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Rated: ASR · Fiction · Fantasy · #421742
What will the escapees do now?
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Question for Debate

"Who are you, anyway?" Torin asked, breaking the silence.

"I am Neira."

"Noo - what?"

"Nuh-ree-ah," the half-elven woman corrected him absently, continuing to work on starting a fire.

"Oh. I'm Torin."

"Mmm."

Torin sighed, letting silence creep over their little campsite. He finally stood up and began to pace.

A snake of smoke drifted up and Neira began to smile. Then Torin walked by, breezing the beginnings of her fire back into ashes. "Do you mind?" she snarled, standing. Pointing imperiously to one side, she ordered, "Sit down."

Torin took one look at her furious face and obediently sat. Bored, he began to tear apart the pinecones setting nearby. He stopped, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the half-elf's glare.

"Can't I do something?" he asked.

"No!" she snapped. "Sit still and be quiet."

"If he's too much for you, I can always spell him to silence."

Neira leaped to her feet, drawing the dagger she'd taken from the soldiers.

Alton held up a hand. "Easy, girl," he said. "I will not harm you."

"H -- who are you?" Torin stammered.

"Alton, at your service," the little halfling said, bowing.

"He's a holy man," Neira told Torin. "He helped before."

Alton tossed a small bag to the half-elf. "Here, try these, might make a fire sooner than what you're trying." He looked back at the elf. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Torin," he replied, gazing in wonder at the little man who stood no taller than his elbow. "What are you?"

Alton smiled. "I happen to be a halfling. A priest, I might add. And I happen to be just what you need right now." He turned back to the half-elf. "No, no," he corrected her, "Hit them together."

Neira frowned at the two rocks she held, but did as the priest instructed her. To her surprise, a small spark leaped from the contact, dying away in smoke on her tiny pile of kindling.

Alton smiled as she tried again. He hefted the pack from his back and began sorting through it.

"What do you mean?" Torin asked.

"Well, I don't suppose you've had anything to eat, have you?"

Torin shook his head.

"Well, look no further. I have, in this pack here somewhere, the ingredients for a fine meal."

"Which will probably be helped by this," Lin said, stepping into the clearing. She tossed a brace of rabbits before the startled priest.

Neira snarled as the ensuing breeze blew out her hard-won fire.

"How did you find them?" Lin asked, sitting down beside the halfling.

"I, my dear, am most familiar with these woods. I merely followed their trail, then listened for the racket they were making."

Lin grinned. "Most observant of you. Did you happen to run across any soldiers?"

Alton shook his head. "No, I waited until they pulled up camp before following you. Clever, to lead away that woodsman. A few more minutes and he would have heard these two, no matter the trail."

Nodding, Lin murmured an assent. "What delayed you in returning to the town?"

"I heard about the declaration and hid. Them soldiers are always after us priests to go to war for them. I knew I would be the first to be 'volunteered.'" He grimaced in dislike.

"They were very angry," Torin said. "Why did you not want to fight?"

"All priests are trained to do certain things," Alton answered. "I in fact am a cleric, a healer, you might say, among other things. I have no wish to bind the wounds of war."

"Why this war?" Lin asked. "I have not heard of any quarrels between this land and that of the elves. Surely in my travels I would have heard something."

"You said you entered this realm from the east, correct?"

Lin nodded. "Yes. My Circle is far North-east of here."

"Then you might not have heard," Alton murmured. "Well, as I heard it, the elves have themselves been lately attacked, by another tribe, one that has dwelled quietly underground for centuries, since their last great defeat. No one knows who they are, but they have already destroyed the Elven army and are marching on the capitol itself. This land, and the kingdoms to the west are arming for battle."

"They would attack all these nations?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. There is ancient enmity between these two tribes. They may be content to destroy their brethren, but the kings hereabouts have no wish to be surprised. You, my young friend, have chosen an ill time to visit."

Torin swallowed. "But we overthrew the Drow a millennia ago," he protested. "Why would they attack us now?"

"The Drow?" Alton echoed, leaning forward in his interest. "Do you know of these elves?"

"Everyone knows of them," Torin said. "They conquered half of this continent almost fifteen hundred years ago. They only stopped because of a massive drought and famine that struck. That's why Javhol is a desert now. Some say --"

"What?" Neira interrupted, looking across the fire at him. "Javhol is no desert, boy! Are you mad?"

"But, but it is!" Torin protested. "From the land of Ikeinan in the North to Uly in the South, stretches a desert such as would cause the gods themselves to cry, 'Alas, what have we done?'"

"A pretty piece of poetry there," Alton murmured, "but there ain't no desert there."

"And I should know," Neira said fiercely. "For my people inhabit that land."

"If something that devastating were to have happened, I would know," said Lin.

"But it's true! I've heard stories of its happening all my life!" He frowned at Neira, staring crossly back at him. "And no one has ever lived there."

"I don't see how you can be so certain of such a thing," Alton said, "but we cannot discount your word, even if it so contradicts what we ourselves know."

"We are for Javhol," Lin said, nodding in agreement. "We will soon know for sure."


{c}"Chapter 14: BattleOpen in new Window.
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