A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands

Book 2: Chapter 18: Value

The Wood Elves, or the Musenvane in their own tongue, are known by many different names. The Warders of the Woods, the First Children, and the beloved of the gods, to name but a few. Theirs is an existence shrouded in mystery and what little is known of them is found only in the most ancient and archaic of texts. Once upon a time in ages past, or so it is written, they were guardians of an ancient prophecy and the instruments of a divine will.

- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.

Kidu's belch echoed loudly, turning heads from the surrounding groups. The unexpected display prompted our charge to release a few gentle peals of laughter. However, she hastily stifled the sound when met with his glare. Once the momentary disruption has passed, I thought it was a good time to find out more about the Half-Elf.

“So, Larynda,” I opened, taking great care not to call her child or any other diminutive, “I am a man of honor, and rest assured, no matter your answer, I ensure that you will safely reach your destination. Still, I believe Kidu and I have the right to understand exactly why Hamsa sent you off with us on a journey to the city of Al-Lazar, wouldn't you agree?"

She blinked a few times, stunned for a few moments at her current reality before she finally replied, “Old Ham said it was better I am not in a city where they catch children and foundlings to sell off as slaves. One of the free cities is a better place ‘e said. Al-Lazar is famous around here parts for being the birth spot of Alchemy, they says. Said I could learn some fancy new stuff there. That or he just wanted to get rid of me...”

“But what are you supposed to do once you get there?” I asked, a little perplexed and confused about her situation. Out of the corner of one eye, I saw a few lines of concern appear on Kidu’s otherwise impassive granite face.

“Ol’ Ham, he was right different ever since you plodded into the shop…” her voice began to break, but she gathered herself, and continued, “I should probably join the Alchemy guild down there, he said. Find me a new master to pester and that sort o’ thing. But me, I’s thinking instead I’m gonna be an Adventurer! You get to do all sort of wonderful things! You get a nice badge too!” she piped.

I shared a look with the large man who, with a small shrug of his shoulders, was able to convey what a hundred words could not. Choosing a career based on an accessory was impulsive and foolish, but truth be told there was a little weight behind the badge. The impression I had gotten from Darcen Tsend, the Guild Master from Ansan, was that the Guild looked after its own. There was also the fact that there had been an elf in the Guild, which led some credence to the organization being able to provide a measure of protection. On the surface at least. According to the eccentric alchemist, she had other mysterious backers. Still, her joining the guild certainly would not be detrimental.

In this world, wielders of magic were relatively rare, and having someone on hand to cast a few spells for me would be rather convenient. With this in my mind, I decided it would be best to support her dream.

“That is a wonderful aspiration. To that end, I think it best that you focus on your training with Kidu. Being an adventurer is filled with great danger, and the ability to protect oneself is paramount,” I pronounced, as solemnly as possible, trying to sound wise.

“Gilgamesh speaks truth, little one. But have no fear, for I see that you have a little of the Way about you. And, you learn quickly for one so young,” the large man added, giving credence to what I had just said.

I gave her some time to let my suggestion seep in, and looked over the child as she absorbed the words that helped validate her childish dream. Hamsa had the right of it, steering her away from the dangerous profession. It was, of course, doubly dangerous for one so young, but I would use what I could to wring any advantage I could. After a moment, I could see that the idea had wormed its way successfully into her easily influenced mind.

“Yes, it's a great idea isn’t it!? I’ll just have to be a lil’ bit stronger. Oh, and don’t you worry, I’ll show you what I can do with my magic, just wait you see!” she beamed, enthusiasm radiating from almost every pore. She stopped, lost in thought, then looked askance at me, “But I’ll probably need to find a group and no one will…” she left the last hanging like laundry waiting to be picked off the line.

“You could of course always join up with us,” I coughed, feeling for a microsecond that things were slotting into place a little too easily. Shrugging away this foreboding, I saw that, upon hearing my offer, her face broke out into a wide sunny smile.

Kidu simply snorted before adding, in his usual manner, “You would be a vast improvement over our last member.”

Larynda looked down at the remains of her food at this, as if lost in thought. My own thoughts had grown dark over the mention of Elwin, the suddenness of his departure still casting a long shadow over my mind.

Out of the corner of one eye, I saw a small shape work its way toward us. It was a small girl clad in the way of the caravan. She wore flowing clothes, cinched with a purple sash and a white headscarf that framed an Asiatic face, complete with a button nose. She was of an age with Larynda and I could not help but compare the two of them. She was the picture of seriousness as she formally bowed to us before asking if she could gather our used dishes.

She was quiet and reserved, seemingly a direct reflection of her upbringing. In contrast, Larynda's silence felt different - it was born out of some form of reticence. I got the sense she was hiding something significant from us.

With the meal over, I decided to ask the half-elven child another question, “So tell us a little of your life back in Ansan.”

The girl child's face grew pensive and she looked lost in thought for a few breaths. With a sigh that had no place coming from a child, she told us her tale.

It was a clichéd and simple tale, though no less tragic for it, common to many of the young and vulnerable. An unknown father, and an even more mysterious mother, both of which abandoned her into the care of one of the local shrine, was the start in life that she had been given. Even then, the girl had been content for a while, at least until her ears began to give clues to her origins.

As is the nature of bored children, she had taken to exploring and hiding in every nook and cranny of the shrine. First it was out of play, a game to pass the time with her friends, who almost could never find her. Then it became an escape, a way to find reprieve from the switch that the adults of the shrine were always too free to employ.

In a forgotten alcove above the portly priors office, she once overheard a most disturbing conversation. She was to be sold into slavery, the heritage of her blood a rare and valuable commodity. The exchange was to happen soon. A determined Larynda made her escape, deciding that a life on the streets was better than a life in chains.

During those formative years, she would run with various child gangs and urchins, stealing from the markets or from traveling merchants. Every day was one of calculated risk, as they tested themselves against the law in Ansan. The penalty of theft was harsh.

As time passed, the older and luckier members of her group would find themselves employed in low positions to the rich and powerful of the city. She would sometimes call out to them when she saw them about the city, but they would shroud themselves with indifference, as her calls were a painful reminder of the lives they once led. The truly ill-fated ones, children that the gods and this primitive society had forgotten, merely disappeared without a word. Gone like morning mist, without utterance and without a trace, leaving behind a growing hole that ate away at her heart.

It was then, just as she began to know true despair, that she would have a fateful encounter. Dezra, her friend, had developed a hacking, persistent cough that refused to go away. As the days passed, this cough morphed into a deathly rattle, leading to Dezra's pitiful end, drowned in her own blood. As she held Dezra's rapidly cooling hand in her own, she looked around their den and acknowledged that this existence was no life at all. Living this way amounted to nothing more than a slow death.

Driven by desperation, she knew she needed to find a way to better her circumstances. It felt much like escaping the shrine - a dire situation that demanded drastic measures. She had to evolve beyond petty pickpocketing and shoplifting. She needed to make a significant score, a life-altering one that would change her current course.

Fortune smiled upon her when one of the street urchins discovered that there was an alchemist in Ansan who stocked the rarest of herbs and alchemical supplies. These materials were highly valuable and in great demand. According to Sepfan, a boy who had eavesdropped on a conversation between two dubious adventurers, the shop was deceptively rundown from the outside. Inside, however, it housed a treasure trove of rare and marvelous potions, which the oblivious alchemist was selling for a mere fraction of their worth. The unsuspecting old man didn’t realize he was sitting on so much gold.

The two adventurers had been plotting to raise money to purchase his entire inventory and resell it for profit. Her group needed to act swiftly if they were to seize this golden opportunity.

Quickly staking out the Alchemy shop, the group decided that it was an easy hit, the exotic treasures within easy to fence. However, things were not to be, for the Alchemist had been a far cry from an easy mark. Using a cloth laced with a swift acting soporific, the surprisingly fast and dexterous old man caught the child as she was searching through his things. After forcefully administering a strong and bitter antidote, Hamsa gave her a long lecture about stealing, once she had suitably recovered her wits.

Tied to a chair, she feigned rapt attention, for she thought that her life was in peril. Larynda had heard the stories. Whether she lived or died depended entirely on the whims of this old man.

Much to her surprise, after he finished his tirade and lecture, he retreated to the back of the store and vanished for some time. She desperately tried to escape, but the knots binding her were expertly tied, leaving her no chance of loosening them. The old man returned carrying a small plate of food and Larynda's stomach churned at first, with unease. Then came a rumbling of a different kind. Thinking it possibly poisoned, she tried to resist the temptation of the proferred food. However, it was the first solid and warm meal that she had seen in a long time and the smell was irresistible. In the end, she relented.

This single act of kindness and forgiveness, not to mention the interesting things within the rundown store, drew her to visit Hamsa’s shop time and time again. Helping about the store, the Alchemist noticed that she had a sharp and inquisitive mind. Soon enough, the old man began instructing her in the basics of alchemy. It also helped that he would always give her food served on chipped and worn crockery, filling and wholesome nonetheless.

They grew closer together as time passed, and she spent a few happy and loving years under Hamsa’s care as his ‘apprentice’. That was until, of course, the Alchemist had caught word that there was a group looking for a young half-elven girl of her description.

Hard as my heart had grown, I could not deny that I felt a little sympathy for her situation. However, there was now the shadow of a group that was actively hunting for our new charge. Did I really need yet another bunch of people chasing after me? I had to weigh the utility of a magic user on the team against the increased level of threat. It was certainly food for thought.

I ruminated over her little tale as I let my stomach settle. Rising, I gave the girl some clichéd words of encouragement, and as a group we walked back to our wagon. We gave the girl some privacy and the time to see to her bedtime preparations. We made our own preparations for the night as well. Kidu, predictably, was soon asleep, his snores quickly filling up the space of the wagon. Annoyed, I took the first watch, waiting for Larynda to go to sleep. In between the animal snores, I thought I could hear the occasional sad sniffle before, finally exhausted, the girl found sleep.

Kidu's rasping snores began to grate, forcing me to leave the wagon, back into the cool of the night. The stars had come in their full regalia but the miserly moon shone only with a fraction of her light. Looking across the camp, I could see the torches of sentries as they moved around the perimeter, stopping here and there as they guarded against whatever was out there on the plains. With nothing to do and time on my hands, I stepped out into the night. I walked around, taking care to stay within the ring of the guarding light.

A sentry passed me by, and even in the poor light, I could see he was well-equipped. He had a fine chain mail coat and stout kettle hat with a flowing aventail running down the sides of his neck. A mean-looking curved blade, probably a scimitar, was at his hip. He nodded deferentially to me as he passed, the sounds of his armor a mild clank in the night - a picture of professionalism.

It was time to meditate and practice, to explore the inner halls of my potential. Sitting cross-legged on the grass, I began to review what knowledge I had been able to gather from the damaged book the traitorous Elwin had bestowed upon me. My mind pondered on the meaning of the arcane symbols, trying to find some of their meaning. I felt that they represented some sort of higher form of mathematics, but their true meaning eluded me. Larynda’s seals had been interesting, but again, without a teacher or frame of reference, I could not even begin to decipher them. Suffering from the lack of the basic fundamental principles of magical theory, I could only grind my teeth in annoyance.

Without any further recourse, until at least I got my hands on more instructional material, I had to make do with more practical application and practice. I let go of the energy that was waiting for my command, letting it loose in a torrent of black joy.

Entropic Aura burst from me, and the sibilant voices that accompanied it exulted in joy as the waves of malignant raw energy pulsed from me. With Mana to spare, I wondered what other spells I could unleash. There I found it, bounding to the forefront of my mind, the dark spell of Decay. Pointing a finger at a patch of ground, I drove the spell towards it. I could feel that there was resistance from the living grass at first. It was but a trifling thing, weak, like it was holding up an umbrella against my storm. Soon enough, Decay’s energy intertwined with the pulses of Entropic Aura, the black tentacles of rot combining with the waves of raw entropic energy caused the grass to wither and die. I knew then, on an instinctual level, that my Entropic Aura empowered my other spells. This sudden understanding caused the sibilant voices in my mind to jump with glee in affirmation.

I needed to test another spell from my dark repertoire. No, I needed to stop thinking of my gifts in such a way. There were tools to be used, not good nor evil. Not light and not dark. They were simply a source of my power.

However, my Mana had dropped considerably between the two spells and I felt that it was time to replenish my reserves. With this mind, I returned to our wagon, opened the door and stepped in as quietly as I could. Metal armor is not conducive to stealth, but thankfully the pair within did not notice me.

Scanning the darkness, I heard, more than saw, the presence of Kidu, who had fallen into a deep sleep. The sounds of his slumber were like a blunt saw cutting at a stubborn tree. Once my eyes had adjusted to the gloom, I could see that the half-elf’s small chest was gently rising and falling, and she was sniffling miserably, even in her sleep. I cast Identify on the girl to determine if she had recovered from the rigors of the day.

Larynda - Chaos Mage (Human/Elf lvl.5) Health 31/32 Stamina 14/22

Mana 7/19

I theorized that the girl must have some sort of Mana Regeneration skill and Rest skill similar to my own, which would explain the fast recovery of her Mana. I would wait a little longer before my next experiment, as a way to gauge just how fast her Mana recuperated.

I waited for perhaps two hours or so, relieving myself in a bucket, halfway through my watch. Feeling that the time was ripe, I cast Identify again on the girl. Thankfully, the spell did not stir her from her slumber. Looking over her Status again, I saw that she had recovered another two points of mana and three points of Stamina. She had stopped sniffling, and her breathing sounded shallow and even. Sure that she was in the tightest embrace of sleep, I cast Drain on the unsuspecting girl. The threads of the spell, like Decay, intertwined with my Entropic Aura in a concert of sinister energy.

The magic of the spell enthralled me for a few long moments. Too alluring and seductive it was, its call a siren’s song demanding more than I was willing to give. A fragment of my mind rang alarm bells, crying out a reminder that I needed the girl child alive to fulfill the quest. Shocked at myself, I began to reel in my powers, cutting off Drain and the sweet energy it brought to me. Next, I brought Entropic Aura to heel, the spell whining in my head with its displeasure

Panting, with almost feral lust, I could feel the life energies flowing within me. Remembering my purpose, I quickly scanned Larynda with an Identify.

Larynda - Chaos Mage (Human/Elf lvl.5) Health 26/32 Stamina 11/22

Mana 5/19

My mana was now just one point shy of full, and I could see that, as expected, hers had dropped by a few points. My spell, however, did perfectly transfer the stolen energy to me. Despite me being at full Health, the girl had lost some of hers. I guessed that the energy was just wasted, lost to the ether. To Entropy.

A scared part of me wondered at how long I had been seduced by my own spell’s influence? It could have been minutes or seconds. The use of the magic had warped my sense of time. More importantly, I had missed the opportunity to measure the rate at which I could drain Mana and Health.

What happened if I continued to use Drain when my Mana was at full? I could only assume that the energy would be lost. There was only one way to find out. As I was thinking these very thoughts, I could have sworn I heard the sibilant voices chittering with glee.

I was playing with these thoughts until guilt gnawed at me, for I realized that I had probably crossed a line. Fearful that someone might have witnessed my act, I looked around and noticed that one of the shutters was open. I edged closer to it, taking care to not wake my companions. Looking outside, I saw nothing, and convinced myself that no one had seen what I had done. Gratefully, Kidu was still asleep, and Larynda's chest was continuing to rise and fall in a regular pattern.

Softly, I closed the heavy shutters of the wagon, thankful that the hinges were well oiled and did not produce a screech. Wishing to repair the possible harm I caused and to assuage my guilty feelings, I readied myself to use one of my most expensive spells, in an apology.

An angelic choir started to sing, wanting to trumpet out their voices. I denied them, merely allowing their refrain to echo in the halls of my mind as I forced the divine energies to take shape with my Silent Casting skill. Though the musical symphony of Greater Heal could be denied, its holy light could not, and a golden light filled the wagon. It was this bright light that finally woke our bleary-eyed Hunter, who clutched his spear in surprise. The lights played around us, filling the wagon with a surge of healing.

Finally, when the spell was over, I felt mentally exhausted. Drained of Mana, but washed clean of my sins. I looked at Kidu, who looked positively alert in the dimming golden light, the shadow of tiredness and constant stress having fled from his body, thanks to the power of the spell.

“It is a good thing that you have done. This journey will be tough for us who have seen more winters, but tougher for the girl. This will keep us in the best of conditions, of this I am sure. Do not strain yourself too much… I will take up the watch now,” he insisted, gruff voice commanding.

“I will have to take you up on your offer,” I returned gratefully. I took off my helm and crumpled into a soft corner of carpet. At least someone appreciates me, I thought to myself.

You have gained 1 Wisdom

Smiling weakly at the Hunter, I saw him nodding to me as I began to close my eyes, trusting in his vigilance and thankful that he had completely misunderstood my motives. Sleep came easily to me that night as, finally, I had made some progress.