Dacia's story

Moderators: Forum Moderators, Active DMs

Post Reply
xorbaxian
Posts: 40
Joined: Sun Jun 12, 2022 1:37 pm

Dacia's story

Post by xorbaxian » Thu Jun 16, 2022 12:01 am

It was our poor luck to choose a part of the Arelith entirely too close to the old ruins those many years ago. My grandmother -- may the ground guard her spirit -- told me as much ; she warned them, all those self-important old men! She held them to ware the foul relics of the past and the gloomy portents of that place. But they didn't listen... they pshawed her words and brushed her aside ; what did it matter if the ruins of the old stonehold were there, it was almost a day's journey away, and the forest here was bounteous and thick with life, said they ; here was game aplenty, and water, and fruits, and it was so beautiful your eyes ached with it! Well, they weren't wrong, to be sure. But neither was she.

There's some as say my reason 'at failed me, to claim such as the dark powers in the ruins caused what came about. After all, we'd lived in those forests for nigh on two generations already, and in peace! How could it be, then, that spirits came from the ruins and hunted us after so long? In answer, I can't honestly say, to be sure ; but I've a mind as to why: spirits can wait -- an eternity if needs be. Or maybe there was something else -- or someone else -- as 'at stirred 'em up.

It was just before dawn they came (they can't move in the day, as I later kenned), all of 'em, huge waves of slavering, mindless folk as 'd be alive -- but they weren't! Dead they were, but moving like ; abominations to life and all that lives. Our men-at-arms were feckless ; how could they not be, faced with such an onslaught as'd make ye think the end were nigh? But nonetheless, all of us fought ; and one by one, all of us fell. I, as well, found myself mastered, driven farther and farther from home and hearth, and deeper into the forest.

Through wile or weal I lost the few of the hellish things that stayed on me, so far into the forest I'd gone. I almost hoped I'd lose my own way too, the better to be certain I was safe from harm. But of course that'd be nonsense, and so I hoped that none followed me, thinking as maybe they'd know the forest too, like we did. Also nonsense -- as I know now, but didn't then. So I waited. A day went by, and another, and soon it was a week, before I felt up to going back. And when I did, it was gone : all the village, and all the people in it, and what was left... was nightmares. I searched about, quiet as I could, looking for survivors. I was overjoyed when I spied the broad back of me dad, hunkered down over a pile of dark heaps of something I couldn't quite make out. I crept up silent as I could, keeping well clear of the beasties about us. I watched me dad, watched 'im as 'is head turned toward me -- all the way 'round! 'N there, where 'is eyes were, was just… nothing. Holes. Black and empty. And instead of the smile and the greeting I'd so longed to hear, when his -- that's to say, its -- mouth opened, all that came out was a guttural hiss.

And so I hid myself again, but this time I stayed close in, and I watched. I counted their ways and held hard on their habits -- if such as they can be said to have 'habits'. And in my watching, I learnt what makes 'em foul, and how to undo 'em. I learnt which need clubs and which can be dropped with a bow ; which can need magic, and which do not. I hunted, restless, for months on end. And I killed -- or rather took from them whatever dark and insidious thing it was that shamed life so. Even the wispy ones, the ones without flesh, I took them too.

But the more I hunted, the more there were! It was as though the way of the world held no sway with them, and I grew ever more dour and ever more desperate. And then... as quickly as they'd come, they disappeared, to gods know where. Perhaps they returned to the ruins. Perhaps they're there even now. Or perhaps not. I don't know the sooth of it, to be fair -- but I will. And I'll know yet more, as well.

Now, I don't believe in gods, as some do. Didn't much before, and sure as the sky is wide I don't now. Prayin' don't come to nothing, for prayin's about as useful as stilts on a pikefish. So if the gods do exist, the only thing I'll be prayin' for is that they stay out of my way. For come what may, I'll be goin' after those as have taken my kin, my home... my life. I'll find a way to hunt them all, without fail. I'll find a way -- or invent one! And then I'll be findin' them -- and I will rid the land of their awful presence! This I, Dacia of the Brightmist, do so avow!

xorbaxian
Posts: 40
Joined: Sun Jun 12, 2022 1:37 pm

Re: Dacia's story

Post by xorbaxian » Fri Jul 01, 2022 5:28 pm

A month had gone by since the coming of the dead, as she now referred to the massacre euphemistically. It was easier for her to think of the complete and utter slaughter of her kin obliquely that way, and thus attempt to evade the terror and the grief which bound her heart. For to look directly at it, the horror of that night and the terrible loss it entailed, would be tantamount to throwing herself headlong into an infinite lifeless void, black with despair.

The solitude of her days was broken up somewhat by the tumult of questions ceaselessly roiling through her mind. How would she enlist the help she needed? For she had come to the conclusion that the task she wished to accomplish was insurmountable without the aid of others. Perhaps most importantly, where would she find the people she needed? Perhaps they wouldn't even listen to her ; after all, she wasn't a strong warrior, distinguished in battle, or exemplary as a strategist. Would there even be interest? Would they even believe her, that the dead could walk?! The barrage of doubt and unceasing questions began to irritate her, gnawing at her, grinding away at her will, until she set her jaw firmly in defiance against them, renewing her vow once again to destroy the blight the walking dead represented, regardless of who might stand against her, god or man.

And as she wandered metaphorically from question to question, avoiding and ignoring the yawning chasm in her heart, so too she wandered physically, now here, now there, a speck of seed on the blowing wind, searching endlessly, finding nothing. She crossed innumerable expanses of wildwood, passing through one stretch of colourless forest to another, the days stretching out behind her, blending one into another and each on to the next, like the flecks of sunlight that fell interminably in mottled blotches across the forest floor.

'Hm. I don't think I've ever seen sunlight like this before,' she pondered. Indeed, it wasn't at all bright like the light she was used to, but rather a sort of darkling shade of brown, almost timid, and forlorn. 'Even the sunlight is afraid,' she mused.

It so happened late one morning that she chanced upon some tracks, apparently humanoid, made within the previous week -- the first she'd encountered since she'd set out. 'Curious. There was someone here,' she thought, bending down to examine them. 'And yet this area should know no living soul apart from the animals. I wonder who...' With a start, she realised who the tracks belonged to: they were hers. 'Well. I guess I've already been here then,' she announced to no one in particular, and sighed. 'You're right, of course, Syin ; "There goeth Dacia, the master tracker!" '. She pursed her lips for a moment in silence, remembering her best friend and the acid retorts she would hear never again.

It was close to midday, and a reasonable time for a rest, so she settled herself into the nook of a large beech. She placed her back against the tree and her hands across her crossed legs, assuming once again a posture she'd figured out through trial and error could eventually help her to 'rest her mind'. This was a sort of 'trick' she had learnt as a small child, surprising the elders of her village with her skill. She had figured out that she could quiet her breathing and calm her heart, could still her mind, by closing her eyes and paying attention to one simple thing. Often that simple thing was her own breathing, which made it easy for her to 'disappear inside', as she'd called her exercise when first questioned by her grandmother. The latter had looked at her grandchild with shock and amazement when she heard the explanation, then eventually smiled when she realised what it was the young girl meant.

'She's wise beyond her years, I tell ye!' she related to her son, Dacia's father, later that day.

'Well... that may be... and then again, it may not be. But one thing's for certain, wisdom in a child won't help her to hunt! That girl's spending too much time talking to flowers and playing with bugs! She should be out 'n' about, learning the ways o' the wilds.'

'Oh, never you worry, boy. She is!' replied the old woman, shaking her head and smiling broadly. 'There's more to the wilds than how to nock an arrow, as ye well know, Perian.'

Dacia had used her 'trick' to 'disappear inside' quite often, before the massacre. And yet, try as she might, since that night, Dacia hadn't been able to relax. After a quarter hour, she opened her eyes once again. It was futile, she thought. There were simply too many thoughts in her mind, and her heart was too heavy to be calmed. Wearily she began her trek again, passing from copse to copse and grove to dreary grove, searching, wondering, looking for something she couldn't find ; lost.

xorbaxian
Posts: 40
Joined: Sun Jun 12, 2022 1:37 pm

Re: Dacia's story

Post by xorbaxian » Sun Jul 03, 2022 4:26 pm

Many weeks later and many leagues of forest thereafter, Dacia eventually found herself skirting the south-most reaches of the Arelith forest. She had criss-crossed the southerly expanse of the forest in her search for whatever it was she felt she needed, inevitably finding nothing but emptiness. She was torn, now ; she felt instinctively that what she needed was farther south, but was loathe to leave her forests. For if she were to continue south, she would have to take to the plains. While she didn't particularly dislike the flat grasslands, it meant something more to her, the leaving of 'her' forests ; it signified for her an irreversible closure and irrevocable end to something she held dear.

Looking up, she noted that the morning had almost passed ; midday was almost upon her. Exhausted both mentally and physically from her long search, she wandered about the nearby area for a place to rest before breaking out into the grasslands. It wasn't long before she chanced upon a grove that somehow seemed different from others she'd crossed ; sublimely beautiful and rich with greenery, it was perhaps the most serene of places she'd ever known. She stood agape for a moment or two, then joyfully nestled herself up to the trunk of a large oak tree and began to organise her thoughts. She opened a parcel of food -- fresh mushrooms and fiddleheads she'd gathered the day before -- and ate hungrily whilst planning her journey.

After finishing her meal, the thought occurred to her that she could try once again to practise her exercise, to 'go inside' herself and calm her mind. Although she'd grown despondent at her continued failures to do so recently, perhaps this time something would be different. For the umpteenth time, then, she began her ritual. She placed herself into a comfortable position. She closed her eyes and began again to relax her body, to still her mind. She followed her breathing. Slowly, she felt her awareness begin to coalesce into a small, fine point, as the darkness grew deeper and her breathing faded slowly away, until she was no longer conscious even of that. For a brief while, the flow of time ceased to mark her world as she floated into nothingness.

She awoke from her trance to find a small grey rabbit nibbling at the laces on her boots. The creature looked up at her, its tiny nose twitching in the wind, its black beady eyes regarding her silently, as if waiting for her to speak with it. She looked down at the rabbit with puzzlement. 'Why isn't it running away', she wondered.

The rabbit sat up on its haunches, twitching its nose in the air and placing its paws delicately on its chest, and looked at her a moment, thoughtfully. 'Or it would be looking at me thoughtfully, I think... if rabbits could actually do that', Dacia thought to herself.

'Tsk!' the rabbit replied, turning its head aside in an obvious snub. 'As if rabbits can't be thoughtful!'

'W-what...?' Dacia was stunned. 'You... h-how can you be speaking?!'

The rabbit snickered -- or would have snickered, if it had an anatomy appropriate to snickering. Instead, Dacia somehow had the impression that it had snickered ; as though she'd somehow 'felt' it snickering, in her mind. For in truth, the rabbit's physical expression hadn't changed in the slightest.

Dacia shook her head. 'I-I'm going bonkers. That's it, isn't it? Grief has driven me round the bend.'

The rabbit sighed testily. 'Are you done yet? With your private pity parade, I mean.'

'Uhm...' Confused, Dacia shook her head rapidly back and forth, as if to dislodge whatever it was that had suddenly settled upon her and rendered her version of the world obsolete. She then took a deep, decisive breath. 'Then... Yes ?' she said finally in surrender.

'Very good', the rabbit nodded in approval. 'Then I shall notify her.'

' "Notify..." ? Who ?' asked Dacia, more confused than ever.

'Oh! Well, you really didn't think that I -- I mean, well, I'm just the herald, after all!' The rabbit retorted, closing its eyes. It stood quite still for a moment, its last 'words' echoing off into space most peculiarly.

As the last echo died away, the form of the rabbit began to change, quickly elongating into the shape of a full-grown woman. She was extraordinarily beautiful, with long ash-blonde hair and startling blue eyes that held a deep wisdom. She was garbed in a simple dress coloured in dark green and gold and, surprisingly, her feet were bare. She might've been an elf, Dacia thought, had her ears been long. She looked far too delicate to be a human, or at least what Dacia had been told humans looked like. She was young and fresh, appearing to be in her early-100's in elven terms, but Dacia had the impression that she had somehow lived far, far beyond those years.

The woman looked at Dacia and smiled, as two songbirds flew to her and landed on her shoulder, peeping and cocking their heads expectantly. The woman's smile grew broader, as she moved her hand to stroke the birds' plumage gently before turning her gaze once again upon the young elven girl. 'Dacia', she said, as though it were more of a declaration of fact than the question most people would ask upon first meeting someone they didn't know.

'How do ye know my name?' Dacia asked.

To Dacia's puzzled frown, she continued 'I have been watching you.'

Dacia regarded the woman with more suspicion now. 'Watching me? Ya do realise how absolutely creepy that sounds, right?'

'Rest assured, I bear you no ill will', the woman replied.

'...and yet, ye've been spying on me', Dacia retorted incredulously, arching a brow.

The woman's smile faded as she pursed her lips and shook her head seriously. 'No. Not spying ; watching over you. Because you interest me.' For some reason, her voice -- smooth and mellifluous -- reminded the elf of a pure, dark brook, wending its way through rich, loamy humus. Her plain, soft words seemed to Dacia to be tinged with a certain sadness, as though she somehow knew of the tragedy that had transpired and was aggrieved because of it.

'What do ye mean, "watching over me"?' Dacia asked sceptically. 'I haven't noticed anyone in these parts aside from m'self, and -- well, you could say I'm usually pretty good at noticing that sort of thing.'

The strange woman's smile returned, as she nodded slowly in apparent agreement. 'Usually.' Her stress on the word, however, made it clear it was more of a rebuttal than an agreement.

Dacia could feel herself blush. 'Well... Yeah... I...' she turned aside before finishing her phrase. '...haven't been in top form lately.'

'No', the woman agreed knowingly. 'You bear much scepticism toward the world. Many have betrayed you. I know this. But I ask that you believe me ; I have been watching over you, whether you have noticed me or not. Ever since that night in the village', the woman concluded, nodding gravely as if remembering something unpleasant and far away.

Shocked at the implications of the woman's revelation, Dacia unslung her bow in an instant, nocking an arrow in one fluid motion and pointing it at the stranger. 'Enough!' Dacia challenged, her voice edged with flint. 'Just who are ye, and why are ye here?' There was a chance that the woman wasn't a source of danger, but if she were somehow connected to the coming of the dead, it was best that Dacia be on her guard.

The startled songbirds that had been resting on the mysterious woman's shoulder quickly took flight and disappeared at Dacia's hostile act. Nonplussed, the woman pursed her lips thoughtfully a moment before replying. 'Do not worry ; I am friend, not foe. I am concerned', she ventured, 'and I --'

'Don't know ye!' Dacia interjected. 'Never heard of ye! Never even seen ye before!' Dacia's mind was reeling as the implications of this woman's words began to burst and pop within her mind. This person who refused to identify herself, who claimed to be a 'friend', who'd just simply appeared out of nowhere -- literally by magic -- and had been spying on her ever since the night of the massacre -- had she been the cause of the calamity that had befallen her kin? Had she been the one to send the throngs of walking dead against them?!

The strange woman said nothing in reply, simply fixing Dacia with her calm, unwavering blue eyes that suggested nothing less to Dacia than an endless, fathomless expanse of serene blue sky. All at once, and for no particular reason she could explain, Dacia felt profoundly her complete insignificance in the face of the tremendous power reflected in that expanse. She also felt her fear begin to fade, her anger to edge away. She became conscious of the wind skipping lightly about her, unconcerned with the drama roiling inside her head, as if none of it really mattered all that much anyway.

'I... don't understand', Dacia said, lowering her bow. 'Why... do I get the feeling that I...' She shook her head, leaving the phrase unfinished, then sighed. 'Well. In any event... Getting back to what you were saying. Somehow ye've been "watching over me" all this time -- without me noticing anything at all, just like that, have ye? What are you then, some sort of "Ultra-Powerful Being" or something?' she continued, somewhat tautly. 'Or maybe you're like "The Queen of the Forest" or something, eh?'

Once again, the woman said nothing, choosing simply to regard Dacia patiently.

Despite her silence, Dacia felt once again the incredible presence of the woman before her, felt it even as a palpable pressure against her skin. The birds fell silent. The wind grew calm. The trees ceased their shifting motion. The presence of the woman in front of her filled the entirety of her consciousness.

Feeling her confidence flagging, Dacia reprised, '...And this is the part where you're supposed to say, "Oh, no, nothing like that, ta be sure!" and maybe laugh lightly or something -- ye know, ta reassure me, or... ye know... something... and then tell me who ye really are.'

The woman chuckled softly. 'No, Dacia, that I cannot do. To do so, I would have to lie, and that is something I will never do.'

Dacia was stunned. 'Oh. You're some sort of god, then, are ye? You run this place, do ye?'

The woman smiled ruefully, seeming to feel poignantly the accusations hidden like barbs behind the young girl's words. 'No, young one, I do not. This place is of all the world. And while I may be what some might call a "god", my choices do not dictate, only guide.'

'Ah', Dacia replied open-mouthed, nodding in understanding, her eyes narrowing to slits. 'Huh', she replied ever more vehemently, a bitter smile now wending its way slowly across her lips. 'Yeah. You're a god, then. You're a god!' she repeated, her voice beginning to crack. 'You could've stopped it!' She shook her head in amazement, the absurdity of the situation settling over her like a shroud. 'You could've stopped it! And ye didn't!' Her sneer disappeared as she gave voice to her accusation, and her eyes began to well with the tears she'd been holding back those many months, as she suddenly felt the full impact of realising that all of the rationalisations she'd been fabricating to build up a careful defence around her heart -- that gods didn't exist, that the plight of her people had been beyond all possible hope, and therefore somehow inevitable -- was a complete and utter sham. There might have been another outcome -- but there wasn't. 'You could've come -- and helped! Or you could've sent someone to help! You could've done something -- anything!' Dacia's voice rattled and hic'd with her growing torment. 'And You. Didn't. Come!' The force of her reprisal practically hissed through her teeth clenched with rage and indignation. 'Not you, not some bloody avatar, not an emissary... not even the smallest of creatures did ye send to our aid! NOBODY!' She was practically shouting in her grief now, the tears streaming freely down her cheeks. 'Nobody came! ...and we all... died! Every... last... one!'

The woman waited a moment before replying, her lips clenched tightly in sympathy. 'No, dear one', her soft words carrying some consolation to the girl. 'There is one left.'

Consoling as they were meant to be, the strange woman's words did little to warm Dacia's spirit or wash away her grief. 'What does it matter?!' she screamed. 'I am now the last of my line, alone in the world! And all that I loved is gone! You might as well have taken me along with them!'

The older woman regarded the young elf silently for a moment, her eyes filled with pity. 'I am sorry, Dacia. I, too, feel your pain -- truly! You know not how deeply I feel it! And though you may believe me to be the cause of the downfall of the village that night, I tell you truly, it was not I who took those whom you love, but another. And know also that you are not alone -- for I am here, and there are others of your kind as well.'

The maelstrom of Dacia's thoughts and feelings began to calm at the softness of the words spoken by the mysterious woman. Indeed, her very presence was like a balm to Dacia, somehow gradually healing the terrible, tremendous pain of her recent loss. She felt as if her heart were being bathed in the radiance of the beautiful woman who stood before her, that she somehow gradually eased some of the pain inside her. Dacia wondered briefly if she might be under the influence of some sort of charm, forgetting for a moment that she, like all elves, was immune to those enchantments. No, she realised, this was something else ; this was the filling of an emptiness that she'd felt inside her for much too long, and the easing of a strange constriction which had bound her heart like leaden shackles.

The woman took a graceful step toward her. 'Now. Let us talk.'

Despite her approach, Dacia felt no fear ; on the contrary, she longed for her presence, felt a deep yearning for her closeness. She nodded once and took a step toward her.

'What happened that night, no one should experience', the woman continued. 'There was no rhyme nor reason to the events of that night ; no basis for it in nature whatsoever. Indeed, it was a blasphemy against all that is life and the flow of nature. Do you understand?'

Dacia nodded.

The woman stood directly in front of Dacia now. She reached out her hand and touched her cheek gently. All at once, something within Dacia gave way, and all of the torment and the fear and the rage that she'd cordoned off within herself, all of the grief and terrible sadness that she had repressed so absolutely for so many months on end, came pouring out of her in a flood, and she wailed, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably in her grief.

The beautiful woman took her in her arms and held her head against her chest, stroking her hair as she sobbed, her warmth filling Dacia with soft reassurance, her whispers falling delicately around Dacia like a breeze in springtime. 'I know', the woman said, consoling. 'There was no justice there that night, and you have suffered much....' She continued stroking her hair, as her tears eventually began to slow.

The woman continued finally. 'But you should know also that there are limits to what all beings can do, even immortals -- for good, but also (fortunately) for ill -- and there are reasons for all things, even the unjust ; and even those which you cannot see. Perhaps one day, all of this will become clear to you. If you continue your search, certainly, you will find that which you seek.'

Dacia wiped her nose and, after a moment of thought, she replied quietly, 'I... don't even seem to know what it is I'm looking for'.

'But you do, dear one. Serve me', the woman replied matter-of-factly, looking Dacia in the eye and holding her by her shoulders before her. 'Serve me, and together we shall right this injustice. Together we shall reset the balance. I am that which you seek. For it was I whom you called to you, whether you know it or not.'

Far-fetched or vainglorious as those words might be in any normal situation, they rang true for Dacia in this one. Somehow the honesty and ingenuousness of them left no doubt in her mind ; she felt the truth of them in her heart. She stared at the moist earth by her feet, considering them, then nodded and smiled weakly.

'You shall carry on south from here', the woman continued, turning southward and pointing as she spoke. 'Along that path, far to the south, at the edge of the sea, seek me in the city of men. For while the forests are mine, I too am everywhere there is life, even unto men. Go there, to their towers and their tunnels and their houses of stone. Go there, and find me. For there you shall know me as I am more than I am now, and there -- if you choose to serve me -- you shall find that which you seek : your allies, and your arm!'

Dacia nodded again, dumbly, and when she looked up at the woman, there was nothing before her but an empty grove ; only the stand of oaks stood many yards away. It was dark, she noticed ; apparently the sun had gone down as they had stood there talking, or perhaps the forest had somehow grown darker still, or...

She awoke from her trance to find a small grey rabbit nibbling at the laces on her boots. The creature looked up at her, its tiny nose twitching in the wind, its black beady eyes regarding her silently -- and scampered off.

Dacia frowned in puzzlement and rubbed her eyes, and was surprised to find tears there. She had been... crying? In a flash, she remembered. Jumping to her feet, she looked around her quickly, but there was no one there ; only the endless forest, stretching on before her in the midday sun, just as before. But for the first time in months, it didn't look quite so dark and quite so endless, and Dacia felt not quite as heavy and not quite as impotent as she had throughout all her travels.

'What a strange... dream? Was I dreaming, then?' she pondered. Regardless of what it was, the experience filled her with an inexplicable sense of purpose. She knew at last, on an instinctual level, how to gain the support she needed to achieve her goal. Turning southward with nary an additional thought to the world she placed at her back, she took a deep breath and set out.
~=*=~

Somewhere deep along the twining darkness of the virgin forest, one could almost imagine a voice which seemed to whisper softly, gently, like the wind passing through the boughs of ancient, ageless branches.
Go now, tiny floret... go, and be brave...
Last edited by xorbaxian on Sun Aug 14, 2022 7:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.

xorbaxian
Posts: 40
Joined: Sun Jun 12, 2022 1:37 pm

Re: Dacia's story

Post by xorbaxian » Wed Jul 13, 2022 5:03 pm

The plains offered her few opportunities to travel unseen as she wended her way south, but strangely, miraculously, she encountered no real difficulties as she travelled. In fact, with the exception of occasional animals that she ignored or, where necessary, avoided, very few creatures of any sort crossed her path, to say nothing of the encounters she'd been dreading the most : hostile humanoids and other, more dangerous foes. It was almost as if she were being watched over by a higher power, she reflected. Reassuring as that seemed, she couldn't afford to relax, she reminded herself ; it was exactly in such situations that one met one's end -- a lesson drilled into her as a small child, when that was almost exactly what happened.

Several weeks passed before the terrain began to change once again. The plains gave way to gently rolling hills and small, sparsely wooded groves. Soon enough, she began noticing increased signs of civilisation, and eventually large stretches of arable land became commonplace. These were the fields and farms of the humans, she thought. Unable to subsist in harmony with nature, they instead attempted to overcome her power, to circumvent her influence ; or to train her somehow, and direct her in their own meagre way. Dacia pursed her lips thoughtfully ; perhaps this was also a form of 'nature' as well, she reflected ; after all, men were natural creatures, were they not? Then weren't the things of men also, ultimately, the things of nature? But even allowing for this strange twist in logic, she couldn't quite bring herself to accept a way of living that she saw as being a certain failure of life itself.

The humans tending the fields seemed to pose no real threat as she passed through their demesne. Nevertheless Dacia kept her distance, confining herself to the cover of the infrequent copses and high grasses whenever she could, ever wary of any potential risk. She decided finally to wait until nightfall before advancing further. At dusk, she continued on, cautiously but quickly, through the terrain of man, finally arriving at the outskirts of what she'd recognised several hours before as a large, fortified town.

There were still quite a number of people gathered outside the walls of the town, each going about his business, and not a one seeming to let up, although it was almost night. Some of these wore armour of one sort or another ; they were apparently town guards, Dacia told herself, although they were not especially vigilant. This surprised Dacia. 'If it were elves, they'd've seen me hours ago!' she scoffed. Then she chided herself ; no amount of that vigilance she was so proud of had been enough to save even a single soul in her village that night. 'Well. Except me...' she murmured despondently.

Bringing herself back to the present, she rallied herself to approach the town. Covering her bow with a cloth from her pack and pulling her hood up over her head, she'd decided that the most successful method of getting inside the town undetected would probably be to hide 'in plain view', blending in with the rest of the townsfolk as much as possible. 'The best place to hide a tree is in the forest', she quipped.

Dacia wandered out between several groups of people as though she were returning home from a long day in the fields, picking up a few sticks along the way and placing them alongside her bow. She took her time, approaching the town gate with neither hurry nor concern. A man near the city wall looked at her as she passed, and she nodded once, briefly, in silent acknowledgment, continuing on through the city gate with the stream of townsfolk returning for the night and out into the plaza strewn with its narrow sprawl of streets and alleys branching off from the entry into the city.

She stopped, standing there agape at what she saw : the city, spread out before her, in all its noise and flurry ; the many, many people, packed everywhere she looked, going about their business in this bustling place without a care in the world ; all the carts and wagons, drawn by oxen and horses and cattle and asses and even more people ; and the rows upon rows of tall, artificial dwellings stretching up into the sky, facing every available square inch of every city street, closing in over top of her. The rumours were true, then ; the homes of the humans really were constructed of the cloven flesh of the great trees! Dacia shivered. What a strange and fearful place this was...

Just then, a man returning from the fields, tired and inattentive, bumped into her from behind, not realising she had stopped in front of him. Dacia let out a yelp.

'Ey!' cried the man, almost at the same time as she, and also in surprise. 'Wha're ye doin'?!' he shouted at her, incredulous.

'Sorry!' she answered in elvish, moving quickly out of the man's way.

He dismissed her with a curt scowl accompanied by a gruff harrumph and continued on his way to wherever it was that had been so important, leaving Dacia watching after him for a moment, dumbfounded.

'My', Dacia muttered finally. 'I... don't... don't like it here', she concluded, shaking her head as if to emphasize the point. She began to take stock of her surroundings, hoping to find someplace at least better than her immediate vicinity, if not better than the city itself. She should find somewhere to get her bearings, she realised. She was also hungry and thirsty, and quite weary, and while she was perfectly at home procuring her food and drink in the wilds, if she were to believe what she had been told by the strange woman in her dream, she would find what she needed here, among men. She would therefore have to make do with what the humans had to offer, at least in the short term. 'Of course. Why should it be easy, after all?' she grumbled, irritated as much by her own shortcomings as by her immediate environment.

She walked a bit farther on, observing the buildings around her. Some of them had signs. Dacia found herself feeling grateful that her father had instructed her in the common tongue of man when she was smaller ; now, in this circumstance, that knowledge was proving invaluable.

It wasn't long before one building in particular caught her eye. The sound of music was coming from within, as were the smells of liquor and food. 'The Nomad', read the sign over the door. 'Appropriate', she thought, recognising in herself a bit of the wandering traveller for which the place was apparently named. She grunted slightly, nodding her head as if agreeing to the building's unspoken invitation, and stepped through the doorway.

The room she entered was already filled with people, most of whom were busily drinking and chatting away. She approached the place centremost in the room, also the point which seemed to be the focus of attention amongst the patrons, which was, of course, the bar.

'Hello there dear. Something I can do for you?' The voice came from a pleasant, matronly woman, not too old for a human, who carried herself with a certain hint of authority. 'She must be the innkeeper', Dacia thought. She pondered the question for a moment, debating whether or not she should ask her for details about the place, the environs, the city, ... Realising that such would require an extended amount of effort on both their parts, she decided against it. She'd been traveling without stopping for weeks on end, remaining ever vigilant, even at night, and her fatigue had caught up with her.

'I- is there a place here I can rest?'

'There are common rooms that any may use, just be sure and leave the door open when you are finished, yes?'

Dacia smiled and nodded weakly, taking the key the woman proffered, and stumbled down the hall and into the small room she'd indicated. There was a rug covering part of the hardwood floor ('white oak', Dacia immediately thought absently), a dresser that had seen better days, and -- most importantly -- a bed. A real, genuine, human-sized bed, with woollen covers, and even a pillow, of all things. Dacia locked the door, and placed her bow against the wall next to the bed. Exhausted beyond all belief from her many weeks of traveling in constant vigilance, now feeling relatively safe for the first time in ages, she let her pack fall to the floor with a muffled thump, stripped off her armour, and let herself collapse heavily onto the bed. 'Mm. Strange. Soft...' she thought, falling immediately fast asleep.

xorbaxian
Posts: 40
Joined: Sun Jun 12, 2022 1:37 pm

Re: Dacia's story

Post by xorbaxian » Sun Jul 17, 2022 5:04 pm

Dacia woke with a start, the fading visions of animated corpses with familiar yet misshapen faces feeding on her as she screamed in vain being gradually replaced by the texture of homely rough-hewn wooden walls and colourful soft woollen fabric. Confused for the briefest of moments, Dacia remembered finally that she had made it to the city of men, that she was staying at an inn : The Nomad, in the city of... Cordor, was it? Well at any rate there weren't any zombies trying ravenously to rip her living flesh from her bones here, which was, she reckoned, a turn for the better. She breathed deeply and sighed, dismayed by the stale flavour of the air in the small, unlighted room, and looked around a moment in thought before finally hefting herself out of bed. 'Well. Can't stay here all night', she resolved. She fished a tunic and some lightweight pantaloons out of her pack and hurriedly put them on before heading out.

The woman at the bar was the same one as had greeted her when she'd arrived. 'I guess this place must belong to her', Dacia thought.

The proprietor beamed at Dacia as she approached. 'Glad to see you're up and about! You looked a bit out of sorts last time we talked', she said, grinning. 'Did you sleep well?'

Dacia smiled through half-lidded eyes and nodded. She knew she must look a fright, with her hair unkempt, and in dire need of a bath, but the proprietor didn't seem to mind. 'Very well, thank you. I'm Dacia, by the way.'

'Pleased to meet you, Dacia. My name is Rhonna.'

Dacia nodded again, wiping the sleep from her eyes and beating down the temptation to yawn.

'You know,' Rhonna continued, 'I'd heard you elves don't really sleep at all ; that you actually only go into a sort of "trance" or something for a short time -- but I guess that's not true, is it?'

Dacia regarded the proprietor with a bemused smile. 'What do ye mean?'

The woman chuckled. 'Well, you've been in that room, quiet as a mouse for some time, now! I mean, you have been sleeping, haven't you?'

'Well, yes, I have been', Dacia replied. Noticing the sunlight streaming brightly through the far windows of the inn, she realised it was already late morning. 'Ah, I see. I've slept the whole night through, have I?'

The proprietor looked at Dacia agape before laughing outright. 'The whole night through? Why, you've slept the night, and a day as well, dear! I had my boy go check in on you yestereve, just to make sure you were still among the living!'

'Yes, well... the bed was... very comfortable', Dacia replied meekly, turning her face away in embarrassment.

The woman beamed brightly. 'Well, I'm glad to hear it. We want our guests to be happy, after all. Now then, will you be having any breakfast?'

At the thought of food, Dacia's stomach gurgled involuntarily. 'Ah!' she replied with surprise. 'Ehm... yes, I... think I will, yes', she finished hastily.

'By the sound of your stomach', Rhonna said pointing, 'you probably haven't eaten a proper meal in ages. How about our full ploughman's breakfast, then? That's got two eggs and ham sausages, with all the fresh-baked rye bread you can eat on the side.'

'"Ham... sausages"?'

The innkeeper regarded her patron curiously. 'Well, yes, dear, ham sausages. You know, sausages? Pork meat?'

'Ah...' Dacia replied, smiling weakly.

'Something wrong, dear?' asked Rhonna, noticing Dacia's strange expression.

'I... don't eat the flesh of animals,' she offered apologetically. 'Usually, that is!' she was quick to add in reassurance, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

Rhonna nodded thoughtfully for a moment before replying. 'Well, I can offer you some barley soup, then. Oh, but wait, that's made with beef broth. Or, what about some maize pottage? Will that be alright?'

'Maize... pottage?' Dacia turned the unfamiliar words around in her mouth.

'Yes. Maize pottage. It's... well, you know, a pottage. Made from maize.'

Dacia smirked and stifled a laugh at the woman's attempt to explain the apparently unexplainable to her. Rhonna, seeing her guest struggle not to grin and her face wrinkling up and turning pink as a turnip, couldn't help laughing herself, at which point Dacia could no longer contain herself and burst out laughing as well. It was all she could do to nod vigorously, finally managing a breathless 'I'm sure that will be fine'.

Dacia took a seat at the end of one of the many long tables distributed about the inn, and it wasn't long before a serving girl arrived with her meal. 'There you go, then. Maize pottage. Enjoy!' the serving girl offered before disappearing into the thickening throng of tavern guests.

The meal set before her was some sort of steaming hot, grain-filled creamy substance in a large bowl. It was rather heavy and quite thick, Dacia noticed with interest, as she stirred the bowl a bit. The grains were themselves quite large, and of various colours -- yellows, golds, browns -- and she realised they must be the seeds of some sort of plant. She breathed in deeply, allowing the scent of the dish to fill her with its light, flowery fragrance. Overjoyed, she cautiously raised a spoonful of the hot substance to her lips, blowing on it to cool it down before taking a nibble. Its flavour was soft and full, with just a hint of tang. Although it had a hardy consistency and taste to it, it wasn't at all aggressive ; in fact, the flavour was rather delicate. She was surprised at how sweet it tasted, deciding finally that it wasn't at all disagreeable.

Once she'd finished her meal, she carried her bowl back to the bar. Rhonna came over to greet her.

'If ye let me know where to find water, I'll wash it for ye', Dacia announced.

Rhonna laughed. 'Oh, no, dear, no need for that ; we're not short of staff. Here, give it over, then', she said, holding out her hand.

Dacia handed her the bowl, then fished in her pouch for coin to pay for her stay. Once she'd settled her bill, she realised she now had very little left over. If she were going to stay any length of time in this town, she'd need to get money from somewhere.

'Rhonna, would ye be needin' any help round hereabouts?' she asked the proprietor.

'Help?' she queried, 'No... not really. As I said, we're not short of staff here, and what needs getting done generally gets done. You're looking for work, are you?'

'Yes, actually.'

'You're new in town, then?'

'I am, yeah.'

'How's your health?' Rhonna asked, after thinking for a moment.

'My... health?' Dacia asked quizzically.

'Yes. I mean, well, you look like you're in pretty good shape. If you're healthy and you can run a bit, carry a bit of extra weight, and hold your own in a scuffle', Rhonna continued thoughtfully, 'there are a few places I know that might hire you.'

'Well, yes, actually, my health is quite good', Dacia announced, satisfied that in so doing, she may have overcome one of the hurdles that lay between her and her independence in the world of humans.

'Well then, as I say, I can't offer you anything here. But you might want to check down at the docks. I've heard tell that Master Frugo over at the Speedy Delivery service is looking for couriers. But I daresay you'll have quite a bit of running about to do,' Rhonna finished with a wink.

Dacia grinned. 'If that's all there is to it, I'll make short work of it then.'

Rhonna nodded, smiling broadly in return. 'Good luck to you, then, Dacia. Don't be a stranger, you're welcome here any time.'

After thanking Rhonna one last time, Dacia collected her things and set out, careful to leave the door to the common room open as she'd been instructed. Although the air outside wasn't hemmed in by the four solid walls of a tavern, Dacia still felt a bit stifled, as though the presence of the town were pressing in on her from all sides. 'How they can live like this...', Dacia marvelled, reflecting on the torturous existence the inhabitants of Cordor must lead from day to day.

Finding her way to the docks wasn't as easy as she'd imagined it would be, as orientating herself proved more troublesome than she'd anticipated. The tang of the sea was often obscured by the strong, unnatural odours of Cordor (many of which she found quite unpleasant), and she often found her path diverted or obstructed by an uncooperative alleyway or the sudden appearance of a dead end. Nevertheless, she did finally manage to make it to the port, and it wasn't long before she found the delivery service Rhonna had mentioned.

'Speedy Messenger Delivery Service', the sign read. The lettering on the sign was cracked and faded, having been abused by sea and sun for quite some time, and the outside of the building -- lustreless wood long devoid of life -- shared similar signs of wear. Despite the apparent wear on the structure, the door opened easily for her, revealing a dark, crowded room filled with packages within, and three short clerks working busily away.

One of the clerks began shouting testily up as she entered. 'For the last time I don't have yer... oh, sorry, thought you were someone else', he said, finally looking up from his work. 'You lookin' fer a job, kid? At Speedy Messenger Delivery Service, we strive to deliver various packages to the fine citizens of our city.'

Dacia giggled. 'Well, they certainly are enthusiastic!' she mused. 'As a matter of fact, I am', she answered him, smiling broadly.

After a bit more chit-chat, the clerk -- Frugo Till, as he'd introduced himself -- handed her a large sack with a number of parcels in it. Having done so, he immediately forgot about her, turning away to busy himself with other matters, as though Dacia were no longer present.

'Let's see, then...' she said, looking through the various items he'd entrusted to her care. There were eight deliveries in all. 'A letter for someone named Kolrán, at the Grand Temple. A parcel for someone else named Lucrecia in the Mercantile Building. Oh, now here's a strange one: a theatre mask, for someone named Pelham Festwick in the Cordor Theatre. Oh!' she exclaimed suddenly, brightening with surprise upon seeing the fourth package. 'Rhonna Mayfield in the Nomad! Well, I know who that is!' she grinned. Happy that she'd found a way to start making ends meet in this strange place, and even happier she'd get to see someone she already knew once again, Dacia set out on this most important of missions : to deliver these valuable parcels to eight of the important denizens of the City of Cordor.

xorbaxian
Posts: 40
Joined: Sun Jun 12, 2022 1:37 pm

Re: Dacia's story

Post by xorbaxian » Sun Aug 14, 2022 7:25 pm

Running from one end of the city to another, it wasn't long before she began to familiarise herself with the general whereabouts of its different districts, if not its many labyrinthine streets and alleys. It also wasn't long before she began to attract more than a few stares from some of the well-heeled people she passed, who looked at her with surprise or concern, sometimes whispering to each other as she ran by. 'I wonder what that's all about', she asked herself.

She didn't have long to wait for an answer. A rather stuffy looking gentleman carrying a tall, crooked staff stepped out into her path, causing her to stop abruptly. 'Now look here, young lady', he berated her, 'I don't know what hillock of uncivilised countryside you were raised in, but here in more cultured realms, one does not run when she should walk! See to it that you --'

Dacia interrupted the man mid-harangue. 'No time for talkin', gotta get to the action! These packages aren't gonna just wait around, now are they?' she added, motioning toward the huge sack she carried and promptly excusing herself. 'See ya!' With that, she continued on her way, quickly disappearing around a corner, leaving the uptight gentleman with a flabbergasted expression plastered permanently on his paunchy face.

Dacia worked diligently through the day, making deliveries to various points scattered about what quickly began to seem like a very large city indeed. As her morning turned to noon, and thence to afternoon, she began to reflect on the many different people she'd met on this, her first day at work in the new town. There were certainly some interesting people in the city, some of them quite remarkable indeed : The somewhat uptight theatre manager with a nasal problem that apparently forced him to speak with his head tipped slightly back. The sergeant who offered gold for the severed heads (the heads, no less!) of wanted criminals. The mapmaker who was creating a scale model of the entire island in his parlour ('now there was a frightening man', Dacia reflected).

Finally, she had only two deliveries left : a letter addressed to someone named Kolrán in the Great Cathedral, and a parcel to Rhonna at the Nomad, just outside the city gates. She decided she'd deliver the letter to Kolrán next, saving her new-found acquaintance for last, and quickly made her way back to the town centre plaza, where she eventually arrived in front of the imposing form of the Great Cathedral she'd noticed earlier that day.

Pushing on the oversized, sturdy doors, she made her way into the large, darkened atrium. Amongst the various priests and knights calmly working away within, she saw a tall, elderly man bearing a certain aura of authority occupied with something in the apse at the far end of the great nave. As she made her way toward him, she observed with interest the many beautiful paintings, ornate carvings and fixtures which adorned the interior of the cathedral. The walls, just as impressive, were all carved of large blocks of stone, meticulously fashioned to fit together precisely. Even the various segments of the vaults of the side chapels fit harmoniously together and blended elegantly with the form of the rest of the building. 'How many decades, or even centuries, must it have taken to build all this?' she marvelled.

The priest looked up from his texts as Dacia grew near. Noticing the letter in her hand, the priest extended his open hand toward her as he spoke up. 'I see you bring word from the frontlines.'

Dacia handed him the letter in response, as the priest continued. 'Stay, and listen to my words of life upon this isle, and how to survive it.'

'Sure, I'm listening', replied Dacia, intrigued by the priest's offer.

'Do not let the peace of this city deceive you, for this is an island at constant war. The dangers faced are many, and the next is never far away.'

'I see.' Dacia reflected quietly on the priest's words for a moment while he waited patiently. 'In fact,' she continued, 'well... actually I'm looking for someone -- I think. Or maybe... something? Agh... I can't rightly say, to be honest,' Dacia finished with a sigh.

The old priest, sensing her perplexity, smiled and walked over to a nearby bench, and sat down. 'Why don't you tell me about it?' he offered, patting the space next to him on the bench indicating she should sit down beside him.

Dacia sat down hesitantly next to him, collecting her thoughts for a moment. Gradually, she began her tale, surprised at the growing ease with which she was able to open her heart to this complete stranger, if only even a little. She told him of her clan, and of their lives in the forest. Then she told him of the coming of the dead. She told him of her flight, her subsequent struggles, and her strange dream of the mysterious, beautiful woman in the forest. She told him of her journey southward in search of support for her conquest and, finally, her arrival in the city and her current situation.

'How terrible,' remarked the priest earnestly once she'd finished. 'I am very sorry for your loss.'

Dacia did little by way of reply other than pursing her lips in a half smile of acknowledgment as she studied the priest, gauging his sincerity.

Kolrán paused for a moment, lowering his head in reflection. The pinched brows upon his face created deep furrows on his forehead as he silently contemplated Dacia's story. He looked up after a long moment, appraising Dacia with a piercing regard, almost as though he were considering something of great import to her and was weighing the potential consequences of bringing it to light.

'As to the woman in your meditation...', he said finally, seeming to have decided.

Dacia glanced at the man with a puzzled frown. 'My medi-whatnow?'

The priest looked at her in surprise, then chuckled. 'Your meditation. It is what you called, "going inside yourself".' Dacia looked at the priest with renewed interest, as he continued. 'It is actually a common form of... well, I guess it is a sort of "mental exercise" would be one way to put it. People meditate in order to achieve a higher level of awareness of the spiritual -- something they're often able to do after practising diligently for a long enough period of time. But you seem to have a bit of a "knack" for it,' Kolrán finished.

Dacia nodded, taking in the priest's words. With the exception of that period several weeks before, she had indeed always found it quite easy to 'meditate', as the priest put it.

'Now, as for the woman,' the priest insisted. 'It seems to me as though you have been called.' Kolrán announced this conclusion with a certain air of finality to it, as though he had arrived at the verdict through long and careful deliberation.

' "Called" ? What do ye mean?'

Kolràn smiled. 'Do not worry. It is merely a term we priests use to describe an event that prompts one to seek a higher purpose. That is what it seems to me has happened with you. However,' the priest continued, 'I do not think you will find what you are looking for here.'

'Oh? But...' Dacia drifted off, puzzled. 'Somehow I was sure,' she murmured.

'Oh, do not misunderstand,' the priest reassured her. 'Perhaps you will find it here, in this city, but not here, in the Great Cathedral. I do not believe there is anything here that would correspond to the experience you have related to me. However, there is one other place you might look.'

'And where is that?'

'There are actually several temples in the city centre. One in particular comes to mind after hearing your story. It lies directly opposite us, on the other side of the plaza. Go there -- you'll come to an alms house first, opposite a mapmaker's.' Dacia shuddered involuntarily at the mention of the mapmaker as the priest continued. 'Behind the alms house there is a temple. It is there that I think you will want to visit. It is easy to miss, though, because the entrance is rather unassuming. You may need to check the doors to be sure.'

'And ye think I'll find the answer to my questions by looking in that temple, then?'

'I do indeed.'

'And why would that be?' she challenged. 'That is, meanin' no disrespect to ye, but could a priest from a temple give me an army to help me rid the lands of those walking dead?'

Kolrán smiled. 'No. But... I do not think a host of men-at-arms will be most helpful to you at this point,' he replied mysteriously.

Dacia fixed the priest with a deadpan stare. 'Ye seem to know more than yer lettin' on. Would ye be so kind as to tell me what it is?'

Kolrán pursed his lips thoughtfully for a moment before answering. 'Well. To put it simply, it is my belief that the higher purpose to which you've been called actually involves the service to a deity.'

'A deity?' Dacia replied sceptically. 'Beggin' yer pardon, but I don't really think that can be. Why do you?'

'Well, first of all, if you are a user of magic, your deity will grant you access to magical powers. Without the presence of a deity you cannot work High Magic, neither arcane nor divine.'

'That's all very well and good,' Dacia replied a bit tartly, 'but I'm no user of magic ; I'm nowt but a maid tryin' to make her way in life as best she can, and that's about it.'

'Your deity may also bless you before battles or aid you in dangerous situations when you pray to it,' Kolrán countered. 'Sometimes the deities even return mortals from the threshold of death.'

Dacia nodded at the priest, perhaps a bit dismissively, before forcing a smile. 'A deity. Well, whatever else would I expect a priest to tell me?' she thought, before replying to him. 'Thank you, Kolrán. I'll be going now.'

Kolrán smiled at her and nodded his head in acknowledgment. 'Go in peace, Dacia. But beware. Surrounding this city are many hostile tribes and creatures, but besides the kobolds, goblins and other local threats there are far worse perils as one travels further afield.'

Dacia reflected on the priest's words, thinking at first he was obviously referring to the undead menace. But she immediately realised it was simplistic to suppose as much of the priest following the recounting of her story. Why would he warn her about something she was already well acquainted with, after all? I wonder what he could be referring to, she wondered. Was he implying that there were things out there more terrible than being attacked by an entire horde of walking dead? She grasped her delivery sack tightly to her chest in response, shivering slightly at the thought.

xorbaxian
Posts: 40
Joined: Sun Jun 12, 2022 1:37 pm

Re: Dacia's story

Post by xorbaxian » Mon Aug 22, 2022 10:36 am

Dacia returned to her deliveries, lost in thought. It would behoove her to learn all she could about these 'hostile tribes and creatures' the priest Kolrán had mentioned, especially if it meant her staying alive. 'Well, I could ask some of the adventurers about them', she considered. 'But those adventurers are a mixed lot, and it seems like some of them aren't to be trusted.' She considered the other groups of people she'd run across earlier that day. The intelligent set would likely know what the priest was referring to, but they seemed to have more important things to do, like scolding messenger girls and reminding them to slow down and walk when inside the city walls. Who to ask, then?

Just as she rounded the corner of one of the city centre's several majestic stone-wrought buildings, the answer presented itself. The street she'd turned onto continued directly on to the esplanade before the city's north gate, through which she had entered a few days before. The pair of guards on the inside of the gate caught her attention ; there was another pair like them on the outside of the gate as well, she remembered. They were sure to know what dangers lurked outside the walls! She smiled and quickened her step enthusiastically, passing out through the gate to the other side. Sizing up the one to her left, she approached him cautiously before venturing a greeting. 'Hello! Ehm... have ye got a moment? I've just got a question, I think ye might be able to answer it for me.'

'Sorry, mum, can't right now, we're busy.'

'Busy?' Dacia echoed, looking in turn at the two men standing stock still beside the gate, then around them, then back at the two men again. 'Doing what?'

'Manning the gate, mum.'

'Manning the gate?'

'Yes, mum. Manning the gate.'

'Manning the gate', Dacia repeated again, this time wearing a more thoughtful expression. She then repeated 'manning the gate' yet a third time, placing noticeable emphasis on the word 'manning'. She quickly followed this up with 'Don't ye think that's a bit prejudicial?'

The guard looked at her, confusion plainly written on his face. 'Preju-dicial?'

'Yeah. I mean, "manning the gate" 'n all.'

The guard looked slowly over to his partner incredulous. The second guard shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, his eyebrows raised and his eyes closed, as if to say it was his partner's own fault for paying attention to a daft elf girl in the first place.

The first guard turned back to Dacia, a stern look on his face. 'Now look here, miss, --'

'What? You don't think so?'

'-- uhh... Think what?'

'That it's prejudicial. It really is, when you think about it -- not to mention more than slightly ridiculous. I mean, I can't imagine one of our own saying, "Hello, Dacia! Comin' out tonight? I'm elfing the main gate, you know!" Or, like, the dwarves, sayin' they're "dwarfing" the main gate -- now that would be truly ridiculous, wouldn't it?' she said, the image of a giant-sized dwarf twice the size of a city gate immediately springing to mind. 'So I wonder why it is, then, that, in the world of men, you say "oh, we're manning the gate!" Humph… Manning the gate. The very idea... As if men are all that matters! You should just be civil about it and say you're guarding the gate, after all. I mean, that is what you're doing, isn't it?' Dacia finished, looking at the guard pointedly.

The guard, whose mouth had fallen open at the onslaught, looked slowly once again over to his companion, who simply shook his head a second time, this time adding a quick circular motion of his finger about the right side of his head.

'Uhm... mum, now, that may be, uhm, but, now... if ye don't mind, really, we've got work to do.'

'Right. Guarding the gate', Dacia insisted.

The guard, utterly defeated, simply sighed and nodded as Dacia smiled winsomely.

'Good! Then you're just the man I want to talk to!'

'Miss!' the guard replied tersely, his patience clearly at an end.

Dacia shrank back. '...please?' she countered delicately, her large, emerald eyes fixed hopefully on his.

The guard let out a heavy sigh of resignation. 'Oh, all right. Just once, mind. One question. And you've got to leave if we tell you.'

'Right!' replied Dacia, overjoyed. 'So. I was talking to a priest not long ago, and he told me that going outside the city walls is quite dangerous. And since you two are "manning the gate" --'

'Guarding the gate', harmonised the guard at the same time with a nod, much to Dacia's great satisfaction.

'-- I thought you two might be just the right fellahs to ask, as ye've got the knowledge of it, 'n all.'

'Ah. Well. Go on, then,' replied the guard, evidently not entirely displeased at her comment.

'Well. He mentioned a few things specifically.'

'...'N they was?'

'What can you tell me about... "co-balds", I think it was? And "goblins".'

'Kobolds, ye mean, right?' corrected the guard.

'Yeah, that's it', agreed Dacia. 'Them.'

'Well', began the guard, his attitude softening somewhat. Apparently quite pleased at having been given centre stage for a moment, he launched into a fit of spontaneous exposition. 'As you've 'eard, there's all sorts of nasty fings indeed, waitin' outside the walls fer unsuspectin' folk such as yeself!' Dacia grinned and giggled in spite of herself at the exaggerated expression the guard adopted with his reply : goggle-eyed, and with a malevolent grin, as though he were beginning a bed-time story for small children.

'First off', he counted off on his thumb, 'ye've got yer kobolds. Nasty li'l fings, kobolds. Only about so tall', he gestured, placing his flattened hand at the height of his groin, 'but nasty, none the less. They're kinda like overgrown lizards walkin' on two legs, 'cept they ain't got'ny tails'.

The guard on the other side of the gate added something Dacia couldn't quite hear, like '...no bwvls either.'

'Not so much to worry about one-on-one, mind', the first guard hurriedly continued, ignoring his comrade.

Nevertheless, the second guard, his interest in the discussion obviously growing, chimed in with his own opinion. 'But they're mostly out in groups, yeah? Makes 'em a lot messier to deal wif like that'.

'Yeah, right?' agreed the first guard, nodding. 'But ye don't see kobolds all that often 'round 'ere, do ye? I'm finkin' as the night patrol's been doin' a right good job of late.'

'Yeah', agreed the second guard, as though struck by an epiphany. 'Right good job, they 'as! Right good!'

'And then there's orcs', the first guard continued. 'They're a bit bigger'n men, 'n they've got li'l piggy noses. Usually not too much of a problem, orcs is. Usually, I mean.'

'Right. Usually,' agreed guard number two. 'But ye'd best take care anyway, yeah? I mean, ye don't exac'ly 'ave the look of a seasoned adventurer about ye, do ye?' he finished, a few spaces between the guard's yellow-brown teeth showing plainly in his overly broad grin.

The first guard guffawed heartily at his partner's observation, but the apparent profundity of the joke was lost on Dacia, who only smiled weakly and nodded.

'Oh! 'n don't forget the goblins! Been quite a few of 'em about lately, there 'as. Greedy li'l blighters, 'n nasty as f---!'

'Goblins?' rejoined the second guard, scoffing in disbelief. 'Nah they ain't nuffing. Only a bit bigger'n kobolds, goblins is. Orange skin, big noses, small brains. One good hit's all it takes 'n they're dead! Why, a good smack wif a soup ladle's enuff to put one o' them down!'

The first guard snorted his approval before echoing 'Right down!'

The two guards, obviously finished with their discourse, looked at Dacia with satisfied smiles similar to how a benevolent pontiff might regard his flock after blessing them with the benediction of his holy presence. Dacia, taking the hint, smiled and nodded gratefully. 'Well! That's good to know, then. I thank ye both ever so much.'

'Not at all,' replied the first guard with a smile.

'...and, as promised, I shan't keep ye longer. As I've already taken up more than enough of your time, I'll be off.' She nodded to them in acknowledgment one last time and turned back again toward the street as the two guards nodded back and smiled at her affably, the first guard raising his fingers to his helmet as though doffing a hat to bid her farewell.

The two watched her receding form for a moment before the first one turned toward his companion. 'Cute, that one.'

'Yup', the second guard grunted noncommittally.

The two returned then to standing quietly once again, eyeing the occasional merchant passing this way or that, the infrequent adventurer headed only gods knew where, and the long rows of peasants working in the fields under the ponderous, orange sun as it descended slowly toward the jagged, blackened treeline. They passed their time like that in motionless silence for a while until, eventually, the first guard spoke once again.

'Hope she comes back.'

The second guard glanced briefly at his companion and snorted derisively before turning his head back once again toward the broad, sweeping fields extending far off into the distance under the flat, expressionless sky.

xorbaxian
Posts: 40
Joined: Sun Jun 12, 2022 1:37 pm

Re: Dacia's story

Post by xorbaxian » Sun Aug 28, 2022 9:03 pm

She shouldered her large delivery sack grown thin and light and floppy with her efforts of the day, feeling the weight of the solitary remaining parcel within it, to Rhonna at the Nomad Inn. 'Last package!' she announced to no one in particular. 'Oh wait, I know. I'll just give it to her on my way in, tonight. It would be nice to have a chat as well,' she thought pleasantly. 'Have a nice, warm meal. Maybe some more o' that "Maize Pottage"! Then back to that room with the pillow for a niiiice comfy sleep.'

Her stomach grumbled at her cantankerously then, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything at all since she'd left that morning. She'd planned on taking her midday meal, well, around midday -- but she realised it was long past that now. As she wasn't far from the city's cultural district with its bits of greenery and many benches, she decided to head there for a break.

She spent the following half hour eating quietly next to a large fountain, enjoying the occasional mist the light breeze caught from it from time to time and threw against her cheek. She watched a group of children playing at some sort of game a short way off between her little bench and the huge arena that dominated the central portion of the district. All of them were carrying small child-sized bows, reminding her of her childhood with the other young children of her village, her friends, her family. She fought down a heart-wrenching twinge of remembrance then, reminded for the hundredth time that she would see those people never again, ever. The irrevocable finality of their departure, and the poignancy of the void their absence left in her, were stupefying.

Her eyes narrowed in thought as she considered that night and her subsequent descent to Cordor, where she'd hoped she would somehow find... what, exactly? An army, willing to trek up to the Arelith Forest and eradicate an endless horde of undead on her word? A powerful arch-wizard, willing to do the same with his omnipotent magic? Indeed, her purpose, vague enough to begin with, seemed even less decisive now that she'd spent some time here and of necessity thrown herself into the survival game of the day-to-day, rather than focusing on finding aid to stop the threat in the north. Instead of answers to her dilemma, what she'd found was a large, frenetic city bustling with anonymity, and a priest who'd given her the misguided advice of cloistering herself away in service to some inane deity of shiny holy trinkets or whatever it was these humans found so terribly significant to their lives. She'd been here for several days, she realised, and had made no progress at all.

Just then, the children who had been playing began shouting and arguing heatedly with one another. There were six of them she could see, apparently separated into two groups of three. It looked as though the two sides disagreed as to whether one group had beaten the other in some sort of contest. Dacia quickly finished the last of her meal and walked over to join them.

'There, then, what's all this about, boys?'

The boys grew silent at her sudden appearance. Eventually one of them spoke up guardedly. 'Who're you?'

'Ah, sorry ; I'm Dacia. Who are you ?'

'We're the Grill Gang!' declared a small black-haired boy after a moment's hesitation, but with no lack of bravado.

'N ye'd best mind yeself, 'cause we're the toughest there is on this isle!' another added with a menacing grin.

'Yeah, cause we grill anyone's done bad by us like a buncha meat on a spit! ' a third boy piped up. Dacia forced a wide-eyed frown in response and drew back from the boys, in order to stifle the grin that threatened to burst out at any moment.

'Caw, says you!' countered one of the boys from the other side. 'Don't you listen to him, missus. We're the toughest! And smartest! We're the Demons of Skal 'n we destroyyyyyyy any what gets in our way!'

'Hmmm... I bet!' she agreed readily. 'You all certainly seem very fearsome. I shan't cross you, that's for certain.'

The boys seemed quite pleased at this, a few of them beginning to adopt somewhat exaggerated postures as a result before she continued. 'But it sounds like you all are having a bit of a disagreement over something, am I right? Is it over who's strongest?'

'Naw, it's Nate. He's out,' replied one of the Grill Gang.

'Is not!' and 'Am not!' chorused the Demons in response. 'You lot never even touched 'im!' A volley of 'Did too's and 'Did not's ensued until Dacia broke in.

'Touched him? What, with the Ar'athel, you mean?'

The boys looked at each other blankly, then at Dacia. 'The what?'

'The Ar'athel? It's what you boys are carrying, you know, that thing you're shooting with.'

'Ohhh! You mean the bows!'

A few of the boys nodded and said 'yeah, 'at's right', while a couple of the other boys laughed at her. 'Ar-whatsis?! You don't even know what a bow is, do you?'

Dacia looked at the boys nonplussed. 'Uhm, boys? You all see that stick-y sorta thing hangin' off my back?' Carefully she reached around and unslung her bow, then strung it up, much to the admiration of several of the boys, who now crowded around her with exclamations such as 'Wowwww! Lemme see it!' Several reached out toward it, touching it, or even grabbing it roughly. As it was even taller than Dacia herself, it stood fully twice as tall as most of the boys in the group.

'This is an Ar'athel -- a real one. Or, as you all in the land of men call it, a "bow".'

One of the Demons scoffed. 'Ours is real too. Just smaller. Cause we're smaller, yeah?'

'But smaller don't mean nicer! ' cut in one of the other Demons, his eyes mere slits as he answered her back.

His companion quickly agreed. 'Yeah! We may be smaller, but we're still very dangerous! '

'Yes, I see that,' agreed Dacia, nodding her head solemnly.

'The problem is Alfred there actually hit Nate, but Nate won't go out.'

'But 'e didn't hit me! 'e was a mile off!' argued Nate vehemently.

Dacia cut in once again. 'Hang on, hang on. Now, I see your Ar- ehm, your bows. But where are your arrows?'

The boys looked solemnly at the ground or at each other, before one of them spoke up in a small voice. 'Our mums say we can't have arrows yet, on account of it's too dangerous.'

'Ahhhh!' replied Dacia, understanding the crux of the problem. 'So Alfred shot Nate with one of his imaginary arrows, but Nate managed to dodge it. That right?'

'Don't be silly!' chastised one of the Demon boys. 'Nobody can dodge arrows! Alfred just missed, plain 'n simple!'

Of course this statement provoked yet another round of conflict between the two groups, until Dacia quietly placed her hands on two of the boys' heads, distracting them from their argument. 'I've got an idea, then. I think I know of a way we can make this work.'

'Oh yeah?' asked one of the Grill Gang. 'How?' asked another.

'Well. When I was about your age, I was very much into inventing new ways to use my bow. Some of my inventions were quite successful, too. Others... well, not as successful,' she added quicky, 'but it was always fun, regardless of how it turned out. For example, I once thought, "wouldn't it be grand if I could hit things hiding behind trees and such when I shot my bow?" '

'Wow, really?'

Dacia nodded affirmatively. 'You bet! And you know what? I invented a new type of arrow! I made it curved, and I placed the fletching at an angle. It was absolutely stunning! And I was sure my new arrows would be the talk of the village, I'd spent a lot of thought on 'em after all.'

The boys' eyes shined in admiration. 'And you could use 'em to shoot around trees?!'

'Ehm... well, no ; that was one of the ones that didn't work, actually.'

'Ahhh!', 'Boo!', 'What?!' and 'at's stupid!' replied the boys variously, quite obviously feeling irritated as though she'd pulled one over on them.

'But as I say,' she quickly added, 'I made plenty of other inventions that did work. And that's what I'm going to do for you today.'

'Yeah? How're you going to do that?'

'I'm going to make you some special arrows that'll always let you know if you've hit your mark.'

The first Grill Gang boy looked at her with consternation. 'But our mums...'

'Don't worry,' reassured Dacia, 'your mum is quite right. But the arrows I'm going to make for you aren't normal arrows ; as I say, they're special arrows, made just for you. And as long as you use them carefully and correctly, they'll be perfectly safe.'

Having outlined what she had in mind, she immediately got to work. Picking two dozen arrows out of her quiver, she set about cutting each one in half with her skinning knife, gathering the half-shafts with the heads into her quiver afterwards. She then thinned the fletched halves right down and, for good measure, carefully scored the shafts with horizontal cuts to increase the air resistance. Finally, she affixed gobs of sap firmly onto the ends where the arrowheads would normally be, rounding them into Pufferfish as she did so. 'There we go', she announced finally, 'done.' She handed each boy four arrows, adding 'now you'll be able to tell if you've actually scored a hit or not, see? The sap will leave a mark. And these arrows are light enough, you won't have to worry about hurting your friends. As I said, as long as ye use 'em correctly, they should be perfectly safe.'

The boys greedily accepted the arrows she offered them and began fitting them onto the strings of their bows.

'Even so', she continued, 'you must never, under any circumstances, aim for yer friends' heads! Above the shoulders is off limits! Understand?'

'Yeessss', the boys all replied in unison.

'Right then,' she concluded, satisfied. 'Off ye go.'

At her urging, the boys all ran off, laughing and shouting impromptu strategies to one-another until they'd all but disappeared around the curve of the monstrous arena.

It was now well into dusk, and the colours of evening began to impose themselves subtly upon the day's warmer glow. 'It would be nice to take a walk where there's a bit more... life... before heading back,' she thought, reminiscing about the forests and the fields she'd left to come to this great city. She hadn't felt well here within the city walls, and it would be good to be outside for a bit on such a fine day.

Carefully, she gathered up all of her affairs and set out for the city's northwest gate. It wasn't long before she'd navigated around the arena and its many stalls and kiosks and, arriving at the gate, she hurried through. She suddenly felt freed at last from the frenzied and claustrophobic environs of the city, taking in the vast expanse of green before her. Even if the fields were somehow governed by man in a way, it was still nature, she reminded herself. Happily, she ventured out farther from the town gates, toward a thicket of trees a way off.

She hadn't taken 10 steps when she froze in her tracks. They were hard to see at that distance, to be sure, crouching down low in the tall grasses as they were, but the pair of small humanoid creatures several dozen yards off couldn't hide from her keen senses. She wasn't quite sure, but they looked a bit like the creatures the town guards had described to her earlier that day : goblins! The creatures seemed to have spotted her as well, and began chittering excitedly. Indeed, two of them began running toward her even now.

'Well, I haven't got a soup ladle, but I do have this', she thought, dropping her delivery bag and unslinging her bow again. 'Should be able to get this sorted quickly enough, I reckon', she added confidently.

A high-pitched whizzing sound followed an instant later by a dull *thump!* in the ground from an arrow landing mere feet from where she stood were enough to let her know that there were more goblins farther out as well. Dacia quickly nocked an arrow of her own, aimed at the closest goblin, and let fly -- and missed, to her dismay. 'Damn!' she cursed, her anxiety mounting as the small creatures closed the distance between them. She shot (and missed) one more time before the closest goblin was upon her and she had to discard her bow, drawing her longsword in readiness for hand-to-hand combat. 'Right', she thought, 'as the man said, "one good hit's all it takes" ' and swung at the noxious little beast with all the force she could muster. Unfortunately, it blocked her blow and lunged at her in return, slashing at her viciously with its small axe before she could raise her sword arm to fend off the attack. Tremendous pain rent her side as the blow cut deeply into her with a force she felt couldn't possibly have come from such an insignificant creature only half her size, and blood began to pour out plentifully from the open wound. A brief moment later, an arrow pierced her shoulder. Moaning in agony, she swung hard at her nearest assailant -- who stepped nimbly out of the way, dodging her blow. Dacia withdrew, trying to back out of range of the archer, but her hopes were quickly ended when the third arrow struck her thigh. The profusion of blood was enough to let her know the shot had severed an artery. 'Damned... f---ing... archers!' she swore, falling to her knees, feeling suddenly weak.

The nearer goblin jumped repeatedly up and down a short distance away, leering and laughing in triumph, enjoying her pain as her blood gushed profusely from the deep wounds they'd inflicted. She felt dizzy ; the world about her was beginning to blur and lose form. All at once, for some reason she thought of her elder brother En'ri, a successful hunter and master archer, and the time he'd spent an entire afternoon trying to teach her the finer points of archery when she was young. 'You couldn't hit a millennium tree in broad daylight at three paces if you had all day to do it!' he had summed up finally at her repeated failures.

'He was right, of course', she thought bitterly as she collapsed to the ground, her slowing blood pooling beneath her as her vision began to fade. 'But... a goblin?! I...' were her final, incredulous thoughts as the light of the living dimmed from her eyes, her breathing ceased, and the pitiless, unending cold crept through her still, quiet frame.

Post Reply