Born a Monster

Chapter 67

Chapter 67: Born A Monster, Chapter 67 – Laralathla

Born A Monster

Chapter 67

Laralathla

I could write of the many wonders I saw in the alvan wood; suffice to say it was faewood, cultivated and used by multiple breeds of fae descendants.

“Look!” said Katherine. “That one has an arm of wood!”

“I would say it’s a glove, but yes, I agree it seems too thin.”

“Ancient Lifeshaper techniques.” Explained our female guide. “That woman was born without a right arm, so one was grafted to her. She’s never known another arm.”

.....

“Are they singing to that tree?” Katherine asked.

“Woodsong. It’s a way of getting lumber without harming the tree.”

“I thought the alves used sawmills, like the rest of the civilized races.” I said.

The male turned up his nose. “Our need for lumber exceeds what we can get from spellsongs alone. We do what we must, and plant two trees for each one we must harvest.”

“No wonder alven woods grow over the years.” Katherine said.

“Indeed.” The female said. “You may also notice one of our scrying pools on the left, and a pottery class for our children over here on the right, next to the one for carving stone and bones.”

“Every child learns the basics of Nature magic, to which all true elves are attuned, and any others they care to open access to.” The male added.

“What happens to alves, born without the attunement to nature?”

The sister lowered her eyes. “Such non-elvish children are donated to other species.”

“It is not something we alves like to talk about.” The brother said. “Anyway, each alf is taught the ways of wood and bow, of hunting and foraging, and other skills to survive on their own.”

“In case they care to go wandering beyond the eaves of the forest.” Sister said. “We do want our children to survive, even if we acknowledge we cannot always protect them.”

“And the exiles?” I asked.

Brother snorted. “We care less whether the exiles survive or not, so long as they never return.”

“Ah, here we are. These lanes here are where archers train. We will leave you in the care of that man, whom you may call Genshadras.”

“Ginshadreas, if you please.” His ears flipped around full reverse. Was THAT what people saw when I looked over my shoulder? A sense of “that shouldn’t even be possible”? No wonder the number of comments I’d gotten.

“Ginshadreas, my name is Rhishisikk.”

He turned. “I thought you were human.”

Katherine covered her mouth, and succeeded in not laughing.

“I am a Truthspeaker sworn to the service of the human Guild of Guardsmen, Porters, Drovers, and Linkboys in Narrow Valley.”

“And humans accuse us of having long and unwieldy names.”

“Rhishisikk is considered unwieldy by them as well.” I said.

“Ha! Well spoken. You two may go, I’m not going to kill the child out of hand.”

Brother and Sister left us. Me learning their names is not part of this story.

“So, I hear word that you have business with my younger sister. You will understand if I am protective of her.”

“I mean her no harm; I merely desire to request a favor.”

“In exchange for what?”

“Brother. This is my matter to resolve. Please trust me to resolve it in the manner you raised me.”

#

Laralathla was hardly a head taller than I myself was, and had the appearance of a young teenager. In spite of this, I knew that I had asked for a skilled bowyer. Skilled means quite a deal more to alves, who measure their hobbies in terms of centuries, than to men.

She began to lead us away from her brother.

“Don’t bother to introduce yourself.” She said. “Our hearing is quite a bit better than you are used to dealing with. So I am curious, why do you even want one of my bows?”

“Lady Laralathla, I seek a quality bow and spear to give to the centaur champions of those events.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ve said as much in your earlier missive. Need not be magical, need not be made of special materials, must be made to the strength of a centaur. So please, just answer the question, why must such a bow be of alvish make?

“The alves are known for their quality and rarity among the centaur tribes. If the centaur are to assist us in this matter, they will require some manner of prestige or respect to further their positions within their clans.”

“And why do you need a centaur, let alone two? Surely you know they are a dying breed, doing their best work on the level plains. What good are they in an urban area?”

“They can aid us in our approach, and help to cover our retreat.”

She squinted. “You would use a dying people as your shield? Use their own culture, their legacy of heroism against them? What manner of monster are you?”

“He’s the kind of monster willing to go on this foolhardy quest and see it through.” Katherine said. “I won’t pretend he’s nice or pure or perfect. Hells, the money he’s using comes from Uruk.”

Laralathla waved a dismissive hand. “The source of his funds was known to me before he disclosed it in his letter.”

“My point is, he’s actually got a plan. A plan that could work. And when it does, do you want the name Greywood spoken of as a contributor, or as the people who refused to help?”

I saw in her face the instant she decided against us. “I care not what mere humans think of us. When the Dragon of Wands came to burn the First Wood, where were the humans? Oh, that’s right. My brother got to see them standing hip to shoulder with goblins.”

“How dare you-”

I touched her elbow. “Katherine, please. Let her finish. Let us provide this meeting with the courtesy it deserves.”

Anyone who has studied the relations between alves and humans knows about both sides of the litany, a list of offenses going back over two thousand years. I stood silently, and listened, and learned.

Humanity.

Just another group of monsters.

#

“Laralathla, I understand your reasons, and your refusal to set aside a painful past. Thank you for the opportunity to hear of this refusal from your own lips, rather than a cold and impersonal note.”

She shook her head. “Your words are well considered, but you are no friend to the alves. Be gone from our woods by dawn.”

“If it is possible, we shall be departed from your lands by that time.”

Laralathla waved a hand to indicate we were dismissed.

“What in the nine hells was that?” asked Katherine. “We came all this way to be told off by a child?”

“That child,” I said, “Is well over a hundred years old. We’re not going to be changing any of her attitudes.”

“So why are we here?”

“She wanted us to come here and be told, in public, that we are not receiving any support from the alves of Greywood.”

“In ... public... I think I see.” Said Katherine.

“Neh. Clearly you are not seeing. Not well in the dark, anyway.” This last came from a being I had mistaken for a dog, but who came up onto his hind legs as he spoke. “The alves think like glaciers. Their plan is to let the humans fall, and then fight the hordes on the plains of the centaurs. A plan not without merit, mind you, but not all of us agree with it.”

I nodded. “Which do you prefer? Should I introduce us, or ask what aid the Domug peoples are offering?”

“Well, I heard your somewhat long-winded introduction, and if such things matter to your people, my name is Gand, son of Vela, daughter of Renn.”

“Thank you, Gand, for your name.”

“Neh a problem. And as for the aid, we the Domug people offer yeh none. Not one person will be responding to yer letter. If any Domug, say a litter of scouts, is found mapping and surveying in yer area, then rest assured they are not there to assist ye in any way.”

“I understand your position, Gand. It is truly regrettable that none of your people will be involved.”

He extended a hand, palm up. “We’ll be wanting the agreed payment.”

I set six golden coins onto the ground. “I have given you nothing.”

“Oho! Indeed, indeed. And good doing business with you. If the litter were to happen to stop by Narrow Valley, which inn should they stay at?”

“Lady Katherine, do YOU know of an inn you would recommend?”

“Indeed. I think I know just the place.”

And so, having thus been turned down by both alves and domug, we collected Dempsey (apologizing to the baker of pies whom he had found) and left by the route we had come in at.

We foraged briefly, but were able to make camp by the stream.

#

“Did you know that was going to happen?”

“Only the part with the Domug. I honestly expected a quest or something from Laralathla, something risky to benefit the alvish people.”

.....

“Honestly, how do elves get their reputation as a civilized people? All I heard from that little kid was vehement hatred.”

“Of the two times I’ve suffered physical torture, both have been at the hands of humans.”

“Both? Aren’t you just over a year old?”

“And roughly half that amount has been in service to the Guild. Who, now that I think about it, has been responsible for those incidents.”

“And those are the people you’re risking your life for again and again?”

I shrugged.

She took a sip from her bowl. “You are insane. Hells, I’m insane for not heading home just now.”

“If you want, I’ll tell people I paid you ten gold coins.”

She snorted. “I just saw you get yelled at by a little girl. I’m paid for at least another day.”

“So good to know I have motivated companions.”

That sent her into laughter, and I joined her.

A litter of six domug just happened to camp across the stream from us. In the morning, they loudly lamented about a lost bow that they could not find, and they prodded the river with a well-made spear which, regrettably, they dropped and had to abandon as well.

Katherine discovered an oilcloth parcel under some suspicious leaves, while I took a short swim and recovered the spear. The spear was of exceptional quality, and while the marks it bore were not ones I recognized, they were clearly elvish marks.

“What fortuitous finds.” Katherine said.

“I know. So sad that Greywood declined to help us.”

We sped along the path, just happening to meet up with the domugs from earlier.

“Friend domug!” I shouted.

“Ah, friend lizard thing. What can we do for you?”

“We find ourselves on the way to the human town of Narrow Valley.”

“Indeed? We happen to be on our way to that very place.”

“Let us travel together, then. The wilderness is always safer in large groups.”

“Well,” he scratched his chin and looked at his fellows, “that hasn’t exactly been our experience, but you seem as likeable people. I suppose we shall risk betrayal, and travel with you.”

Our companions were Deek, Swift Paw, White Nose, Mark, Zara, and Snowflake, in the order they were introduced to us. While it doesn’t fit into this narrative, there were many stories, both cautionary and amusing.

Most of our companions were just Scouts, but Swift Paw and Zara were Rangers, and Snowflake enjoyed conversing with Black Snake.

“There is no darkness in her soul, but I like her anyway.”

“Well isn’t that just a warm fuzzy.” Snowflake said. “You’re okay, too, for a creepy patch of shadow.”

But meeting awkwardness aside, it was a pleasant five days back to Narrow Valley.

There, we met Cantiope and Mentelome, who were most pleased to receive their weapons.

“Oh look, aspected to air!” exclaimed Mentelome.

Cantiope was equally pleased. “And mine to earth. It’s as if they were tailor-made for us.”

All we needed now were Philecto and his companions, and we could begin our quest.

#