MarauderX
Explorer
1
Picturing her in his mind again, Vance started to fast forward through his memories to the beginning of yesterday. In a moment the elf saw his life’s memories flitter by. Not dwelling on any single feeling, he couldn’t help but judge his life as hollow thus far, traveling from place to place out of a self-driven necessity. His mind raced nearly to the end, and there he recalled the man’s name he was looking for: Martee.
“Martee,” Vance said sternly, “why are you giving me less than I asked for?”
“Eh, well, you didn’t seem that interested, really, so I didn’t make as much I thought you’d need. Didn’t think it was special is all. You were pretty distracted as I recall,” said Martee, “You alright?”
“Yes, why?” said Vance, though he knew that he was drifting back to the memory of her, to the bookmark in his encyclopedic mind where Vance had witnessed the most beautiful event of his long life.
Martee gathered the bread he had been making for the past two days into sacks, and Vance motioned to follow him to a horse outside. Vance strapped the bags to the horse as best he could before opening his purse. The bulky bags were filled with round loaves of bread, enough to keep the baker busy for the last two days doing little else.
Vance turned to see the two Halfling children that had followed him through the town on his visit playing with a small sack of their own, their little hands darting in and out like hummingbirds as they filled it with rocks.
“Let me know when you’ll be back in town and I’ll prep some good meats for you too,” said Martee as he counted the few silver pieces in his palm. “Hey, you at least owe me more than this,” said Martee, “you got more on your horse than three bloody silver! At least give me my work back if you don’t have the money.”
“It’s less than I asked for, I thought you might like less than you asked for too. I will see you again Martee, and I will ask for more bread,” Vance said as he swung into the saddle, “perhaps next time you will believe me and work through the night to deliver what I ask.”
“But you couldn’t take it with you if I did! You make no sense, there’s no way you and your entire clan could eat that much, you crazy elf! Sure I’ll make it next time, but I’ll not be buying it back stale, or lending you another horse to take with you!” said Martee.
“Thank you,” said the elf before riding off.
Trying to drag the bag with them, the Halfling children started to unload the overweight bag to follow Vance, again the hummingbirds zipped to undo their work. Waving Vance bid them farewell as he left the town.
Traveling for an hour to the east, Vance spotted the silhouettes of his friends as they stood waiting for him at the top of the next rolling hill. Riding up the gentle grade they greeted him before the sun set below the horizon.
“Did you get enough?” asked Amena, as she steadied a sack on the back of her saddle.
“Maybe, though you know it’s just a temporary solution,” Vance replied.
“Let’s get going then,” said Argus, “Griver and Lalyer have been waiting with them long enough.”
The three of them traveled an hour to the east before turning northeast towards the edge of the forest. They could barely make out the trees in the fading light, and before long they were guiding their horses next to the tree line as best they could as they moved east. The night began with the sounds of insects between methodic hoof beats and passed to that of chirping from the first morning birds. Groggily Amena squelched her yawn as she saw the morning dew split asunder by the rays of sun behind her.
“Another hour, about,” said Lalyer squinting as he looked behind to check on the others. His mount had set the pace for the others, and though they all had a load to carry, they looked as tired as their mounts, hanging their heads lower.
They turned from the tree line into the woods and saw their destination soon after – an open grove where apple trees were once cared for but were now in shambles with weeds, ivy and other seedling trees sprouting up to battle for sunlight.
Griver saw them first and sauntered his way to them, grabbing the first sack of bread from Argus’s stead.
“This don look like enough,” Griver said, his face forming into stony doubt as he looked at Vance.
“Don’t delay, bring it already,” Lalyer was heard to say.
Trotting beyond the grove, Lalyer called out in their tongue that more food had arrived. Small round faces emerged from the surrounding huts to see that indeed food had arrived, and soon the laden horses were surrounded with wire-thin Halflings. Their sunken eyes watched and spindly arms stretched up to them as they passed out bread, dried meat, and fresh fruit before running off. Before long the small crowd had been satiated, and the group gathered the mostly empty bags into a pile around the meeting tree.
“I hope they enjoy it, looks like it won’t last long,” said Argus.
“We aren’t going to do the same thing every day are we?” asked Griver.
“No, this isn’t going to work,” said Lalyer, “Where did they all go?”
Pointing Amena said “looks like towards the top of the hill.”
“You mean where they had been taking those rocks and flowers and such?” said Argus.
“We best see why,” said Lalyer, “I have a hunch that they didn’t go there just to dine together.”
The group trekked up the slope to the top of the hill where they could see the Halflings had all gathered. Lalyer gathered up one of the Halflings that was too weak to make it up the hill and carried him. In whispers the Halflings were making devotions to a goddess they had seen at the top of the hill. Carved rocks, wooden totems and flowers in all manner of decay were strewn about the hilltop, and gathered in a circle about the very top were the Halflings. In the middle of the circle the group saw most of the food they had brought.
“Now what,” huffed Amena.
Griver rustled his beard as his face slowly to reflect his emotion of confusion and frustration.
“Let’s wait to see if they eat it, if not now sometime later,” said Lalyer.
Vance struggled to keep his eyes from shutting in the soft warmth of the midmorning sun. They had left the horses in the empty shanty town at the bottom of the hill after pushing them all night long. It was agreed that they would wait and rest.
Vance slept and dreamt of her again. His memory, like that of all elves, was perfect; he recalled how she moved, smelled, and the slight golden sheen that danced on her flawless skin. The image replayed for him, and he groped into the air and cursed himself for what came next, as the memory of parting her tore at his senses and judgment. It was to Vance the hardest thing he had ever done in his long memory. He recalled time starting from that moment and it was a bookmark upon which events either started before or after, and his mind would scan either forward or backward. Though it was the pinnacle in his life, the nymph threatened to be a distraction too burdensome to overcome. More than anything he feared her; not just the memory of her, but if he ever met her again he feared that he might succumb to her again, and the aftermath would be unbearable.
Vance pieced his memories back into place as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. Griver was there, watching him with indifference.
“Did they eat?” asked Vance.
“No, and I don think they are going to neither,” said Griver as he sifted through his backpack.
“I wonder why that is,” said Vance.
“Is that a rhetorical question? Do you really wonder, or are you asking out loud as a way to make it better on yourself?” said Griver.
This wasn’t the first time there was tension between Vance and the dwarf. Vance knew enough not to answer as he studied Griver’s visage intently. Still Vance couldn’t distinguish the subtle facial signs that all dwarves shared and seemed to expect from other races. The first time Vance had met Griver he thought the dwarf rude. He only later found out that the dwarf thought the same, as Griver had answered the elf’s questions with facial indicators instead of a verbal reply. Knowing that dwarves used such communication couldn’t help him understand it now. Vance looked away.
Vance had awoken in time to see the sun setting once again, as he had slept nearly the entire day. Argus and Amena had woken and were preparing a stew with some of the food they had brought for the frail Halflings.
“I don’t understand it, they should want to eat,” said Lalyer.
“Did you speak with the magi, you know, the mayor?” inquired Argus.
“I did, and that may be where the problem lies,” said Lalyer. “He was only the head priest before their ‘mayor’ died, and once that happened it seems he was promoted. Ever since then he has been urging them to fast until their goddess comes to ‘take them all to her bosom’ and ‘begin a new day of plenty,’ whenever that may be.”
“Does that mean he is going to starve everyone to death?” asked Amena.
“Yeah, I think he’s prepared to do that and more,” replied Lalyer, “before we got here they murdered several ‘doubters’ who had snuck off to forage. And he’s none too happy about us tempting ‘those with no discipline.’”
“Well, someone has to ask,” said Argus “Can we get their help before the goddess comes?”
“Yes,” said Lalyer, "he promised us earlier, and I will remind him of that promise soon."
Picturing her in his mind again, Vance started to fast forward through his memories to the beginning of yesterday. In a moment the elf saw his life’s memories flitter by. Not dwelling on any single feeling, he couldn’t help but judge his life as hollow thus far, traveling from place to place out of a self-driven necessity. His mind raced nearly to the end, and there he recalled the man’s name he was looking for: Martee.
“Martee,” Vance said sternly, “why are you giving me less than I asked for?”
“Eh, well, you didn’t seem that interested, really, so I didn’t make as much I thought you’d need. Didn’t think it was special is all. You were pretty distracted as I recall,” said Martee, “You alright?”
“Yes, why?” said Vance, though he knew that he was drifting back to the memory of her, to the bookmark in his encyclopedic mind where Vance had witnessed the most beautiful event of his long life.
Martee gathered the bread he had been making for the past two days into sacks, and Vance motioned to follow him to a horse outside. Vance strapped the bags to the horse as best he could before opening his purse. The bulky bags were filled with round loaves of bread, enough to keep the baker busy for the last two days doing little else.
Vance turned to see the two Halfling children that had followed him through the town on his visit playing with a small sack of their own, their little hands darting in and out like hummingbirds as they filled it with rocks.
“Let me know when you’ll be back in town and I’ll prep some good meats for you too,” said Martee as he counted the few silver pieces in his palm. “Hey, you at least owe me more than this,” said Martee, “you got more on your horse than three bloody silver! At least give me my work back if you don’t have the money.”
“It’s less than I asked for, I thought you might like less than you asked for too. I will see you again Martee, and I will ask for more bread,” Vance said as he swung into the saddle, “perhaps next time you will believe me and work through the night to deliver what I ask.”
“But you couldn’t take it with you if I did! You make no sense, there’s no way you and your entire clan could eat that much, you crazy elf! Sure I’ll make it next time, but I’ll not be buying it back stale, or lending you another horse to take with you!” said Martee.
“Thank you,” said the elf before riding off.
Trying to drag the bag with them, the Halfling children started to unload the overweight bag to follow Vance, again the hummingbirds zipped to undo their work. Waving Vance bid them farewell as he left the town.
Traveling for an hour to the east, Vance spotted the silhouettes of his friends as they stood waiting for him at the top of the next rolling hill. Riding up the gentle grade they greeted him before the sun set below the horizon.
“Did you get enough?” asked Amena, as she steadied a sack on the back of her saddle.
“Maybe, though you know it’s just a temporary solution,” Vance replied.
“Let’s get going then,” said Argus, “Griver and Lalyer have been waiting with them long enough.”
The three of them traveled an hour to the east before turning northeast towards the edge of the forest. They could barely make out the trees in the fading light, and before long they were guiding their horses next to the tree line as best they could as they moved east. The night began with the sounds of insects between methodic hoof beats and passed to that of chirping from the first morning birds. Groggily Amena squelched her yawn as she saw the morning dew split asunder by the rays of sun behind her.
“Another hour, about,” said Lalyer squinting as he looked behind to check on the others. His mount had set the pace for the others, and though they all had a load to carry, they looked as tired as their mounts, hanging their heads lower.
They turned from the tree line into the woods and saw their destination soon after – an open grove where apple trees were once cared for but were now in shambles with weeds, ivy and other seedling trees sprouting up to battle for sunlight.
Griver saw them first and sauntered his way to them, grabbing the first sack of bread from Argus’s stead.
“This don look like enough,” Griver said, his face forming into stony doubt as he looked at Vance.
“Don’t delay, bring it already,” Lalyer was heard to say.
Trotting beyond the grove, Lalyer called out in their tongue that more food had arrived. Small round faces emerged from the surrounding huts to see that indeed food had arrived, and soon the laden horses were surrounded with wire-thin Halflings. Their sunken eyes watched and spindly arms stretched up to them as they passed out bread, dried meat, and fresh fruit before running off. Before long the small crowd had been satiated, and the group gathered the mostly empty bags into a pile around the meeting tree.
“I hope they enjoy it, looks like it won’t last long,” said Argus.
“We aren’t going to do the same thing every day are we?” asked Griver.
“No, this isn’t going to work,” said Lalyer, “Where did they all go?”
Pointing Amena said “looks like towards the top of the hill.”
“You mean where they had been taking those rocks and flowers and such?” said Argus.
“We best see why,” said Lalyer, “I have a hunch that they didn’t go there just to dine together.”
The group trekked up the slope to the top of the hill where they could see the Halflings had all gathered. Lalyer gathered up one of the Halflings that was too weak to make it up the hill and carried him. In whispers the Halflings were making devotions to a goddess they had seen at the top of the hill. Carved rocks, wooden totems and flowers in all manner of decay were strewn about the hilltop, and gathered in a circle about the very top were the Halflings. In the middle of the circle the group saw most of the food they had brought.
“Now what,” huffed Amena.
Griver rustled his beard as his face slowly to reflect his emotion of confusion and frustration.
“Let’s wait to see if they eat it, if not now sometime later,” said Lalyer.
Vance struggled to keep his eyes from shutting in the soft warmth of the midmorning sun. They had left the horses in the empty shanty town at the bottom of the hill after pushing them all night long. It was agreed that they would wait and rest.
Vance slept and dreamt of her again. His memory, like that of all elves, was perfect; he recalled how she moved, smelled, and the slight golden sheen that danced on her flawless skin. The image replayed for him, and he groped into the air and cursed himself for what came next, as the memory of parting her tore at his senses and judgment. It was to Vance the hardest thing he had ever done in his long memory. He recalled time starting from that moment and it was a bookmark upon which events either started before or after, and his mind would scan either forward or backward. Though it was the pinnacle in his life, the nymph threatened to be a distraction too burdensome to overcome. More than anything he feared her; not just the memory of her, but if he ever met her again he feared that he might succumb to her again, and the aftermath would be unbearable.
Vance pieced his memories back into place as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. Griver was there, watching him with indifference.
“Did they eat?” asked Vance.
“No, and I don think they are going to neither,” said Griver as he sifted through his backpack.
“I wonder why that is,” said Vance.
“Is that a rhetorical question? Do you really wonder, or are you asking out loud as a way to make it better on yourself?” said Griver.
This wasn’t the first time there was tension between Vance and the dwarf. Vance knew enough not to answer as he studied Griver’s visage intently. Still Vance couldn’t distinguish the subtle facial signs that all dwarves shared and seemed to expect from other races. The first time Vance had met Griver he thought the dwarf rude. He only later found out that the dwarf thought the same, as Griver had answered the elf’s questions with facial indicators instead of a verbal reply. Knowing that dwarves used such communication couldn’t help him understand it now. Vance looked away.
Vance had awoken in time to see the sun setting once again, as he had slept nearly the entire day. Argus and Amena had woken and were preparing a stew with some of the food they had brought for the frail Halflings.
“I don’t understand it, they should want to eat,” said Lalyer.
“Did you speak with the magi, you know, the mayor?” inquired Argus.
“I did, and that may be where the problem lies,” said Lalyer. “He was only the head priest before their ‘mayor’ died, and once that happened it seems he was promoted. Ever since then he has been urging them to fast until their goddess comes to ‘take them all to her bosom’ and ‘begin a new day of plenty,’ whenever that may be.”
“Does that mean he is going to starve everyone to death?” asked Amena.
“Yeah, I think he’s prepared to do that and more,” replied Lalyer, “before we got here they murdered several ‘doubters’ who had snuck off to forage. And he’s none too happy about us tempting ‘those with no discipline.’”
“Well, someone has to ask,” said Argus “Can we get their help before the goddess comes?”
“Yes,” said Lalyer, "he promised us earlier, and I will remind him of that promise soon."
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