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Song of Shattered Blades
1.2 Hommes Optare
1.2 Hommes Optare
What is it that men wish for, a king asks,
Of a pauper, of a knight, and a sellsword.
Riches, says one. Titles, says another.
To be king, declares the last.
Such is the hubris of man.
– King Qadrian Tessius of Drace, the First of His Name, an excerpt from the royal treatise Hommes Optare (“Men Wish”)
Shadows crept upon the edges of her vision, mocking her, it seemed. Dark gray upon black swirled and parted, forming into the wooden slats of the ceiling that hung above her face. Blinking the mist away from her eyes, Eltera heard the groaning creak of wood and the gentle crash of water in the near distance. She turned her head and found herself lying upon a wide featherbed mattress, her bare limbs twisted in the soft sheets. Breathing rhythmically, she noted that the fabric smelled faintly of Rentiki.
Slowly, the dark aelf sat up and could see that the bed was set into an alcove of the wide cabin she found herself in now, the dim light of several lanterns that hung about the room casting shadows that seemed to dance upon the wooden slats of the walls. The whole of it pitched and rolled slightly beneath her in time to unseen waves just outside the latticed windows across from where she sat, the motion making her feel somewhat ill and nauseous. Her people were not a seafaring race for there were no waves or oceans beneath the sunless depths of the earth.
It was night, she realized, judging by the darkness beyond the wavering glass and the weak moonlight spilling through it upon the floor. The warmth inside the ship’s cabin was almost cloying as was the sweet scent of burning incense that hung in the air, mingling with the unmistakable tang of sea-salt. Eltera saw a smokeless fire crackling in a stone hearth in the far corner of the room. Did ships have fireplaces, she wondered absently?
Her long white hair unbound and tussled from a restless sleep, the dark aelf was clothed in nothing but a simple white woolen shift, leaving her limbs naked. Her head ached and it was all she could do to keep the room from spinning in her vision. Gingerly, she flexed her hands and saw that the wounds there were freshly bandaged with no hint of blood to be seen upon the linen. With a start, Eltera twisted this way and that, scanning the room for Amurisil. Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw that the sword was indeed safe and sound, the blade sheathed in its tooled leather scabbard and lying upon the large wooden table at the center of the cabin.
The rest of her belongings were piled there as well, the silvery metal links of her chainmail armor glinting in the moonlight upon the chair where it had been hung. A brass basin of cool water stood upon the table amidst her kit, lapping against the edges as the ship rocked gently to and fro. A pitcher next to it was likewise filled, along with two empty opaque glasses. She was thirsty, and Eltera supposed that it had been hours if not days since she last drank or ate anything. The wind picked up and began to howl then, rattling the latticed glass of the windows with the insistence of a bothersome guest who had overstayed its welcome.
There was no one else to be seen in the cabin but straining her sharp ears, the dark aelf could hear voices just outside the wide oaken double doors of her room. They were rough sounds, of men bellowing some unknown sea chantey as they diced the night away. The words of their bawdy song were muffled and lost amidst the raucous laughter of the victors and the angry shouted hoots of the losers.
Gathering the blankets closer against her body to ward off some unseen chill, Eltera’s thoughts drifted back to the disturbing images she had witnessed and wondered what it all could mean.
1.2 Hommes Optare
What is it that men wish for, a king asks,
Of a pauper, of a knight, and a sellsword.
Riches, says one. Titles, says another.
To be king, declares the last.
Such is the hubris of man.
– King Qadrian Tessius of Drace, the First of His Name, an excerpt from the royal treatise Hommes Optare (“Men Wish”)
Shadows crept upon the edges of her vision, mocking her, it seemed. Dark gray upon black swirled and parted, forming into the wooden slats of the ceiling that hung above her face. Blinking the mist away from her eyes, Eltera heard the groaning creak of wood and the gentle crash of water in the near distance. She turned her head and found herself lying upon a wide featherbed mattress, her bare limbs twisted in the soft sheets. Breathing rhythmically, she noted that the fabric smelled faintly of Rentiki.
Slowly, the dark aelf sat up and could see that the bed was set into an alcove of the wide cabin she found herself in now, the dim light of several lanterns that hung about the room casting shadows that seemed to dance upon the wooden slats of the walls. The whole of it pitched and rolled slightly beneath her in time to unseen waves just outside the latticed windows across from where she sat, the motion making her feel somewhat ill and nauseous. Her people were not a seafaring race for there were no waves or oceans beneath the sunless depths of the earth.
It was night, she realized, judging by the darkness beyond the wavering glass and the weak moonlight spilling through it upon the floor. The warmth inside the ship’s cabin was almost cloying as was the sweet scent of burning incense that hung in the air, mingling with the unmistakable tang of sea-salt. Eltera saw a smokeless fire crackling in a stone hearth in the far corner of the room. Did ships have fireplaces, she wondered absently?
Her long white hair unbound and tussled from a restless sleep, the dark aelf was clothed in nothing but a simple white woolen shift, leaving her limbs naked. Her head ached and it was all she could do to keep the room from spinning in her vision. Gingerly, she flexed her hands and saw that the wounds there were freshly bandaged with no hint of blood to be seen upon the linen. With a start, Eltera twisted this way and that, scanning the room for Amurisil. Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw that the sword was indeed safe and sound, the blade sheathed in its tooled leather scabbard and lying upon the large wooden table at the center of the cabin.
The rest of her belongings were piled there as well, the silvery metal links of her chainmail armor glinting in the moonlight upon the chair where it had been hung. A brass basin of cool water stood upon the table amidst her kit, lapping against the edges as the ship rocked gently to and fro. A pitcher next to it was likewise filled, along with two empty opaque glasses. She was thirsty, and Eltera supposed that it had been hours if not days since she last drank or ate anything. The wind picked up and began to howl then, rattling the latticed glass of the windows with the insistence of a bothersome guest who had overstayed its welcome.
There was no one else to be seen in the cabin but straining her sharp ears, the dark aelf could hear voices just outside the wide oaken double doors of her room. They were rough sounds, of men bellowing some unknown sea chantey as they diced the night away. The words of their bawdy song were muffled and lost amidst the raucous laughter of the victors and the angry shouted hoots of the losers.
Gathering the blankets closer against her body to ward off some unseen chill, Eltera’s thoughts drifted back to the disturbing images she had witnessed and wondered what it all could mean.
1.2 Hommes Optare
Sitting up quickly, Eltera found her breath and her senses slowly returning to her. As she gradually realized her situation, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe, unharmed, and with her possessions. There was no doubt that Rentiki understood that she was not of Daoshan blood and Eltera could only shake her head. Lying to other about her heritage always left the ache in her stomach, but she had no choice in the matter. An open display of her heritage would have likely left blood split and not only her own.
Her head still ached slightly, though from what she could not say. The darkness of the greensight still haunted her mind and she did not wish to contemplate the truth of her vision from the Hrundic arrival.
Swinging her feet off the side of the bed, the Svari adjusted the bed sheets so that the linen fell over both her shoulders with the opening in the front. Looking down to close the linen over her shift, she reached to adjust the white rose that now hung from a necklace of ivy. Another gift from Tanius, it reminded her of the rose he had first given her during their stay in Thalanost. He had compared her to the rose in both beauty and rarity. She gently lifted the rose by the soft white petals, the pure white of the rose contrasting sharply with her ebony skin, and placed it over the fold of the sheets at her chest.
Eltera slipped to her feet and felt her balance on the gently swaying ship. The nimble aelf had little trouble keeping her feet, however the very motion of the ship was discomforting and slightly sickening. The sense of thirst and hunger may have contributed to the sense in her stomach. Her throat felt parched and tasted of sea salt.
With another cursory glance around the room, the Svari moved to the table. Carefully, she poured a glass of the water. Hearing the liquid move from pitcher to cup made her even more thirsty and she did not hesitate a moment before finishing the glass. The taste of the fresh water helped her stomach and her head immensely. It felt refreshing to find comfort in something as simple as a glass of water. Solutions usually came much more difficult for Eltera, as trouble seemed to haunt her at every turn and each day she was constantly trying to hold onto her sanity.
And again, she had found herself in a time and place that tested her very mind as she stared into a dark abyss. The "witches" were something wholly different and utterly lacking in any sense of humanity. While not a pious being, there was nothing she saw in the creatures or their shields that made her feel any warmth or care like she did with Amurisil. Even the blade had seemed to shiver and scream in terror as the eyes had turned upon them.
Setting the glass down, Eltera let he hands wander over to the blade. Gently, even reverently, she pulled the holy blade a few inches from its leather sheath again and gave the weapon a careful check to ensure it was safe. She felt safe in the cabin and gave the gemmed hilt a caring rub. They had made it to yet another evening.
Slipping the blade back into its scabbard, Eltera turned back to the table and the basin of water. The Svari freed her right hand from the folds of her makeshift cloak as she leaned over the bowl. The brass was dull from years of use, but the water felt refreshing as she wiped it across her brow. A second handful of the cool water met her face before she rubbed her hands through her hair. The green vines intermingled through her fingers with her white skin and it took a conscious thought from Eltera to remind herself what she was feeling. Tanius had taken her into the woods and asked her to swallow two nuts. She thought it some queer druidic mocking at first, expecting to see several birds and squirrels turn into druids with raucous laughter. Instead, several days later, she had found vines mingling with her hair and a flower hanging from her neck.
The gift had been a blessing from himself and the Circle. By having it close, she likewise had a part of Tanius close by as well.
Falling from her reverie, she found her right hand again lightly gripping the flower over her chest. Letting the thoughts drift away with a sigh, Eltera moved over towards the wide glass window. The panes of glass were set like diamonds in the metalwork and the edges of the window were decorated in a metallic display of sea creatures of various sorts. The artwork was highlighted with paint and some colored glasswork. Standing before the window, the Svari pulled the sheets tightly over her shoulder again as she looked out to the drifting sea. After a moment, her eyes lifted skyward, trying to gauge the moon for the time of night and how long it might have been since the vision.
She stood by the window for some time longer, contemplating her next actions. It seemed likely that Rentiki had no interest in keeping her a prisoner or prohibiting her movement in any way. He would have taken whatever advantage he might wish while she had been unconscious. She had truly been lucky by being in his company. Fate, sometimes, had a curious way of finding her.
That left the witches. Rentiki had referred to them at the Nornir. She did not know where they had come from, but felt certain that their means of achieving their goal was far from kindly. Their very beings were pure blackness that ate at the light and their shields seemed alive in horrific and painful displays of revulsion and pain. While Eltera held no hatred for Ivar, she knew there was no love lost in the man for her. Nonetheless, someone had to know the truth, even if he would not accept it or even hear it from her.
That meant she only had one realistic option.
The boat continued to lull and rock gently and Eltera was not certain if those were footsteps she heard approaching the door or not.
Sitting up quickly, Eltera found her breath and her senses slowly returning to her. As she gradually realized her situation, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe, unharmed, and with her possessions. There was no doubt that Rentiki understood that she was not of Daoshan blood and Eltera could only shake her head. Lying to other about her heritage always left the ache in her stomach, but she had no choice in the matter. An open display of her heritage would have likely left blood split and not only her own.
Her head still ached slightly, though from what she could not say. The darkness of the greensight still haunted her mind and she did not wish to contemplate the truth of her vision from the Hrundic arrival.
Swinging her feet off the side of the bed, the Svari adjusted the bed sheets so that the linen fell over both her shoulders with the opening in the front. Looking down to close the linen over her shift, she reached to adjust the white rose that now hung from a necklace of ivy. Another gift from Tanius, it reminded her of the rose he had first given her during their stay in Thalanost. He had compared her to the rose in both beauty and rarity. She gently lifted the rose by the soft white petals, the pure white of the rose contrasting sharply with her ebony skin, and placed it over the fold of the sheets at her chest.
Eltera slipped to her feet and felt her balance on the gently swaying ship. The nimble aelf had little trouble keeping her feet, however the very motion of the ship was discomforting and slightly sickening. The sense of thirst and hunger may have contributed to the sense in her stomach. Her throat felt parched and tasted of sea salt.
With another cursory glance around the room, the Svari moved to the table. Carefully, she poured a glass of the water. Hearing the liquid move from pitcher to cup made her even more thirsty and she did not hesitate a moment before finishing the glass. The taste of the fresh water helped her stomach and her head immensely. It felt refreshing to find comfort in something as simple as a glass of water. Solutions usually came much more difficult for Eltera, as trouble seemed to haunt her at every turn and each day she was constantly trying to hold onto her sanity.
And again, she had found herself in a time and place that tested her very mind as she stared into a dark abyss. The "witches" were something wholly different and utterly lacking in any sense of humanity. While not a pious being, there was nothing she saw in the creatures or their shields that made her feel any warmth or care like she did with Amurisil. Even the blade had seemed to shiver and scream in terror as the eyes had turned upon them.
Setting the glass down, Eltera let he hands wander over to the blade. Gently, even reverently, she pulled the holy blade a few inches from its leather sheath again and gave the weapon a careful check to ensure it was safe. She felt safe in the cabin and gave the gemmed hilt a caring rub. They had made it to yet another evening.
Slipping the blade back into its scabbard, Eltera turned back to the table and the basin of water. The Svari freed her right hand from the folds of her makeshift cloak as she leaned over the bowl. The brass was dull from years of use, but the water felt refreshing as she wiped it across her brow. A second handful of the cool water met her face before she rubbed her hands through her hair. The green vines intermingled through her fingers with her white skin and it took a conscious thought from Eltera to remind herself what she was feeling. Tanius had taken her into the woods and asked her to swallow two nuts. She thought it some queer druidic mocking at first, expecting to see several birds and squirrels turn into druids with raucous laughter. Instead, several days later, she had found vines mingling with her hair and a flower hanging from her neck.
The gift had been a blessing from himself and the Circle. By having it close, she likewise had a part of Tanius close by as well.
Falling from her reverie, she found her right hand again lightly gripping the flower over her chest. Letting the thoughts drift away with a sigh, Eltera moved over towards the wide glass window. The panes of glass were set like diamonds in the metalwork and the edges of the window were decorated in a metallic display of sea creatures of various sorts. The artwork was highlighted with paint and some colored glasswork. Standing before the window, the Svari pulled the sheets tightly over her shoulder again as she looked out to the drifting sea. After a moment, her eyes lifted skyward, trying to gauge the moon for the time of night and how long it might have been since the vision.
She stood by the window for some time longer, contemplating her next actions. It seemed likely that Rentiki had no interest in keeping her a prisoner or prohibiting her movement in any way. He would have taken whatever advantage he might wish while she had been unconscious. She had truly been lucky by being in his company. Fate, sometimes, had a curious way of finding her.
That left the witches. Rentiki had referred to them at the Nornir. She did not know where they had come from, but felt certain that their means of achieving their goal was far from kindly. Their very beings were pure blackness that ate at the light and their shields seemed alive in horrific and painful displays of revulsion and pain. While Eltera held no hatred for Ivar, she knew there was no love lost in the man for her. Nonetheless, someone had to know the truth, even if he would not accept it or even hear it from her.
That meant she only had one realistic option.
The boat continued to lull and rock gently and Eltera was not certain if those were footsteps she heard approaching the door or not.
1.2 Hommes Optare
Curling her fingers around Amurisil’s silver wire-wrapped ivory hilt, Eltera lifted the sword from its sheath and found the weight of it reassuring. The incredibly honed edge of its eog-forged blade shone a fierce silver in the dappled moonlight streaming through the uneven glass of the latticed windows. No blood was to be found at all upon the cool metal. The dark aelf heard the weapon’s disembodied voice whispering within her soul, it seemed, the experience of it soothing yet edged with doubt and something akin to fear, or so she thought. Backlash, she perceived the word soundlessly.
Eltera pondered its meaning, at first puzzled when Amurisil flashed a mental image to its wielder. Within her mind’s eye, she saw a holy aura of silver light, the ethereal glow of it softly illuminating the eog-forged blade while Amurisil began to channel its healing magic upon her wounds as she had seen it done many times before. Only in this instance, the normally pristine light faltered and shifted to a hideous shade of dark crimson that seemed to hunger for her blood instead, siphoning life rather than restoring it. As quickly as the dream-like vision appeared before her, it faded and Eltera once again found herself standing within the unfamiliar ship’s cabin.
Disquieted by what the sword had just shown her, the dark aelf replaced Amurisil back upon the table gently, appearing lost amidst a sea of troubled thought. Eltera took a moment to wash her face over the brass basin, letting the cool water wash over slightly feverish skin and allowing the disturbing memories of it all to sluice away as well. It was too hot in the room, she supposed.
After drying herself with a clean cloth left beside the basin, Eltera moved toward the latticed windows and tried to peer out the smoky, wavering glass. Outside she could make out the jagged shoreline of the Dracian harbor as it ringed its way into the shadowed distance. Eluna was a waxing, imperfect orb of pure white silver, appearing very much like a sleepy half-lidded eye as it hung in the darkened sky. It wouldn’t be long before it was full in a few nights’ time, though Eltera couldn’t say exactly how much time had passed since she fell into unconsciousness. Clouds shrouded much of the celestial heavens, and were too much of a match for the weak twinkling light of stars to shine through.
The alabaster towers and arching spires of the Dracian capital seemed to defy gravity itself, their windows lit by a myriad sea of hearth fires that burned brightly against the twilight. How eerily beautiful the cityscape was by night, she thought with idle wonder.
The ship was still anchored at the Ebontine, that much Eltera could see. Inky black waves crested below and splashed against the hull, foaming as they did. The gentle sound they made was somehow relaxing. Her quiet reverie was shattered when the coarse, muffled voices of the men outside the cabin’s doors broke into another vulgar song, this time accompanied by what sounded like rustic panpipes. Sailors were wont to throw themselves into their leisure as much as their work, Eltera surmised.
Leaving the windows, the dark aelf crossed over the rushes upon the wooden floor and took closer note of the cabin she now found herself in. Strange, eerie masks carved of dark wood hung upon one wall, their elongated faces painted garishly to resemble nothing so much as goblins, trolls, and exotic animals. Multicolored beads and plumed feathers adorned many of them, lending an even more alien appearance than normal. The tanned skins of various beasts were draped close by, bearing intricately striped patterns, some in orange and black, others in black and white. A few bore fashionable dark black spots against tawny yellow fur.
A ceramic globe was located in one corner, suspended within a gyroscopic frame of expertly carved mahogany. Its detailed surface was painted with land masses and oceans Eltera supposed were representative of the whole of the world, though she couldn’t make out the strange script that labeled each sea or nation upon it.
Lacking anything that resembled a flume much less a chimney, the cozy stone hearth in the opposite corner of the room did indeed house a small, crackling fire. Although the flames gave off light and warmth, the dark aelf noted that there was no smoke and no dangerous embers to spark a fire that could spread to the rest of the ship.
Continuing to scan the cabin, Eltera passed by a compact bookcase that stood off on the opposite wall, most of the tomes bound in leather and bearing titles written in equally mystifying languages. Those mundane few she could read were in Common and appeared to be nothing more than simple texts or baffling technical manuals pertaining to units of measure and weights of scale as they dealt with cargo. Though it appeared that she may be able to speak and understand any tongue she happens to hear, reading and writing is a different matter entirely.
A tidy writing desk lay against another corner near the bed’s alcove, an unlit lantern hanging over the somewhat cramped quarters. Despite the darkness present there, Eltera could make out various metal instruments that she guessed were integral to navigation and charting a ship’s course at sea. Having never claimed to be much of a sailor herself, she could not say what most of the tools were called by name nor each of its intended purpose exactly, though she did recognize a compass and a telescoping spyglass when she saw them. Scrolls were neatly bundled in the desk’s cubby holes, tagged and filed in order. Accompanied by feathered quill pens and stoppered bottles of ink, charts bearing stars and constellations were spread over the desk’s surface, along with a large map that bore the likeness of the vast northern reaches of the surface world as far as she knew it. The language written upon the unrolled parchment was unfamiliar, much to her disappointment.
Eltera noticed a necklace fashioned of ivory-white bones from some strange, exotic animal was piled over the map, the weight of it perhaps helping to keep the charts from being blown away by an errant breeze should the latched windows be open. Sharp, jagged ribs hung in a brilliant corona under the thong which in itself was made from the creature’s vertebrae. At the center of the macabre piece of jewelry was the beasty’s skull, its pitted snout baring long, wicked fangs that could have once held a potent venom. A snake, she guessed, and a fairly large one at that. Eltera realized that the necklace was the same one Rentiki had worn when she first saw him, though most of it had been hidden beneath the fabric of his colorful vest at the time.
Just as the dark aelf started to turn away from the desk, she heard a softly hollow clattering, as if of tiny bones. Whirling, Eltera’s breath caught in her throat as the necklace that had moments before been lying as dead and lifeless as the animal’s skeleton from which it was made began to stir on its own accord. Abruptly, the bones split apart from each other and veered off in all directions, taking to the air with surprising speed.
Startled, the dark aelf weaved and ducked about to evade the small projectiles, the blanket she had been clutching against her slender shoulders dropping to the floor in her haste to lay forgotten in a heap at her feet as Eltera threw up her arms to shield her face. The flying pieces of bone narrowly missed as she managed to avoid being hit, nimble as the dark aelf was. Still, her eyes widened all the same when the animated necklace, seemingly possessed of a mind of its own, reformed itself into the very likeness it once bore in life, that of a sinuous skeletal serpent that floated before her as light as a feather caught in the wind.
Staring at her with eyeless sockets as it coiled through the air, the creature bared its sharp fangs in a silent hiss, and seemed poised to strike at the first sign of movement on Eltera’s part. The dark aelf warrior froze, her breathing short and rapid as thoughts of action raced through her mind.
Curling her fingers around Amurisil’s silver wire-wrapped ivory hilt, Eltera lifted the sword from its sheath and found the weight of it reassuring. The incredibly honed edge of its eog-forged blade shone a fierce silver in the dappled moonlight streaming through the uneven glass of the latticed windows. No blood was to be found at all upon the cool metal. The dark aelf heard the weapon’s disembodied voice whispering within her soul, it seemed, the experience of it soothing yet edged with doubt and something akin to fear, or so she thought. Backlash, she perceived the word soundlessly.
Eltera pondered its meaning, at first puzzled when Amurisil flashed a mental image to its wielder. Within her mind’s eye, she saw a holy aura of silver light, the ethereal glow of it softly illuminating the eog-forged blade while Amurisil began to channel its healing magic upon her wounds as she had seen it done many times before. Only in this instance, the normally pristine light faltered and shifted to a hideous shade of dark crimson that seemed to hunger for her blood instead, siphoning life rather than restoring it. As quickly as the dream-like vision appeared before her, it faded and Eltera once again found herself standing within the unfamiliar ship’s cabin.
Disquieted by what the sword had just shown her, the dark aelf replaced Amurisil back upon the table gently, appearing lost amidst a sea of troubled thought. Eltera took a moment to wash her face over the brass basin, letting the cool water wash over slightly feverish skin and allowing the disturbing memories of it all to sluice away as well. It was too hot in the room, she supposed.
After drying herself with a clean cloth left beside the basin, Eltera moved toward the latticed windows and tried to peer out the smoky, wavering glass. Outside she could make out the jagged shoreline of the Dracian harbor as it ringed its way into the shadowed distance. Eluna was a waxing, imperfect orb of pure white silver, appearing very much like a sleepy half-lidded eye as it hung in the darkened sky. It wouldn’t be long before it was full in a few nights’ time, though Eltera couldn’t say exactly how much time had passed since she fell into unconsciousness. Clouds shrouded much of the celestial heavens, and were too much of a match for the weak twinkling light of stars to shine through.
The alabaster towers and arching spires of the Dracian capital seemed to defy gravity itself, their windows lit by a myriad sea of hearth fires that burned brightly against the twilight. How eerily beautiful the cityscape was by night, she thought with idle wonder.
The ship was still anchored at the Ebontine, that much Eltera could see. Inky black waves crested below and splashed against the hull, foaming as they did. The gentle sound they made was somehow relaxing. Her quiet reverie was shattered when the coarse, muffled voices of the men outside the cabin’s doors broke into another vulgar song, this time accompanied by what sounded like rustic panpipes. Sailors were wont to throw themselves into their leisure as much as their work, Eltera surmised.
Leaving the windows, the dark aelf crossed over the rushes upon the wooden floor and took closer note of the cabin she now found herself in. Strange, eerie masks carved of dark wood hung upon one wall, their elongated faces painted garishly to resemble nothing so much as goblins, trolls, and exotic animals. Multicolored beads and plumed feathers adorned many of them, lending an even more alien appearance than normal. The tanned skins of various beasts were draped close by, bearing intricately striped patterns, some in orange and black, others in black and white. A few bore fashionable dark black spots against tawny yellow fur.
A ceramic globe was located in one corner, suspended within a gyroscopic frame of expertly carved mahogany. Its detailed surface was painted with land masses and oceans Eltera supposed were representative of the whole of the world, though she couldn’t make out the strange script that labeled each sea or nation upon it.
Lacking anything that resembled a flume much less a chimney, the cozy stone hearth in the opposite corner of the room did indeed house a small, crackling fire. Although the flames gave off light and warmth, the dark aelf noted that there was no smoke and no dangerous embers to spark a fire that could spread to the rest of the ship.
Continuing to scan the cabin, Eltera passed by a compact bookcase that stood off on the opposite wall, most of the tomes bound in leather and bearing titles written in equally mystifying languages. Those mundane few she could read were in Common and appeared to be nothing more than simple texts or baffling technical manuals pertaining to units of measure and weights of scale as they dealt with cargo. Though it appeared that she may be able to speak and understand any tongue she happens to hear, reading and writing is a different matter entirely.
A tidy writing desk lay against another corner near the bed’s alcove, an unlit lantern hanging over the somewhat cramped quarters. Despite the darkness present there, Eltera could make out various metal instruments that she guessed were integral to navigation and charting a ship’s course at sea. Having never claimed to be much of a sailor herself, she could not say what most of the tools were called by name nor each of its intended purpose exactly, though she did recognize a compass and a telescoping spyglass when she saw them. Scrolls were neatly bundled in the desk’s cubby holes, tagged and filed in order. Accompanied by feathered quill pens and stoppered bottles of ink, charts bearing stars and constellations were spread over the desk’s surface, along with a large map that bore the likeness of the vast northern reaches of the surface world as far as she knew it. The language written upon the unrolled parchment was unfamiliar, much to her disappointment.
Eltera noticed a necklace fashioned of ivory-white bones from some strange, exotic animal was piled over the map, the weight of it perhaps helping to keep the charts from being blown away by an errant breeze should the latched windows be open. Sharp, jagged ribs hung in a brilliant corona under the thong which in itself was made from the creature’s vertebrae. At the center of the macabre piece of jewelry was the beasty’s skull, its pitted snout baring long, wicked fangs that could have once held a potent venom. A snake, she guessed, and a fairly large one at that. Eltera realized that the necklace was the same one Rentiki had worn when she first saw him, though most of it had been hidden beneath the fabric of his colorful vest at the time.
Just as the dark aelf started to turn away from the desk, she heard a softly hollow clattering, as if of tiny bones. Whirling, Eltera’s breath caught in her throat as the necklace that had moments before been lying as dead and lifeless as the animal’s skeleton from which it was made began to stir on its own accord. Abruptly, the bones split apart from each other and veered off in all directions, taking to the air with surprising speed.
Startled, the dark aelf weaved and ducked about to evade the small projectiles, the blanket she had been clutching against her slender shoulders dropping to the floor in her haste to lay forgotten in a heap at her feet as Eltera threw up her arms to shield her face. The flying pieces of bone narrowly missed as she managed to avoid being hit, nimble as the dark aelf was. Still, her eyes widened all the same when the animated necklace, seemingly possessed of a mind of its own, reformed itself into the very likeness it once bore in life, that of a sinuous skeletal serpent that floated before her as light as a feather caught in the wind.
Staring at her with eyeless sockets as it coiled through the air, the creature bared its sharp fangs in a silent hiss, and seemed poised to strike at the first sign of movement on Eltera’s part. The dark aelf warrior froze, her breathing short and rapid as thoughts of action raced through her mind.
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