The First Eight Arrival to Dare’s Valley
In the air, the chilly wind cut to the bone. The wind crushed any tears out of their eyes and stole their voices. So they did have to learn to control their minds voices. The portal-hopper got the hang of it quickly, his mind-voice was light and fun, filled with sunshine and a strange swell of deep water at the same time.
I think this is great, it’s a little cold up here though! He thought, and others chimed in with variants on ‘it’s bloody cold and dark and terrifying!’
Pirate, holding on to her hat with both hands and swirling madly backwards in mid air, laughed and shouted, “isn’t it awesome!?” Then she corrected herself, mentally saying, Arr, crap, I mean, isn’t this awesome?
She could almost hear the laughter coming from the elves on the bird’s back.
The terrain below was dark, night had fallen fully and the stars were barely visible through an overcast sky. Behind them lay the Hall, and its surrounding swamp. The swampy land stretched for miles in every direction, why anyone would have wanted to put such an edifice right there was beyond everyone, even Talon wasn’t sure why they’d have placed it there. Snowdrift knew, she’d spoken to the Ancient about it at any rate, and they had some kind of reason behind it. Long gone, perhaps the swamp wasn’t there when they’d built the Hall.
Though the whole of the region was bumpy with low hills, there were higher dark portions of the ground which Talon mentally showed were the start of a northern mountain range. They moved ever eastward, the bravest of the elves looked down in awe, able to make out spaces where a river curled from the swamp into the slate-flats beyond, waterfalls that let out into wide, reflective pools. By the time the first hour had passed, the swamp was all but forgotten behind them, and the trees began to show more evergreens and sturdy dry-land trunks. Perhaps their eyes had adjusted, perhaps it was magic that they could all see better now.
Fortunately Pirate was strong enough magically to keep up with the big bird, and she also took the long-haired girl on a quick, terrifying ride hanging hand in hand over the treetops. That at least gave the bird a little break, though he was more than able to lift such small elves.
Are there other birds like this? Asked the First elf, her mind-voice to the point and clear. Talon indicated there were several, but they were not tame birds, nor did many of them seem interested in becoming bond-friends of the elves. The wolves, she told them, were far better companions for the bulk of elfin people.
Those wolves you mentioned, bespoke the second arrival, Are they the ones who are howling?
Talon paused before answering. Fang’s blood runs in the Greater wolves. All the ones who we refer to in that way have elfin shapeshifter blood in them. Fang … wanted me to join them, his harem, I refused. We have taken on several of his bastard wolf-children in the Valley.
They flew on in silence for a while after that.
They did at last reach their destination of the Flats – a series of stone terraces which had a wide, quickly moving and very cold river rushing over them. It looked as though elves had rested here before, because Talon, shaped again as an elf, helped the others down into a shelter below one of the sheets of water and around to a grotto which had a fire pit and several piles of furs.
“Help yourself to the furs,” Talon said, “we replace them every season, sometimes we do leave them here when they’ve become worn otherwise, but most of them are good.”
The welcoming warmth sent three straight to sleep, cuddled in a messy pile with a foot here and hair poking out there. Others remained awake, including the tailor, Eight.
Talon appraised him, and smiled. “You’ll be busy when you get to your new home,” she said. “Clothing makers are always welcome additions to tribes. We’ve got a few, every holt needs a couple.”
One or another of the elves remained awake at least a bit to watch over the others, but everyone was rather exausted. Talon made no bones about it – she’d never been a good flapper, in her own words, she much prefered to ride than to fly herself. But she would continue to do so tomorrow once the sun warmed their aching bodies.
Perhaps they dreamed, odd things about a world forgotten – or even a world they’d never really been in, one which was just as imaginary as any figment or tale. Some were restless. Others absolutely comfortable in their bundle of furs.
By the time dawn had begun to illuminate the grotto, most were already awake but hardly willing to stir. Whose leg was where? Eventually they all pulled apart and in a mess of yawning and stretching managed to greet their first real day on this world.
Unlike the swampland where the Hall stood, this was a bright, fogless morning. Even the clouds had mostly cleared, though there was still a strong hint of snow or chilly rain on the wind from the north. The waterfall which tumbled down in front of the grotto refreshed all of them, though none save the one they’d named Faceplant actually dove into the pool below to bathe. He bellowed something rude about shrinkage and caused a couple of the males to guffaw and joke about it.
Talon sighed, and the other females watched with her as the males dried off and put their hastily created clothing back on. “They never quite grow up, do they?” Talon asked.
“Oh no, I don’t think it’s possible,” said the long-haired one. Pirate giggled, and said something about them never growing up so she could play Hook with them or something.
Perhaps her grasp on this world was tenacious at best, but it was still relatively funny when the guys all looked up together and started clucking about what the girls were saying and why didn’t they join everyone in the pool?
“Not a chance,” said the first female, “when I can have a nice warm bath, that will be when I’ll get clean thanks.”
“So you’ll smell until then?” Asked the grey-streaked male with a grin.
“I smell like roses,” she retorted with similar grin.
“We should all get ready to fly again,” Talon said with a slump. She obviously wasn’t looking forward to really flapping across another day-and-a-half walk’s worth of land. Even if it were only going to be another few hours, it would be trying for her. She mentally sniffed around, investigating each of the newcomers for true shapeshifting magic but found none, only a related ability that wouldn’t cause anything much more than hair or skin color changes, and a flesh-shaper who might try his hand after learning to heal.
So with a tired sigh, Talon re-shaped herself and the group took off again. The terrain this time, not only in the day light but with less cloud cover, was far more spectacular than before. More slanting hills, always going lower toward the coast to the east, all dotted with evergreens and hardy winter-ready trees. The bushes and grasses were dark, still, but there were patches of wood where every tree had already lost its leaves, shot with the lone spare of bright orange and red who was running a little late.
More and more rugged, the land became rich with boulders and heavy bush, obviously filled with game both large and small. The elves dangling from Crossbeak’s talons could see flocks of small birds traveling through tall woods, and brightly colored insects doing the same here and there.
It’s a shame that we can’t slow down and enjoy this trip a bit, thought the long-haired female, her voice much stronger than the other females’. The others agreed, for the landscape was showing off more and more interesting things. Not just in the terrain, but there were animals they could make out among the trees, and in meadows. Even one tall long-necked reptile glanced their way as they passed overhead – it was in no danger of being hunted, it was two or three times the size of Crossbeak!
“Woah what was that?!” Yelled the tailor, echoed by Faceplant as they passed over the dinosauroid.
“I gotta get me one of those,” Faceplant laughed.
So, Talon, asked the tailor, This bird responds to you, do you control him? I’m not so hot on dogs – wondering about something else to ride, you know?
Talon thought broadly to the group, Crossbeak is my bond-beast, it’s true, but he’s wild and obeys his own demands before mine. But others can control almost any animal, some with fish or even insects. The wolves are their own kind of people – even the normal wolf pack unrelated to the Greater wolves. They were actually here first, before Snowdrift arrived. And if you’re wondering, yes, there are cat-riders and the like, we’ve a couple in the Valley.
Privately to the tailor she added, But don’t knock it, if a wolf calls you their friend, the last thing you’ll be thinking is how ‘doggie’ they are. It’s true they’re not quite as intelligent as elves, but I know some elves that aren’t as polite or sensible as the wolves!
It took a little more than three more hours, with the wind benefitting them this time, blowing southward and helping them glide over the hills toward the shore. It was upon the eagle’s wide brown feathered back that the portal-hopper stood and pointed.
“I can see the ocean! From here!”
The others halfway pulled him down again, but also clambored to look around each other’s shoulders to see the grey, hard line of the ocean in the distance. The hills abruptly divided, and in a moment the group realized – this was the Valley! Dare’s Valley! Their destination!
Though the ground was broken by rocks and outcrops, it was richly covered with a yellowish-green grass, shrouded in shadows on the edges of the entrance by thick, thorny bushes. The trees closest to the ocean were tall, stately evergreens, with a host of smaller, gnarled wide bodied ones keeping closer to the ground. Talon commanded her bird friend to land somewhere gently, and as they did so in the largest of the clearings between the two hillsides, Talon and Pirate landed near the elves which ran out to greet them.
Still a bit cold, even though the sun was warming them (it was nearly noon, perhaps just past it, what Talon’s estimate would be was ‘eight hands’ till evening) the group tumbled to the ground and in fact some praised that very ground. They were glad to be on it once more.
The elves that arrived to find their errant mapmaker were cheerful, colorful, and curious. They wore bright clothes though some held back in the shadows and were more subdued in their appearance. Some came from cave entrances, others from trees, and several from a trail that went into the middle of the woods down the center of the valley.
“Dare, Silvermane,” Talon said to the pair in front, “there are new arrivals, probably headed to the south east.”
Dare had a pony tail of tan-blond hair and a no-nonsense look on her face, her delicate ears poking out from the tails and decorated here and there with small earrings. She wore mostly beige and tan furs and fine leathers, in a simple shirt-and-pants arrangement. But it was easy to see that she felt in charge – and would compete to keep herself that way.
The male standing next to her was taller than she by head and shoulders, he was built hugely and with nothing but muscle, his skin tanned and true to his name he had a mop mane of white-silver hair. He wore only dark leggings and boots, showing off several scars on his chest and upper arms. Though he was almost terrifying physically, he gave off more of a friendly air than Dare did.
“And?” Dare asked, after a moment of appraisal.
“And there are more likely others on their way, Snowdrift is in the Hall waiting,” Talon said. “I’m positive this is but the first group.”
Dare said nothing more, nodded once and went back into the darkness of the trees. Silvermane hung around a little longer, asking, “They hunt?”
“Don’t know yet,” Talon said with a smile. “Why not find out?”
Talon turned to the group and smiled – though it was a ‘ha ha you’re in for it now’ kind of smile. “Silvermane here is going to take you on a hunt. Do you think you’re ready for it?”
“Do we have to?” Asked the portal-jumper, “I mean, I like my food cooked, not kicking.”
“Then you need to have something else to do in the meantime,” Silvermane said, his voice was low but pleasant. “Anyone else not have the taste for hunting and killing for the food you eat – and the leather you’re wearing?”
The tailor briefly looked down at his work, shrugged, “I don’t mind, though I don’t know how to use weapons like that,” he nodded toward what appeared to be a boomerang on the hip of one elf who had come to see what the fuss was about.
“We’ll find everyone something to use,” Talon suggested, starting to walk into the shaded path, “they’ve only been here a day, go easy on them.”
Silvermane grunted, saying something about having to learn in a day and why can’t kids these days do what’s needed, blah blah blah – he actually said that, because he was joking.
“I’d like to help, but I don’t know…” The long-haired female said, “I have a feeling I won’t like it much.”
“But you’ve got healing in your hands,” Silvermane commented looking over his shoulder at her, “healers are always a welcome addition to a hunting party. Him too,” he said of the second to arrive, who was almost the same size and shape as the chieftain.
“I’ll come along, then,” the female said, “but I don’t actually know how to use any healing power you might think I have…”
“You’ll know how if you’re needed,” Silvermane assured her with a pleasant wink. Though he looked mature, there was something impish about him, and something that most of the elves could tell was a bit different about him.
Oddly enough it was the Pirate girl who looked at Talon and Silvermane and decided, “you’re both shape shifters,” and at that Silvermane paused and turned with his heavy eyebrows arched up.
“That is … correct,” he said with a bit of surprise. Pirate beamed with a silly grin and then spotted a spear standing in a nook – they’d been walking toward a magically shaped, somewhat dome-enshrouded room that had roots and vines as well as pure stone columns holding up the canopy. There was light filtering down from gaps beween roots, it dappled the brown dirt floor but showed that many weapons were stored here.
“There’s a bunch of things for hunting here,” Silvermane commented while finding his own favorite two-handed spear among a stack of such things. “Everyone is always losing arrows, breaking spears, missing their trap wires in the woods,” here he shot a look at an elf who had innocently been watching – who instantly blushed and turned his head away to busy himself on weaving another net…
“Oh, bow please,” said the first comer, “I really really want to see that one,” she pointed at a gently curved bow and a quiver that sat next to it. Silvermane obliged her and handed them off. “What is this made of?” She asked.
“That’s bone,” Talon said, “my work actually,” she indicated the decoration on her hair which was made from small magically shaped pieces of bone. “Bone is good for bows, some say better than wood, because it’s got a different build to it,” she shrugged, “but that’s up to you to decide. Can you pull that one? I think I made it with a bigger elf in mind…”
Yet the first comer was able to easily string it and handled it with such expertise it made Talon smile. She slung the quiver of wood and feather arrows onto her shoulder, and waited as the others selected their own pieces of weaponry.
Clubs and small throwing knives, bows, spears and javelins rounded out their group’s choices, and Talon took the portal-hopper off to another part of the Valley to explore.
Silvermane and the Hunting Party
“We’re going to need silence, for hunting out here,” Silvermane said as they trudged up the south hill, “I assume that Talon showed you all how to send properly?”
We got an education on the flight here, yeah. The grey-streaked male thought, and Silvermane nodded.
“What will we be looking for, here?” asked the curly-haired male, “do large … prey-things live this close to your village?”
“No, they don’t,” Silvermane said. They cleared one ridge and he pointed off to the south, where green trees were broken up by the taller bare branches of deciduous ones, another valley where the sea met cliffs off to the east a little, and the Valley’s southern definition broke it to the west. “But we’re not going to be hunting for anything big or difficult, and there are always plenty of rabbits and other prey.”
“They’re more challenging,” grinned Pirate, “I wanna catch me a squirrel.”
Chuckling, Silvermane nodded, “there are plenty of those to go around…”
As if to illustrate that fact, a skinny-tailed squirrel bolted across the path and up into the nearby tree. It was obviously all Pirate could do to refrain from flying up after it. She was floating now, almost the entire way through the woods.
We will be hunting for slightly bigger prey than that, however, Silvermane sent to them all. You would be surprised how difficult squirrels are to actually catch. We’re after those, He indicated a herd of creatures which sat or stood casually yet alert in a little hollow nearby. It was far enough away that they hadn’t heard the approach of the group, and the wind, as Silvermane gently pointed out as a hunting tip, was coming from the animal’s direction and not theirs.
The animals themselves were unlike almost any single earthly creature by comparison, but had elements of deer, hog and badger lumped in together. They were barrel bodied, with heavy legs and a short neck, their heads were long and had sharp horns that stretched back over their neck, and ears which swiveled around to catch any sounds. Their pelts, Silvermane suggested, were of use in winter for blankets, but not so much for clothing as they became a bit too heavy and warm. This close to the winter season, their fur had changed (he sent an image of their summer coats) from a rich red-brown into a dappled grey-black. This would help them in their chosen landscape, normally.
But now? With winter still off a bit, and the snows not having blanketed the black-brown hillsides, they stood out a bit. This herd had two large males, one clearly older and dominant, the other was probably his son or younger sibling. Three adult females, each with some young that were not quite two-thirds the size of their parents. Young were on the way, as well, but not quite yet.
The long-haired healer perked up, sensing something along the way. There are other animals here, watching us. She glanced around, and spotted something sitting on a bare branch across from the elves, overlooking the herd of animals. There, looks like he’s keeping an eye on them too, they’re … trampling his best berry patch?
The others cast confused glances at her, and the elfess herself shrugged and indicated she’d no clue how that knowledge had come to her. It was a small, long bodied weasel of some kind, difficult to see at that distance at all, let alone to tell whether it was facing them or not. Her magic, Silvermane assured them, had started up.
She felt no remarkable attachment to the other animals, but as they approached as cautiously and silently as they could, the elf began to sense the life-forces of the herd. Young and vital, older and stately, pregnant, heavy with milk… Each of them rang differently in her senses. But still, the only thing she felt compelled to do was shoo them away from the weasel’s tree! From this distance, she could detect not just that one, but his family and rivals all around. It became a bit overwhelming, but she blinked that odd sensation of ‘seeing beyond her eyes’ away.
If we split up around the glade, Silvermane said, We will be able to surround them. Go carefully, in twos, Pirate-girl, you stay with me.
Pirate almost shouted something about not taking orders from some portly scallywag – but she knew better. He’d swat her her straight out of the sky with his hand, let alone any weapon he used, so she floated closer to him.
The Tailor and healer went to one side, and settled down near a stout tree. Silvermane and Pirate remained where they were, by the trail. The long-haired male and the one with a grey streak in his hair stood off to the side opposite Tailor, and that left Faceplant and the archer elfess to approach on the other end. Silvermane didn’t bother warning the others about any wild shots from her bow – for some reason he simply knew she wasn’t going to blow any of these shots. The others, however…
Let the archer send the herd through here past us, Silvermane asserted. We will pick off the older male, and the two oldest offspring – they are the ones with the black ridges on their backs.
Why those three? Asked the blaze-marked male.
They are related to the others too closely, Silvermane thought back. We know the herds, it’s not hard to follow markings in offspring. And there are too many males – only one of those young yearlings is female. Too many bucks for this herd.
With that, he signalled the archer to strike as best she could, into the herd’s eldest member. It would be okay to get it in the haunch, they actually wanted the herd to panic and spring up. To the long-haired male, it was amazing they hadn’t jumped the moment the elves had come into view. Perhaps it was more magic, he wasn’t sure.
The blond haired female pulled back the bolt, and let it fly – as intended, it hit the eldest male’s hind limb, and surprised him into a loud bellow before he tensed up and then bucked a little. The arrow stuck from his thick fur, but would not come out – it was a very sound hit.
Now! Rush at them, towards us! Silvermane thought loudly – and to Pirate more quietly, Get ready to fly up, and if they get too far into the woods, float the big male up into the air.
Pirate giggled at that prospect, there’s a thought she hadn’t expected. The sudden commotion from two sides, with four elves jumping and shouting hunting calls, brought the rest of the herd to their feet. The younger buck tried to hold his ground, but since it was obvious that he wasn’t the target of the arrows or noises, he instead wisely chose to lead his harem out through the simple path before them. Right past Silvermane.
Good, good, let them go, he bespoke, Wait for them, now!
Pirate dropped from the sky in front of the older buck, as several others harried the younglings and made them dance from one almost-exit to the next. Bushes shook and the trees erupted with the dozens of birds and insects that resided in them, suddenly this quiet glade was a noisy place to be!
Pirate saw that the older buck was about to rear up and try to knock her over. The animals looked smaller than they were – they were all at least the same height as an elf, but what they’d somewhat forgotten, was that elves even here were rather small in stature! They weren’t up to Silvermane’s shoulders, but they were big enough to put a good dent in someone’s head!
While Faceplant landed a spear directly into the neck of one of the younglings, he also felt the sting of the hoof that struck out in retaliation. Suddenly from across the melee, the healer projected strong soothing waves of magic toward him, and his bruised leg healed immediately.
They didn’t notice Silvermane’s reaction, but continued on. He had his own worries, anyway. His spear had been brought up a little late, as the older buck reared, but his face was spared any damage when Pirate lifted it back into the glade. “Back in there,” Pirate said, gruffly. She eagerly played the role of playpen guardian. One tried to leap over a tall bush, she plucked it out of the air with ease, and dropped it back into the grassy area. They could hear the others of the herd still bellowing and barking their way down to another, safer and more heavily covered hillside.
When the old buck turned upon the archer and her companion, it was on what looked to be her ‘off’ side, and she spun to see grey-brown fur flying into her direction. She’d been firing arrows carefully to keep the younger bucks near and startled, she knew her barbs would only penetrate barely under their heavy skin and fur, she couldn’t hope to deliver a killing blow with them. But she did something that surprised even the experienced Silvermane then, she switched hands, pulled an arrow back and shot again, a glancing arrow shot up past the buck’s eye and stuck in its ear! It swung its head around, smacking the archer in the neck with her own arrow point – to which the healer again, from across the glade, shot her power at a distance to seal the wound all but instantly.
She had no idea she could do that, of course, but it felt so good, she continued to do so. The long-haired male elf danced around with a determined look on his face, weilding a heavy staff in an arc around himself. He twisted a little too far, almost falling, but was caught by the elbow by his grey-streaked companion. His ankle twinged… and was immediately better.
He looked up at the long-haired elf, with a wild smile on his face. “That’s great! Keep it up!” She nodded back, and Silvermane almost let his own spear drop in amazement.
This was a group of elves barely a hand of days fresh to the world – and they acted like a team. Those with the spears and staves finally did in the older buck, and one of the grey-streaked elves’ well-thrown small clubs knocked the last one down for a killing blow to be delivered by the Tailor.
They stood panting, Pirate started giggling and then shot into the sky crowing a laugh that would make a mad scientist worry. “That was great!” She yelled.
“That was… amazing,” Silvermane said, he turned to the healer. “How did you do that? I’ve never seen anyone heal that way!”
“Well, you said, I would know…” She shrugged. She picked her way through the trampled area, sullenly. “The weasel’s gone,” she muttered. “And look at this mess, they would rather have eaten these berries whole than crushed by all the action.”
“Well,” said the long-haired male, “they’ll grow back, and besides, now that the herd’s gone it’ll be all theirs again.”
“That was … exhausting,” Tailor said, “I think in the future I may stick to sewing up hides, instead of beating on them.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” Silvermane said, as he helped heft one of the killed creatures over his spear, carrying one end while Faceplant took the other. “Everyone has their duty in their holt, not everyone needs to hunt, all the time. But it is important to know what you’re capable of.” There, while the others were similarly gathering their kills together and slinging them over whatever long spear or staff they had, he looked back at the healer. “I certainly hope you find your place doing that again. I’ve never known a healer to… well, to do that!”
“Well,” she looked at him with some chagrin, while picking leaves from her hair, “what did you expect me to do, wait for you to die?”
Hanging Around the Valley
When the hunting group came back from their journey with three good carcasses, the rest of the Valley came to life. Any time someone brought enough for everyone, was time for a party! The portal-hopper had settled into a happy state of watching everything he could keep up with, which was a lot, but it had left him exhausted. He’d plopped down in a hammock slung with a pile of recently-harvested fruits, and was snoozing in the afternoon sun when the bunch came back.
“Hey look what I found!” He yelled and chucked a yellow-fruit at them, Pirate caught it in midair with her magic. “Oooh, nice trick!”
Though it was possible that some of the newcomers had roughed it out in the wilderness where they’d come from, not everyone knew how to clean and skin a kill – that was the next lesson from Silvermane, and then came a well-deserved rest.
The food would be cooked by locals, apparently they were so expert at this that they just removed the fresh meat the moment it had been stripped of any of its less desirable or edible bits, and vanished into their long, colorfully decorated hut. The portal-hopper was dragged along, disappearing into it with a broad smile on his happy face, this was more like it. Leave the dirty work to someone else, while he got to help create masterful foodstuffs!
The entrails, inedible things and other internals were left for the wolves and other predators who hadn’t been on the hunt, bond-animals to the local elves. Normally, he explained, the gutting would be done closer to the hunt site, to keep from getting exhausted on the way home with full-bellied carcasses. But since they were apt at hovering and quite strong, hardly more than a little tired out, the elves had carried them back full. The wolves and other predators of the Valley weren’t all that picky about what they got to eat without having to catch it, apparently – though bits were still left for ants and carrion birds. The skins, on the other hand, were going to be tanned and sent to the Hall.
Talon had requested this, something inside her told her that there would be a lot of elves. And that would mean they’d need new clothing, cloth and leather, twine and threads, before leaving. The pile of cloth and such would run out if not replenished, and this was an ideal moment to do so.
She was planning on returning, pending Snowdrift’s arrival they would both head back to the Hall and wait for others. Talon spent more time traveling than some folks did sitting in one place every day. She introduced the group to Jade, who was one of her oldest friends and looked rather a lot like Talon too. She’d been the one to magically shape the skins they were wearing anyway, so more of the same was in her future. She tucked the three skins away in her den, before the sun set and they were called out.
But for the moment, she and everyone else were called over to the big feasting glen for the meal that had been prepared. The hut the food had been prepared in was long and narrow – but had a courtyard built around the other side, with lean-to thatched rooves and palm trees to cover from the wind, over a number of carefully shaped and very comfortable wooden seats.
“Don’t get too comfy,” someone said, “we had to work hard on the comforts we have, you’re going to have to make your own when you find your homes!”
That sparked a bit of conversation which was largely left ignored by the time the full plates of steaming meat and vegetables came from the kitchen. Breads and pastas were in small baskets, sauces shared between tables, and wooden plates and bowls were filled high with fresh, hot foods. Spices from far and wide were used, ‘Hammock’ explained, “the Ice Traders, they’re the big guys to the north that Talon told us about, they have ships that travel across the ocean. Plenty of places to harvest from.”
“So there are other cities and people in them?” Asked the archer, who had been dubbed Sharpshot by Silvermane while they came back to the Valley.
“Not really cities,” Talon said, holding a long brittle breadstick, “they have small colonies on islands and there are plenty of those scattered through the ocean apparently.”
“Aside from them,” Dare herself said from another table, “there aren’t very many really civilized places in the world. We’re special.” She grinned widely and took another piece of thinly sliced beast from the serving platter.
They had all the meat they could stomach, plus boiled and steamed tubers, carrots, shoots and leaves, some with their own juice and others dry and crumbly to contrast. The pasta was thick, flat strands of dark brown grain that had spicy red sauce and sticky cheese to pour on it. Fruits with glazes of sugar and honey came after the big part of the meal, fresh banana, orange and pear but also things which were never found on Earth. Round, prickly skinned but exquisitely sweet blue-fruits, melons which had three different colors of meat and hardly any seeds, and small round berries that had equal amounts of sweet and tart to them. Around all of this, wine and water were served, bowls passed with fresh water and small woven towels to clean up.
It was practically the royal treatment, but it was standard for a good celebration at the Valley! It was a good thing there were a couple of elves who traveled around a bit, to compare things for the newcomers.
“If you head to the Southern holt – that’s pretty far south-west on the coast – they have a fall harvest hunt, and it’s so huge!” Said dark-skinned Goblin, around yet another mouthfull of food. “Their wine, they have contests for it every few turns! The wanderers out there on the plains,” he waved his fork (which was also full of food) (which he then stuffed into his mouth), “they bring down these huge deer but they’ve got berries and fruit and grain they distill, it’s good stuff!”
Somehow he managed to not only keep the food in his mouth, but speak fairly plainly as well. Goblin indeed.
“That’s all true,” said Nightsky, a round-faced blond with a prowling tiger bond she leaned against after the meal, “but the Coast has friendlier parties, I think.” She gave a sending image of their cliffs dappled with pretty glowing lights, the sounds of distant laughter and music. “I don’t like how they’re so crowded in the South.”
“It’s not as bad now,” yellow-skinned Secret said, his eerie all-blue eyes heavily lidded after such a huge meal, “they have people living in the farther hills, it’s not like it was.”
“I guess we spread out quite a bit then?” Asked Tailor, “Talon, how many people do live here on this world?”
The black-haired woman gave a half-startled shrug, “no idea. I’ve … I think I’ve met almost two hundred, perhaps more. I only keep close attention on the Valley and places near us.”
“Only two hundred people?” Faceplant said. “That’s nowhere near ‘crowded’.”
“It is when you must hunt for your food, and you have animals like this to keep happy too,” Nightsky said, patting the furry side of her bond-cat. “They have large territories, and you never want to over-hunt.”
“Plus the fact that we’re immortal,” the pretty Serenity said. Several elves looked at her with surprise, “well we are,” she said. “And we do have children, that would lead to crowding, correct?” She noticably did not eat meat at the meal, she’d been in charge of showing Hammock what spices to use in the kitchens.
“So we’re immortal, we can breed, and we need a lot of space,” Faceplant said. “But…” he glanced at the night sky, which was filled with foreign stars – not that he could recall what stars looked like from Earth. “The world must be large enough for many more.”
“I think the Ancients, who built the Hall,” Talon said, a bit seriously, “knew that too. But they died out, and left only the smallest of their works behind.”
“If the Hall’s their work and it’s small,” said Pirate with a weird look on her black-skinned face, “I wonder what their big jobs were like…”
Eventually the conversation was turned to finding out what powers and abilities the new elves had. Everyone relaxed a bit, began dancing once their food had settled. Hammock was out there with a couple of the dancers from the Valley – and a bright glow surrounded him, not quite like an aura but not quite like a ‘spotlight’ either. The musicians encouraged the newcomers to try their own hand at gourd rattles and shakers, hide and wooden drums, reed flutes and even a stringed guitar. Some had more aptitude than others, but everyone enjoyed the evening.
Drifting into a deep slumber, the group was welcomed by the wolves in their own special way too: some young pups approached the sleeping elves and placed themselves very carefully under an arm or beside a shoulder… When the elves would wake, something more magical would happen. Animals thought of as ‘lost to Earth’ or not quite recalled had ‘arrived’ in the form of the wolves which lived here. Pups were sometimes born that didn’t match their parents colors or personalities… Some turned to this group.
In the morning, when those animals stirred and woke up the elves (get outta the way I have to pee! hey stop stepping on my hair! is there any more of that bread left? what’s this thing on me?!) several of them were rather surprised to see happy canine faces licking them awake. Bouncing newly-weaned pups, along with slightly older wolves, some calm and some fairly distant, all had decided to come as one to this group.
Naming was done, bonding was made – but all in all, what really happened was that Talon went back to the Hall after Jade had finished with her leather-shaping magic, and … And the group of elves settled into things a bit. They would be here a while if what Talon said was true: there were others on the way. And who knew how long it would take for them to get here.
Sometimes, they were told, the wanderlust became so strong that single elves would just wander the world, or be the first to arrive at a new place that others eventually came to. In this group, none of them were really all that hot and bothered to go anywhere – especially not after seeing the hospitality of the Valley! So they would wait, perhaps until every newcomer that needed be, was with them.