Official superhuman status confirmed. Ulric had held suspicions on the matter but events had tended to keep him too busy to stew on it. There was no way he'd still be alive if he was remotely normal. That very first charge of the [Forest Lord] would have been the end of things, to say nothing of what followed. Any of a dozen encounters in the glade could have done him in. The damned [Bolt Deer] would probably have gotten him in their stampede.
Meeting the Elves had changed his perspective greatly. Had shown him the limits of sheer physical ability. Brighteyes had slaughtered monsters nearly his own size, outnumbered five to one, with a dagger. Geyrt had performed acrobatics and marksmanship that defied reason. Had flowed like liquid. He didn't have a tower tall enough to see the horizon that was their sire. And if Brighteyes' mother's wife punch was any indication, there was far more to them as well.
"You are not surprised." A crystalline voice range out.
Ulric nearly jumped. It was the first time the Sphinx had spoken. Her voice was angelic. A belltone pure, high, and rich. He was so startled he couldn't say anything for a moment. She had leaned forward as she spoke and the gap in her dress very nearly swallowed him. Very carefully he drew his gaze up to her face and locked it there. Great googly moogly, quantity is a quality all of its own. He couldn't tell by her expression if she'd noticed the impact her change in position had on him. A gloating smirk on Bald'rt's face told him he had. Ulric very nearly expected the [Lord of the Deep Wood] to waggle his eyebrows at him. Bastard.
Ulric took a moment to compose himself. He was so goddamn out of depth here. He had no business being in this room talking to these people. But this was where the path led and he had to do his best.
"I have suspected, for some time, that there was an anomaly with myself. Aside from the entire concept of being ripped from one life and placed into another. The [Forest Lord] was not a creature within reach of a normal human. No matter that its arrogance left it completely open to attack, it should have been beyond me. Every experience since has only reinforced this hypothesis. But there's nothing I particularly can or want to do about that situation so I haven't bothered to worry about it. Varda has proven itself to be almost hilariously dangerous. I want every advantage to resist its challenges." He explained.
Which statement turned his thoughts back to the utter necessity of establishing some kind of trade for resources and a tutor. He wasn't ready to face this world. Not really. He'd lived as a virtual hermit too afraid of the exploding population of monsters and dangerous animals to explore the canopy truly and the forest floor had become increasingly hazardous. He'd relied tremendously on his guiding Elven friend to prevent being eaten on the way to civilization. He stumbled around combining scientific conceptual knowledge and barely understood magical power to hammer out spells that could kill him. In two cases at least he'd produced spells that probably should have been given the care of a watchmaker, rather than his cludging around.
"This returns us to our current topic of discussion regarding trading materials and some sort of mentorship." Ulric prompted.
Nodding the Crimson Sphinx finally reclined to ease her…presence… in the room, before announcing with perfect clarity
"Then let us start with our debts. You have returned our child to us. In exchange, though this is no fault of yours, you have taken another child. I call this debt canceled. Our daughter will provide adequate protection to you, beyond anything you could have bargained, and thus we owe no obligation of any more of our people to train yourself to greater power."
Now this was fae all over. Titania over there was outlining the terms and conditions. Ulric considered her argument briefly. Ulric hadn't helped Brighteyes because he'd wanted anything so that "debt" hadn't really even existed so far as he was concerned. That they would view it so wasn't in his control. If that was reason enough to negate the clear dissatisfaction the Elf queens had with Bald'rt's decisions, and perhaps avoid any indirect fire from their displeasure as a result, it was a pure win. Best not to say too much regarding that though, let them think he'd done them a favor, the best negotiations were where both parties thought they were winning.
"That is fair. It does not change my intention, however. I still desire to open trade relations with the Iriel'en and to find someone who can teach me to use my power without destroying myself with it." Ulric's declaration was taken with neutrality, a slight dip of her chin indicating that the Sphinx was satisfied that this aspect of the bargain was closed.
The rest seemed to be similarly at peace. Bald'rt had even relaxed slightly in his seat, apparently glad that his decision would not cause him undo friction with his wives in the future.
Ulric raised the next point.
"Your people are at war. I hold no love for the ones who have provoked you but I do have some fondness for your people, both from the companionship of Brighteyes and for the hospitality of Bald'rt Iriel Chief. I have learned that some of the materials I have harvested from the [Ancient Glade] are of use to your people in this respect. Of particular mention the cores of the beasts I hunt, their bones, hides, and what useful organs I know. I have plants from the glade that make potent poisons, even beyond that of the [Striped Bark Snake] which I had the misfortune to taste."
Pausing a moment, he then deliberately placed his trident on the floor and reached into his pack to remove the items therein that he'd brought for, if not this very purpose, a similar one. In a minute there lie neatly sorted stacks of items which drew the attention of all in the room, royals, warriors, and attending staff alike. He felt like a street hawker, displaying his wares.
Ulric gestured to a pile of bone objects: polished hunting knives, like the one he carried himself, hollow tipped arrow heads, awls, chisels, axe heads, and a few raw claws or teeth, the last he possessed.
"These are made of the bones of the [Forest Lord]. I'm given to understand that they are of great value for their hardness and strength. I have a limited supply of the raw bones still, though many are of odd shape, such as vertebrae, bones of the digits, and such. Even so I trust that the Elven bone workers can find use for them, even if only decorative use."
Next, he gestured to the glassresin broadhead arrowpoints, folding razors, and some wrist sized cylinders which he unscrewed, a feature that made eyes light up. It had been a revelation that the heat softened glassresin could be molded. Rotating the cylinders against a bone chisel had cut matching threads which let two hollow cylinders screw together to make hollow tubes. A hollowed thigh bone and some other similarly straight bones had served as his molds for these cylinders, just heat the glassresin and pour. Brilliant simplicity. It came to him while he dripped melted glassresin in a hollowed arrowhead to seal the bottom.
"Glassresin is a material I haven't seen anywhere in your structures. This comes from the rootsap of one of the giant trees on the plateau, specifically the fallen one which created my glade. Cold it is extremely hard, but brittle, good for cutting tools, rigid seals, and containers. Hot it can be shaped, melted, and molded like wax. These containers are water and airtight, they are especially good for storing things you don't want getting moist like herbs. Speaking of which, I brought several that might be of interest. This one I call Nerveroot. It paralyzes within a few seconds starting at the extremities and working its way up to the chest. A dose kills a [Bolt Deer] within a minute. The root is far more potent than the leaves, I have both here. The next I call Heartbane because the very, very small dose I took made my heart rhythm unsteady and the [Glade Wolf] I shot with it dropped instantly, its heart torn apart. This last one is nonlethal, I called it Burning Gut because it forces your stomach to empty and your bowels to water with incredible pain for about half a day, don't ask how I found out. There are a variety of others, especially mushrooms, but I don't know what they all do and I couldn't test them fully without risking killing myself, I know that they are likely highly toxic based on my limited testing and the strict refusal of any creature to consume them."
There was little chance that the herbs would prove useful themselves, but it might stimulate the interest of some of their alchemists or whatever the fuck passed for pharmacy in this place. Everyone knew potent medicines were frequently found in isolated environments.
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Next, he pointed to the small stack of fist sized cores, the great crystal of the [Forest Lord] sitting prominent, the size of a soccer ball.
"I frankly have no idea what to do with these monster and beast cores. I harvested them because I felt like all the parts of the kills I made should be used but I don't know what they're good for. Still, you all probably have uses for them."
Lastly he indicated his bowstave and the opus of his crafting potential, a brace or hand drill. Which was probably laughable to the level of wood craft these folk possessed, but he demonstrated its use against a steelwood board. The Glassresin bit cut into that nicely, producing a perfect hole in a minute.
"Last is my technique for making a bowstave from layers of steelwood, bone, and glue. It's probably got far more power than the normal wood staves I've seen around here, unless you lot are using something really special. Similarly, I can show you how to make this type of hand drill, although I don't think that one will be interesting to you unless you are boring holes with chisels and files."
He strung the bow with his braided tendon string, grunting lightly at the effort to do so. It had sat unstrung for too long and he'd need to limber it. A couple of fierce exertions later doing so and he held it out for someone to test. He'd have to tell them they should warm the things next to the fire for a bit before stringing them.
Bald'rt gestured for one of his guards to give it a go and the female warrior who'd laughed when Brighteyes retold of his slander against Geyrt stepped forward to take it. She brought it up and gave a pull which attempt failed. She looked at him disbelievingly and then refirmed her grip, widened her stance, and drew with intent. The recurve creaked slightly and all could see the effort it cost to make the pull. She held it for a couple of seconds and slowly returned it to ready before speaking.
"It pulls nearly like a Heartwood core, but stiffer with better flex. It will have power. But Hunters and Warriors will have to train its use, it's a heavy thing to draw. We will want these, my lord." She rendered her verdict.
Bald'rt and his first wife were now interested. A more powerful bow than they currently had? And not selling the stave but its method of creation? Now this was a thing of value.
First Wife-san pulled her ruby eyes away from the bow. And addressed Ulric with barely concealed desire.
"Some of these things we can use. Others, while precious, will not be available in sufficient quantity or time to change the outcome of the coming conflict. Therefore, let us consider only those items that can provide an immediate benefit to our cause. The rest we will negotiate for when we are able to transport peoples and goods between Iriel and your own glade. The cores, the bowyer methods, and the construction of this hand drill. These we will trade for until peace allows the Iriel'en to move freely again. What price would you ask for them?"
Ulric mulled that over. Again, it was a reasonable position. Trade would not really be possible until peace had returned. Winter was on their doorstep. Ulric didn't know much about how warfare was conducted on Varda but his historical knowledge, limited though it was, had winter as a time when wars generally ground to a halt due to the sheer difficulty of fielding and supplying troops through the cold. Magical shenanigans might be possible to reverse that truth, although Ulric couldn't immediately think of how, unless there were weather wards, spells to prevent the roads from becoming impassable, and ways to prevent illness from spreading in close packed camps, when the damp and cold favored it. That meant they were months out from even starting the armed conflict. No telling how long it would take for that to shake out, though, if the mercenary poachers who had taken Brighteyes were an indication of their average strength, the men who had instigated this war were about to learn a hard lesson. A couple of dozen Geyrt's would shred a battalion. Turn their advance into the forest into a death march. If Bald'rt did what Ulric had a feeling he could do, they'd need a thousand soldiers to stop him.
He realized he was overthinking it, no decisions needed to be made on that front just now. Ulric stilled his hands and refocused on the matter at hand.
What did he really need right now? What did he need that he could not obtain for himself from his glade? He could make most of the things that would improve his comfort with but a little time and some not so specialized materials. The water wheels especially tripped his mind down cobwebbed corridors of his mechanical engineering degree. Transmissions, gears, belts, the methods of transforming one form of energy into another. Steam. He was almost certain that he could generate a Sterling engine that would far outstrip whatever mechanisms were at work in the mills here. Unless they somehow used magic, in which case he was probably never going to make something that some impossible Elven mage hadn't already whomped up. They couldn't just use magic for everything. Could they? Damnit he'd gone off rail again. Didn't matter what things he didn't know magic could do, he knew what he needed and that was part of the puzzle. He didn't have any use for hoarding things, if it would secure an advantage. He replied evenly.
"Winter comes to the lands. I have prepared the necessary supplies to wait out its bitterest duration, so long as the winter here does not endure beyond the three months with which I am familiar. I must return to my home soon, or see it ransacked by the beasts when they find it undefended. Allow me to grant your people the cores and objects I have brought as a gift towards your war efforts, perhaps they will be found useful enough that you decide you would like more of them sooner than later. This should secure future discussions of trade rights between us."
Brighteyes' mother raised her eyebrows at this. And Ulric was briefly worried he was being presumptuous about the value of the things he'd brought.
"My husband spoke true; you are over humble. These goods can be put to use now, none of the products of the glade you have assembled have been ill chosen and, indeed, some of them are irreplaceable. Are you sure that you would not bargain harder for them?" She asked with a slight disbelief in her voice.
Ulric immediately shook his head, he had been prepared to lose everything he'd brought here, if only to secure the good will of these people.
"Things are things. I am only a single man, I do not need three knives when I can only wield one. No. More than things what I need most in this world is knowledge. What has been my greatest enemy thus far is ignorance. I lack the common sense knowledge of even a child of this world. Let us trade knowledge for knowledge. I want to know about cores, about magic, how to move, mold, and use mana. I want to know about the seasons, their duration, about the plants, beasts, and monsters that roam the land. I want to know about the races and their histories, the folk who occupy Varda that I might encounter should I decide to travel this wide world. What I hope to purchase with these goods is good will. What I hope to purchase with my knowledge is the power to grow strong enough to stay alive and protect whatever I deem worthy of protecting." Ulric spoke honestly, from his heart.
There's power in truth. In saying something real, when all around you know it is real. Ulric had lived through over forty years of people saying things they didn't mean, telling small lies, obfuscating, ass covering, out-right deceiving. It made him sick. It was one of the reasons he started to hate interacting with people. You just had to watch them lie to your face and you were expected to take it, just let them speak nonsense as if it were hardened fact. He was convinced, to his bones, that humanity in his old world was doomed, if for no other reason than that they would eventually lock themselves into a situation where the only way out would be for everyone to accept a fact that was unpleasant or be destroyed. And they would choose to believe a beautiful lie, rather than that fact. They were insane.
So it was that when he discovered that the Elves tolerated absolutely no lies within their society he had found a people with whom dialogue was meaningful. Every perspective was valid, held value for being real. Even when those perspectives clashed, were divergent, were not aligned to one another's interests. It created actual argument, true communication. Because at least you were guaranteed to be speaking towards what the other person actually thought was real, rather than the projected insanity in which they tried to cloak the world.
When Ulric had finished speaking his desires he harbored no doubts that his intent would be heard and understood. That didn't guarantee a favorable outcome. It did guarantee that no one would believe he had an objective other than the one he had stated. Which was good enough for him.
Brighteyes had nodded along to his declared intent. They had spoken of such things around the hearth of his home in the glade, those nights that they spent discussing the future. He had said that these ambitions were "properly Elven" and would not be ill received. And indeed it was so.
Bald'rt clapped his hands once loudly, the echo ringing through the halls.
"Well said [Lord of the Ancient Glade]. Things are things. What use have they but to advance our interests? I will agree to this. It is worth the loss of a few experienced soldiers and mages training time to secure a perpetual improvement in our armory. Better still, this, Brace? Yes this brace is a fine craftmanship. Holes are, in fact, carved using chisels, files, and saws but this? This device produces a bore of precise dimension in a fraction of the time. Only the more experienced craftsmen who can directly manipulate their materials through spellwork could do it faster." the Elf lord announced cheerfully.
He then threw a curveball.
"You say you need to return to your glade? I will offer an alternative. Stay in Irielhos for the Winter, your aid to my son and gifts offered warrant no less than that hospitality. Lumyt'seit's description of your abode is…rustic. I do not mean to insult, but you have barely achieved even the vaguest modicum of comfort have you not?"
Ulric couldn't deny that. He was living like a mountain man.
"I cannot refute that. It's been a rough few months trying to restore something like civilization to my home. I was on the cusp of some drastic upgrades before I came across your son but I will freely admit events have thrown my plans to the wind. I do not go into this season as well secured as I intended." Ulric confirmed.
Still Ulric didn't want to just abandon the camp or its stocks, the beasts would decimate the place if he wasn't around with all that food stored.
"May I make an amendment? Your offer of wintering is…I'll admit it, it's a kindness I wouldn't have asked. I can survive the winter as I am, but I do not claim it will be pleasant. Could we arrange a detachment of warriors to return to the glade, extract the stores and perhaps even more of the supplies I'd intended to trade, and return to wait out the winter? I did not bring anything more with me than I deemed necessary to travel and make good on a bargain, not that I really have so very much to begin with. Still, my camp requires some amount of attention to avoid being ruined before my return." He reasoned.
Brighteyes' mother answered in place of her husband.
"That is fair. You interrupted your own preparations to meet the needs of our son. It is not out of the question to devote a small contingent to settle your home and provide for your comfort during this winter. We will see it done. The Winter's Herald is at our door, however. The return will have to wait for the storm to pass, then we can make the arrangements. You will join us for the festival yes? I promise it will be an experience. I cannot even remember the last time one of your kin partook of the event." The golden consort said warmly.
Bald'rt confirmed his wife's words.
"This is so, travel during the storm is unwise. Fortunate you were that you managed to reach this place before its onslaught. I will have a group of Warriors ready at festival's end. It will be no difficulty to trek to the [Forest of Forgotten]. Indeed, I think most would revel at the opportunity. It has been a long time since we were able to pilgrimage through the Elder trees. The winds of change are in the branches of Iriel now. But change has come before, and change will come again, and through it all our roots will hold deep. The Iriel'en will stand to watch the seasons of this world come and pass. But enough, the Twins are over-head, join us for lunch, Glade Chief." The Elf lord proclaimed.
And, just like that, Ulric had become a guest of the Elves. See? Good things happen to people who do good things.