Thought it was a good way to tell the tale of my best adventurer. Give it a try, it's a good read. If people like it, I'll post further!
Thanks for reading.
By the elf Fina Smilemouth.
It all began on the 5th of Limestone on 1050.
I woke up to a loud snoring sound, coming from a dwarf, who was sleeping huddled in a corner. I was in the house I shared with seven other elves, in my hometown, the hamlet Cruxowners.
-"Hey Oquethi!", I greeted with cheer.
-"Good morning Fina!!", responded my housemate.
-"Good morning. If you don't mind my asking, who's that dwarf sleeping in the corner? Please don't tell me you let ANOTHER adventurer spend the night here. You know it's always the same! They never pay a dime, or help with supper. And the smell. Oh god! The smell!"
-"It would be terrible to leave someone to fend for themselves after sunset", he mechanically answered, a vacant stare in his eyes.
-"Why do you always say that?", I complained. "I mean, Oquethi, you say that every single time someone comes over. It's so grating!", I added.
Vacant stare.
-"Don't you know who that is? It's Aban Diamondtown the Charms of Society! he's a legend!", he chirped.
-"Really?"
-"Yeah, stinking rich too.", he interjected nonchalantly.
"Hmmm...", my mind wandered off.
I was an animal caretaker. A highly respected profession in the elven world. However, our small hamlet didn't have any animals to take care of, so I had to work tending to the lentil fields.
I detested, abhorred my life. Therefore, that afternoon, when, over supper (he declined my lentil soup, and insisted on eating a strange, slimy piece of meat. Dwarves and their habits!) , the dwarf mentioned he'd liked some company, I couldn't control myself.
"Excitement! Adventure!", I cried excitedly, almost wetting my most prized possesion, a pair of finely crafted cow leather trousers.
And so we were off.
If only I could have known.
If only.
****
I guess I should describe Aban's appearance.
He was incredibly muscular. His sideburns were clean shaven, his abundant moustache was neatly combed, his very long beard was braided, the hair on his head completely shaved off. He had a very clear voice, a very narrow chin, and his ears had GREAT swinging lobes. Really. Swinging like you wouldn't believe. His skin was gray and his eyes were, upsettingly, amethyst.
Regarding his attire, he was equipped from head to toe in expensive steel armor. Red steel breastplate, red steel greaves, red steel one horned helmet, red steel boots, the works. I guess you could say he liked red steel. Other than that, his clothing was fairly normal, if tattered and filthy.
On his left hand. he wielded a single red steel short sword. He loved that weapon. He loved that weapon the same way I love the croaks of the hoary marmots when I'm alone at home, knitting, and it's rainy outside.
On his right hand, a very old looking iron shield.
Additionally, he had two backpacks, the contents of which, I would come to learn, were bizarre. Both were made from dragon skin. As was his cloak. And his gloves. And his thong. God. I wish I could undo the day I happened to see him in his thong.
Legend has it, that in the days of his youth, after a mighty, thousand year old red dragon murdered several residents of his community, he decided to go, all alone, to its lair, nothing but dwarven vengeance on his mind.
There, he grabbed a red steel short sword and an iron shield from among the corpses littering the lair's entrance. And he proceeded to slaughter the red dragon. All alone. He then butchered it, a task which took him several days. And drenched in the blood and fluids of the rotting dragon corpse, he fashioned himself several pieces of equipment from the dragon's tissue and bones.
Afterwards, he returned to his home. He slept for two whole days, and then, without speaking to anyone or explaining his motives, he left. He had become adventurer.
---***---
-"So Aban, where are headed to?" I merrily asked, as we left Cruxowners. "Are we going to meet the lord? Oh my, I've always wanted to meet him! They say he's so dreamy, and that he has such fashion sense!"
-"No. I hate lords."
-"Hmmpf. Why would you hate nobles!?"
There was no reply.
"Are we going to bring a bandit to justice then? Because that sounds dangerous. I heard there's a wolf up north that's gone a bit crazy. Maybe we could go, I can speak to him! I have a way with animals!" I cheerfully commented.
He turned around, an insane grin on his face. "Wolf? Talk? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Good one elf!"
His laughter. Oh, his laughter. It struck me then, for the first time, that something was off with him. Amiss. It showed in his voice.
-"Oh. Ok. Where are we going then?"
-"South. There is a hydra."
-"A hydra? really. Not even funny Aban.", I sneered.
His vacant stare made me realize he was serious.
-"But, but why? We are headed to certain death!"
-"Death? I don't care. I want to make figurines out of its bones. That is what is important."
-"My god, he's a madman!" I muttered to myself. "I should have never left Cruxowners. I'm going back. Never speak to me again you sick midget!"
-"If you leave, I will crush every bone in your body, and then carry you with me so you can witness how I murder everyone you know. If you can stay conscious from the excruciating pain." Now, the way he said this. It was with the most natural calmness I've ever heard on any voice, ever. It was like if instead of muttering a grisly, horrible, horrible death threat, he were calmly discussing how the new saguaro bed we got for the house didn't combine with the larch cupboard.
I almost shat my finely crafted pants.
I didn't need any other encouragement than the dried blood I could see in his now unsheathed sword.
-"Alright! Please, please have mercy of me!" I cried, on my knees. "I've never taken care of an animal yet.." I sobbed to myself, sadly.
-"Also, you are my slave. Your name now is Whiny Minion"
-"What?"
He soundly slapped me in the face with his gauntlet, bruising the cheek, knocking me to the ground. "Thank me for your new name", he said, a sadistic grin in his face.
-"Thank you Aban, for my new name. It's fabulous". I uttered in tears, a hand to my bleeding cheek.
-"I don't like the word my. Never use it again, or else you shall feel pain", he stated matter-of-factly, almost with politeness.
I silently nodded, muted by the terrible perspective of what my previously peaceful, comfortable life had become.
We set out for the hydra lair.
---***---
The journey south was long and tiring. Also, mostly uneventful. The creatures of the forest seemed to fear Aban, and stayed out of our path for the most part.
Only a berserk sasquatch was foolish enough to confront us. I ran towards it, to try and warn him.
-"Leave!!!", I whispered to his ear, after grabbing him by the upper arm. He was really smelly, ugh.
-"Leave! if you value anything at all!" I repeated. But the ape was too instinctual, and instead just bit my arm, leaving a nasty wound.
I proceeded to ran away and hide behind a tree, my eyes closed, my hands pressed against my ear, to muffle out the screams. Of agony, from the sasquatch. Of pleasure, from Aban.
At one point, I lowered my hands, and began to hear wet, squishy sounds. The sasquatch, oddly, had ceased to emit any bloodcurdled screams of pain.
So, with caution, protecting myself with the tree, I decided to take a peek at the scene.
How I wish I hadn't.
Aban, in complete silence, a frown of concentration in his face, was hard at work in an attempt to, apparently, dismember the unconscious ape, limb by limb. His sword slashed at frantic speed, blood squirting everywhere, and body parts flying around with every wet thud. After he cut off a foot, the beast finally expired, with a last groan of relief.
Aban kicked the mutilated corpse in anger.
Then, he realized I was watching him. He turned towards me, and after spitting a sasquatch toe he was apparently chewing on, he calmly said, "I can never get them to stay alive after I cut six pieces. But I keep trying".
And as he manically laughed, I vomited.
---***---
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Topic: An Elf's Chronicle of a journey with Aban Diamondtown the Charms of Society (Read 1271 times)