The History of Alliliel
Part XII
The blackness was spinning around her, as Alliliel fell through the void. Not yet conscious, the elf continued in her reverie. Faces, names, places and things from the past emerged from the murky blackness.
"Who will honor this house?" The voice cried out.
"Father?"
"No one to sing my name…"
"Mother?"
Reality seeped in from the edges. Steady, deep breaths filled her chest. Crossing the invisible line from the abyss to consciousness, the elf became aware of her surroundings slowly.
Groggy and uncertain, the elf didn’t move. Keeping her eyes closed, Alliliel listened.
She felt something heavy over her face and the air was warm and pungent with the smell of smoke mingled with many foreign aromas. Small sounds came from around her. A brush of something against metal, and then a small, short breath from an unknown creature filled the air.
Alliliel cautiously opened her eyes to more blackness. A heavy cloth was over her face. Reaching up slowly, she pulled back the course blanket.
She was in a small cage. The elf barely had enough room to sit cross-legged. Cages extended down the sides of the wall, each made of irregular iron bars and huge, simple locks on the cage doors. Small, unfamiliar animals either slept or scurried about in the adjoining cages.
Looking down, Alliliel saw that she was wearing a rough one-piece tunic. All of her items, including her armor and flail sat piled up neatly in the corner, far out of reach.
The long row of cages stood against the wall. Opposite sat a rough stone workbench with many odd tools and implements. Alliliel had never seen such strange tools, even in her father’s research laboratory. Strange liquids of different colors boiled in heated pots over the fires in the hearth. Alliliel hoped that she could reason with these reclusive Northmen. Certainly anyone could see that Alliliel was no threat, and she came in peace. She had traveled very far from home to meet them, and hoped her first contact with them would have gone better than this.
The Cleric considered what to say when her jailers returned. She expected a rough welcome based upon the stories from the outfitter in Highpass, but nothing quite like this. Some of the other customers had whispered that these Northmen were even cannibals! Alliliel did not believe it, but considering her present predicament, it was certainly possible. Alliliel gulped once as she considered how best to deal with this.
Her contemplations were cut short by the door being thrown open and a tall ferocious looking woman half stumbled through the door.
"Hello there! My name is Alliliel, and well, as you can see, I think we’ve gotten off to a terrible start here, and I did want to say that I am terribly sorry for sneaking about like that, I was afraid that I might run into some orcs and you can never be to careful about those things. I’ve come quite a ways to find Halas, and I hope it’s not far because I have a unique…" Alliliel stopped short.
The gigantic woman had not spoken and was staring at the elf with a rather glassy-eyed look. Alliliel paused mid-breath.
"Oh! Pardon me! I’ve so forgotten my manners!" Alliliel said as she remembered what the old trapper had told her back in the Karanas.
" Mavokkin Alliliel, ioch lund atsalo."
Alliliel smiled. The cleric knew her accent was horrible, but at least the Northwoman would know she came in peace.
Alliliel looked at the woman hopefully. She was swaying slightly and seemed a little ill.
"Are you alright, Miss? Hullo!"
The large woman didn’t even seem to notice Alliliel as she suddenly bent over and heaved.
"Heavens!"
The North-woman wiped her mouth on her hand and then passed out on a stack of furs by the fire.
Alliliel huffed and crossed her arms, bent over in the little cell.
"No manners! No manners at all!"
---
A stick jabbed at her face and Alliliel awoke with a start.
"Hullo! That is so very rude, you know!"
She looked up and a small group of the Northmen stood arrayed around her cell.
Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Alliliel started again.
" Mavokkin Alliliel, ioch lu…" but the sounds of laughter stopped her short.
"We speak the common speech here, invader," the tall one spoke. "There be no need to slaughter our language with that foreign tongue of yers."
Alliliel paused a moment. Her carefully laid plans were not working out as she had expected. Four of the Northmen stood outside the cell. Dressed in furs mostly with heavy iron weapons at their sides, they had the air of having fought much. The smallest and possibly youngest of them was rifling through her things in the corner.
The tall, old one followed Alliliel’s eyes to the young one.
" Dach! Findo aigh Jila lama!" The younger one dropped the backpack he was rifling through. He strode over to the still-passed out woman on the furs and kicked her squarely in the back.
"Och, one of these days Gudin, I’ll come to yer house and break yer jaw for that." The woman awoke and got to her feet slowly. She stretched out her back.
Alliliel watched the Northmen carefully, not certain what to do. She was hoping to make some allies, but so far nothing had gone according to plan. The young one had gone back to looking through Alliliel’s backpacks.
"Hullo! I’m sorry we seem to have gotten off to a poor start here. I am very sorry, myself and I know there was no room for a proper introduction, but I’ve come all the way from Freeport to find the Northmen that everyone talks about. I need your help and I have some services to offer in exchange. If someone would be so kind as to let me out of this cage, I would be pleased to…"
"She talks too much Luth. I want to cut her tongue out," the young one said. Alliliel’s eyes grew wide.
The oldest one turned around and stared at his young companion. The Northman looked at the ground, surprised at the glare from his elder.
The old one turned to face the elf.
"Some of these have not been far from home, lass. And they know not the ways of strangers. I know yer kind, and I know ye be peaceful. But my clan is cautious and knows that it is better to have missed an opportunity, than to move falsely and invite disaster." The old one paused a moment then gestured to one of his cohorts. The young warrior pulled out some iron keys and unlocked the gate of Alliliel’s cage.
The elf emerged and straightened up. In the stone room, she stood opposite the five Northmen and there was a silence.
Alliliel did not know what to say as they stared at each other with moments passing.
The old one considered a moment and then spoke.
"I am Luth, I am leader of my clan and father of three sons."
Alliliel nodded, and responded.
"I am Alliliel, Cleric of Tunare, and I come in peace to bring you Tunare’s blessings."
Luth narrowed his eyes at the elf for a moment, considering her.
"She’s all right boys. Give her her things, and we’ll see what this is about."
"Thank you for your kindness, sir," Alliliel said as she scooped her things up.
Luth continued. "We have some things to be doin’ now, but we will be returnin before nightfall. Jila will watch out for you. The plains of ice can be… dangerous for little ones like you."
The young one, Dach, approached the woman, Jila, and put his hands on her rather crudely.
"I’ll be seein’ you later lass. Be ready for me!"
The strike was rapid and powerful as Jila punched him squarely in the groin. Dach fell over with both hands between his legs, looking rather blue and he was emitting a rather low moan.
Luth looked on wistfully.
"To be young’n in love!"
Dach’s brothers laughed as they picked him up and carried him out led by Luth.
Alliliel shook her head as she put her armor back on.
---
Jila regarded the elf for a moment.
"Ye can go outside if ye be wantin’, but don’t wander far in town. They don’t like strangers here much."
Alliliel nodded and walked out the door into the streets of Halas.