Legends of Belariath

Reigor SureClaw

Ehlanna's Sojourn: A Princess Among Men - Part One

The City-state of Freegate was located south of the border of the Kingdom of Rylos and nestled next to the Gulf of Al’diran. A hundred years ago it had been the predominant trading port in the area, goods and riches flowed through its gates and harbors and its rulers made richer by lucrative tariffs and contracts. A century later however Freegate was on the decline. After a devastating war with the Al’diran pirates which raised shipping costs and increasing humanoid incursions along the bordering kingdoms that dampened overland travel, Freegate found its trade going elsewhere. New city-states like Nanthalion, some 200 miles to the Southwest provided safer routes for the merchants from distant kingdoms who sought to buy and sell merchandise.

This decline had not gone unnoticed by the D’Armad family, the nominal rulers of Freegate, who were descended from the merchant clan who had established a small trading house on city’s original site. Over the years they instituted in one failed policy after another to try and tempt the merchants and their merhial coins back into the city. These policies consisted mostly of lower sales taxes and tariffs combined with a stronger military. However, these policies only served as a steady drain on the already beleaguered treasury and did little to solve the multitude of problems that plagued the once great city.

Recently, Prince Orlan D’Armad, the current ruler of Freegate, had instituted a radical new plan in hopes of bringing in fresh money and blood, so to speak, into the metropolis. He opened the gates to all races, even ones as feared and despised as the Goblins and Wolven and set in place a system of protected caravans to allow those races safe travel through the normally hostile border kingdoms. The results, at least at first, were all that Orlan could hope for. Trade did increase and the treasury started growing again. However, there was ominous brew forming a as rival races of Goblins, Wolven, Orcs, Trolls, Fae, Torian, and others flooded into the city…

…including one, lone cloaked elf woman.

She was slender and stood a few inches over five feet; that much could be told by looking at her. If one were to look closer, they would be able to see wisps of fine strands of silver hair peeking out from under the elf woman’s hood. Delicate features were hidden in the shadows of the cloak, even her eyes were concealed, which might have been best. Those that looked upon them felt haunted from the sea of pure agony and grief that swirled in their pale blue depths, leaving the viewer a bit shaken by the experience. She was mounted on a pale, almost luminous, white/gray horse, some 14 or so hands high that a knowledgeable observer would have recognized as an Elven mare, known for their endurance, speed, and uncanny intelligence.

The Elf woman’s name was Ehlanna and it had been over a month since she was forced to leave her beloved home of Desreniel Falaris, her home village that lay deep within the Forest of Light and over five years since the death of her first love Tolwyn. It is said that during times of tragedy one goes through many emotional states: denial, desperation, anger, depression, and then finally acceptance. For Ehlanna, Tolwyn’s death was still a dark stain upon her soul, her grief seemingly unquenchable, and because that growing darkness could be the breeding ground of evil, her Elven brethren had exiled her. They did so with love, sadness, and hope that their sister elf would find a way in the outer world to accept her loss, but cast her out they did.

That action was a blow in itself. How could they not trust her? She would never succumb to evil! She just needed some more time. Even her own mother and father had turned against her! But it was obvious now that despite their kind words that no longer had faith in her, Ehlanna’s denials and quiet pleas gone unheeded. Now she found herself alone in the outer world with no one but her bitter grief and slowly simmering anger for company.

This wasn’t entirely true, the Elven mare Cloudwing had chosen to accompany Ehlanna on her sojourn and the elf woman was grateful for her new friend’s presence. The horse that had once been with her cousin Aalia had been her one anchor during the first week of her departure, when the shock of her exile had been at its worst. Without Cloudwing, Ehlanna might have died of starvation and exposure, a pitiful end for one whose blood gave the potential for centuries of life.

But Ehlanna didn’t die, even though she had settled into deep depression, cherishing her memories of Tolwyn like precious jewels as she made her way through the Kingdom of Rylos which bordered the Sylvan wood. As she traveled, Ehlanna was finding it harder and harder to muster up the will needed to provision herself from the land’s bounty. Instead she found herself relying more on the steadily dwindling coin pouch which her father had given before she was cast out. A drain made greater by the silver-haired elf’s growing fondness to a strong drink the human’s called Dragon’s Tears, which she discovered seemed to numb the pain in her heart.

And now Ehlanna found herself out of Rylos and passing through the northern entrance of Freegate, still deeply hurt, directionless, almost out of coin, and starting to get very angry that she hadn’t been properly prepared for her exile. She might…might…accept that her kin were justified in their actions, but at least they could have given her the resources to take care of herself! Darkness take it! What was she supposed to do when her purse was finally empty?

Go out into the wild and live, Gaea will provide, her inner voice said. Ehlanna ignored it with derision. Certainly she could hunt and gather food to support herself, even use her skills to perhaps provide some sort of income, but life had taken enough away from her wasn’t it time it gave some back? But of course it wouldn’t…

It was then the Elven woman felt Cloudwing move under her, plodding steadily away down the center of street as the gate guards and travelers behind Ehlanna started to question why she had stopped moving. Shaking herself out of her sulk for a moment, the elf maid looked around what perhaps was the greatest of human cities that existed in the Realms of Belariath in these times. She found it, to her surprise, to be both revolting and fascinating at the same time, a fantastic riot of colors, sounds, and smells that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

There were vendors that squawked loudly, showing their wares to any that might buy. Troops of grim faced mercenaries stomped by, the new among them gawking around much like Ehlanna was. Even more amazing, and frightening, was the amount of mixture between the normally warring races of light and dark, Fae and Greenskin, trading, laughing, arguing, and trying to stay out of each others way but failing.

But no elves, at least none that Ehlanna could see. Which meant she was alone as usual; another poignant point of her status as an exile and of Tolwyn’s death. The surge of anger and grief these memories brought momentarily staggered Ehlanna, bring fresh tears to her pale blue eyes. Shaking her head and wiping her face, Ehanna decided that if she was going to be miserable she was going to it drunk. Her purse had just enough coin for one more bottle of Dragon’s Tears, after that it didn’t matter; let the fates decide her course.

Looking around, Ehlanna saw what looked to be a promising establishment, the rough looks of its exterior and the rowdy laughs from inside indicating the selling of inexpensive entertainments. Though it likely attracted the “wrong” crowd, much like herself, the elf woman wryly thought, she would be able to afford the prices it asked for. The Laughing Gryphon Tavern, the sign outside proclaimed, the wood stained and cracked, but the letters were still legible under the carving of a smiling gryphon holding a tankard of overflowing ale.

More like “Ehlanna’s Last Stop”, the bitter elf though wryly tugging on her steed’s mane as Cloudwing, Ehlanna’s self appointed guardian, futilely tried to turn them away, knowing what elf woman was intending. But Ehlanna was insistent; actually digging her heals into the mare’s flank to get Cloudwind to move where she wanted. Looking back, Ehlanna would have been appalled at her behavior towards a friend who had been such a stalwart company, but now she wasn’t concerned. Not about anyone or anything, just the drink that would make it all hurt less.

Seeing that there was no point in arguing, Cloudwing let herself be led to the hitching post outside of the tavern, only whinnying briefly in worried concern when Ehlanna slid off and went inside. But the elf woman ignored her and the mare could only watch her friend enter the human hostel to poison herself once more, she still had hopes that Ehlanna would find a new purpose, a new reason to thrive and grow, but for now it looked bleak.

Leaving the brooding mare behind her, Ehlanna entered the Laughing Gryphon, pausing only briefly at its entrance before heading towards the bar. With her lithe body concealed in a drab gray cloak she had picked up in one of the outlying villages, Ehlanna hoped her slim figure would be mistaken as that of a young boy’s. She did not want the curious stares or lust filled expressions that she had constantly endured while traveling through Rylos. While at first she them found amusing, over time she had gotten weary of it and wanted to be just left alone.

It was then that she saw the group of four Orcs positioned at the far side of the bar, drinking and talking among themselves, dressed in black armor and sporting weapons. Mercenary scum, Ehlanna thought as her instinctual hatred for the Greenskin race rose up within her. She almost turned around then and there, but then her eye caught the familiar crystal shape of a decanter of Dragon’s Tears, nestled in among the other bottles and flasks of fine liquors displayed prominently but secured protectively in a wire cage behind the bar.

That was enough for Ehlanna to resume her walk into the tavern and though she noticed the Orcs look and stare at her suspiciously she paid them no mind. As she sat on one of the empty stools in front of the stained wood counter, the cloaked elf waved her hand to get the bartender’s attention. The man, a large fat human wearing an even worse stained apron, nodded in her direction and walked over. He paused, no doubt surprised by the wisps of silver hair that poked out from Ehlanna’s hood, but then continued until he was standing in front of her.

“What can I get for you traveler?” he said, trying not to obviously bend down so that he could look into her hood. Up close she could see that he had three days worth of scraggly beard on him and his black hair slicked back with some substance that smelled like lard. Ehlanna though ignored his curiosity and odious personal habits and pointed towards the crystal decanter behind the mesh, making her attentions clear. “Dragon’s Tears eh? That’s mighty costly for a glass.”

“I want the bottle,” Ehlanna declared as she pulled out the last of her mehrial coins and placed them on the bar counter, a part of her darkly amused by the way the human’s eyes lit up with greed. Typical, she thought as she watched him scoop up the coins and then turn to unlock the cage to pull out the bottle and set it front of his latest customer. Still was she much better? It took all of her will not to grab the bottle and start chugging it right then and there instead of waiting for the bartender to find a clean glass for her to use.

Thus armed, Ehlanna proceeded to try to achieve a drunken stupor, to drive away the grief that haunted her and the growing shame of being reduced to this state. To this end she nearly succeeded, the sounds of the boisterous patrons around her steadily growing dimmer, her tearing emotions fading into a dull ache. Then, without warning and the bottle half empty, Ehlanna felt the hood of her cloak jerked back revealing her cascade of silver hair and fine Elven features to those around her.

“What? Who dares!?” The drunk and now angry elf said as she whipped her head around towards whomever would dare touch her without her permission. To her surprise she found herself surrounded by the four Orcs, staring at her with shocked and angry expressions. Apparently, they were surprised by their discovery and they and the rest of the tavern had not expected to find a female elf sitting at the bar.

Dimly now she remembered someone making crude overtures towards her earlier which she had ignored, Ehlanna realized now that it had to have been one or more of the Orc mercenaries. Mostly likely they were put out by her lack of response and roused by strong drink, judging by the smell on their clothes, decided to get her attention directly. Unfortunately, this meant that Ehlanna’s heritage, which she hoped to keep hidden just so she could avoid such trouble, was now public.

“By Orgog’s Blood! A she-elf!” cursed one of the Orcs, apparently their leader judging by his size and quality of his equipment. Growling he stepped back, his hand reaching down for his sword but not drawing it, at least not yet. “Light take it! If I had known that scum like you came to this place I would have gone somewhere else!”

“Yeah, an Elven bitch like this one killed my cousins!” Another Orc said, fingering the haft of his axe. His other two mates made similar comments, hurling accusations and insults upon Ehlanna and her race, clearly spoiling for a fight but not initiating it. Ehlanna though, instead of just getting up and walking out like she should do or even better match her normally razor sharp wit against them, instead did the one thing her teachers had taught her not ever to do.

Ehlanna got angry, the rage and sense of betrayal over her exile bubbling over into a white hot fire. Screaming curses in elvish, the silver haired ranger and mage stood up and flung out a hand towards the Orc leader, summoning her power and blasting him across the room with an energy bolt to the chest. The other Orcs, shocked by her sudden and violent behavior, rocked back desperately as they tried to draw their weapons to defend themselves before Ehlanna turned her attention on them.

Too late, the battle hardened Elven fighter drew her curved blade and in one fluid motion disemboweled one of the Orcs and then decapitated another on her sword’s backswing. The world then dissolved into a chaotic melee of flashing steel, spurting blood, flying bodies, and roars of fire and lightning as the rest of the tavern patrons rose up in mass to try and stop her. Ehlanna laughed, lost in the savagery and bloodlust of the moment, and met them with steel and magic, decimating any that opposed her.

It was then that she realized how her evil cousins, the Dark Elves, felt in battle riding their anger and hatred and channeling it into their war art. Too late Ehlanna realized that this was just what her kin had feared would happen, that the seeds of darkness that had been planted by Tolwyn’s death had taken root and blossomed into evil blooms. She had become what her kind had hated for millennia, one that embraced and reveled in death.

Crying out in sudden self loathing and shame, Ehlanna dropped her gore splattered sword and fell to her knees, holding herself as her rocked with heart wrenching sobs, hoping that someone would end her life right there. But the sword strike or spell didn’t come; the ranger and mage had been taught too well. As the sobbing Ehlanna looked up, the crying elf maid could see the ruins of the tavern about her, burned and drenched with blood and body parts.

When the city watch arrived, summoned by the desperate bartender who barely got out in time, they had expected to find a silver-haired banshee who could kill them with a glance and then suck out their blood. What they found instead was bad enough; Ehlanna’s work had been thorough, but the cause of destruction offered no resistance as they arrested her, locking down the elf’s limbs with spell bound chains. Then, shaking their heads in disbelief, they dumped her into the back of a covered wagon, locking the door securely.

It seemed like fate has decided things for me, just like I wanted, Ehlanna thought bitterly as wagon lurched and then got underway. So much death and destruction would surely spell her own end; she had no money to pay the blood guilt debt, so her life was forfeit. Desperately a part of Ehlanna cried out, trying to get her to think, to find away out of this mess, but all she could do was attempt to seek out her friend Cloudwing, hoping for some comfort from the Elven mare’s presence.

However, to Ehlanna’s dismay, Cloudwing was no where to be seen, the mare having apparently fled the area. Had her heart turned so black that the mare rejected her? It seemed the only explanation, a final testimony to the depths of evil which she sunk too. Dejected, her anger turning into despair, mixing in with the already bitter depression that she was in from her lover’s death, Ehlanna felt she was falling into a deep blackness. Right then she willed herself to die, to end it now before she did something more horrible, but a part of her still refused. So she settled down on the dirty straw of the cart and waited, completely beyond caring and hoping it would all end soon.

Authors Notes: This piece is the start of a series of stories that depicts Ehlanna’s early years before she arrived in the lands around The Lonely Inn. It also my thank you for the wonderful editing and proofreading she has done for my works.

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