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It was with the morning chime that Elfric stirred from his bed. It was little better than a few blankets laid out on the ground with his fur lined cloak bundled together neatly for a headrest. The chill of the morning air bit his skin. With a deep and grounding breath, he welcomed the day. His thoughts meandered through the tasks that lay before him. He reached for his tunic, its fabric dyed the color of storm clouds, and adorned with the embroidered symbols of his lineage – a testament to his forebears’ valor.
He paused with the fabric clutched in one hand. With the other, he ran his fingers over the symbols and recalled their tales. The stories of his family, ending with his mother’s odi. His own odi, his maternal grandfather, had still been in his prime when the Ragnalorëk took place. Though he had been away on a hunt for the last few years.
Swiftly he pulled on the tunic and trousers before leaving his space. Rashani was building up the fire in the stove, a small kettle set upon it. Sarnai was at the front flap, waiting for the water cart to come by. Elfric had heard stories of the alajin growing up. They had ranged from stealing babies and children from their beds, to drawing the souls from unattended travelers in the dark of the night. Whispers of dark magic and witchcraft followed everywhere they went.
When he and Gage had first come across them in the desert, Elfric had wanted to speak out about them. About traveling and associating with them. When he had turned to Gage to speak, something had stopped him. The man had been determined to protect them. Elfric had sized up Gage fairly quickly and knew he had no combative abilities, yet he had rushed in and held his ground against an unknown enemy to protect those he had not even known. After that, Elfric felt ashamed of having thought to turn them away.
Elfric was drawn from his thoughts as Rashani laid out a plate of cold bread and meat with a cup of broth. He gave the alajin a silent nod and sat himself down. The family had been a bit standoffish from Gage and himself for the first few days, interacting only when necessary. This had only reinforced the sentiments of the stories. After the first night in the tent, they had opened up considerably. Each of them had shared words with him, instead of speaking through Aeliana.
They clearly sensed his hesitation about them and did not force their company upon him. They did little to address his concerns either, so for now it was a tentative peace that, without the terran, would not have held. Elfric shook the heavy thoughts from his head and broke his fast with the bread and dried meats, washing it down with the broth. As he ate, his mind shifted thought to the sprawling desert around their settlement.
It was vastly different from the cool, green mountains of his home. The settlement of the kumdahari elves gave him hope, however. If their settlement, which had already been in a wastelike environment, had ended up in a wasteland then perhaps his village had ended up in the mountains. Now if only he could find some mountains. In the meantime, he planned to search through the wasteland. If he had ended up here, others may have as well.
…
Elfric did not hate the sun, but he was very unhappy with it. It beat down, pressing upon his skin with its intensity. His eyes stung, not just from the harsh, bright light but also from the sweat that rolled down into them. The sand of the dune beneath his feet shifted slightly as he turned about. A kumdahari stood up on the hill with him, the two of them looking out for the hunting group below.
They had found a den of the weird bug-like creature that had attacked Eshu back in Gage’s home. The rest of the group, two sandstone dwarves and another kumdahari, were carefully working on goading out a few of the sandhoppers out of the holes in the sand to skewer them.
The hunting party had met up just before dawn with everyone else who had been selected to go out into the desert. Each group had been assigned someone with the ability to track or navigate in order to minimize the need to send out a search party. Someone to lookout for hidden dangers, this is what Elfric was assigned to do. Then, there were the actual hunters. It had been one of the little green people to explain all of this, to just a few, and then expected the rest to spread the rules among those who could understand them.
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If your party did not return by sundown, a single party would be sent out to search for you that night. If you were not found, a larger hunting party would be sent out in the same direction the next day. If you were still not found, you were on your own. So far, no full party had been lost, though some hunters had been. With that, he had been assigned to his group and sent out.
The morning had passed uneventfully, and they were forced to hunker down beneath a quickly pitched tent during the hottest part of the day. It was only on their way back to the settlement that one of the dwarves spotted movement. Now, Elfric stood on this dune with Ameikh, their tracker, while the others completed their hunt below.
Elfric wiped the sweat from his brow and took a swig of water. Gage had been kind enough to let him hold onto one of his ‘water bottles’, and Elfric had been glad to be able to take some water with him. Though he was quite tempted to pour it over his head in an attempt to cool down, he refrained from doing so. Instead, he conserved his water and watched the shimmering sands for signs of threat.
…
Elfric stalked down the alleys towards his tent. The scent of blood still clung to him, though the stains from his clothes had been removed. On their return, his hunting party had been attacked by a small pack of hyntas. The scent of the sandhoppers had drawn them in for the attack. Thankfully, his group had been experienced, and they had managed to fend off the pack with little injury and without losing any of their catch.
The celebration came when Elfric and Ameikh had taken down one of the hyntas together. It had been a challenge to drag it back to the settlement, but they had been quite pleased with their pull. The entire party had decided to turn in their sandhoppers for tally and took the hynta to Rosehip’s. The mouse-woman had agreed to divide the meat and cook it for their respective tents for morning delivery. In return, she would get to keep a small selection of meat and other products of the beast.
Ameikh, through Rosehip, had been kind enough to tell Elfric of a cleaning service. They were a pair of elves who looked like siblings. Both had wavy, grey hair that was trimmed short on the sides. Their clothes were grey as well, tunics with billowy pants. One had some stubble on his chin. The only real difference between the two were the points of their ears. The vocal one that Elfric dealt with was Thorion and his ears held a single point, a tak. Einarion, his brother, was a sagn, with his ears split into two points. They were vantar, though not of his clan or village.
He had spent a good deal of time conversing with them as they cleaned his clothes for a few tally. It seemed Einarion had a knack for cleaning magic, which they had put to work cleaning clothes, water free. Elfric had been elated to speak in his native tongue with them. Gage was good with his spell from his god, but it was not the same. Especially without his friend around, then he could understand no one at all.
As he carried onward to his tent, he stopped and turned towards a stall that was starting to close down for the night. “A moment.” Elfric called out and stepped up to the blanket. The sandstone dwarf stopped to look at him, but did not respond. The elf was certain they would not be able to speak with each other, but thankfully that should not be too difficult a barrier.
Elfric pointed to the object that had caught his attention. The dwarf held up a hand, all five digits spread. With his other hand he pointed to the indicated five and then held up three more. Three sets of five. Fifteen tally. The elf sighed, he had only made eighteen tally from turning in the sandhoppers, but he had earned his tent some meat. With a curt nod Elfric handed over his token. The dwarf transferred the tally and handed it back, gesturing to the object.
Slipping his token away, Elfric picked the object up and made his way back to the tent. The elf was glad to see Gage had not returned yet. He held a gestured conversation with the alajin and when he showed them what he had bought, they were more than happy to help him choose a spot. Along the wall of the tent, in the corner where the family’s space met with Gage’s, they placed it.
A small, generic shrine made of sandstone was set on a low table in the corner. Taking a deep breath, Elfric sat before it.
“Kin, kind one, I call upon you from the windswept wastes where your mercy has taken root. In the stillness of this moment, I offer my gratitude. In your honor, I lay this offering.” Elfric placed a cup of broth before the shrine. “I walk with your mercy.”
Elfric sat for a moment longer, unsure if his prayer had been enough, given that those that he recalled from his youth were more… grand. He would have to ask Gage more about the god that had saved not only his life, but the lives of everyone who called this tent home.