Well, my fellow worm wranglers. I have another story about an Elven Heroine in the making. Her name is Miss Tea and she is of the huntress persuasion.
Miss Tea is rather young for an elf. She's from Feywood where our very next fishing hot spot will be detailed. The Feywood elves are rather a suspicious lot, indeed. But I will tell you of them when I tell you about the grand fishing of the Feywood docks area.
Now I saw Miss Tea several times before she would talk to me. You see she is rather shy and me being a huge human six foot + giant must have frightened her somewhat. To get her to calm down long enough to have a good talk took some time, patience and a pleasant smile. After all it works for fishing; Well, all but the pleasant smile.
When I finally got to meet Miss Tea; Boy! did we have a wonderful conversation. You see She is getting ready for her grand trials of Feywood. It's a test she told me all young elves have to do before they are inducted as an adult in their society. Rather barbaric if you ask me but then again, I'm not an elf. Now since Tea was a wee girl she had been training for this very test. She studied and was mentored and went through all kinds of ceremonies safely in the comfort of Feywood lands. When she came of age some several centuries. I'm not sure how many. She was tossed to the winds to start her field work. They were nicer than my parents. My mother kicked me out the door of her ship rather rudely Then said, "Good luck and don't die. If you do, we'll come back and put flowers on your grave." I think I still have her shoe print on my butt.
So, First I will tell you about what these trials are all about. They are tests of skill, Temperament, and Wisdom. Personally, I think wisdom is overrated unless it involves knowing what a fish in a stream is going to do before they even know it. Ah-ha! I bet you are wondering just how I do that! A potion of owl's wisdom really helps. Now if you want to be a healer or gardener the tests include plant lore. That is wonderful. I'm a vegetarian so have that pretty well down pat. I would be kind of dead if I couldn't identify and use plants. Is gardener an actual profession? Really? Well, I'm thinking there must be a lot of elves that are also vegetarians too.
Miss Tea being a hunter doesn't have plant lore in her tests (At least that's what her elders told her.) Elder's tend to always spring the most perverse surprises on you in testing. She will be tested in Archery, Aminal handling, sharp eyes, And in her words, "That my brain connects with my head, mouth, hands, feet." Meaning is she wise enough to use her skills for the benefit of others. And now she is in the vast world perfecting her skills so that she may be inducted into the hunters of Feywood.
She told me of her disappointments first. She tried to tame a rabid dire tiger, but she failed, and it attacked her with claws as big as sabers and teeth jutting out of its mouth the size of small spears. A knightly man by the name of Shalthal helped to fend the great beast off. The beast only gnawing off a small part of her shoulder. She was lucky.
Then she found an evil witch in the local graveyard. She was short, scary and smelled of dead rotting flesh. I hope it wasn't mother. Na, Mom's away galivanting wherever dragging dad in tow to satisfy her carnal instincts. Poor Dad. I may not see him again. But then again, he signed up as an adventurer in his youth and that's what you get when the craziness of that life consumes you. Oh yes, Back to Miss Tea and her wicked witch.
The witch wanted her to go into a dark and dusty tomb filled with the necromancies of a thousand Thayvian mages. Tea knowing how evil and vile the witch was with the palpable darkness surrounding her and knowing that the witch really wanted to turn her to evil and become her lovely apprentice refused! A grand battle erupted from the graveyard. Miss Tea shooting her arrows, one after another and another to disrupt the evil witch's spells (I really hope that witch wasn't a puggy half-elf with red hair). Tea disrupted her again and again but at last the witch got off a spell and all went black for poor Miss Tea.
She woke up chocking on dirt in total blackness. Tea clawed inch by inch always up to freedom and air. Her nails breaking on stones, her lungs gasping on what little bit of air she had. She worked her way up until her fingers found the surface, air and freedom. She began frantically digging for the last of her air was running out. She felt cold and dizzy still she moved her hands. At last, her head and mouth breaking the surface she gasps clean air and freedom from the shallow grave she put Tea in. Most likely to dig her up later and turn her into a zombie minion.
Tea had failed to do away with the witch but later after a few days she came back to speak with me. She told me the witch was finally undone and dead. Tea had ultimately won the conflict and undid a creature of vileness and evil.
In Training for her trials Tea also told me she has had some success. She has been able to tame the local wolves and ever sharpens her archery skills on goblins and kobolds. So, Miss Tea is on the road to becoming an authentic Heroine of the island. Perhaps when you visit the island and start your fishing foray you may see the little elven girl with a great long bow carrying a string of quail and rabbit. It just may be the legendary ranger Miss Tea hunting for her family and tribe.
On the off not I told Miss Tea of a curse that my mother's elders bestowed on our own tribe. She asked why I was not preparing for the time the curse takes effect. I told her I do for the curse is steeped in sorcery and sorcery is required to get through it. Until then I will live life not thinking about it. It's unavoidable so why worry. Live every day like it's your last to be enjoyed to the fullest.
She had the perfect aphorism: "Don't worry about what you cannot control. Concentrate on what you can." I do believe Miss Tea will pass her wisdom test with flying colors.
Brath Vail
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Winterhawk99
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Winterhawk99
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Re: Brath Vail
Ah; yes, my Tackle twisting Troubadours, I have something new for you. Poetry from a most likely source.
You see I recently met a very large man covered entirely in heavy plate mail. You know the type. Put them in a giant steel box. Give them a six-foot sword and tell them the enemy is across the field. Then they will run that way drooling, slobbering and screaming out war chants until they disappear in the distance...........or find something to kill.
What would you know that one of these giant hauberks of havoc would know poetry of all things. So, I give you Jiztroyir Miqrohoru A Kralshaman of the Hellshire Clan (whatever that means), and his poetry from a distant past. Jiztroyir is so big that not only could he be in the shield wall: He could be the shield wall. He also has a handsome voice to boot when he sings his poetry. A lovely booming bass that resonates deep down in your soul. The lady's all coo when he speaks. So here we have it.
A Secret Forgotten
By Jiztroyir Miqrohoru
A Place of Mystery
For a visitor of the island's history
Much gnawed bones
Do not speak of vaulted tomes
The pages possessed
That still lay at rest
For the teeth of Elves
Sought the strength of mind over matter
Not the matter
The monks took to mind
High up above
Where mountain of iron matches the clouds
That rain
Did live the monks who did train
Their screams of fear
Nevermore to hear
But frozen in terror
Did the elves do without error
Always be wary
of the Tel'Mordere
For the Qui Vive (Not I)
Saw only their last eve
After Jiztroyir finished his poem he told me, "For many it is nothing more than a place of bones and curiosity. A broken bridge to the past: A bridge to the past broken and bare.
I dont think Jiztroyir likes elves very much. So that was his poem. Very tragic. very tragic indeed. Perhaps I'll hire one of the local adventurers one day to track this place down and see for myself. Or maybe a small army of adventurers. One can never be too cautious you know.
I also must make a retraction to a chapter before where I mentioned 4 murderous miscreants led by the Red Wizard Seth. They said they did not murder the fair elf. So perhaps I got ahead of myself but then again Who would trust the word of a Red Wizard. Even if they didn't! They are up to something. Red wizards always have some nefarious scheme up their sleeves and down their robes. I will update everyone about this story with the continuation of my book.
You see I recently met a very large man covered entirely in heavy plate mail. You know the type. Put them in a giant steel box. Give them a six-foot sword and tell them the enemy is across the field. Then they will run that way drooling, slobbering and screaming out war chants until they disappear in the distance...........or find something to kill.
What would you know that one of these giant hauberks of havoc would know poetry of all things. So, I give you Jiztroyir Miqrohoru A Kralshaman of the Hellshire Clan (whatever that means), and his poetry from a distant past. Jiztroyir is so big that not only could he be in the shield wall: He could be the shield wall. He also has a handsome voice to boot when he sings his poetry. A lovely booming bass that resonates deep down in your soul. The lady's all coo when he speaks. So here we have it.
A Secret Forgotten
By Jiztroyir Miqrohoru
A Place of Mystery
For a visitor of the island's history
Much gnawed bones
Do not speak of vaulted tomes
The pages possessed
That still lay at rest
For the teeth of Elves
Sought the strength of mind over matter
Not the matter
The monks took to mind
High up above
Where mountain of iron matches the clouds
That rain
Did live the monks who did train
Their screams of fear
Nevermore to hear
But frozen in terror
Did the elves do without error
Always be wary
of the Tel'Mordere
For the Qui Vive (Not I)
Saw only their last eve
After Jiztroyir finished his poem he told me, "For many it is nothing more than a place of bones and curiosity. A broken bridge to the past: A bridge to the past broken and bare.
I dont think Jiztroyir likes elves very much. So that was his poem. Very tragic. very tragic indeed. Perhaps I'll hire one of the local adventurers one day to track this place down and see for myself. Or maybe a small army of adventurers. One can never be too cautious you know.
I also must make a retraction to a chapter before where I mentioned 4 murderous miscreants led by the Red Wizard Seth. They said they did not murder the fair elf. So perhaps I got ahead of myself but then again Who would trust the word of a Red Wizard. Even if they didn't! They are up to something. Red wizards always have some nefarious scheme up their sleeves and down their robes. I will update everyone about this story with the continuation of my book.
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Winterhawk99
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Re: Brath Vail
//OOC I will eventually split Brath’s stories and books from his experiences sometime in the future for others to read. This would not be in his book.
Webbed hands breach the surface of the water. A head raises above the surface. It is the face of an Alu’Tel’quessir. His skin is a silver green color. He has ruddy auburn hair, and his eyes are a striking color of silver. The Aquatic elf lifts himself upon the shore in the secret grotto. It is hard to get to and why he has chosen this place to make his home.
To get to it you must be able to swim a distance underwater through caves and tunnels. When you surface you find yourself in a small area along the grey mountains above the Wyrmlake. Here is his sanctuary from other beings.
The elven gets on his hand and knees. Pain starts to wrack his body as bones change form. They lengthen and thicken. His delicate elven ears grow smaller and rounder. He whimpers as the change takes hold. His skin turns an olive of a desert nomad. His eyes change to a brilliant blue. He grows from a 5ft stature to a 6ft’4 giant of a human. When done he rolls over on his back.
He rolls over in a cold sweat and looks up at the stars. “Where are you two, I wonder. Krynnspace? Nirnspace, Greyhawk? What crystal sphere are you investigating to bring our people to a safe place? Are you using the song mother? You must be. It’s the only way to bring them too you. A song I must use soon.
Brath thinks of the things ahead when he sings the song. What if she comes? What if she doesn’t What will it be like? Mother never told him. The History of the world according to his people the Irda is a song powerful in magic. It will be carried by the wind to the far corners of the realm he now lives in. If she hears it. She will join in his song and come to him.
What bothers him most though is not the trial after. Not the savagery of the curse. Nor the high sorcery they will use upon each other to subjugate the other in their mating curse. What bothers him worse is that she may not come. She may not hear. Worst still. He may be the last of his kind on Toril.
Brath sighs at the thought. Mother and father said they would look on Toril last. He knows it was for him to get through his ordeal. Still there are so few of the high ogres left spread across the worlds and the astral plane. How many? No one knows. The valin has done its job. His people still survive and still linger here and there across wildspace, the astral, and the crystal spheres.
He has already made his choice. He loves all the people of Toril. He will stay after he has done his duty. Mother was angry. His stepfather just nodded in understanding. For now, he must wait until their return maybe in a decade, score or century of years. That’s if he gets through the valin alive.
He gets up and retrieves a pile of books and notebooks from his tent. Rifling through them he takes out a set of very old books. As he opens them one would notice it is a language not even known on this world. It looks more like sheets of music rather than a language for high ogres use tones as well as words to communicate. He studies refamiliarizing himself with the ancient text and the spell used to carry it across the winds of a nation.
Webbed hands breach the surface of the water. A head raises above the surface. It is the face of an Alu’Tel’quessir. His skin is a silver green color. He has ruddy auburn hair, and his eyes are a striking color of silver. The Aquatic elf lifts himself upon the shore in the secret grotto. It is hard to get to and why he has chosen this place to make his home.
To get to it you must be able to swim a distance underwater through caves and tunnels. When you surface you find yourself in a small area along the grey mountains above the Wyrmlake. Here is his sanctuary from other beings.
The elven gets on his hand and knees. Pain starts to wrack his body as bones change form. They lengthen and thicken. His delicate elven ears grow smaller and rounder. He whimpers as the change takes hold. His skin turns an olive of a desert nomad. His eyes change to a brilliant blue. He grows from a 5ft stature to a 6ft’4 giant of a human. When done he rolls over on his back.
He rolls over in a cold sweat and looks up at the stars. “Where are you two, I wonder. Krynnspace? Nirnspace, Greyhawk? What crystal sphere are you investigating to bring our people to a safe place? Are you using the song mother? You must be. It’s the only way to bring them too you. A song I must use soon.
Brath thinks of the things ahead when he sings the song. What if she comes? What if she doesn’t What will it be like? Mother never told him. The History of the world according to his people the Irda is a song powerful in magic. It will be carried by the wind to the far corners of the realm he now lives in. If she hears it. She will join in his song and come to him.
What bothers him most though is not the trial after. Not the savagery of the curse. Nor the high sorcery they will use upon each other to subjugate the other in their mating curse. What bothers him worse is that she may not come. She may not hear. Worst still. He may be the last of his kind on Toril.
Brath sighs at the thought. Mother and father said they would look on Toril last. He knows it was for him to get through his ordeal. Still there are so few of the high ogres left spread across the worlds and the astral plane. How many? No one knows. The valin has done its job. His people still survive and still linger here and there across wildspace, the astral, and the crystal spheres.
He has already made his choice. He loves all the people of Toril. He will stay after he has done his duty. Mother was angry. His stepfather just nodded in understanding. For now, he must wait until their return maybe in a decade, score or century of years. That’s if he gets through the valin alive.
He gets up and retrieves a pile of books and notebooks from his tent. Rifling through them he takes out a set of very old books. As he opens them one would notice it is a language not even known on this world. It looks more like sheets of music rather than a language for high ogres use tones as well as words to communicate. He studies refamiliarizing himself with the ancient text and the spell used to carry it across the winds of a nation.
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Winterhawk99
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Re: Brath Vail
Brath taps his fingers on the rock next to him while thinking. He feels saddened by what had just happened then speaks to no one musing on what occurred. “So only 6 months and someone sniffed me out. Drasta, you have no idea what I must do now. Mom isn’t going to be happy about this. My failure to stay concealed. I need to think on better names to use as cover.
Brath thinks back to a few days ago. He had been diving for pearls as an aquatic elf. No one usually comes to the Wyrmlake and when they do he backs off to the cave he was living in as far back sometimes as the waterfall. Brath was rare for his kind in that he had a love for people and their stories but even he must take time for himself. All Irda do whether they like it or not. Solitude was their prime existence and one which each relished more than being in public, even him.
Seeing no one on the beach he surfaced and made a sandwich for the afternoon to rehash his own studies for the night in his mind. That’s when Drasta came out of the shadows and started to question him and what he was doing here. He said his name was George fumbling over the words for a quick name. George being a human name Drasta didn’t think for a moment it was true. His bluff failed him.
When she left, he was quite relieved and thought he had gotten rid of her for good, but it was not to be. The very next day she showed up while he was counting pearls along the shore. He had fled to his secret place, and she followed him. Showing up in the grotto not far behind.
Somehow, he just knew that he would never get rid of her or her curiosity, so he came clean. The two of them talked and Brath found out that Drasta called upon her Fey patron, Oberon. He appeared as a strange very large satyr. While they were all talking, Brath threw a magic crystal into the water by the falls. He already knew what he must do, this was the first step. The crystal dissolved in the water and there was a soft glow that sprang up along the grass and water in the area. After a minute the glow subsided to a glimmer. That glimmer could be seen from space and told every spelljammer passing by that the spot was a safe harbor for small craft and lifeboats being that nothing bigger than a damselfly could land in the spot.
While Oberon, Drasta and he were talking Brath shape changed into his human form feeling somewhat safe now that Drasta knew he could assume other forms. Unfortunately, and unluckily for Brath Elvalith, cloaked in invisibility had been watching them and showed herself. Now two people knew about Brath. He knew he had no way to go but away from the island he had found so many stories and so much fun fishing in. He waited for them to leave and quietly packed his things.
After that he went to town buying large quantities of rations and hauling them up to the lake and to the cave. He set them just at the waterfall entrance of the system for any spelljammer needing rations. Now he waits patiently for the right one to come.
In the weeks to come several lifeboats did stop and resupply with water and some of the rations. Mindflayers were the first, then Orcs, Dwarves and Elves. Several human lifeboats came he listened carefully to those while invisible for names. None were the ones he wanted. So now he sits and waits for the right ship to land, watching the skies and hoping it’s not his mother’s ship.
Brath thinks back to a few days ago. He had been diving for pearls as an aquatic elf. No one usually comes to the Wyrmlake and when they do he backs off to the cave he was living in as far back sometimes as the waterfall. Brath was rare for his kind in that he had a love for people and their stories but even he must take time for himself. All Irda do whether they like it or not. Solitude was their prime existence and one which each relished more than being in public, even him.
Seeing no one on the beach he surfaced and made a sandwich for the afternoon to rehash his own studies for the night in his mind. That’s when Drasta came out of the shadows and started to question him and what he was doing here. He said his name was George fumbling over the words for a quick name. George being a human name Drasta didn’t think for a moment it was true. His bluff failed him.
When she left, he was quite relieved and thought he had gotten rid of her for good, but it was not to be. The very next day she showed up while he was counting pearls along the shore. He had fled to his secret place, and she followed him. Showing up in the grotto not far behind.
Somehow, he just knew that he would never get rid of her or her curiosity, so he came clean. The two of them talked and Brath found out that Drasta called upon her Fey patron, Oberon. He appeared as a strange very large satyr. While they were all talking, Brath threw a magic crystal into the water by the falls. He already knew what he must do, this was the first step. The crystal dissolved in the water and there was a soft glow that sprang up along the grass and water in the area. After a minute the glow subsided to a glimmer. That glimmer could be seen from space and told every spelljammer passing by that the spot was a safe harbor for small craft and lifeboats being that nothing bigger than a damselfly could land in the spot.
While Oberon, Drasta and he were talking Brath shape changed into his human form feeling somewhat safe now that Drasta knew he could assume other forms. Unfortunately, and unluckily for Brath Elvalith, cloaked in invisibility had been watching them and showed herself. Now two people knew about Brath. He knew he had no way to go but away from the island he had found so many stories and so much fun fishing in. He waited for them to leave and quietly packed his things.
After that he went to town buying large quantities of rations and hauling them up to the lake and to the cave. He set them just at the waterfall entrance of the system for any spelljammer needing rations. Now he waits patiently for the right one to come.
In the weeks to come several lifeboats did stop and resupply with water and some of the rations. Mindflayers were the first, then Orcs, Dwarves and Elves. Several human lifeboats came he listened carefully to those while invisible for names. None were the ones he wanted. So now he sits and waits for the right ship to land, watching the skies and hoping it’s not his mother’s ship.
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Winterhawk99
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Re: Brath Vail
After several months the right ship finally came. I was prepared with supplies but sadly not mentally. The captain herself greeted me after reading the Koshet I had left at the natural lifeboat pad. Her name was Anel. She explained to me that someone was expecting me in a village on my forefather's home world. It is the words that every male Irda dreads.
We talked all afternoon and into the night. She would not tell me of her experience. neither would her first mate S'rk. It was decided we set off the next morning. It was decided that we should set off the next morning at sunrise. I will miss Thain. I will miss Lapis Port where I grew up and I will miss the world of Toril. One day I may return. Perhaps not. The winds of fate ever change as you live life. If I survive the next few months, then I will settle on the continent of Ansolon. It's a very dangerous place for one such as I. Both ogres and sorcerers will be killed if found out. I must be careful. I will take council with my great grandmother Diviner. Hopefully that will help.
I could always stay in that little village in the desert. I would be protected by the cliffs surrounding it as others of my kind have for thousands of years. However, I am ever the wanderer. Ever Curious. I wish to know this new home and so I shall. As I step on the ship, I look out at the lake one last time. Sadness fills my heart for the past, excitement for the unknown future.
We talked all afternoon and into the night. She would not tell me of her experience. neither would her first mate S'rk. It was decided we set off the next morning. It was decided that we should set off the next morning at sunrise. I will miss Thain. I will miss Lapis Port where I grew up and I will miss the world of Toril. One day I may return. Perhaps not. The winds of fate ever change as you live life. If I survive the next few months, then I will settle on the continent of Ansolon. It's a very dangerous place for one such as I. Both ogres and sorcerers will be killed if found out. I must be careful. I will take council with my great grandmother Diviner. Hopefully that will help.
I could always stay in that little village in the desert. I would be protected by the cliffs surrounding it as others of my kind have for thousands of years. However, I am ever the wanderer. Ever Curious. I wish to know this new home and so I shall. As I step on the ship, I look out at the lake one last time. Sadness fills my heart for the past, excitement for the unknown future.
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Winterhawk99
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Re: Brath Vail
As Brath wakes up, he feels a searing pain all over his body. He is laying in a bed with most of his body bandaged. His arms and legs are in casts. There is a tall green skinned woman with black hair looking over him. Her silver eyes look familiar, yet he can’t seem to place them. He tries to move. A pain unlike anything he has experience stops him. His muscles go slack, and his body seems to sink further into the bed cushion.
“You are awake finally. We almost thought we had lost you.”
“Where? Where am I?”
“You are in a small village deep within the plains of dust. Tarsis is to the northwest. A small elven kingdom is to the northeast. Our village. The village that your grandmother Aiauta was born we call it Missenvale. It is a valley inside a stand of cliffs. The cliff walls are covered by illusionary magic to make it look uninviting to adventurers, armies or anything else. You are Brath are you not?”
“Yes, I would nod but it hurts too much.”
“I am diviner, Farmer. Your great grandmother and leader of this enclave. I am sorry for your ordeal. She broke your legs and arms to keep you with her. She also drained most of your sorcery and all of your wizard abilities. You put up a fight though. Luckily you were much stronger than her magically. You survived.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know. The question is: What do we do with you, now? You cannot stay here with her in the village. She could not bear seeing you with what she has done. And you probably will not want to see her with what you have done. It is just how the curse works Brath.”
“Will I ever get to see her…… or him?”
The Diviner smiles, “It will be a boy. He will be taken care of and raised in the village proper. Her mother has little sorcery. She never developed her gifts much. If your son wishes we will have others teach him to his true potential. Now that you are here on Krynn what do you wish to do? As I said, it would be best that you leave so that your mate and you may find some peace. There are several enclaves of our people. They are hidden from the rest of the world and live in relative peace. You could wander the lands, but I caution you. Sorcerers are killed when found. So are our people. You will have to be very careful.”
“I’m not ready for this conversation.”
“Yet you must think about it, Brath. If you go out into the world. You must be able to hide your true self, always and never let your guard down. I’m sure your mother taught you this? I have seen that you like to write stories. Perhaps instead of once again delving in wizardry perhaps an entertainer. In this way you can hide your sorcery.”
“I’ve been taught to hide since I was a small child, Diviner. I will most likely want to see what this world of Krynn has to offer. Perhaps in the days to come I will get back to my old happy self again.”
“The Valin changes you, Brath. It changes all of us. There is hope though that you will get much of it back. I warn you though. The people of the world. They are barbarians. Some are degenerates. Far too long our family has been attracted to humans and elven. Please consider this if you think about taking a mate from these people. They are not our people. They know not our ways and even an elven mate will wane and die before you even reach middle age. Your grandmother's mate was human and so is your mothers. Look for a good woman among the enclaves. It will be better for both of you this way.”
I will not tell you where they are. But you may find them if you look.”
“I need to rest now. The pain is intense.”
“I am sorry. We do not follow the gods so have no healers among us. You will have to heal in the old ways, but I understand and will leave you to rest……. And to think of your future here.”
The Diviner stands and walks away with the grace of a high ogre. Something Brath has never seen before being his mother was so clumsy even for human standards. He is slightly in awe of her retreat. Once he is all alone, he sleeps and dreams.
“You are awake finally. We almost thought we had lost you.”
“Where? Where am I?”
“You are in a small village deep within the plains of dust. Tarsis is to the northwest. A small elven kingdom is to the northeast. Our village. The village that your grandmother Aiauta was born we call it Missenvale. It is a valley inside a stand of cliffs. The cliff walls are covered by illusionary magic to make it look uninviting to adventurers, armies or anything else. You are Brath are you not?”
“Yes, I would nod but it hurts too much.”
“I am diviner, Farmer. Your great grandmother and leader of this enclave. I am sorry for your ordeal. She broke your legs and arms to keep you with her. She also drained most of your sorcery and all of your wizard abilities. You put up a fight though. Luckily you were much stronger than her magically. You survived.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know. The question is: What do we do with you, now? You cannot stay here with her in the village. She could not bear seeing you with what she has done. And you probably will not want to see her with what you have done. It is just how the curse works Brath.”
“Will I ever get to see her…… or him?”
The Diviner smiles, “It will be a boy. He will be taken care of and raised in the village proper. Her mother has little sorcery. She never developed her gifts much. If your son wishes we will have others teach him to his true potential. Now that you are here on Krynn what do you wish to do? As I said, it would be best that you leave so that your mate and you may find some peace. There are several enclaves of our people. They are hidden from the rest of the world and live in relative peace. You could wander the lands, but I caution you. Sorcerers are killed when found. So are our people. You will have to be very careful.”
“I’m not ready for this conversation.”
“Yet you must think about it, Brath. If you go out into the world. You must be able to hide your true self, always and never let your guard down. I’m sure your mother taught you this? I have seen that you like to write stories. Perhaps instead of once again delving in wizardry perhaps an entertainer. In this way you can hide your sorcery.”
“I’ve been taught to hide since I was a small child, Diviner. I will most likely want to see what this world of Krynn has to offer. Perhaps in the days to come I will get back to my old happy self again.”
“The Valin changes you, Brath. It changes all of us. There is hope though that you will get much of it back. I warn you though. The people of the world. They are barbarians. Some are degenerates. Far too long our family has been attracted to humans and elven. Please consider this if you think about taking a mate from these people. They are not our people. They know not our ways and even an elven mate will wane and die before you even reach middle age. Your grandmother's mate was human and so is your mothers. Look for a good woman among the enclaves. It will be better for both of you this way.”
I will not tell you where they are. But you may find them if you look.”
“I need to rest now. The pain is intense.”
“I am sorry. We do not follow the gods so have no healers among us. You will have to heal in the old ways, but I understand and will leave you to rest……. And to think of your future here.”
The Diviner stands and walks away with the grace of a high ogre. Something Brath has never seen before being his mother was so clumsy even for human standards. He is slightly in awe of her retreat. Once he is all alone, he sleeps and dreams.