The Journals of the Forging

[RudeDawg]

Prologue

Jared saw the smoke on the morning two days from his farm. The breeze had picked up from the day earlier, and it brought the smoke trail above the tree line. It was the wrong color for a cooking or campfire, and there was too much of it. As he gulped his caf, he figured on how far it was to the source. It would add at least a day to his trek home, and he would be too late to help the victims. The smoke was black as the pitch that was a part of it. It was the remains of a building, someone’s home. As he neared, he knew that he would smell the burning seasoned wood, the clothes, and the victims. Shaking his head, he broke camp, and mounted his horse.

Twice in one week, things were getting worse.

Late that evening, he came upon the outskirts of the remains. He could see the burnt fields, with the slaughtered livestock gathering carrion. As he rode through the fields to the burnt shell, the birds scattered, spreading filth and screaming at him. Jared’s breath shortened as the smell off the carnage hit him. What he saw was worse that he expected.

It wasn’t a single farmstead, it was a village. Several huts still stood, but the burnt-out shells of larger buildings outnumbered them easily. Survivors were piling salvage from the ruins, tending wounded, and generally wandering with lost looks on their faces. Most of the faces he saw considered him with a mixture of fear and curiosity. None held hope in seeing him.

The bodies he saw scattered were varied, young and old, large and small. Many were still smoking. His eyes quickly picked out the malformed bodies of those not human. Orcs, ogres, and orogs spread among the remains. Typical raiding party from the mountains, but they never traveled this far west.

“Ho!” a man walked up to him, clutching a pitchfork in his hand. Jared smiled and lifted his hands, holding the reins lightly.

“I saw the smoke, came to help,” he explained.

“Came to loot, you mean.”

“Yours isn’t the only village in the region that has suffered this season. I saw a similar case only weeks ago, in Eagles Crest, past the hills. They were hit before sunrise, by a large band of demis from the mountains west of here. I’m heading home from trading, and your village is too close for comfort. I came to see if I can help, and to find out what happened. I don’t want to be unprepared when I get to my home.”

“They were heading east. You?”

“They’re heading back home, I guess. My farm is to the south.” He chose not to comment on his likely good fortune.

The man snarled, “No-one lives south of us. It’s forest for days. Haunted by creatures large and small, natural and not. You’d have to be a fool.”

“Yes, they tell me. I’m a fool, or stupid, or crazy.” Jared’s laugh was easy. “May I help? I have some experience tracking…”

“We don’t want to know who they were or where they’ve gone. They killed dozens, burned us out, killed the animals, and burned the fields! My boy died trying to fight. We won’t hunt them.”

Jared recognized the sounds of a mob when he heard the crowd behind the man. He watched as they herding a small boy before them. He child’s hands were tied behind him. He nudged his horse towards the commotion.

“He was a member of the raiding party. We captured him, and he’s going to die for the crimes.” The man didn’t sound vengeful. He sounded regretful, actually.

“Demis don’t bring their young on raids. And I’ve never seen one so small…”

As they neared, Jared saw the bag over the body’s head. He quickly noticed the thinness of the limbs, the small stature, and the straight back.

“Hold up!” his voice lashed out, quiet command lacing the sound. He walked his horse up to the bound figure, and pulled of the bag.

This was no boy.

“Hello, lord.” Jared smiled, and then spoke loudly, without looking away from the angry eyes staring at him. Dark green eyes. “Why have you captured an elf? Do you know the penalty? You will have the anger of a kingdom against your village!” He dismounted, and moved behind the young elf to free him.

“He was with them! We found him after the battle!”

“Really? Your village must have an extraordinary blacksmith. These manacles are remarkable quality. Could he step forward to help me get them off?”

He looked up when he heard no answer. The villagers were looking at him.

“The manacles wee already on him, huh? But, you believe that he was a member of the raiding party, bound like this.” He held his anger in check; these weren’t bad people, just fools - scared and angry.

The sword that he pulled from the scabbard on his saddle chimed as it cleared. It seemed to capture the remaining light and glow on its own. As always, Jared heart ached when he held it.

He turned to the youngster, and bade him kneel. He toed a scrap of wood between the elf’s hands, and asked him to grip the brace. One blow severed the restraints. With the breaking of the chain, the cuffs opened on their own.

“Fire and blood, “ Jared winced as the cold iron fell from the wrists, the angry welts of its burning glaring up from the thin arms. The young elf looked up at him, with no emotion but anger.

“I have some salve for that,” he smiled at the elf, “ at home.” With that he looked up. “No one objects to his coming, of course.”

The villagers were looking at the sword, at the symbol softly glowing from the face of the blade. The symbol of an army disbanded, but legendary. The symbol of a promise.

“No, no. Of course not.”

He lifted his new charge onto the saddle, and climbed behind him. He turned his horse south, towards home.


------------------

The RudeDawg
Known in these Forgotten Realms as Perin LightEyes


[This message has been edited by RudeDawg (edited 04-28-2001).]

[This message has been edited by RudeDawg (edited 04-28-2001).]

[RudeDawg]

This is a fan-fic that I started during the 2 week hiatus...

It chronicles my character's life from my old PnP days...

I may do another one, from the BGSoA perspective, in the BGII forum, later...

As I've mentioned before, I am starting to write again... I writing a few things, right now. I need the practice, since I'm going to try to get a few old projects published. After I've practiced for a month or so, and got my hands warm with the language, I'll pull those old projects out, and start an editing project.

Hopefully, I'll be anouncing my publish date, eventually...

------------------

The RudeDawg
Known in these Forgotten Realms as Perin LightEyes


[This message has been edited by RudeDawg (edited 04-28-2001).]

[RudeDawg]

They made camp miles away, well after sundown. Jared could see well at night, and he knew his charge’s natural affinity for the dark.

The young elf had ridden stiffly, seemingly afraid of Jared. He still hadn’t spoken. He refused the food offered him, including the little fruit Jared had.
Jared treasured silence, stillness. It was a pleasurable alternate to the violence in his life. But the elf’s silence was not peaceful, just the opposite. Jared felt the angry gaze as he fell asleep.

They were at Jared’s farm the next day. Jared unloaded his horse, and looked around the homestead. The villager was right; you’d have to travel through days of forest to get here, unless you could find the unmarked path. The forest added days to anyone’s journey, Jared had watched travelers move by his unmarked fields just yards away. Privacy was important.

Everything was undisturbed. No sign of anyone’s passage.

Jared set to making his guest welcome.

The elf refused to speak, and to eat.

He refused the next day.

He refused the next week.

A month passed, and the elf seemed weaker. But he refused everything placed before him. Jared was used to silence, so he just avoided the young elf.

Into the second month, the elf was coming outside to watch him work in the field. Jared laughed as he worked, thinking how much easier it was to harvest rocks than food. It was with surprise when he first noticed the elf, sitting by the filed, watching him.

The anger was no longer there, but trust was also missing. Curiosity, that’s what it is, Jared thought.

At the end of the second month, it happened.


------------------

The RudeDawg
Known in these Forgotten Realms as Perin LightEyes

[RudeDawg]

Jared was struggling with a huge stone in the field, when he heard the bear. He looked up; saw the large brown shape rushing across the open yard, heading for the elf. The elf stood up, faced the bear, and waited.

Jared reached his bow, nocked an arrow, and loosed it before he could aim. He struck the bear on the shoulder, a solid shot, but only a slight wound in something that size. The bear turned towards Jared. As it rushed toward him, Jared was able to aim, to concentrate. His training held true. In a breath, two arrows struck the same eye socket, and Jared was preparing the third as the bear fell.

Jared looked at the elf, who had remained motionless through the attack.


------------------

The RudeDawg
Known in these Forgotten Realms as Perin LightEyes

[RudeDawg]

That evening, the elf spoke.

“I would learn. You know how to kill. I would learn.”

“Your accent isn’t right. Your elders didn’t teach you Common?”

“I would learn.”

“I heard. I understand. What I don’t understand is how you have a hard time with Common. The Elders teach it to their ambassadors and travelers before you’re old enough to be out of the Kingdoms. I’ve never met an elf without the perfect accent. ‘Till now.”

“You know many of us?” the boy tried to sneer, but seemed unsure of himself. That was wrong, as well.

“Yes, I do. Hundreds by name, thousands by sight. I’ve stood before your prince, and accepted the Blades of Flame. I’ve known enough to know that you should not be out of the Kingdoms. You’re a lad. How old are you?”

“I’m not from the kingdoms.”

“Yes, I know. I need to know from where. They are the Kingdoms. Say the word with dignity. Alas, I can’t teach you the accent. You’ll end up sounding uneducated.”

“I would learn.”

Jared smiled. “You have no idea about what I just told you, do you? Your
prince, the Blades? Have you ever been to the Kingdoms?”

The elf was silent.

“OK. We’ll start from the beginning then. My name is Jared. Jared the Fletcher. This is my home. You are my guest. What should I call my guest?”

“I have no name.”

“What do your parents call you? Your public name?”

“I have no parents. I have no name.”

“Lord, elves don’t disrespect their family like that…”

The elf began to cry. Jared had never seen an elf cry. Never.

Jared knew better that to reach for the elf. Elves didn’t like to be touched.

It was shocking when the elf stood up and rushed into his arms.

He’s a baby, Jared thought, He must be much younger than I believed.

Eventually, the elf slowed. Jared was worried, now.

The elf sat in his lap. “Just like a ten year old boy,” Jared thought.

“I’m only ten of your years old.”

Jared was shocked. A baby! The youngest elf he had ever known was over a hundred years old! Younger than that weren’t even allowed to speak to outsiders.

Suddenly, Jared was wishing he was back fighting dragons for the Elf Prince.

“I have no name.” The boy whimpered.

“Yes you do. You are Perin.” He looked down at the upturned face, and saw the fire reflecting in the dark eyes. They glowed red. “Perin Lighteyes.”


------------------

The RudeDawg
Known in these Forgotten Realms as Perin LightEyes

[Ladyzekke]

Good story so far RudeDawg! Now I find myself wondering about this captive elf?? And what kind of background does Jared have?

------------------

[RudeDawg]

Originally posted by ladyzekke: Good story so far RudeDawg! Now I find myself wondering about this captive elf?? And what kind of background does Jared have?

Thanks, ladyzekke ...

I'd appreciate criticism, both good and constructive...
The characters will be fleshed out in the story, this is the Prolouge. I'll post part of Chap 1 tomorrow. I don't want to swamp this place with my scribblings...

again, if anyone objects to me posting my stiory, let me know.



------------------

The RudeDawg
Known in these Forgotten Realms as Perin LightEyes

[Reeka]

Just now had time to read it. Rudi, it's really very good. You have to finish it now because I have so many unanswered questions. Jared's disbanded army? Where Perin came from? What's going to happen next? More, more, more. Author, author, author!


BTW: thanks for the help on BG2. Maybe I can try it out tomorrow.

------------------
Reeka--The Hand of Death O_H_F
Lady in Waiting (found what I was waiting for)
Official Party Planner and Events Coordinator of the Moon's Hope Inn
Proud Member of the Ladies Guild
GMDLM

[Ladyzekke]

Originally posted by RudeDawg: Thanks, ladyzekke ... I'd appreciate criticism, both good and constructive... The characters will be fleshed out in the story, this is the Prolouge. I'll post part of Chap 1 tomorrow. I don't want to swamp this place with my scribblings... again, if anyone objects to me posting my stiory, let me know.

No criticism here RudeDawg! No way no how!! You just have me curious about the characters is all, which is a good thing for a writer! I am truly "interested" in learning more re your novella, you see? You have me duly "hooked"! I look forward to reading more tomorrow. Do not worry about "swamping" on this forum, as spamming here in this "General Discussions" forum is considered an art form!

------------------

[RudeDawg]

Chapter One

The day was bright and sunny. Perin watched the young man tie the fletching to the arrow.

“Very good, Morgan. That is work to be proud of. But at your speed, you’ll be my age when you get a quiver full.”

“When I’m your age, I’ll have fletched enough arrows for an army, each as perfect as this one!” Morgan laughed.

Perin grunted at the playful disrespect

Of all the generations of the Fletcher men, Morgan reminded Perin of his great-grandfather the most. Just like Jared, he was full of happiness, and duty.

“Thank you, Jared.” He whispered. A day did not pass that Perin didn’t think of his adopted father in thanks and memory.

Perin stood, and watched out of the workshop. He looked on the small field, full of vegetables, and the trees beyond. The house and farm were still hidden, after all these years. Perin breathed the sweet air, and walked to the fruit trees. He knew that Morgan would be done soon, and they would go into town to sell the arrows. Like he always did, with Morgan’s father, his grandfather, and with Jared. It was a good life. It was a peaceful life.

He looked in on it from the outside, a stranger in his own home.

He looked up at the sun, and cursed the season. The peace was coming to an end, as it did every year.

He had some time to spend, so he walked to the small pond. He knelt in the circle, and closed his eyes. Hours later, he breathed his way out of the mediation. Perin frowned. He was still restless, uneasy. He could not still the emotions filling him. He moved back to the house, to his room. In this sanctuary, he opened the chest. Holding the bundle, he felt a calm wrap him.

Shaking his head, he cursed under his breath.

He sought peace, looked for it as one would for treasure.

It eluded him, always. Only when preparing for violence, did he feel the peace he wanted. Sometimes he wondered why he tried.

“Peace is in you, child.” He remembered Jared’s loving tones. “Open your heart.”

Those words burned Perin’s eyes. It was two days after they were spoken that terror struck the farm.

Morgan’s voice called out in the afternoon, announcing lunch. After they ate, the two would pack for their journey. At the fair, they would sell the arrows that Morgan had made.

Perin would meet with the sell-swords, the mercenaries, and find a new cause to fight for. Winter was coming, and his killing-season was here.

The scar traveling down his face burned, with a ghost pain. The pain resided in memory, and it kept him warm at night. He knew that it was flush with blood, slightly red against his skin. The scar marred the elven beauty he was born with.

Perin felt that it suited him better.


------------------

The RudeDawg
Known in these Forgotten Realms as Perin LightEyes