by M J Sweeney
The elves had a particular dislike of orcs and asura, also called cat-folk, but were on better relations with the lupus, wolf or dog-folk, and the vinar, the ape-folk. They were mostly neutral about civilised humans, but were on unfriendly terms with the human barbarian tribes to the north.
We did not see any bandits, but I did tell them of my encounter on the southern road with Drognad, so my patrol checked out the spot. It looked as though the two bodies had been dragged off by wolves, so we tracked the remains. They had been eaten a short distance away. From there, we also tracked the wolves further up into the hills and found their cave. We did not disturb them, as the pack was small. I was told that the number of wolves in a pack was important, but had to be balanced against other factors and other predators. Sometimes they were culled if a pack got too large, but usually nature did that for them anyway, so they left well alone where possible. Strangely enough, it seemed that packs of wolves would attack wargs, but only if they had the advantage—wargs were twice as big and twice as nasty.
I enjoyed my time with these men, elves or not. I liked the outdoors, moving around with a purpose and seeing the little things. It was also nice to feel part of something and do something good for others. It was a worthwhile job.
On my first week off, I visited my Tree. As I was quite well equipped now, I felt relatively safe. I had also asked the high elf scouts and older soldiers about general conditions in the outlying areas, trying not to give away the specific location when my questions steered the conversation to an area northwest of Ell’Escow and southwest of Geras Anandiel.
I was told that the North-West forest, Telveer Baum, was quite dense, wooded with oak and elm on the outskirts with a cluster of massive sequoia in the middle, some of which also climbed up the ridge of mountains that bordered the territory.
The mountain range was called Gorn Anandiel, home to different groups of moon elves, mountain dwarfs, humans, and apparently more than a few bandits. Beyond that was more sprite territory, then human territory that extended further to the north. There were large elven lands to the south of Escow, some cities by the sea (the most notable was called Asadeena Bay), and to the east, unseelie territory with mountains and dark forests and other ominous locations.
Telveer Baum was considered dryad and sprite territory, so I also asked Maximus about the area. He had gotten over being mad at me, if still a bit wary, and seemed pleased with the end result. It didn’t hurt that he had been happily renovating his new house, and his three wives were happy (Three! Good on the little guy, I supposed.)
I stocked up on travel items and headed out. Only rarely did I need to use the compass, as my inner direction sense unerringly told me where my elas-baum was, and there were few hills and cliffs to bar my way. It took two days to get there, and I encountered no one on the way. I was not inclined to meet anyone anyway, so I kept off the paths, stuck to the densest part of the woods, and rather enjoyed myself. I managed to trap a couple of rabbits for dinner just before leaving and speared a wild boar on the second night. These lasted me for my whole trip, so I fared well. The skies were mostly clear, and it was a lot warmer now, so the stars and moon were nothing short of amazing.
To my dryad night-eyes, the clear colours could vary between flowing magentas and reds when Maor was out, to subtle blues and pinks when Iss or Ei was in the sky. Ei was the largest of the three, seemingly the slowest, and gave the most consistent night-light. Maor, the red and forbidding looking one, was the next largest, and gave interesting displays of colours depending on the angle and time. Little Blue Iss seemed to veritably zip across the night sky, and gave some weird highlights to whichever other moon was shining.
My Tree was great. She was a giant amongst giants. Actually, she wasn’t the largest sequoia present, but she was the most noble (or so I thought). Her trunk was at least four metres wide at the base, with a deep, dark orange trunk and lighter orange limbs and a height of over thirty metres. She was strong and healthy and aware. For three nights I slept in her massive branches, gazing into the night sky and generally doing nothing but thinking deep thoughts and relaxing.
I offered more than a few prayers to the Quadrinity, my feelings more often of late pulled towards Anthul, the singer. On the second night, I felt that deepen. It was a strange sense, but I knew that although he had an abstract side I didn’t understand, he was also a listener who encouraged harmony of life and acted as the defender of ilas-loren (the spirit of life). He was offering me kindness and support in return for my loyalty, so I gave it. There were no bells and whistles, but I knew something had changed.
I realised then why dryads normally travelled so little, as the presence of the Tree was so compelling, calming, and slow. I didn’t think I would have made this decision if I hadn’t been able to stop and slow down and really know what was important. She was like one of those ancient Ents—thoughts that ran like a deep, deep river. Slow, deliberate, and inevitable. Unstoppable. Her roots extended deep beneath the earth; she drew wisdom from earth and sky and was open to all. It was one of those ‘aha’ moments. I no longer cared about playing a ‘game,’ as I felt like I got my soul back. Fuck reality. This was a thousand times better.
The Tree didn’t actually speak to me, not in any normal sense, nor did she have a name. There was just sensing and feeling and acceptance.
I also became fond of the many breeds of birds that visited and nested in her branches. There were song birds in the day, owls at night, and flocks of starlings and parakeets. It could be lyrical at times, but also startling and colourful. They also didn’t mind me when I was in the tree (it was different when I was on land). They would land on my arm or shoulders, tweet or look at me sideways, then fly off. Some would try to nest in my hair, and most would generally shit on me. I didn’t mind. I laughed and clapped when one enterprising little bluebird brought me some twigs and a worm. Clearly he was trying to impress me; maybe he thought I could be a mate. I shooed him off and told him to find someone his own size.
There was no way I was going to ask for a branch to make a staff. It was unthinkable. I’d rather chew off my own arm. I also got to wonder how dryads were born. Although I hadn’t used my interface the whole time I was dreaming in Tree’s branches, I did so now, at the end of my stay.
It seemed that wood elves, male or female, were simply born from the tree itself, from a nut or seed that the tree grew in its heart-place. When the light of the three moons aligned and the favour of one of the Divines shone down, the dryad was hatched, tiny and perfect. Immaculate conception!
The other thing I noticed from the interface was the following notice:
/ Respawn Point Found / Home Bound
When it came time to go, I definitely felt renewed. The Tree accepted that I would need to leave and travel, so she just wished me well and a safe return.
Chapter 9
I spent the next three months training with the patrols. I levelled up three times and was partway to level 9. Although training was a lot slower than adventuring, it was really good at this early stage, as I also got good boosts to my combat and survival skills. The high elf scouts and warriors were good companions—not as aloof as I thought elves might be. Being a dryad helped.
The time spent offering my limited healing and medical skills at the Titus was also useful, as I developed my people skills and medical and healing abilities, and earned more coins. Thank Pol! I managed to save enough to pay for the enchanted staff-spear Alhain was making me, so by the end, I was relatively happy and still flush enough with coins.
We chose the following enhancements:
/ Hill-Spear of Courage / Rare Silver-Steel and Hickory
[+5% Accuracy (silver-steel), +5% Deflection (enhanced hickory), +5% More Damage to Undead and Lycanthropes (silver-steel)] (+10% Implicit Damage for Silver-Steel Weapon Quality)
My stats had all improved. Now that I was aware of the link between my peculiar constitution and increases to strength, I could tangibly feel the effects. As I
trained, increases to vitality made me stronger—an internal synergy between my overall health and improved physical power. It wasn’t much, overall… and although I was ignoring my strength for the most part when I worked out, I was still getting a little stronger. It was still nice that I didn’t look as heavy and strong as I really was, surprising both my trainers and even myself at times.
My class and racial bonuses gave me a really broad spread of attributes—all were actually increasing versus the standard for single classes—which would be just three or four attributes at the most. My luck stat was also improving, and strangely enough, perhaps for the first time in a long time, I actually felt just a little lucky, and bold enough to act on it. It was a nice feeling.
/ Cordaen Sequoia / Level 8 Warrior-Priest /
STR 21
INT 24
AGI 28
VIT 26
CHA 21
LCK 17
Health: 728 (+40%)
Mana: 552 (+15%)
Stamina: 500
During the three months of patrols, some wargs had been sighted again, to the south and west. Most likely they were coming from the Lower Gorn Mountains or from the southern areas. Further south, past the boundary of the elven forest, there were areas with names like Gack-Aranck and Zorb Krisacht, and other evil-sounding environments. I laughed at the titles, but thought it probably wouldn’t be so funny if you were lost and alone there.
In the end, two separate patrol groups were sent out to find them, and guess what? We found wargs. Or rather, they found us. Or me. You’d think the odds would be 50/50 that we’d find the wargs rather than the other patrol group (there were bets on it), but I knew better. The odds were way in favour of us being attacked, with me (a player from Earth) in the group. I had wagered heavily on this fact, and would have likely been bankrupted if I’d lost.
This area closer to the western mountains was not densely forested, so there was a lot less cover, but there were groups of boulders, rocks, bald hills, and other protrusions from the earth. Up on one side was a set of standing stones that I wanted to explore and examine, but the patrol leader refused to delay while we traced the wargs’ spoor.
The first we knew of it was when a scout was being bodily lifted in the jaws of one giant beast. It had leapt from the far side of a massive boulder, bitten the hapless moon elf, and tried to leap away with him in its mouth before anyone could react. The scout was too heavy, however, so this slowed the beast down and two elf-shafts shortly pierced its flank. It snarled thunderously, red eyes glaring, but it dropped the elf and bounded back over by the far side of the boulder.
I had to deliberately restrain myself and not charge after the wargs, much as I wanted to. Instead I did what I was hired for, and ran up to the wounded elf while the squad leader was motioning the five remaining archers to spread out and take cover. The three high elf swordsmen stood ready to charge or guard the archers, whatever was needed. The squad leader drew his sword too.
I knelt by the wounded elf, who was struggling to sit up, groaning and looking wild-eyed. It looked like one arm was broken and he had a few cracked ribs; plus he was bleeding from his back where the teeth had punctured the leather. At least the bleeding didn’t look so bad, with the armour protecting him from the worst of it. I lay my hands on him and activated Breath of Life—it was my more powerful heal, and the only one I could cast on others—then made him lie back down.
I held his arm, quickly removed his vambrace, and then just as quickly straightened the break with a small pop. The poor fellow passed out with that. After smearing some health balm over the break, I bound it tightly with some muslin. I would need a splint for him later on, but left it for now. I could hear snarling and fighting on one side of the boulder now, but couldn’t see around. Not having the time to take off his armour, I smeared some more balm in the tears where the worst of the bleeding was. I then stood up; it was all I could do for now.
I picked up my hill-spear and ran around the side. Action time! There was a swirling melee with two wargs, and the three elven swordsman plus the patrol leader. There was a third dead warg—it looked like a shaft had penetrated its eye—with more arrows in its side. The swordsmen wore elven chain mail, a combination of chain links and leather, crafted in a way to make little noise and minimal encumberment. They wielded long swords and small round bucklers on their arms. Good for defence, but also highly mobile.
The other two wargs each had arrows in them, but they weren’t giving up. They were about chest height, and probably weighed at least twice as much as the elves, if not more. Their bite was certainly large enough to engulf an arm or leg easily, and probably someone’s head if you weren’t cautious. They weren’t standing still either, but lunging and spinning and leaping away and back again. Two of the swordsmen looked injured, with gashes on their arms and legs, but they were still mobile. The wargs were obviously hard targets for the archers, particularly with the warriors in melee; they would have trouble not shooting one of their own, so they were hesitating.
Activating Frenzy, I lunged in between two of the swordsman, my spear taking the beast by surprise and scoring a red line along the top of its muzzle. I had been aiming for the eye, but good enough. It snarled, snapped at me, and spun, but rather than stepping back, I lunged in again, shuffling my feet forward. The warg seemed ready for that and spun to bite me, but didn’t see the upward turn of my spear-shaft as it slammed into its lower jaw, snapping those teeth shut with a clack. Before it could do more than whimper, I was already twisting the spear head in a tight arc and slicing into its ribs, piercing its chest. It drove through with a dull crunch, and the beast went abruptly still. I stepped back and slid out the blade, and it slipped to the ground dead, blood pumping from the wound.
I turned to attack the last warg, but it too was dead, with more shafts and sword slashes scoring its body. The scouts gave a small cheer while the patrol leader checked the wounded. I came over to join him. The first one had deep gashes along his left arm. I laid my hands and applied Breath of Life, then did the same for the one with the leg wound. I was then out of mana, but still felt I hadn’t done badly. The men nodded their thanks, grinning a little as the healing took hold. It did always feel good, like honey and sunshine and a warm bath all at once. When Frenzy ended, I tried to act normal, but couldn’t help bending over a little to catch my breath. The patrol leader looked at me knowingly. We’d trained together before; plus, he had the ability himself.
Once I pulled myself back together, we jogged back to check on the injured fellow. He was still unconscious, but alive and otherwise doing all right.
“Fantastic,” said the patrol leader, clapping me on the back.
“He’ll be okay,” I assessed. “He should wake up soon; then we can get him back to town.”
“Fair enough. Will we need a stretcher?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Once he wakes, he’ll be a bit groggy, but he should be able to walk at a reasonable pace.”
Chapter 10
We managed to get back to town without any further mishap. By the end, the mauled scout was thanking me profusely. I felt a bit embarrassed at the praise, but I guess I had probably saved his life. Sergeant Allih also thanked me and gave me a small bonus in coin. After receiving the coins from the other patrol for our little bet, I was even more embarrassed and half-inclined to refuse, but I resisted. A bet was a bet.
One week later, I said my goodbyes to Maximus, Alhain, and Allih. I promised to return and regale them with stories of my exploits—and in Max’s case, with a lot of zorb to buy more of his stock. He took that promise in his stride, proclaiming—“Premium price only, for real!” I laughed at that pronouncement. Checking over all my gear one last time, I was happy with my survival kit:
Equipped:
Thick (non-chafing) woollen clothing
Journeyman Leather Armour (equipped)
Hill-Spear (equipped)
Hooded elven cloak (equipped)
Clover engraved compass (neck)
Minor Ring of Fire Resistance (finger)
Health-cakes x9 (potion belt)
Health balm x7 (potion belt)
Roll up money belt (2 zorb, 18 dran, 20 jeb)
Backpack:
Oh-shit!-handy trap detector (attached to outside)
Map of local territory (Randain) (outside pocket)
Copper flask—water (full) (outside pocket)
2 small cooking pots
Bag of Holding:
Extra water—two copper flasks
Dried food, salt, tea, sweetener
2 pots, 2 small knives, 2 sporks
Chopping board
Bedroll
Small canvas tarpaulin
Rope and hook
Machete
Pick-Hammer
Small shovel-head
Whetstone and metal-file
Flint and steel
Thin thread, leather thread, sewing needles and small scissors
Spare clothes (2 sets)
Leather Sandals
Stack of charcoal pencils (6)
Sheaf of paper (20)
Once I felt fully prepared and everything nicely packed, I went back up the hill and visited the four shrines, sitting in front of each of the statues. I offered a pink rose to Seti; I liked the combination of thorns, colour, and smell. I put the claw from the rodent-queen in Lindane’s bowl, one of my precious health-cakes on Cylvai’s lap, and for Anthul, I played some music, stumbling through a random collection of chords that I liked—a mish-mash of half-remembered songs from my past.
I spoke to all of them. “I know we haven’t really spoken, and I’m not even sure if this is the right way to do it. But I can be a blunt kind of fellow, and not prone to procrastination. Basically, what you see is what you get. You know, when all of this started, I really didn’t plan on worshipping anyone. And the truth is, I don’t really plan to start now. Yeah… but respect and service, these I can give.” I paused, thinking.