Chapter 32

Darras, Tiruk and Klavin emerged from the gateway in the Elven town of Surrilion in the Elven land of Trillath. Though initially unwilling to permit Klavin entry, an intervention by a priest of Wenderos successfully gained him entry.

“Typical for the few Elven countries I visit,” Klavin admitted after thanking the priest. “They don’t like Dwarves, but it’s more to do with the antagonism I stir up amongst their people.”

“I guess so,” Tiruk nodded as they made their way to the harbour to take possession of a skiff.

Klavin remained discreetly out of sight as Tiruk negotiated with the seller, finally reaching an agreed price. In the meantime, Darras had purchased several items of foodstuffs from vendors in the local market before the trio boarded the skiff. Tiruk raised its small sail and guided the craft out of the bustling harbour.

“This isn’t natural,” a clearly nervous Klavin declared.

“What isn’t?” Darras asked.

“Dwarves on water.”

“Seriously?” Darras replied. “It’s not like you to stereotype yourself.”

“Well, admittedly, my people have crossed seas and oceans,” Klavin admitted. “But never this close to the water.”

“We’ll be all right,” Tiruk said to calm the Dwarf. “Sorella will ensure our safety.”

“She will,” a strange voice came from the sea itself.

“Blessings of Erren, Crannok and Pelegard be upon you,” Darras politely intoned as he spotted a Merman paralleling the craft.

“And that of Sorella upon you, landfolk,” the Merman replied.

“I’m Darras, agent of Erren; this is Tiruk, agent of Crannok on the tiller, and the nervous one is Klavin, agent of Pelegard.”

“They call me Girellus,” the Merman replied. “Now get ready. You’re out of sight of the land, and I can move you swiftly to the isle.”

As with the Elven farstriding, Darras was unsure how Girellus moved the skiff so swiftly across the ocean to come within sight of what appeared to be a fogbank. Even then, Girellus did not hesitate but guided the skiff into the fog and an eerie silence.

“Not sure what I was expecting,” Klavin admitted. “But it wasn’t this.”

“Only the people of the land see the fog, I’m told,” Girellus replied. “To me, it’s as clear as day.”

“You’ve been here before?” Darras asked.

“Yes, I occasionally serve Sorella here when an entreaty for salvation is granted.”

“Ah, then the noise I hear is tidal drift against rocks?” Tiruk asked.

“Whirlpools and shoals, coupled with mental confusion, make it the graveyard of the ocean,” Girellus admitted.

“No wonder Erren thought it a safe place to put the Dark Kin,” Darras nodded.

“Ah, is that who they are?” Girellus asked.

“Yes, they haven’t troubled you, have they?”

“No, but occasionally, individuals will come to the shore and gaze out into the ocean,” Girellus replied.

“No attempts to leave?” Darras asked.

“No, they don’t even fish from the land.”

“Guess there’s an abundance of game to hunt,” Darras replied.

‘There is fertile soil, too, ’ Erren added. ‘An isolated paradise.’

“Here’s hoping they don’t shoot us when we land.”

‘They won’t like what I’ll do to them if they do, but yes, it is a risk.’

The skiff left the fogbank as if a knife had cut away the fog, leaving them in clear water as they headed to what appeared to be a village at the mouth of a small river. It was also apparent that they’d been spotted, judging by the number of Dark Kin moving to the waterfront with semi-drawn bows. However, none fired any arrows, though it was clear they were not friendly, but fortunately not hostile, either.

“I’ll collect you should you survive to leave,” Girellus bade them farewell cheerfully.

“The blessings of our gods be with you, Girellus,” Klavin replied.

Dropping the sail, Darras and Klavin used the oars to row to the small dock, though Darras was mystified about why the village had a dock, as they had no boat and did not fish.

‘I sent them a vision, ’ Erren explained. ‘It’s also why hopefully they will hear you out.’

One of the Dark Kin grabbed a rope Tiruk threw and tied the skiff to a post before the trio hauled themselves up onto the dock under the watchful stares of the villagers.

“Greetings, I am Darras, agent of Erren,” Darras began.

“Silence, Human scum; we care not for you or your weak goddess,” one of the Dark Kin spat back.

“Silence yourself, Hillas,” a more mature Dark Kin rebuked the Elf. “My vision told us to expect strangers, so we built the dock. Nor are you in charge here.”

“This is Tiruk, agent of Crannok and Klavin, agent of Pelegard,” Darras continued after a gesture from the Dark Kin speaker.

“A Dwarf!” the speaker replied in surprise. “My name is Questa, a village elder.”

“Good to meet you, Questa; we are here to begin trade talks and aid with the outbreak of hross ennui,” Darras informed the Dark Kin.

“We do not need your help,” Hillas yelled, fully drawing his bow before another Dark Kin slapped his head in admonishment.

“Silence, youngling, your temper tantrums aid no one,” the one who had admonished the young Dark Kin stated. “I know of you, Darras; you brought word to our people of this sanctuary.”

“I did, to your elders via Klea,” Darras nodded.

“Word will be sent to them,” Questa added. “We shall swear a peace bond and permit you to remain.”

“Our thanks,” Darras replied, giving a slight bow.

“We should be binding them, not treating them as guests!” Hillas raged, though it was clear he was in a minority of one.

“Ignore him,” Questa stated. “He is young and believes in the old ways of hate.”

“That, in part, is why we are here,” Darras replied. “To mend some fences between the Dark Kin, Humanity and the Dwarven folk.”

“It may be too soon, but no doubt it will be welcome for some.”

A day later, a Dark Kin Darras recognised entered the village where he, Klavin and Tiruk conversed with Questa, the village elder.

“Greetings, Klea,” Darras said, rising to his feet.

“Greetings, Darras; this is a surprise,” Klea replied. “You did not bring the ... others, did you?”

“I doubt they’d have survived had I done so,” Darras chuckled. “There is one here who would kill us all if given the chance.”

“Hillas is a headstrong young fool, barely forty summers old,” Questa chuckled. “We have him in check. Greetings Klea, servant of the Elder Kin.”

“Greetings, Questa, revered Elder,” Klea replied.

“These are the agents of the gods who would speak to the Elder Kin,” Questa indicated Darras, Tiruk and Klavin.

“So, the day has finally come?” Klea replied, looking directly at Darras.

“It has,” Darras nodded. “The choice to become more open will be that of your people, though.”

“This, I know,” Klea replied. “I will take you to them.”

Because Klea could farstride, the party made rapid time to a tall tower set near the river’s source and roughly in the centre of the isle. There was a rustic settlement around the base of the tower, where the senior elders of the Dark Kin met. Though observed by many Dark Kin, Darras sensed no real hostility, though several appeared unhappy at their presence. Finally, Klea led the group into the largest of the dwellings, where Darras faced the same group of elders he’d met before when making Erren’s offer to the Dark Kin.

“Once again, you approach us, agent of the goddess Erren,” the chief elder stated once all had sat.

“I come to offer potions of chelba herbs to assist with an outbreak of the hross ennui your people are suffering with,” Darras replied after a polite nod.

“And why would you do this?”

“Why would I not?” Darras countered. “The herb does not grow on the island, and your people suffer.”

“You owe us nothing.”

“Indeed,” Darras nodded. “Yet, still here I am.”

“You have the potions?”

“No, you’ll need to open the gateway for delivery,” Darras replied. “They were being made as we journeyed here.”

“And your companions?”

“Klavin is here to talk with your craftsmen as to their abilities and needs for their forges,” Darras replied. “Tiruk is here to talk trade for any surpluses you have that can be exchanged for goods you do not have.”

“A Dwarf?”

“Best craftsmen around,” Darras chuckled. “He’s also the agent of Pelegard.”

“We will discuss your offer; please wait outside,” the elder finally said after a pause.

Klea led the trio outside, where there was a seating area, and joined them as they relaxed.

“How fare the Children of the Blade?” Darras asked.

“Adequately, though this disease debilitates many of our children,” Klea admitted. “Knowing we are safe adds greatly to our satisfaction.”

“That, Erren will guarantee,” Darras replied. “Though the truth of what Harranis tried is now known amongst many of your enemies.”

“I doubt it has made much of a difference.”

“Not amongst the common folk, no, but you have a modicum of understanding within the leadership of some Elven realms, though not all.”

“Then why come with offers of trade?”

“From small beginnings,” Darras replied. “Dwarfs and Humans do not view you as many Elven kin do.”

“Undoubtedly, their memories are short, and we rarely warred with them,” Klea nodded.

“Shortness is axiomatic with Dwarves,” Klavin chuckled, making Darras and Tiruk smile.

“You denigrate your own?” Klea frowned.

“I’m allowed,” Klavin laughed out loud. “If you cannot mock your own, who can you mock?”

“Humans will mock anyone,” Tiruk added with a smile.

“Interesting, I did not know this,” Klea admitted.

“Such is life amongst us,” Darras replied.

“A decision has been made; we are summoned,” Klea said in an abrupt change of subject before leading the trio back into the dwelling of the elders and bade them to sit.

“We accept your offers,” the senior elder began. “Though we are worried that if the knowledge of our gateway becomes widespread, we may face incursions from enemies.”