A Tombkeeper's Diary | "Solace"

[Reece Nolan 636]

A Tombkeeper's Diary

~ o . O . o ~

"Solace"

[Ambience]

 

       "'Ere, eat yer fill befur et goes cold." Angr sighs, letting a ladle come to rest in the cookpot. Across from him sat a young female wood elf woefully underdressed for the encroaching snowstorm, save for the few layers of woolly dwarven blankets. Their camp rested in a shallow cave in the side of the mountains, far from any sense of society and even further away from elven company. The howling winds whipped around every corner this far up, only interrupted by the constant crackle of their campfire and the occasional metal clank as Angr maintains necessities. With his bone bowl carved from a serpents vertebra, the Ireheart would slurp a spoonful of meaty stew into his mouth. "Now's nae tah toime te' play quiet, ye need tae keep yer frail bodeh warm er ye gonnah freeze tae death en ah few hours." Angr commented, smacking his lips. Yet the wood elf remained stubborn, her eyes moving about as she watched him spoon his food into his gullet. "Ahm nae gonnah spoonfeed ye, knoife ears." He grumbles, picking up the ladle again and serving her stew in a curved rock. "Why are you even helping me?" She blurts out as the meal is thrust into her lap. "The Irehearts hate us."

 

       "Yer righ, ah don' like ye, now eat ya spoiled brat." He says taking a slurp out of the rim of his bowl. "I am not-" She pauses, then looking down in her lap and pouting as she realizes he's right. He had done everything, even giving her his blankets and sharing his food. Silence ensued for a moment as the two ate, Angr's yellow and chipped teeth munching at globs of fat rich meat and large bits of onion while the elf prodded at her serving and occasionally brought some to her dainty lips. "What even is this anyways?" She asks, lifting a jiggly piece of pork. "Pegs feet." He replies, setting his bowl down and letting a small burp escape. The elf, understandably grossed out by the prospect of eating boiled pigs feet, reluctantly slips some into her mouth as she grew ever so squeamish.

 

       "Ye nevah ded tel' meh yur name yet." Angr commented. After a short deliberation, she came to the understanding that if this dwarf wanted to harm her, he would have by now. She was confused, so many people had warned her that encountering an Ireheart was practically a death sentence. "Zellyr." She answered, face growing flushed. Angr took the emptied cooking pot off of the fire and stood up, carrying a small iron kettle to the edge of the cave. "Now w'y woul ah lettl lasseh loike yu..." He begins, pausing with a grunt as he squats to scoop some snow into the kettle. "Beh wanderen tae remote parts ov ta dwedmar moun'ains?" He asked. Zellyr paused for a while, watching as he set the kettle over the fire to heat up before he goes back over to grab more snow. "I ran away." She responded with an almost defeated tone. "Ran awey? Yu don' luk loike a child." He inquires, depositing more snow into the kettle as the previous layer melts down. "N-no, I'm not a child. I..." She hesitated, looking down in shame. "I left Elvenesse because our allies were choking us, the high costs of peace took a huge toll on the morale of a lot of people." She admitted. "Instead of placing faith in our leaders, I abandoned them."

 

       "An' yu feel ashamed fur et?" He asks, pausing to pack in more snow. "Ye dedn' loike yer liven situat'on, so ye left. Semple." "It isn't that simple, these are my people, they're all that I have, I can't jus..." She stopped herself, realizing what she was about to say. "So ye tried tae climb ta moun'ains cous ye knew tae dwed woul' attack ye ef yu took tae road..." He says, putting the lid on the kettle. "Ahn tae umris are tu buseh foighten t'emself." Zellyr smiled weakly at that and scoffed, "Yeah, exactly. I suppose the only good thing to happen thus far was learning that the Irehearts aren't bad." She says burrowing further into the blankets. "Nae, don' trust tae Ire'earts. Yu got luckeh cus ah 'av ah brain en betwen meh shouldahs, but my brot'ers ahn sesters are focken feral." He sighs, rummaging through his bag and pulling out two small metal cups. "So what they say is true? You take our ears and murder us?" She asks frightened, looking up and backing away a little. "Aye, bu t'eres no poin fer meh tu take yur ears righ now or kill ye." This put Zellyr on edge, it was now starting to set in that she was stuck in a cave with a ruthless murderer, a dwarf spurred on by his greedy trials. "Ah kno wut yer fink'n, t'at ahm som evil medgit t'ats gonna rape yu en yur sleep and cut yu up." He says, pouring some hot water into a cup for her. "What ah meant w'en ah said t'eres no poin', es t'at t'eres nothen tae beh learned from assulten ah wee lasseh. Ah coul take yur ears an go 'ome, tell meh famileh t'at ah did t'em proud ahn murdered som nasteh knoife eared vermin, an go to sleep, but w'en tey ask meh 'ow ah got tae ear, et's far less exciten. Yu gottu earn yer trials, ah believe. Yu cannae rush et."

 

       Their conversation was interrupted by a loud boom of thunder roaring up the mountain, the heavy snowfall just now starting to come down. After sipping on his water, the Ireheart would look at Zellyr and say, "Et's tae same fer yu. Yu feel loike ye wan tae be rid of yur worries, but ef some'un asks you how yu solved et, et woul sound ah lot bettah saying yu stood by yur people rat'er t'an admitten yu ran away. But donnae confuse yer desire fer peace wif weakness." He was right, and he had nailed exactly what was on her mind too. She sipped on her water and watched as he pulled out some light mats, setting them down on the floor. "Here." She said, offering him one of the blankets. "Nae, keep 'em, ahm foine." He says, laying down as the evening light began to fade leaving them in only the campfire's light. Zellyr laid down as well, wrapped in a bundle of warm green and gray knit wool with a few beard hairs in it. It smelled like it belonged to a family, it smelled like it was fresh from its home, it felt as though she was one of the Irehearts that was being swaddled in that warm connection that kin share, comforting her when her resolve was cracked. As her mind wandered, her eyes grew heavier and heavier until she had drifted off to sleep.

 

       Zellyr abruptly woke some time later in the middle of the night to find Angr standing next to her, his back turned. "A-Angr?" She trembled, fearing the worst. The Ireheart let out a low guttural growl that sent shivers down her spine, her muscles frozen in fear when she saw the glint of moonlight reflecting off of his war axe. Her gaze narrowed in on the scene when she saw two dire wolves at the mouth of the cave growling back at Angr. She began to quiver as she was unsure of what to do, but was even more so petrified of what unfolded before her. Angr stomped one foot foreward as he beat a fist to his chest with a strong thud, followed by an almost inhuman snarl causing the wolves to whimper and back up a few steps. When they realized just who was the predator here, the wolves trudged back into the snowstorm to seek shelter elsewhere. Still frozen in fear, she watched him toss a few logs into the campfire, then lay down on his mat and promptly drift back to sleep. It was odd, being in the presence of a force of pure strength, even at its most restrained version no less. She could only imagine what the strongest Ireheart warriors were like. In these harsh conditions during these hard times, she found solace with the Tombkeeper.