Wicht
Hero
Prologue
1.
The village of Oakheart, situated as it was in the northern spur of the great elven forest of Lendelwood, was of course, primarily inhabited by elves. Like many elven communities, it was a place simultaneously filled with rustic charm and steeped in erudite learning. The rustic charm was largely due to the fact that many of it’s inhabitants, actually most of them, were wood-elves, rustics by nature, in love with the great outdoors and almost everything in it. The learning and knowledge came primarily in the form of one Tamilthim Redimolvan, a noted wizard-historian and the proprietor of a combination library-museum. This museum was mildly famous and it often attracted elvish scholars from Lathlanian, Cosdol, and other distant parts. It was not unheard of for visitors from even as far away as the Edosi Forest to make the trek across the continent to study upon some text or artifact residing within the halls of Tamilthim’s Collection. In addition to these prestigious scholars, young elves were frequently sent to study at the feet of the great enchanter and any given decade it was a sure bet that one could find several new wizards being trained in Oakheart.
The name Oakheart (rendered as it is in the Merchant Tongue) came from the vast Oak-tree which was centered in a glade in the middle of the wooded village. The Oak, as it was referred to, was actually a dryad-oak and the Dryad, a Druid in the service of Valanna, the Bear, served as a combination judge and spiritual leader. In addition to the frequent veneration given to the Bear, the elves of Oakheart, who were devout, also worshiped the Great Huntress, Albabrilia, and The Eternal Bard, Banadar.
South of The Oak, in a copse of small trees was the market, a collection of small tents and booths at which foresters could sell and trade those things they needed or had acquired. Here also, merchants bound for Lathlanian collected goods for sell in the larger city. North of The Oak were the more permanent businesses. Dustanar Elmleaf operated a strange place from which he sold both bows and handcarved furniture. Just north-east from him and almost directly north of The Oak was Mardigum Hadrak’s forge. The forge had the dubious distinction of being the only building in town not surrounded by trees and it’s proprietor had the dubious distinction of being the only dwarf in the village. Mardigum had traveled west from the mountains and upon noticing that Oakheart lacked a smith, had set up shop. The elves tolerated his dwarfish attitudes and recognized that he did quality work, which was all they asked for. West of Hadrak’s forge was The Common Store, which carried things not frequently found in the market and which was also opened during the winter months. Just West of the Common Store was an Inn, the name of which, when translated into the Merchant tongue, was “The Thirsty Stag.” West of The Stag was The Museum. The actual name for The Museum was Redimolvan’s Collection of Antiquities, Curiosities and Scholarly Texts (literally Dinamorila Donimalria ji Feinlalaritomallio Ujikamallara Do’Redimolvan) but everybody, including Redimolvan, simply referred to it as The Museum (U’Kamallara). A stone path led north from The Museum, up a small hill and all the way to Tamilthim Redimolvan’s front door.
Redimolvan lived in a striking tower of natural symmetry. The actual Tower, whose top was higher than the many surrounding trees, was not a solitary structure but instead arose out of a one-story set of apartments and rooms. When he was not puttering around in The Museum or teaching students on the lawn outside the tower, Redimolvan could normally be found high in his tower, researching. Which, in point of fact, is where he was when our story opens.
Why, you ask, was that where he was? Because a story has to start someplace and ours has chosen to begin itself at a time when Redimolvan was researching a particularly frustrating spell problem in the laboratory atop his tower.
Redimolvan was normally a pleasant elf of advancing years. But his on this particular morning his temper had partially got the better of him. Thirteen batches of spell ingredients in a row had failed to produce a desired effect. What he needed was honey.
“I need Honey!” shouted Tamilthim at his two apprentices. His voice, normally a pleasant and melodious thing, albeit slightly scratchy with age, was wheezy with frustration. “GIANT BEE HONEY! to be precise,” he said, trying to get a grip on his frustration, “And I want you two to go get it for me.” (actually he was speaking in the High Elven language but it would be tedious to transcribe and then translate it verbatim so we will assume you understand he is not actually speaking the Merchant tongue)
“Us?!” said Bare in surprise, “Why Us?”
It might do to pause a moment and examine the two objects upon whom the ancient wizard was venting his frustration. Bare Wancalein was a wiry elf with unruly jet black hair and bright green eyes. At the tender but almost mature age of one hundred thirty six, he was likely never to grow much taller than four foot eight inches, but there was a surliness to his character that lent him a certain weight and presence. Despite his slightly off-setting manner, Bare was a pleasant enough young lad who besides having a fascination with magic, was also, like his wood-elf neighbors, a sylvian native.
His companion in both mischief and scholarly pursuits, Hullifan Tarrinall, had both four years and four inches on Bare. Hullifan was a slightly more amiable character than Bare. He was also far less at home in the wild, preferring the comforts of his native City Lathlanian. Despite this and other differences, the two students got on well together and had several common interest, archery and magic among them.
Enough about them for now, let us return to the ensuing dialogue.
“Because,” snapped Redimolvan irritably, “You two are my students and you are going to do as I say. I need the honey of a Giant bee in order for me to complete my research and you two are not going to get a moment’s rest until I get it!”
“Where do we find Giant Bee Honey?” asked Hullifan.
“In the woods. I am sure there are some giant bees out there someplace.”
“And how do we find these giant bees?” asked Bare.
“I don’t know! You are the one who’s always talking about tracking and hunting and the trees. Track them down!” The old wizard paused and once more tried to calm his nerves. He continued more serenely, “Try asking at The Stag. Likely one of the hunters drinking in there might know where you can find some.”
“Here,” said Redimolvan shoving a large glass jar at them, “Now get out of here and don’t come back until it’s full. And no ordinary honey either – don’t think I won’t know the difference.”
With a sigh the two young elves allowed themselves to be shooed from the study and trudged to their rooms to start gathering some things for their journey.
1.
The village of Oakheart, situated as it was in the northern spur of the great elven forest of Lendelwood, was of course, primarily inhabited by elves. Like many elven communities, it was a place simultaneously filled with rustic charm and steeped in erudite learning. The rustic charm was largely due to the fact that many of it’s inhabitants, actually most of them, were wood-elves, rustics by nature, in love with the great outdoors and almost everything in it. The learning and knowledge came primarily in the form of one Tamilthim Redimolvan, a noted wizard-historian and the proprietor of a combination library-museum. This museum was mildly famous and it often attracted elvish scholars from Lathlanian, Cosdol, and other distant parts. It was not unheard of for visitors from even as far away as the Edosi Forest to make the trek across the continent to study upon some text or artifact residing within the halls of Tamilthim’s Collection. In addition to these prestigious scholars, young elves were frequently sent to study at the feet of the great enchanter and any given decade it was a sure bet that one could find several new wizards being trained in Oakheart.
The name Oakheart (rendered as it is in the Merchant Tongue) came from the vast Oak-tree which was centered in a glade in the middle of the wooded village. The Oak, as it was referred to, was actually a dryad-oak and the Dryad, a Druid in the service of Valanna, the Bear, served as a combination judge and spiritual leader. In addition to the frequent veneration given to the Bear, the elves of Oakheart, who were devout, also worshiped the Great Huntress, Albabrilia, and The Eternal Bard, Banadar.
South of The Oak, in a copse of small trees was the market, a collection of small tents and booths at which foresters could sell and trade those things they needed or had acquired. Here also, merchants bound for Lathlanian collected goods for sell in the larger city. North of The Oak were the more permanent businesses. Dustanar Elmleaf operated a strange place from which he sold both bows and handcarved furniture. Just north-east from him and almost directly north of The Oak was Mardigum Hadrak’s forge. The forge had the dubious distinction of being the only building in town not surrounded by trees and it’s proprietor had the dubious distinction of being the only dwarf in the village. Mardigum had traveled west from the mountains and upon noticing that Oakheart lacked a smith, had set up shop. The elves tolerated his dwarfish attitudes and recognized that he did quality work, which was all they asked for. West of Hadrak’s forge was The Common Store, which carried things not frequently found in the market and which was also opened during the winter months. Just West of the Common Store was an Inn, the name of which, when translated into the Merchant tongue, was “The Thirsty Stag.” West of The Stag was The Museum. The actual name for The Museum was Redimolvan’s Collection of Antiquities, Curiosities and Scholarly Texts (literally Dinamorila Donimalria ji Feinlalaritomallio Ujikamallara Do’Redimolvan) but everybody, including Redimolvan, simply referred to it as The Museum (U’Kamallara). A stone path led north from The Museum, up a small hill and all the way to Tamilthim Redimolvan’s front door.
Redimolvan lived in a striking tower of natural symmetry. The actual Tower, whose top was higher than the many surrounding trees, was not a solitary structure but instead arose out of a one-story set of apartments and rooms. When he was not puttering around in The Museum or teaching students on the lawn outside the tower, Redimolvan could normally be found high in his tower, researching. Which, in point of fact, is where he was when our story opens.
Why, you ask, was that where he was? Because a story has to start someplace and ours has chosen to begin itself at a time when Redimolvan was researching a particularly frustrating spell problem in the laboratory atop his tower.
Redimolvan was normally a pleasant elf of advancing years. But his on this particular morning his temper had partially got the better of him. Thirteen batches of spell ingredients in a row had failed to produce a desired effect. What he needed was honey.
“I need Honey!” shouted Tamilthim at his two apprentices. His voice, normally a pleasant and melodious thing, albeit slightly scratchy with age, was wheezy with frustration. “GIANT BEE HONEY! to be precise,” he said, trying to get a grip on his frustration, “And I want you two to go get it for me.” (actually he was speaking in the High Elven language but it would be tedious to transcribe and then translate it verbatim so we will assume you understand he is not actually speaking the Merchant tongue)
“Us?!” said Bare in surprise, “Why Us?”
It might do to pause a moment and examine the two objects upon whom the ancient wizard was venting his frustration. Bare Wancalein was a wiry elf with unruly jet black hair and bright green eyes. At the tender but almost mature age of one hundred thirty six, he was likely never to grow much taller than four foot eight inches, but there was a surliness to his character that lent him a certain weight and presence. Despite his slightly off-setting manner, Bare was a pleasant enough young lad who besides having a fascination with magic, was also, like his wood-elf neighbors, a sylvian native.
His companion in both mischief and scholarly pursuits, Hullifan Tarrinall, had both four years and four inches on Bare. Hullifan was a slightly more amiable character than Bare. He was also far less at home in the wild, preferring the comforts of his native City Lathlanian. Despite this and other differences, the two students got on well together and had several common interest, archery and magic among them.
Enough about them for now, let us return to the ensuing dialogue.
“Because,” snapped Redimolvan irritably, “You two are my students and you are going to do as I say. I need the honey of a Giant bee in order for me to complete my research and you two are not going to get a moment’s rest until I get it!”
“Where do we find Giant Bee Honey?” asked Hullifan.
“In the woods. I am sure there are some giant bees out there someplace.”
“And how do we find these giant bees?” asked Bare.
“I don’t know! You are the one who’s always talking about tracking and hunting and the trees. Track them down!” The old wizard paused and once more tried to calm his nerves. He continued more serenely, “Try asking at The Stag. Likely one of the hunters drinking in there might know where you can find some.”
“Here,” said Redimolvan shoving a large glass jar at them, “Now get out of here and don’t come back until it’s full. And no ordinary honey either – don’t think I won’t know the difference.”
With a sigh the two young elves allowed themselves to be shooed from the study and trudged to their rooms to start gathering some things for their journey.
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