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The Arcane Order |
| Glorfindle carved idly at the piece of wood
in his hands. The fall air around him was crisp and fresh; and the smell
of his campfire put his mind at ease. How long it had been since he was
last able to come out alone into the woods and meditate for any extended
period of time. Something was always going on and he had been very busy
since joining Tel'Mithrim.
His hand worked deftly carving shafts that he would get around to fletching sometime. He took a deep breath and let it slowly out. He was at peace yet still acutely aware of the figure moving towards him slowly in the woods... |
| The shadow crept slowly between the trees
toward its prey. Sharp eyes could clearly make out the man by the fire
in the clearing. He could see him working with a knife on a piece of
wood, seemingly oblivious to his presence. The armor he wore looked
magical and the pack that sat beside looked stuffed full. The thought of
what this camper might be carrying brought a smile to his face.
As he crept closer he could see that this man was not a human after all. His features were angular and his ears pointed. An elf? No...he wore a beard as well. A half-elf then. His smile broadened. He would enjoy this immensely. Now only about six yards away from his quarry he paused and hid himself behind one of the immense yew trees. His mind worked for a few moments deciding the best direction to approach from. Mind now made up he slipped around silently to the other side of the tree. Much to his surprise the half-elf was already standing; looking down the shaft of an arrow, pulled back hard in it's bow, pointed directly at him! "Vedui'", the half-elf said. Then was silent staring at him hard. He forced himself to maintain his composure. He forced a slight smile and raised his empty hands. "Well met good traveler..." |
| Glorfindle sighed to himself knowing that his
meditation was about to be interrupted. He listened intently to the wind
to try and determine from which direction his hunter would approach. The
light crack of a branch behind him, barely audible, brought him
immediately to his feet. Glor had his bow in hand and an arrow cocked
just as the figure came into view.
"Vedui'." said Glor. The man before him was tall. just a bit taller than himself. He was obviously of elven blood. His hair was long and dark gray in color. His skin was dark in color. Not dark enough to be drow but darker than any elf Glor had ever met. "Well met good traveler...", the elf said. "I smelled you dinner cooking from quite some ways off and hoped you might spar a morsel for a very hungry man." "Sneaking up on someone because you are hungry is a very good way to be sure that you are never hungry again." Glor replied. "Who are you?" "You can call me Tel'Halda" "Not your real name to be sure...Couldn't you have come up with something a little MORE dramatic?" Glor smirked a bit and pulled back a little harder on his bow string. |
| This half-elf is a clever one, Tel'Halda
thought. In one brief moment he had gone from predator to prey and still
wasn't sure how he had gone wrong.
"Couldn't you have come up with something MORE dramatic?" he was asking him. "I love a good drama. Don't you?" Tel'Halda replied. "We seem to be caught up in one right now." "You are an elf?" "More or less..." "Drow?" His interrogator asked, pulling back further on his bow string. "No!" He shouted back. "I would be happy to share my story with you...If you would share some of that delicious looking rabbit with me." The half-elf stood silent, still keeping his arrow trained on him. "I mean you no harm." said Tel'Halda. "Here." He unfastened his scabbard belt from his waist and tossed his kryss into the clearing next to the half-elf. It was his hope that this gamble would pay off and he might gain the trust of his target. "You have nothing to fear from me." He told him smiling. |
| Glorfindle slowly lowered his bow, keeping a
suspicious eye on his guest.
"Alright then." He started, bending to pick up the scabbard
at his feet. "Come have a seat." As the other joined him Glor handed his weapon back to him. Tel'Halda hesitated, then accepted the weapon with a questioning look. "You wouldn't have much of a chance if you chose to use it on me." Glorfindle said with a grin. The pair sat next to the fire. The autumn winds were beginning to pick up and the warmth of the small blaze felt good on there cold hands. "I am Glorfindle. Cuar of the Ostar tel'Taur, Tel'Mithrim. Now that you know who I am, lets talk about you." They shared the rabbit as Tel'Halda began to relate his tale to Glor. It was rather lengthy and filled with sorrow. Apparently his mother had died during childbirth and no one had any idea who his father was. The fact that his skin was darker than other elves led people to talk and gossip about that. He was basically shunned most of his life. His only family was the midwife who had helped bring him into the world, and who had felt it was her obligation to raise him. She was edan and had died of old age while Tel'Halda was still a child. The time since then was spent as an urchin on the streets of Trinsic until the local guard had forced him to move on. The last few years he had spent scraping together what living he could in Buccaneer's Den. Glorfindle was certain that he had not received the whole story. Tel'Halda was obviously a thief and he hoped nothing worse. He was still VERY young by elf standards. Glorfindle remembered having the same kind of existence this young elf did. Alone and shunned. Something had happened in Tel'Halda's case that had caused him to go wrong. Glorfindle was now hoping that an act of kindness might help bring him around like it had in his own case. |
The
Library Arcane: The Lord of the Dead