"Gifts of Farewell" Log Date: 6/27/02 Log Cast: Vardeus, Wayfound, Tefin, Shay'la Log Intro: The camp inhabited by humans and elves on the beach of the Vastdeep Water has been in an uproar ever since the attack upon it of a pack of magically warped dogs -- but in the midst of the stepped-up preparations to move, there are still occasional moments for conversation and the exchange of ideas. Prompted by his needing to question Shay'la about whether any of her original tribe might have had the ability to make the monsters that attacked them, Vardeus has discovered several more shocking things about the elves... and has turned to Wayfound for clarification on, though he is not exactly able to admit this even to himself, the matter of whether her people are in fact gods. With a topic like this at hand, it is perhaps inevitable that Tefin, the recent newcomer to the camp who seems as enamored of knowledge as Wayfound, would be drawn into the debate -- and Shay'la as well, who set Vardeus off on this line of inquiry, though she has other reasons for seeking out the Captain this night.... ---------- Beach on the VastDeep Water The pale sand is full of river-born crystal and gleams with tiny rainbow lights in the early morning light. Wide and inviting, the sands stay warm long after sunset. There are drift logs here, and a large boulder pushes its shoulders above the surface of the sand. You can see footprints, small bare footprints, leading into the water and out. There is dense foliage to the north that follows the coastline closely where it bends to the northwest. The twin stars of Timmorn's Eyes begin to come out as the dimming red light of sunset fills the chill winter skies. Contents: Tefin Shay'la(#9063PJXce$0) Blizzard Salmakis Raven's Tent(#6222Je) Yellow Campsite (#691AJLe) The Windrider(#1655AJae) Seasong's Tent (#6051JUem) Obvious exits: Along the Beach Forest Up the Shore Water Great River "Ye're about as clear as mud, lass," Vardeus Alirreus grumbles at Wayfound this night. On an initial hearing he might sound aggravated, though there's no real rancor in his voice. Weariness, yes. Confusion, oh definitely. But no rancor. The Vraeyan Captain and the young Wolfrider are at the main campfire, now that night has fallen and the afternoon watches have given over to the evening ones. And Wayfound, her brow crinkling in consternation, blurts, "I do not intend to be unclear; however, that _is_ the best answer I can provide you to your question. Given that I have not had the opportunity to speak directly to Timmain herself or view the Scroll of Colors in the Palace, I can only go by what my elders have taught me, and what I observed in the Egg in Blue Mountain." "What was the question? I only picked up the last part of Wayfound's answer." comes a voice from just beyond the corona of the campfire. Slowly, Tefin moves into view, pursing his lips a bit at the visible consternation on Wayfound's face. It's not often that she get a look like that...in fact, this is the first time he's ever seen her unable to explain anything fully. Nodding to Vardeus civilly, he takes a seat near the fire, but in easy conversation range. "Perhaps a different point of view would help? Shay'la was looking for Vardeus, as it grows near time for her to leave. So many things to do. She approaches, just in time to catch mention of the Egg. She appears from shadow, on mostly silent steps, though likely Wayfound would know she is there before the light touches her. "Still on about the High Ones Vardeus?" She finds a place to sit and looks into the fire, "The Egg is a most fascinating thing... easy to become lost in... such magnificent work... sometimes I envy him." Wayfound does scent the other elves coming, and even as they both draw near, the Wolfrider's ear twitches a bit and her head turns to each; to both, she proffers a nod of solemn greeting. It's Vardeus who speaks first, then, saying, "Ach, well, I thought I'd be after askin' Wayfound here what she c'n tell me, since she's a sharp 'un, but maybe I'm just _particularly_ stupid tonight." He thrusts a finger skyward and finishes, brow furrowed, "Wayfound says ye elves come from _there_." "That is what I am given to understand," Wayfound mumbles, actually sounding a trifle sheepish. "Where the _gods_ live," Vardeus continues. And Wayfound, it might be noted, seems to be blushing. "To that, I cannot speak, given that I have no evidence..." Perhaps Tefin will try and clear up the matter with his own non-go-backish point of view, and perhaps save Wayfound from blushing her ears off. "According to our tales, Vardeus, long ago we came to this place in a floating palace from somewhere very distant. I can't be more specific because, frankly, all I have to work with is what my people's legends are and what I have learned from observation." He glances to Wayfound, then back to Vardeus, finger still thrust into the air. "Tell me, how were your people created? Did the gods place you in this land, or were you just there?" It's odd, an elf using the term "god," and Tefin's not entirely sure what it means...perhaps high one...but hopefully by putting Vardeus in their shoes, he may be able to grasp where they came from. Shay'la reaches up a hand to push her hood back, able to tolerate the fading rays of light with only a slight squint. She removes her gloves and picks up a nice sized rock. With just a little effort it begins to shift in form, slowly taking on the shape of the palace. When it is finished she sets it down, "The High Ones came in that... from somewhere beyond the stars. That is what we know... We know not of gods or even much of the world the High Ones came from." "Such I have endeavored to explain to the ((Captain))," Wayfound puts in, "but for all that we appear to have mostly breached the barrier of our respective languages, I am apparently doing an inadequate job of putting the necessary concepts into appropriate words--" Vardeus snorts to this, but not unkindly, and he shoots the Wolfrider maiden a look of what can only be approval. "Dinnae ye fret, lass, ye should ha' heard me when I was first learnin' yer words. Shay'la c'n speak t' that. Just takes a while to ram 'em throuh me head, is all." Now he looks all around at the others, and blows out a breath. "Well, I c'n tell ye of our gods back home, an' how Vrae was made, but that's Vrae and not here, and I dinnae know if our gods helped make _here_ or nae." Thus speaks a man who's had the tenets of his ways of worship fundamentally shaken, in the last year and a half. "Perhaps that would give us a better understanding of where you came from and what you and your people believe." Tefin offers quietly, not really sure if he can explain something that Wayfound has failed to do so eloquently enough for the sky-eyed captain to comprehend. Sure, basic concepts are easily shared, and Tefin even has learned a thing or two about the new technologies that the Vraenans have brought to this new place, but philisophical discussions (tefin's favorite, by the way) are still beyond the scope. Shay'la grins, "You weren't that hopeless... You learned fairly quickly.... I still need a little help with your language though." She does a passable job though. "As for your people and where they came from... just tell me you do not have a god named Gotara and I will be most happy." Well as happy as Shay is prone to get. She reaches into a bag she brought with her and pulls out some small tools and what looks like an ebony statue and begins doing some touch up work on it... though why she is using the small tools and not magic is anyone's guess. Vardeus, too, has his hands occupied -- by his lyre, which he hasn't picked up in days, but which he's taken up tonight because of simply desperately needing to have the object he treasures most out of his meager possessions close to hand. "Gotara?" he repeats, then shakes his head as he runs his fingertips over the strings. "Nae Gotara, in Vrae. It's many gods we've got, but none of 'em called that. I ken some o' th' local ones o' my kind hae been after killin' ye elves, in Gotara's name -- Wayfound told me that, too." To this, Wayfound proffers a tiny, shy smile, each corner of her mouth fractionally turning up, while the human continues thoughtfully, "Ye ken, aye, that for stories ye're really _best_ talkin' t' Arnos? He's the best ((bard)) amongst us, but he's on watch, sae f'r now, it's me. And I guess I c'n start wi' what gods we _do_ have. T'answer yer question, Tefin-lad, s'far as I know, 'twas th' Allmother that made us, in Vrae." Tefin turns that title over in his mind a couple of times before nodding slightly. "I assume that from the name of this god, she created, or gave birth to, all of the other gods and formed your land of Vrae?" Shay'la simply listens while she smooths the features of the statue, occassionally looking at Vardeus as he speaks. She doesn't comment just yet, simply listen. Her hands working the stone statue even while she isn't looking at it. She's been doing this a long time. "Aye," Vardeus affirms for Tefin, bobbing his shaggy head while strumming a soft scale of chords, just to work his fingers. "Th' Allmother bore Andros Skyfather, Lerain Seamother... Seid, Kalrioce, Kelthes, an' th' rest. An' th' waters we ((sail)) on, an' th' land we live on when we're nae ((sailin')), or so we say back home. _We_ made Vrae, an' her ((cities)), but as t' makin' us... aye, th' Allmother made us, too. Th'other gods were Her firstborn..." And he slants Shay'la a look, brows arching a bit, as he is aware of the other meaning this particular word has for elves, now. "An' we, her second, though I'm startin' tae wonder if we should be countin' ourselves third." It's obvious that Vardeus, in his experiences here in this new land with these new creatures, is searching for a place to categorize them in his world view. It seems that perhaps he has discovered that categorization. "it is an interesting thought, Vardeus, but unfortunately it is just that. As wayfound has said, we have no firsthand evidence about where we came from, save what our elders taught us sitting around the fires. As far as we know, this could be true..." It also couldn't, but Tefin doesn't share that thought. Shay'la arches a brow slightly at Tefin's words and at his tone. She is underworlder and used to picking up that which is not spoken. Of course to each his own opinion... that much Shay'la has learned on the surface. She has no reason to doubt the story of the High Ones. She does give a nod to Vardeus when he looks at her, but otherwise keeps her thoughts very much to herself. Wayfound, for her part, just keeps smiling ever so slightly; her eyes still look a trifle sheepish, but there can be no denying that she is not only actively paying attention to this discussion, she's taking great pleasure in it. She sits forward a bit there by the fire, her ambergreen gaze darting from face to face as she listens in. "Indeed," she says, "as Tefin points out, there is a lack of evidence to support that theory, especially given that Arnos has already explained to me that your people have no knowledge whatsoever of us; it would therefore stand to reason, would it not, that if your Allmother had a hand in our creation, there would be no way for you to know such a thing without her communicating it. If, in fact, gods communicate; on this point I fear I am unclear." "You, me, an' three quarters o' Shalros, lass," Vardeus answers her, feeling like laughing for the first time in days. He does, though his baritone chuckle comes out a little rusty. "There's some as has th' job, like Xhosa, to look f'r signs from th' gods an' explain 'em to the rest of us. But if ye ask me, a man c'n try t' talk t' th' gods all he likes. Sometimes they listen. Sometimes they dinnae. But I've never seen a god actually talk back." There is, of course, the question of whether gods even exist or not, but let's be perfectly honest, that's a can of worms that Tefin absolutely does not want to open at this time. Vardeus's people have their beliefs in gods and goddeses as a central part of their life, and the last thing that Tefin would want to do is question that most fundamental of beliefs. Besides, this conversation is fun enough without bringing that up, now isn't it? "Just signs then, seen by people trained to interpret them? is it like that ((writing)) that you have shown me, or is it something more subtle?" Tefin says "Or is this a question I should ask Xhosa?" Shay'la focuses in on a tricky bit of work in her carving, even as she voices her first question, "Not all of your people can interpret the signs of your gods? Then how would you know if those who do are actually speaking true?" Faith is not something found in abundance where Shay grew up. Damned good questions, from both Tefin and Shay'la, and Vardeus says so. "((Damned)) good questions," he drawls, shaking his head a bit. "I dinnae know how Xhosa's people do it, but back home at least in th' bigger ((cities)), most o' th' time ev'rybody's too busy just livin' their lives t' be payin' much attention t' signs from th' gods. But ye go to some o' th' smaller places, like Franni's ((city))... aye, they'll tell ye there that what Seid has t' say on growin' things is what ev'ry last one of 'em is worryin' on. _Me_... I'm a ((sailor)). I ken ((sailin')), and aye, Tefin--" He leans over, reaching out with one big hand to write out the Vraeyan characters for his name in the sand. "And I ken ((writin')). _That's_ me name, an' it's always me name, and doesnae change wi' th' whim o' the gods." Tefin bends down and watches, fascinated, that the marks in the sand represent the name of something tangible. "So the signs from the gods are always changing, but the words and concepts that you (( write)) always remain the same?" he looks from the word, to Vardeus, to the word again. "I do have one question about your word pictures, Vardeus; does each symbol represent a single word, or a part of a word?" Shay'la looks as well, definitely fascinated with the whole writing thing. The closest she knows is the Underworld symbols that each house has, and the personal sigils. Those are constants, but even they are nothing like the Vraeyan writing. Wayfound's smile broadens, ever so slightly. "Arnos has spoken to me in depth of this," she murmurs, possibly not surprisingly, given that that particular Vraeyan is the expert amongst them when it comes to languages. But she does not elaborate, deferring to the Captain instead. "They're ((letters))," Vardeus says, starting to grin a bit more broadly now himself when he sees the elves all seem to perk up. Gesturing along the row of loosely scrawled characters, he goes on, "Each 'un is f'r a piece o' how me name sounds. V...a...r...d... ye ken? Same f'r me last name, as well." "Last name?" Tefin asks, reaching out in front of him to copy the letters in front of Vardeus to the sand before him, making a pretty nice looking V, but pretty much failing at the rest of the letters. this requires further study, most definately. "Vardeus..y" he asks, glancing quickly at the grinning Wayfound before turning his attention to the big man. "You have more than one name?" Shay'la arches a brow, "Two names.. What is the second name?" Of course Shay would understand it if put in the category of Houses. "We have houses in the Underworld... My family was of Uthraedo... and there are others." The human nods easily, gesturing back behind him towards the shelters and encompassing not only the passing figures of Torgan and Valnek, stumbling off to sleep in the mens' shelter, but the Vraeyan portion of the camp at large as well. "Aye, most of us do, nae all o' us, but most," he answers Tefin, before turning a still broader grin upon Shay'la. "_Aye_! 'Tis like that. We have our first names, an' our last names. Vardeus, that's _me_... Alirreus, me family. Some folks back home... they're gettin' Houses too if ye're usin' th' word I think ye're usin', but that's mostly th' big 'uns, like Tiana's. Some o' th' families back home, they start joinin' up, they make a House." Wayfound offers, then, "My mother has two names... Rillwhisper and Wolfbringer... but I daresay a more appropriate parallel amongst the Wolfriders is the names of the Holts. We have many... but we are all Wolfriders." Tefin nods in understanding. "I see. A way to show solidarity among the group, and a way to differentiate self from other groups. My people, the Go-Backs, do not have names longer than a short syllable or two. PErhaps it is due to the short life cycle of the common go-back, but we have never found need for a second name, save nicknames. I do see how it could be advantageous, though." Shay'la nods her head, achieving some understanding, "Houses are family groups... those from a weaker house may join a stronger one... Like House Uthraedo merged with House Elessardo some time ago... if I understood Or... Blackhawk correctly." Perhaps that is why she reminds you of nobility Vardeus.... the Underworld is structured just like noble houses. Nobility is as safe a word as any to describe what comes to mind when the human considers Shay'la; certainly, it's safer than a few other words that came to mind when he found out how old she is. Nobility, at least, keeps her in a realm where he is comfortable functioning. Tefin, however, gets an outright wink from him, as the Go-Back offers his interpretation of the uses of having multiple names. "Aye, Shay'la, and aye, Tefin -- an' moreover, if ye have a Vardeus in three different families, ye know what to call out if ye have t' call f'r one of 'em and ye dinnae want all three!" The little go-back can't help but grin back at the huge human. "I could see how getting all three vardeus' coming to dinner could ger troublesome. It saved food by adding another name." Shay'la rises to her feet, "I shall be right back." She then heads off to her tent, returning a few minutes later with a cloth wrappped object. She sets it in front of Vardeus, "This is for you... a going away gift if you like... Actually there are two gifts." She pulls out a a dagger with a ruby top, "I gave this to Stormdrift after he became my soul brother.. Skyflame gave it back to me. Here is my sigil, and this other is my House... Uthraedo. I want you to have it. As for the other... I hope that you like it." Once unwrapped you will find it is a hand carved statue of the Windrider, with you and Tiana on the deck, the wind blowing in your hair. "I hope it came out okay, I had to ask your crew what she looked like.... and one of them wrote the name for me. I hope I copied it correctly." Shay is definitely a talented artist. "High ones..." Tefin whispers softly at the sight of the sculpture and of the dagger. Two very valuable gifts from a very talented (and old) elf. "I've never seen such fine work." Wayfound gasps out loud -- and Vardeus blinks, before his ocean eyes go positively round with wonder, and his fingers slip off his lyre strings, making them jangle with his shock. "Shay'la, I... I..." In a heartbeat, Vardeus goes from the deliberately cheerful talkativeness he's maintained tonight, as a ward against the nagging depression over the loss of Markin and Nefis, to being stricken almost mute in his flabbergasted shock. With an effort he collects himself enough to set his instrument gently aside, before he reaches a hand out to the stone ship, his fingertips trembling slightly, his eyes beginning to turn suspiciously wet. "She's... perfect. Just as she used t' be..." Tefin can't say a word. He looks from it to the remains of the Windrider and back again. "So that's what it looked like.." he murmurs quietly to himself. Shay'la lets out the breath she did not know she was even holding, "I was worried... I had you and Tiana as models, but the ship... It's not fully hand made, I shaped it some. I didn't have time to do it entirely by hand." That seems to be a disappointment to her, "The dagger was made by my father before he died... He could shape metal as well. It is called crysmetal... crystal and metal combined." Vardeus has to swallow hard, staring at the lovely objects that the Underworlder elf sets before him; as his fingertips touch the tiny sails captured forever in shaped marble, his eyes actually do start to gleam wetly, and he has to reach up to scrub the back of his big broad hand across them before he can finally look up at Shay'la, humbly, in awe. "I've... never seen anythin' sae finely done," he whispers. "And I've naught t' give ye, in return. Th... they're fit f'r a ((king)), these are...!" Shay'la smiles and shakes her head, "You have given me more then you know." She reaches out and places a hand on the Captain's shoulder, "I leave tonight... and you told me not to leave without saying goodbye. I shall miss you my friend... but with these you should know that I will never be too far away to help should you need me." Vardeus can only surge to his feet then, needing to show that honor to Shay'la if it's tonight that she'll be taking her leave of the camp. But he rises as lithely as being human can allow, careful not to jar the dainty hand that clasps his shoulder, even as he gruffly clasps it in reply. "When me people get t' somewhere safe, the Little Windrider--" And _ah_, that's how the ship's name is rendered in elfin! "--will have a place of honor f'r all t' see... an' I'll carry th' blade yer father made wi' pride." On his feet now, he asks huskily, "Is it proper, f'r me t' hug ye?" And Wayfound, watching all this in quiet respect, might be glimpsed to be smiling a little more easily now, a little more gently. And if her eyes might seem liquid... well, Wolfrider eyes do seem to have a way of tossing the moonlight back oddly, you know. Shay'la nods her head, "That would be nice... I am very glad you like it." She motions to the dagger, "Should you, or any of your people ever need me, from now to the end of my days, they only need to present that and I will be there." She then wraps her arms around Vardeus, "Hopefully we will meet again." Broad, strong human arms enfold Shay'la, and as Vardeus hugs her, Wayfound rises now to approach the tall Underworlder herself. "If you depart this night," she offers earnestly, "I too will bid you farewell; I have been most gratified to make your acquaintance, and I am honored by the viewing of your work." "I'll hope it," Vardeus murmurs gruffly. "Take care, Shay'la... and as the Rafters say, warm tides. I like that. It's a good sayin', f'r th' likes o' me." Shay'la turns and gives Wayfound a smile, once Vardeus lets her go, "Thank you... long ago an artist was all I ever wanted to be." So much has changed since the time of that young, idealistic elf. Even Shay's eyes glisten slightly with unshed tears, though the stoic underworlder in her won't let them fall. After she hugs Wayfound she turns back to Vardeus, "And calm waves to you my friend." She pauses a moment and looks out at the waves, "I should go.. before I loose my nerve.." Shay and water are not a good mix... she still has problems with it. Stoic reserve is Wayfound's habit as well -- and yet, she is a Wolfrider, and Wolfriders touch easily. Wayfound is not an exception, and she does not shirk from embracing the taller she-elf; as they part, she proffers a quirky, slightly shy little smile, and dips her head once in farewell. "Maybe Chatter'll help ye there," Vardeus offers. "Raven says she's comin' wi' us; Chatter'll be lonely, anyhow, without 'er." He draws in a breath, and finishes encouragingly, "Ye c'n make it. I've th' feelin' ye've summat waitin' f'r ye, to spur ye on." "You said you didn't understand the signs of the gods, Vardeus," Wayfound murmurs sidelong to him. "((Sailor)) instincts, lass, ((sailor)) instincts," is the Vraeyan's wryly muttered reply. Shay'la nods her head and pulls her hood back up, "I always do." Though normally when she would say this it would have a heavy tone to it... she always survives... but this time it doesn't have quite the weight... perhaps it is more hopefull. It is hard to tell, Shay can be tough to read. She takes a deep breath and then turns, first picking up her gloves to slide them back on, then grabbing the bag she had. She heads then for a raft, with a scout already aboard. Her stuff awaits her there. When she says leaving tonight... she means it. Human and Wolfrider and Go-Back watch her go; hands, five-fingered and four-fingered alike, rise in farewell. Only when the Raft scout and Shay'la are heading out into the waves does Vardeus cast another glance at the kingly gifts she has left behind... for him. His eyes are still a little wet, as he gazes reverently at his ship, created anew in the marble... And Wayfound, glancing up at the big sailor, smiles once more this night. Vardeus Alirreus might try to modestly call the gifts above him, fit for a king; as for Wayfound of the Wolfriders, her only knowledge of kings is of the troll variety, and scant besides. She knows very little of kings... but after several months with the Vraeyans, she can safely say she knows something of Captains. Enough to see that Shay'la has given her gifts very well indeed. [End log.]