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The Mother of Dreams - Episode 5 (updated February 1st, 2005)
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<blockquote data-quote="RangerWickett" data-source="post: 1610491" data-attributes="member: 63"><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><strong>Episode Two: The Song of the Deep, Pt. II, Section I</strong></span></p><p></p><p>The snow was jagged, burning inside his nose, scraping his hands as he tried to claw his way free. His mother hadn’t moved since she fell over him, and now he could not feel the warmth of her body through the numbness of the icy winter night.</p><p></p><p>Allar whimpered, and heard nothing but wind roaring.</p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>The dark elf woman coughed, trying to breathe after nearly drowning. She said something quietly, the sounds Elvish but the words foreign, and then she tensed. Looking up at Allar with eyes that glinted emerald even in the near darkness, she opened her mouth as if to gasp, but then just let it hang open, shocked. After a moment, relief flashed across her face, and she grinned.</p><p></p><p><em>“Tundanesti?”</em> she asked.</p><p></p><p>Allar did not move. He breathed heavily, angrily, paralyzed with revulsion. He shoved her off of him, then shuddered.</p><p></p><p>The woman pushed herself away slowly. She glanced in the direction of the others, but Allar didn’t pull his eyes from her. She was young, her white hair hanging, currently drenched, to her shoulders. Slender and somewhat malnourished, she wore a loose violet vest of some type of leather, gray pants, dark leather boots that covered her knees, and similar long gloves that went past her elbows. She had no weapons, nothing to threaten him, and yet Allar’s fears coiled in his chest.</p><p></p><p><em>“Em seas Taranesti.”</em> Hesitant, the woman pointed to her ears, then gestured toward Allar. <em>“Al seast Tundanesti? Si alfrin ka’nofras chealis.”</em></p><p></p><p>She nervously looked to the others, and pointed at them. She said something, but Allar heard another voice.</p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>“Why are you stopping?” Telleas shouted at him. He grabbed Allar and leaned close. “They’re sealing the tunnels at sunset. You’re not injured enough for me to let you die here.”</p><p></p><p>Allar looked down at blood that wasn’t his, dripping across his chain armor. The caves were cold, lined with ice, and he fell against the wall, letting the chill burn his cheek. He held the dagger before his face, then looked beyond it, to Telleas. Everything beyond him was black.</p><p></p><p>From that blackness, he could hear them approaching, nearly silent, vengeful and terrifying.</p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>Allar could hear his friends calling his name as they splashed through the flooded cavern toward him and the Taranesti girl. The girl was crouching now, nervous, chattering at him in three different languages. Allar heard something familiar, in Kelaquois, but she had already switched to a different language by the time he was able to decipher the words from her accent.</p><p></p><p>“Do you why look scared?” she had said. Allar wasn’t sure whose Kelaquois was at fault for the odd expression, hers or his.</p><p></p><p>He realized that his right hand had been reaching to try to find his dropped scimitar, and he forced himself to stop moving. He looked back at the woman. She was smiling encouragingly. In his mind, thoughts tumbled. He had saved a dark Elf, he had once killed a dark Elf, he could not think she was with the same dark Elves, why had he saved her, what could he tell the others?</p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>The Taranesti captive fell to the snow as the Tundanesti beat him with the flats of their swords. David was glaring at him, condemning him for the satisfaction he felt. Allar looked away. </p><p></p><p>It was winter again, and hands pulled him up from the snow. There was soot and char in the air, and dark mounds in the snow. The man who held him cradled him, and Allar buried his face in the man’s chest, hearing the crunch of feet on snow and the crackle of flames on the wind.</p><p> </p><p>He pulled the dagger out, yanking to free it from the rib cage. He was far away now, dropping the blade. He was burying his face against the stone, unable to look at any of the others.</p><p></p><p>He could not understand the Taranesti words himself, but a minute later, Yiromas handed the captive over to the guards, and turned to address them, a smug smile on his face. Allar looked back, eager. They had told him he was very brave to come with them.</p><p></p><p>He was only sixteen, and the man had stopped moving. Allar looked up, past his dagger, into the blackness.</p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>Babb’s laugh broke the frantic reel in his mind.</p><p></p><p>“Ha, I bet you’re pissed, Al’. Is this a dark Elf?”</p><p></p><p>Babb was trudging through chest deep water, straining to keep his chin clear, but what amounted for a smile on his bull-like face was clear. Lacy was beside him, holding David. The three-foot tall Jispin man, ignoring his displeasure at having to be carried through the water, gasped when he saw Allar and the dark elf. “My God, Allar.”</p><p></p><p>Allar nodded, then pushed himself off his back, standing uncomfortably, wet clothes and armor pressing upon him. He was having trouble breathing, but he weakly pointed his right hand – holding his sword – in the direction of the girl.</p><p></p><p>“Watch her. Just because the monsters were trying to kill her doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous too.”</p><p></p><p>The woman fell backward off her crouch when he pointed the sword at her, and she scrambled away slightly. When she spoke, her tone was not frightened, but rather almost complimentary. <em>“Malha muc alas.”</em></p><p></p><p>“Allar,” Lacy whispered, “put the sword down. We don’t want to scare her.”</p><p></p><p>“Do you know what she’s saying?” Babb asked.</p><p></p><p>The woman slowly stood, wringing the loose edges of her vest to keep from sopping on herself. Looking around at the group of them, she nodded, and a somewhat forced smile spread on her face. <em>“Er imsi? Gee gooree ohs?”</em></p><p></p><p>Babb and Lacy gasped, and Babb smiled. “She just said ‘thanks’ in Kelaquois. And was that Goblin?”</p><p></p><p>“That was ‘thank you,’ also,” said David, who had climbed out of Lacy’s arms and was now coming up beside Allar. “Not that I know much Goblin.”</p><p></p><p>Lacy started speaking to the girl in Kelaquois, slowly enough that Allar could understand. “We won’t hurt you. Do you understand me?”</p><p></p><p>The girl nodded, then grinned and replied, still in Kelaquois. “Thank you you helped me. Um, the name . . . my it is . . . um, my name is Tri’ni?”</p><p></p><p>“I couldn’t follow that,” Babb muttered. “Lemme try some different languages.”</p><p></p><p>While Babb, Lacy, and the dark elf girl rattled off phrases in Lyceian, Elstrician, Ragesian, Goblin, Taranesti, and Geidon, which resulted in only disappointed shakings of heads, David spoke to Allar.</p><p></p><p>“She looks innocent enough,” he whispered.</p><p></p><p>“Don’t talk to me, David. For all I know, she could’ve been one of the ones who killed my family.”</p><p></p><p>“Her? She looks sixteen. Even though she’s an Elf, she’s probably not much older than you are. Allar, she could-”</p><p></p><p>“David?” Lacy called out, “do you have anything that could help here? I do, but I don’t want to try using magic on her if you can manage something that won’t hurt her.”</p><p></p><p>David shook his head, waving lightly to try to get her to give them privacy. Still talking, Allar and David moved a short distance away.</p><p></p><p>“She could be a guide,” David said.</p><p></p><p>Allar kicked at the edge of the water, then looked into the glinting darkness. “Find out who she is, then maybe. Don’t trust how she looks.”</p><p></p><p>“Alright,” David sighed. “Please, Allar, just let this be behind you.”</p><p></p><p>Allar glared down at David, then walked back to the dark Elf girl. He wanted to be angry, but he was afraid to talk. Looking at the woman he had rescued, he felt hatred, and he had to turn away, disgusted with himself.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p>Lacy sighed nervously, “This should work.”</p><p></p><p>She held a few strands of her hair in one hand, a few of the girl’s in her other. Tying the ends together, combined they were long enough to form a slender necklace, white and gold. The girl’s expression was curious and impatient. Whispering a prayer, Lacy touched both strands. The girl winced.</p><p></p><p>“Ow, was that supposed to happen?” Her accent was still present, but she spoke in Lyceian. She looked around at them, confused slightly. “That’s me talking, isn’t it?”</p><p></p><p>“Nice one, sis,” Babb said, slapping Lacy’s shoulder with a smile.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t know this language,” the girl said, plainly. “I think my head hurts.”</p><p></p><p>“Are you injured?” Lacy asked.</p><p></p><p>The girl shook her head, grinning with embarrassment. “No. I’m just thinking in a different language than what I’m saying. I’m trying to talk in Goblin now, and it’s . . . no, it’s just not working. Thank you.”</p><p></p><p>She chuckled, and Lacy and Babb laughed too.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t know why,” the dark Elf woman said, turning to look at Allar, “but I think I scared you somehow. I’m sorry.”</p><p></p><p>“I didn’t know you were a dark Elf,” Allar replied. He clenched his teeth.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, um, yes.” She paused for a moment, then said, “I haven’t heard ‘dark Elf’ in a while. That’s what Dentalles used to call us.”</p><p></p><p>Allar frowned. The name Dentalles was familiar somehow.</p><p></p><p>“My name is Tri’ni,” said Tri’ni. “Tri’ni Gren’eys. My father said ‘Gren’eys’ was the surface word for green eyes. Wait, I just said it. Oh.”</p><p></p><p>Babb looked down as he laughed, like he didn’t want to make fun of her. The young woman wasn’t fazed, though.</p><p></p><p>“What language is this?”</p><p></p><p>“Lyceian,” Lacy said. “Tri’ni, my name is Lacy Ursdail. This is my, well, my adopted brother, Babb.”</p><p></p><p>“Babb the Bold,” Babb corrected, still laughing.</p><p></p><p>“And this,” Lacy continued, “is David Waryeye. And the man who saved you is Allar.”</p><p></p><p>David cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt all this, but if the young lady would like to help us, could she tell us if there are any more of those things in here?”</p><p></p><p>Tri’ni shook her head. “I don’t think so. There’s usually this sort of . . . heaviness, in the air, when the Il’ishar are nearby. They’re related to the Trillith, though, what am I doing? Of course you wouldn’t know about that. Unless. . . .”</p><p></p><p>Babb had stopped laughing, and he asked, “No, we don’t know anything about that. To be perfectly honest, we’re pretty lost. So, you’re not evil, are you? Because Al here seems to think you’re dangerous.”</p><p></p><p>Tri’ni looked at Allar cautiously, her green eyes staring into his. He looked down for a moment, then forced himself to look back at her, but by then she had turned away.</p><p></p><p>“I am running,” Tri’ni said. “I can probably help you, if you let me. I’ve been helped by people from the surface before, so I don’t believe all the rumors about you either. </p><p></p><p>“Um, thank you for saving my life. I don’t know any of you, but thank you. Don’t worry. I’ll help you however I can. If you give me a little while, I can explain what I know, but we should get away from these caves. I know a place, . . . not far away?”</p><p></p><p>Lacy looked around. “Is anyone hurt?”</p><p></p><p>Allar saw her glance at him, and at the various cuts he had received from the strange water trolls. He shrugged. “Don’t worry about me. We should go.”</p><p></p><p>Tri’ni grinned at him, and she spun away to guide them. As the group walked, Allar felt a coldness descend upon him. He knew the rest of them, even David, were happier now, intrigued by the woman. He, though, was only reminded of guilt, from long ago. He walked, but felt the air pressing heavily down upon him, like a cold weight.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="RangerWickett, post: 1610491, member: 63"] [size=3][b]Episode Two: The Song of the Deep, Pt. II, Section I[/b][/size] The snow was jagged, burning inside his nose, scraping his hands as he tried to claw his way free. His mother hadn’t moved since she fell over him, and now he could not feel the warmth of her body through the numbness of the icy winter night. Allar whimpered, and heard nothing but wind roaring. The dark elf woman coughed, trying to breathe after nearly drowning. She said something quietly, the sounds Elvish but the words foreign, and then she tensed. Looking up at Allar with eyes that glinted emerald even in the near darkness, she opened her mouth as if to gasp, but then just let it hang open, shocked. After a moment, relief flashed across her face, and she grinned. [i]“Tundanesti?”[/i] she asked. Allar did not move. He breathed heavily, angrily, paralyzed with revulsion. He shoved her off of him, then shuddered. The woman pushed herself away slowly. She glanced in the direction of the others, but Allar didn’t pull his eyes from her. She was young, her white hair hanging, currently drenched, to her shoulders. Slender and somewhat malnourished, she wore a loose violet vest of some type of leather, gray pants, dark leather boots that covered her knees, and similar long gloves that went past her elbows. She had no weapons, nothing to threaten him, and yet Allar’s fears coiled in his chest. [i]“Em seas Taranesti.”[/i] Hesitant, the woman pointed to her ears, then gestured toward Allar. [i]“Al seast Tundanesti? Si alfrin ka’nofras chealis.”[/i] She nervously looked to the others, and pointed at them. She said something, but Allar heard another voice. “Why are you stopping?” Telleas shouted at him. He grabbed Allar and leaned close. “They’re sealing the tunnels at sunset. You’re not injured enough for me to let you die here.” Allar looked down at blood that wasn’t his, dripping across his chain armor. The caves were cold, lined with ice, and he fell against the wall, letting the chill burn his cheek. He held the dagger before his face, then looked beyond it, to Telleas. Everything beyond him was black. From that blackness, he could hear them approaching, nearly silent, vengeful and terrifying. Allar could hear his friends calling his name as they splashed through the flooded cavern toward him and the Taranesti girl. The girl was crouching now, nervous, chattering at him in three different languages. Allar heard something familiar, in Kelaquois, but she had already switched to a different language by the time he was able to decipher the words from her accent. “Do you why look scared?” she had said. Allar wasn’t sure whose Kelaquois was at fault for the odd expression, hers or his. He realized that his right hand had been reaching to try to find his dropped scimitar, and he forced himself to stop moving. He looked back at the woman. She was smiling encouragingly. In his mind, thoughts tumbled. He had saved a dark Elf, he had once killed a dark Elf, he could not think she was with the same dark Elves, why had he saved her, what could he tell the others? The Taranesti captive fell to the snow as the Tundanesti beat him with the flats of their swords. David was glaring at him, condemning him for the satisfaction he felt. Allar looked away. It was winter again, and hands pulled him up from the snow. There was soot and char in the air, and dark mounds in the snow. The man who held him cradled him, and Allar buried his face in the man’s chest, hearing the crunch of feet on snow and the crackle of flames on the wind. He pulled the dagger out, yanking to free it from the rib cage. He was far away now, dropping the blade. He was burying his face against the stone, unable to look at any of the others. He could not understand the Taranesti words himself, but a minute later, Yiromas handed the captive over to the guards, and turned to address them, a smug smile on his face. Allar looked back, eager. They had told him he was very brave to come with them. He was only sixteen, and the man had stopped moving. Allar looked up, past his dagger, into the blackness. Babb’s laugh broke the frantic reel in his mind. “Ha, I bet you’re pissed, Al’. Is this a dark Elf?” Babb was trudging through chest deep water, straining to keep his chin clear, but what amounted for a smile on his bull-like face was clear. Lacy was beside him, holding David. The three-foot tall Jispin man, ignoring his displeasure at having to be carried through the water, gasped when he saw Allar and the dark elf. “My God, Allar.” Allar nodded, then pushed himself off his back, standing uncomfortably, wet clothes and armor pressing upon him. He was having trouble breathing, but he weakly pointed his right hand – holding his sword – in the direction of the girl. “Watch her. Just because the monsters were trying to kill her doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous too.” The woman fell backward off her crouch when he pointed the sword at her, and she scrambled away slightly. When she spoke, her tone was not frightened, but rather almost complimentary. [i]“Malha muc alas.”[/i] “Allar,” Lacy whispered, “put the sword down. We don’t want to scare her.” “Do you know what she’s saying?” Babb asked. The woman slowly stood, wringing the loose edges of her vest to keep from sopping on herself. Looking around at the group of them, she nodded, and a somewhat forced smile spread on her face. [i]“Er imsi? Gee gooree ohs?”[/i] Babb and Lacy gasped, and Babb smiled. “She just said ‘thanks’ in Kelaquois. And was that Goblin?” “That was ‘thank you,’ also,” said David, who had climbed out of Lacy’s arms and was now coming up beside Allar. “Not that I know much Goblin.” Lacy started speaking to the girl in Kelaquois, slowly enough that Allar could understand. “We won’t hurt you. Do you understand me?” The girl nodded, then grinned and replied, still in Kelaquois. “Thank you you helped me. Um, the name . . . my it is . . . um, my name is Tri’ni?” “I couldn’t follow that,” Babb muttered. “Lemme try some different languages.” While Babb, Lacy, and the dark elf girl rattled off phrases in Lyceian, Elstrician, Ragesian, Goblin, Taranesti, and Geidon, which resulted in only disappointed shakings of heads, David spoke to Allar. “She looks innocent enough,” he whispered. “Don’t talk to me, David. For all I know, she could’ve been one of the ones who killed my family.” “Her? She looks sixteen. Even though she’s an Elf, she’s probably not much older than you are. Allar, she could-” “David?” Lacy called out, “do you have anything that could help here? I do, but I don’t want to try using magic on her if you can manage something that won’t hurt her.” David shook his head, waving lightly to try to get her to give them privacy. Still talking, Allar and David moved a short distance away. “She could be a guide,” David said. Allar kicked at the edge of the water, then looked into the glinting darkness. “Find out who she is, then maybe. Don’t trust how she looks.” “Alright,” David sighed. “Please, Allar, just let this be behind you.” Allar glared down at David, then walked back to the dark Elf girl. He wanted to be angry, but he was afraid to talk. Looking at the woman he had rescued, he felt hatred, and he had to turn away, disgusted with himself. [center]* * *[/center] Lacy sighed nervously, “This should work.” She held a few strands of her hair in one hand, a few of the girl’s in her other. Tying the ends together, combined they were long enough to form a slender necklace, white and gold. The girl’s expression was curious and impatient. Whispering a prayer, Lacy touched both strands. The girl winced. “Ow, was that supposed to happen?” Her accent was still present, but she spoke in Lyceian. She looked around at them, confused slightly. “That’s me talking, isn’t it?” “Nice one, sis,” Babb said, slapping Lacy’s shoulder with a smile. “I don’t know this language,” the girl said, plainly. “I think my head hurts.” “Are you injured?” Lacy asked. The girl shook her head, grinning with embarrassment. “No. I’m just thinking in a different language than what I’m saying. I’m trying to talk in Goblin now, and it’s . . . no, it’s just not working. Thank you.” She chuckled, and Lacy and Babb laughed too. “I don’t know why,” the dark Elf woman said, turning to look at Allar, “but I think I scared you somehow. I’m sorry.” “I didn’t know you were a dark Elf,” Allar replied. He clenched his teeth. “Oh, um, yes.” She paused for a moment, then said, “I haven’t heard ‘dark Elf’ in a while. That’s what Dentalles used to call us.” Allar frowned. The name Dentalles was familiar somehow. “My name is Tri’ni,” said Tri’ni. “Tri’ni Gren’eys. My father said ‘Gren’eys’ was the surface word for green eyes. Wait, I just said it. Oh.” Babb looked down as he laughed, like he didn’t want to make fun of her. The young woman wasn’t fazed, though. “What language is this?” “Lyceian,” Lacy said. “Tri’ni, my name is Lacy Ursdail. This is my, well, my adopted brother, Babb.” “Babb the Bold,” Babb corrected, still laughing. “And this,” Lacy continued, “is David Waryeye. And the man who saved you is Allar.” David cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt all this, but if the young lady would like to help us, could she tell us if there are any more of those things in here?” Tri’ni shook her head. “I don’t think so. There’s usually this sort of . . . heaviness, in the air, when the Il’ishar are nearby. They’re related to the Trillith, though, what am I doing? Of course you wouldn’t know about that. Unless. . . .” Babb had stopped laughing, and he asked, “No, we don’t know anything about that. To be perfectly honest, we’re pretty lost. So, you’re not evil, are you? Because Al here seems to think you’re dangerous.” Tri’ni looked at Allar cautiously, her green eyes staring into his. He looked down for a moment, then forced himself to look back at her, but by then she had turned away. “I am running,” Tri’ni said. “I can probably help you, if you let me. I’ve been helped by people from the surface before, so I don’t believe all the rumors about you either. “Um, thank you for saving my life. I don’t know any of you, but thank you. Don’t worry. I’ll help you however I can. If you give me a little while, I can explain what I know, but we should get away from these caves. I know a place, . . . not far away?” Lacy looked around. “Is anyone hurt?” Allar saw her glance at him, and at the various cuts he had received from the strange water trolls. He shrugged. “Don’t worry about me. We should go.” Tri’ni grinned at him, and she spun away to guide them. As the group walked, Allar felt a coldness descend upon him. He knew the rest of them, even David, were happier now, intrigued by the woman. He, though, was only reminded of guilt, from long ago. He walked, but felt the air pressing heavily down upon him, like a cold weight. [/QUOTE]
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