After meeting with Yami, Orblock contiunued the way he was heading in the first place. Afer had come to him, reporting on strange singing he had heard in the woods.
Stepping outside, he saw two elves closing in on the fortress from a distance.
They were indeed singing:
We come from the marsh,
Where life is harsh.
Have crossed many river,
Passed many a hill,
To trade some cloth.
And enjoying it still.
We come from the swamp,
Where the weather is damp.
We bring you a plant
It's fibers are strong
It's magical essence
Produced this song
We've come to you now,
And we will come again.
So bring out your goods,
And.. Aw man.
It seems I've forgotten my lines again.
As they came closer, Orblock noticed that those two elves looked like no elf he had seen before. If anything, all elves were pale. But the two elves that had now arrived at the base entrance were pale even for elves. Their long blonde hairs fell to their waists. They were wearing long white robes, sandals and socks. But, what really shocked Orblock: The male elf had a beard!
'HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, ELF!' Orblock didn't like elves.
'This place holds nothing for you! Besides that, the King has forbidden us to trade with you for your worthless rope reeds! Begone now unless you want me to come and show you the way to your precious woods!' Orblock had climbed up the wall and now was shouting at the elves, striking his most menacing pose.
'Did you hear that, Lali, dear?'
'Yes Oda, I heard it! He said woods!' The female Elf didn't seem to be impressed at all by the Judge's threat.
'My. Oh, my. Another lost soul.' Oda sighed.
'<cough> Dear sir dwarf!' The male Elf had stepped closer to the wall and was staring at Orblock's boots.
'Allow me to set something straight, sir dwarf. It seems that every damned outpost we visit in this area wrongfully mistakes us for wood Elves.
No, no, sir. We are marsh Elves.
I must admit, we do seem to have gotten a bit lost and are not too familiar with these parts. But, surely, that is no reason to be treated with such inhospitality? We are familiar with the ways of our lesser cousins, the wood Elves, but we assure you that we have no liking for them either. We marsh Elves have always seen wisdom in pragmatics.
Okay, so the wildlife is indeed improtant for the balance of nature. But would it do us, the protectors of nature, any good if we went all whiny over some dead beast's bones if that made us miss out on a good business deal? If we don't survive in the first place, who will be there to save nature? You tell me, sir.
We just don't buy them bones, since there's no market for them. We have all the wood we need to make us anything.
Okay, sure. Now and then one of our druids will get the idea of sending some wet-behind-the-ears Elven prince to your outposts demanding you hug the trees instead of cutting them down. But do you really think he cares? Nah. It's just formality. Do you really think, sir, we would waste our time to come and count your trees? Come on. That would be bad for business, too.
As for the rope reeds, I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about. Do the wood elves still use that rubbish?
No. No, sir. What we have here on our muskoxen is the finest quality hemp cloth.
No stronger plant fibre available on the market.
So please, sir. I urge you to look beyond whatever feud you have with common wood elves and accept the gift of our friendship. Care for some high spirits, sir?'
Orblock felt that if he heard the dreaded 'sir' one more time, he would explode.
'The trade depot is over there', he grumbled.
[ June 10, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]
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Topic: Shinfusur Ilir Toral (a bloody deathrow fortress)Kills:37 (Read 18292 times)