, but my companions seem to be, eh, “holding it together”, so I will march on without complaint. Verdre would be proud.</p><p></p><p>Besides, there were worse things in the world, demonstrated to us as we came to the keep.</p><p></p><p>People of the Dragon, my tribe call them. Verdre had told me as much she knew: there are as many tribes of them as there are humans and elves, but they are largely hidden away inhabiting the bleaker places: swamps, <em>dans’e del</em> (underground), and scattered among the lands of ice. They are closely bound to their dragon lords, it is said, and so they may harbor much malice. She had never heard of their folk following the kinder dragons: gold, silver, the Lord Platinum. Still, their reputation is not as that of, say, orcs or trolls or ogres: they are more mystery than menace.</p><p></p><p>I wonder why I am thinking of <em>me’ara amo</em>, my . . . what is the human word? “aunt”, so much?</p><p></p><p>The Lizard Folk were menace now, however. The human keep was in the later stages of being invaded. All along the ramparts, on the ground, inside the walls: People of the Dragon everywhere, attacking the humans, swarming them.</p><p></p><p>“Leave the horses and our charges back up the road. We may yet be in time to help,” I cried but only Rey heard me. My words were drowned out by Mel who, electrified at the scene down there, screamed a long ululating war cry and flew into the fray, Malak and Devon running haplessly after her, Egan trailing behind.</p><p></p><p>“Egan! Rey and I will try to eliminate that spell-user and then whatever else nearby. We will approach from there,” I called to him, pointing, and he nodded as he awkwardly ran after the one-woman war machine.</p><p></p><p>“She is . . . certainly brave,” I remarked to Rey.</p><p></p><p>“She’s a loonie,” Rey replied.</p><p></p><p>I wish now we could have approached the reptilians in peace somehow as elves not connected to the fray. But there was no time, and the melee was in full concert, so we were forced to stalk our prey, remain focused, and attacked from shadow.</p><p></p><p>Whomever he had been, after a moment he was no more. He had entangled me in a painful but usefully concealing brier, but Rey and I – and of course Obi the Mighty – are all too efficient. His cadre of guards also attacked us, and we were slowly tearing through them, though they battered us considerably, when suddenly there was a call to retreat. Something had happened on the field: all of them were pulling back. We and the rest of our force were taking some residual shots, but the Lizard Folk pulled back quickly and efficiently into the swamp from where they had presumably come.</p><p></p><p>Mel had been knocked out as had Egan. Malak was dead. Many other humans from this post likewise had to be buried by their fellows. We were hailed as welcome though unlooked for relief, a couple of the men recognizing their northern comrades even including our brash paladin. There were momentary smiles here and there.</p><p></p><p>“What happened here?” Egan asked Horace, one of the only men still left alive who could take command. Young and wide-eyed, he was struggling to adapt to forming orders rather than merely passing them on.</p><p></p><p>“This was their second attack. We fended off the first one just this morning, lost some people but we held. Didn’t know they’d come back so soon. No one knows what’s happening out there. We’ve just been waiting. Last week we sent scouts into the swamp, but none’ve come back.”</p><p></p><p>Rey and I tended to the wounded. I wrapped, cleaned, set bone and sang. For some I hummed, and others wanted to talk. I was there for them all, as meager as that seemed for some of them.</p><p></p><p>And we mourned Malak. Devon told us what he did: he sacrificed himself so that Melinde could be pulled to safety. I wonder what effect that has had on her, knowing this?</p><p></p><p>Before the keep largely went to sleep, our party convened a meeting with Horace and his new command structure, such as it was. Four men had been taken alive and they needed a foray to find them, to also see if more attacks were on the way, and to find one or more of the scouts. He had literally no men trained who could also be spared, so I volunteered, and Rey stepped forward as well much to my relief. We would leave the next morning.</p><p></p><p>Rey and I – and Obi – set out. The very air seemed to be a swarming mass, but I was finally alone with her for the first time in a while. This oppressive world squeezed us into silence, and we talked little. From time to time I caught Rey’s eyes, and we each reflected misery there for this place, but also purpose for the mission, and, still, warmth – a glance, a nod, even a smile. I could not tell if her reacting to me was burdensome to her. At one point I laughed at this little game of unspoken language and she, puzzled for a moment but then seeing the paradox and absurdity of our being alone together in this crowded and lonely desolate place of too much life, also laughed. There was at length some talk too, and we carved out a little comfort in this hungry land.</p><p></p><p>The tracks of prisoners and their captors were surprisingly difficult to follow. Even Rey was unsure at several turns. I tried my best to understand the place feeling certain that at some level one forest was like another and could therefore be learned if the will and patience were there. I became lost more times than I would care to admit, even to myself, but I did not give up. I knew there were clues, signs, even roads to those who understood. Rey adapted more quickly, of course. That we would be seen again by our friends would be from her efforts, not mine.</p><p></p><p>When we stopped at a “promising place” to Rey, I took first watch that night as usual. We had chosen and climbed a tall, twisting tree that offered wide branch trunks in which to nestle. While she slept, I thought about everything that had happened to us so far since meeting one another. I lost myself inside my head and was jolted back to my body by a terrible crushing force. The longest snake I had ever seen was wrapped around me and was squeezing me to . . . <em>dinner</em>.</p><p></p><p>Being crushed is like being dead: you cannot speak, breathe, move, cry out, and you are food for the taking. There is hardly any difference between them at all, and as my vision became red I knew it wouldn’t matter which state I was in for much longer.</p><p></p><p>I twisted until my chest fell into a coil that was not as tight. I gasped to Rey. I coughed. Then I simply screamed even knowing I was spending the last gasp of air I was likely to get. The sound was of a trapped mouse, but Rey heard it! She woke up and immediately grabbed her spear. She slashed at the creature, and then Obi – also now awake – tore into it as well. I had reached my dagger and now I bothered to use it as best I could before I blacked out.</p><p></p><p>All these rips and tears convinced the serpent to move off, darting with surprising speed up into the topmost reaches of the tree. I dropped to the tree’s base and gasped.</p><p></p><p>“Even,” I wheezed, “the hugs of this place will kill you.”</p><p></p><p>Rey noticed then that we were being watched. A small band of the Lizard Folk had gathered on the other side of a large pond near our tree.</p><p></p><p>I will let Rey narrate what happened next as I do not speak Draconic.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Four Lizardmen appeared on the other side of the water. One was old and bent; the other three were soldiers. The old one seemed to be holding the others back. I glanced around me but could not see Etona anywhere. We were in no shape for another fight after the python. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">I called to them in Draconic. “We do not wish to fight!” The elder, Hiska his name, wanted to sit down with me. I agreed, and he walked through the water to me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Hiska told me that the men from Blackwall Keep were kidnapped by the current lizard king Shukak to be sacrificed. Then he told me a story.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Many years ago, Lizard Clutch (eggs) were infected with a parasite, a worm. The Worms killed all the Clutch, an entire generation of Lizard young. Hiska mourns them still. During this time, a “great Mother”, Ethane, came. “Great Mother” means dragon in Draconic, I knew this. Ethane told the Lizardfolk that the Worms were caused by some powerful wizards in Greyhawk. The Lizardfolk were angry. Ethane sent guardians to protect the new Clutch. She also left one of her eggs with them as a sign of trust.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The old king, Nushulk, did not wish to fight the humans. But Shukak came from Greyhawk’s fighting pits. He challenged the king and killed him, and as tradition, became the new king. Ethane blessed him with great strength. They have also kept Hiska from the new Clutch. A few days ago, one of the garrison humans came and sneaked into the egg chamber. Hiska and the other Lizardfolk were told by Ethane that the human killed the eggs, stole their treasure and ran away. However, Hiska doubts this. Shukak used this rumor to gather the Lizardfolk. He swore revenge and attacked Blackwall Keep.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Hiska does not want war between Lizardfolk and Humans. He wants to broker peace with Greyhawk and he also wants to kill Shukak who seems to have brought woe and strife to this tribe. He asked me several times if I would be the mediator between the Humans and Lizardfolk. I told Hiska that we were here because we were investigating the Worms, which were now in Diamond Lake, our home.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Hiska will help us find the four men. He said he would delay their sacrifice. In return, he needs our help in killing Shukak. It will not be easy: he has the blessing of a dragon. However, it may be the only way to save the men and find out more about the Worms. I have agreed to return in two days’ time with more men. Now I must convince Blackwall Keep that we need to trust this Lizard Man.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Strangely, I do.</span></p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Our return to the keep was mercifully uneventful, though neither of us spent time meditating or sleeping, and so we arrived exhausted. During the journey back, I asked many questions of that conversation she had with Hiska, and it was then she told me of being raised by the dragon. Rey finally revealed her childhood to me. I had not asked, but she just started speaking.</p><p></p><p>She was sixteen when the orcs came to murder her family. She had been away from the house on an errand when she returned to blood and fire and marauder tracks leading away. Happiness, security, an entire life of wonder snuffed out in one scene.</p><p></p><p>She tracked them for days: they were a large enough group that any who lived out in the world could follow. They led into hills, then mountain, up to a cave. There they were harassing . . . a dragon. That must have been their quarry all along and Rey’s family was simply on their way.</p><p></p><p>Rey had no eyes for the monster: she charged in and began killing orcs like some dwarven god, much to the interest of the dragon. When they were all dead, Rey had dropped to the ground as well.</p><p></p><p><em>Are you alive, little avenger?</em> she – the dragon – had asked. Rey only then saw it for the first time. Of course she was aware of it also killing orcs, understood there was another monster in the chamber with her, but in her fury she had made the blue-scaled beast irrelevant as she had not expected to survive anyway.</p><p></p><p>“I had already died,” Rey said to me. I was leaning against her again. She had already scooted about two fingers width away, twice. She faced me now. “I do not need pity.”</p><p></p><p>“Do you see pity in these eyes?” No, she did not, but she looked away regardless. She rarely made eye contact with anyone, though she was beginning to with me, sometimes.</p><p></p><p>“You are distracting me.”</p><p></p><p>I thought about that for a moment and realized what it meant. A confession that I was her friend, maybe her first. I smiled with what I hoped was mischief and not joy – this was not the time for that – and beckoned her on.</p><p></p><p>“Her name . . . I will speak it later, if she wills it. I am sorry, I have no choice in this matter.”</p><p></p><p>“D’ren,” I said, waving it away. No matter.</p><p></p><p>Rey resumed: “She had been amused at my attacking an entire orc war party and curious about my . . . rage. Rage that became bottomless sorrow.” She was reliving the moment, probably for the hundredth time. I sat carefully still. It was difficult, but the mighty, like this anguished being who was by inches letting me in, sometimes needed <em>menewar’e</em>, to be alone with their thoughts in the company of another person she trusts.</p><p></p><p>“She adopted me,” Rey continued. “I do not know to this day why: she has no mothering instinct. She proceeded to treat me with disdain or ignored me most of the time. But she taught me her language. And using her magic she taught me how to hunt and to fight. I owe her much. I found you, and Egan and the others, and Obi, because of her, so perhaps it was good.”</p><p></p><p>“Were you doing something for her when you first met me?”</p><p></p><p>She nodded. “My mistress, what I call her, is ill after a fight with a black dragon. She has sent me out to find what might be the cause. I thought it was the plants at the farm where I first saw you – maybe eating sick cattle made her sick – but now I don’t think that. Now there are more clues: death magic, black dragon, acid, the worms. Are they related? I don’t know.”</p><p></p><p>They were the most words in a continuous stream she had ever said to me. I listened, trying to use the least.</p><p></p><p>I then asked for, and got, stories of some of the situations she had found herself in under the dragon’s rule. Some of them made me laugh and even she joined in with a smile from time to time. There must have been tales of pain and darkness as well, but tonight was not the night for those.</p><p></p><p>We struggled back and reached the keep at last. She gave a brief account to Egan and then went straight to the room designated for her and dropped asleep. I meanwhile explained in more detail to Egan and Mel, Horace and a couple of other men as well what had happened with us. I then sought meditation on these events, and I was bone tired as well even though the night had just fallen. Sometimes the playground is too much work. I headed upstairs. It says much of this land that the inside of a stone fortress is more welcoming to me than the trees under Her face.</p><p></p><p>I stopped short. There was an animal in the hallway, a dog, someone’s pet or perhaps part of the garrison. This one was small, though, and a little mangy. It seemed out of place there in the hallway. And it had green fur on its paws. A particular shade of green, one I had seen but not in years . . . .</p><p></p><p>It looked at me with the same expression that I was certainly giving it, each of us remembering, each not daring –.</p><p></p><p>A wave traveled across its fur as it grew larger. Egan brought fire to his hands, but I pushed them down, unafraid: I had seen this a hundred time. Its features, now shadowed, now misty, altered underneath as it rose up, standing, resolving itself into an elf. Into a Child of the Mirror.</p><p></p><p>Into Verdre Aspianne.</p><p></p><p>I don't remember running to her, I was just in her arms, she kissing my hair like she did when I was little, holding me so tight, so tight.</p><p></p><p>Verdre. <em>Me’ara amo</em>, beloved aunt, my father's sister, and sister also to her own twin, Skaen. She had with father raised me in mother's stead, that beloved woman who died, as all the mothers of our tribe's priestesses die, giving birth to me.</p><p></p><p>Angivre. The Silver. And now Verdre.</p><p></p><p>Forgiven.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Alexander Bryant, post: 7200938, member: 6884000"] [b]Journal of Etona - Entry Seven[/b] As we left this place of such transformation – for this staggered family and for me – I realized I had to return. I want to return here, spend a [I]gelen s’he[/I], one full cycle of Her countenance – what humans would loosely call a month – understanding why this happened, why here, why now. Perhaps I could bring some kind of peace to Allisa who lost so much. I would spend the rest of the journey down to the keep talking to them. It was too soon for laughter, but I made playful Mina, the younger daughter, and even serious Alice smile from time to time. Alice in particular was interested in my stories of Sehanine. With her mother’s blessing, I gave her my half-moon pendant. I told her it would sing to the goddess when she was too sad to sing herself, and that She would smile down on her from time to time, if she was brave. Sehanine is goddess of much, I explained, including [I]glennis i’mor’e[/I], happy endings after terrible trial. For Mina, during the trip down I finished a wooden doll of Obi I had been slowly carving for a while and gave it to her to protect her. Their farm was perched not far from the top of a long day’s descent into steaming hot jungle. Behind us, in the cooler clime where my entire life has been, insects do not really prey on my kin. I loathe them, of course, as I have made clear before – they are what nightmares aspire to – but they merely pester if you are vigilant. Here in this damp land of too much life under a swollen, sweating sun, they have come into their own. They are masters here, and our every faltering step is harried. I hate it, but my companions seem to be, eh, “holding it together”, so I will march on without complaint. Verdre would be proud. Besides, there were worse things in the world, demonstrated to us as we came to the keep. People of the Dragon, my tribe call them. Verdre had told me as much she knew: there are as many tribes of them as there are humans and elves, but they are largely hidden away inhabiting the bleaker places: swamps, [I]dans’e del[/I] (underground), and scattered among the lands of ice. They are closely bound to their dragon lords, it is said, and so they may harbor much malice. She had never heard of their folk following the kinder dragons: gold, silver, the Lord Platinum. Still, their reputation is not as that of, say, orcs or trolls or ogres: they are more mystery than menace. I wonder why I am thinking of [I]me’ara amo[/I], my . . . what is the human word? “aunt”, so much? The Lizard Folk were menace now, however. The human keep was in the later stages of being invaded. All along the ramparts, on the ground, inside the walls: People of the Dragon everywhere, attacking the humans, swarming them. “Leave the horses and our charges back up the road. We may yet be in time to help,” I cried but only Rey heard me. My words were drowned out by Mel who, electrified at the scene down there, screamed a long ululating war cry and flew into the fray, Malak and Devon running haplessly after her, Egan trailing behind. “Egan! Rey and I will try to eliminate that spell-user and then whatever else nearby. We will approach from there,” I called to him, pointing, and he nodded as he awkwardly ran after the one-woman war machine. “She is . . . certainly brave,” I remarked to Rey. “She’s a loonie,” Rey replied. I wish now we could have approached the reptilians in peace somehow as elves not connected to the fray. But there was no time, and the melee was in full concert, so we were forced to stalk our prey, remain focused, and attacked from shadow. Whomever he had been, after a moment he was no more. He had entangled me in a painful but usefully concealing brier, but Rey and I – and of course Obi the Mighty – are all too efficient. His cadre of guards also attacked us, and we were slowly tearing through them, though they battered us considerably, when suddenly there was a call to retreat. Something had happened on the field: all of them were pulling back. We and the rest of our force were taking some residual shots, but the Lizard Folk pulled back quickly and efficiently into the swamp from where they had presumably come. Mel had been knocked out as had Egan. Malak was dead. Many other humans from this post likewise had to be buried by their fellows. We were hailed as welcome though unlooked for relief, a couple of the men recognizing their northern comrades even including our brash paladin. There were momentary smiles here and there. “What happened here?” Egan asked Horace, one of the only men still left alive who could take command. Young and wide-eyed, he was struggling to adapt to forming orders rather than merely passing them on. “This was their second attack. We fended off the first one just this morning, lost some people but we held. Didn’t know they’d come back so soon. No one knows what’s happening out there. We’ve just been waiting. Last week we sent scouts into the swamp, but none’ve come back.” Rey and I tended to the wounded. I wrapped, cleaned, set bone and sang. For some I hummed, and others wanted to talk. I was there for them all, as meager as that seemed for some of them. And we mourned Malak. Devon told us what he did: he sacrificed himself so that Melinde could be pulled to safety. I wonder what effect that has had on her, knowing this? Before the keep largely went to sleep, our party convened a meeting with Horace and his new command structure, such as it was. Four men had been taken alive and they needed a foray to find them, to also see if more attacks were on the way, and to find one or more of the scouts. He had literally no men trained who could also be spared, so I volunteered, and Rey stepped forward as well much to my relief. We would leave the next morning. Rey and I – and Obi – set out. The very air seemed to be a swarming mass, but I was finally alone with her for the first time in a while. This oppressive world squeezed us into silence, and we talked little. From time to time I caught Rey’s eyes, and we each reflected misery there for this place, but also purpose for the mission, and, still, warmth – a glance, a nod, even a smile. I could not tell if her reacting to me was burdensome to her. At one point I laughed at this little game of unspoken language and she, puzzled for a moment but then seeing the paradox and absurdity of our being alone together in this crowded and lonely desolate place of too much life, also laughed. There was at length some talk too, and we carved out a little comfort in this hungry land. The tracks of prisoners and their captors were surprisingly difficult to follow. Even Rey was unsure at several turns. I tried my best to understand the place feeling certain that at some level one forest was like another and could therefore be learned if the will and patience were there. I became lost more times than I would care to admit, even to myself, but I did not give up. I knew there were clues, signs, even roads to those who understood. Rey adapted more quickly, of course. That we would be seen again by our friends would be from her efforts, not mine. When we stopped at a “promising place” to Rey, I took first watch that night as usual. We had chosen and climbed a tall, twisting tree that offered wide branch trunks in which to nestle. While she slept, I thought about everything that had happened to us so far since meeting one another. I lost myself inside my head and was jolted back to my body by a terrible crushing force. The longest snake I had ever seen was wrapped around me and was squeezing me to . . . [I]dinner[/I]. Being crushed is like being dead: you cannot speak, breathe, move, cry out, and you are food for the taking. There is hardly any difference between them at all, and as my vision became red I knew it wouldn’t matter which state I was in for much longer. I twisted until my chest fell into a coil that was not as tight. I gasped to Rey. I coughed. Then I simply screamed even knowing I was spending the last gasp of air I was likely to get. The sound was of a trapped mouse, but Rey heard it! She woke up and immediately grabbed her spear. She slashed at the creature, and then Obi – also now awake – tore into it as well. I had reached my dagger and now I bothered to use it as best I could before I blacked out. All these rips and tears convinced the serpent to move off, darting with surprising speed up into the topmost reaches of the tree. I dropped to the tree’s base and gasped. “Even,” I wheezed, “the hugs of this place will kill you.” Rey noticed then that we were being watched. A small band of the Lizard Folk had gathered on the other side of a large pond near our tree. I will let Rey narrate what happened next as I do not speak Draconic. *** [FONT=Verdana]Four Lizardmen appeared on the other side of the water. One was old and bent; the other three were soldiers. The old one seemed to be holding the others back. I glanced around me but could not see Etona anywhere. We were in no shape for another fight after the python. I called to them in Draconic. “We do not wish to fight!” The elder, Hiska his name, wanted to sit down with me. I agreed, and he walked through the water to me. Hiska told me that the men from Blackwall Keep were kidnapped by the current lizard king Shukak to be sacrificed. Then he told me a story. Many years ago, Lizard Clutch (eggs) were infected with a parasite, a worm. The Worms killed all the Clutch, an entire generation of Lizard young. Hiska mourns them still. During this time, a “great Mother”, Ethane, came. “Great Mother” means dragon in Draconic, I knew this. Ethane told the Lizardfolk that the Worms were caused by some powerful wizards in Greyhawk. The Lizardfolk were angry. Ethane sent guardians to protect the new Clutch. She also left one of her eggs with them as a sign of trust. The old king, Nushulk, did not wish to fight the humans. But Shukak came from Greyhawk’s fighting pits. He challenged the king and killed him, and as tradition, became the new king. Ethane blessed him with great strength. They have also kept Hiska from the new Clutch. A few days ago, one of the garrison humans came and sneaked into the egg chamber. Hiska and the other Lizardfolk were told by Ethane that the human killed the eggs, stole their treasure and ran away. However, Hiska doubts this. Shukak used this rumor to gather the Lizardfolk. He swore revenge and attacked Blackwall Keep. Hiska does not want war between Lizardfolk and Humans. He wants to broker peace with Greyhawk and he also wants to kill Shukak who seems to have brought woe and strife to this tribe. He asked me several times if I would be the mediator between the Humans and Lizardfolk. I told Hiska that we were here because we were investigating the Worms, which were now in Diamond Lake, our home. Hiska will help us find the four men. He said he would delay their sacrifice. In return, he needs our help in killing Shukak. It will not be easy: he has the blessing of a dragon. However, it may be the only way to save the men and find out more about the Worms. I have agreed to return in two days’ time with more men. Now I must convince Blackwall Keep that we need to trust this Lizard Man. Strangely, I do.[/FONT] *** Our return to the keep was mercifully uneventful, though neither of us spent time meditating or sleeping, and so we arrived exhausted. During the journey back, I asked many questions of that conversation she had with Hiska, and it was then she told me of being raised by the dragon. Rey finally revealed her childhood to me. I had not asked, but she just started speaking. She was sixteen when the orcs came to murder her family. She had been away from the house on an errand when she returned to blood and fire and marauder tracks leading away. Happiness, security, an entire life of wonder snuffed out in one scene. She tracked them for days: they were a large enough group that any who lived out in the world could follow. They led into hills, then mountain, up to a cave. There they were harassing . . . a dragon. That must have been their quarry all along and Rey’s family was simply on their way. Rey had no eyes for the monster: she charged in and began killing orcs like some dwarven god, much to the interest of the dragon. When they were all dead, Rey had dropped to the ground as well. [I]Are you alive, little avenger?[/I] she – the dragon – had asked. Rey only then saw it for the first time. Of course she was aware of it also killing orcs, understood there was another monster in the chamber with her, but in her fury she had made the blue-scaled beast irrelevant as she had not expected to survive anyway. “I had already died,” Rey said to me. I was leaning against her again. She had already scooted about two fingers width away, twice. She faced me now. “I do not need pity.” “Do you see pity in these eyes?” No, she did not, but she looked away regardless. She rarely made eye contact with anyone, though she was beginning to with me, sometimes. “You are distracting me.” I thought about that for a moment and realized what it meant. A confession that I was her friend, maybe her first. I smiled with what I hoped was mischief and not joy – this was not the time for that – and beckoned her on. “Her name . . . I will speak it later, if she wills it. I am sorry, I have no choice in this matter.” “D’ren,” I said, waving it away. No matter. Rey resumed: “She had been amused at my attacking an entire orc war party and curious about my . . . rage. Rage that became bottomless sorrow.” She was reliving the moment, probably for the hundredth time. I sat carefully still. It was difficult, but the mighty, like this anguished being who was by inches letting me in, sometimes needed [I]menewar’e[/I], to be alone with their thoughts in the company of another person she trusts. “She adopted me,” Rey continued. “I do not know to this day why: she has no mothering instinct. She proceeded to treat me with disdain or ignored me most of the time. But she taught me her language. And using her magic she taught me how to hunt and to fight. I owe her much. I found you, and Egan and the others, and Obi, because of her, so perhaps it was good.” “Were you doing something for her when you first met me?” She nodded. “My mistress, what I call her, is ill after a fight with a black dragon. She has sent me out to find what might be the cause. I thought it was the plants at the farm where I first saw you – maybe eating sick cattle made her sick – but now I don’t think that. Now there are more clues: death magic, black dragon, acid, the worms. Are they related? I don’t know.” They were the most words in a continuous stream she had ever said to me. I listened, trying to use the least. I then asked for, and got, stories of some of the situations she had found herself in under the dragon’s rule. Some of them made me laugh and even she joined in with a smile from time to time. There must have been tales of pain and darkness as well, but tonight was not the night for those. We struggled back and reached the keep at last. She gave a brief account to Egan and then went straight to the room designated for her and dropped asleep. I meanwhile explained in more detail to Egan and Mel, Horace and a couple of other men as well what had happened with us. I then sought meditation on these events, and I was bone tired as well even though the night had just fallen. Sometimes the playground is too much work. I headed upstairs. It says much of this land that the inside of a stone fortress is more welcoming to me than the trees under Her face. I stopped short. There was an animal in the hallway, a dog, someone’s pet or perhaps part of the garrison. This one was small, though, and a little mangy. It seemed out of place there in the hallway. And it had green fur on its paws. A particular shade of green, one I had seen but not in years . . . . It looked at me with the same expression that I was certainly giving it, each of us remembering, each not daring –. A wave traveled across its fur as it grew larger. Egan brought fire to his hands, but I pushed them down, unafraid: I had seen this a hundred time. Its features, now shadowed, now misty, altered underneath as it rose up, standing, resolving itself into an elf. Into a Child of the Mirror. Into Verdre Aspianne. I don't remember running to her, I was just in her arms, she kissing my hair like she did when I was little, holding me so tight, so tight. Verdre. [I]Me’ara amo[/I], beloved aunt, my father's sister, and sister also to her own twin, Skaen. She had with father raised me in mother's stead, that beloved woman who died, as all the mothers of our tribe's priestesses die, giving birth to me. Angivre. The Silver. And now Verdre. Forgiven. [/QUOTE]
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[5E] The Age of Worms - Solid Snake's Campaign
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