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I have this very weirdly talkative D&D character in my head at the moment ....
So I'm going to let her babble.
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miz_evolution may be amused by the second-to-last paragraph. At least I hope so.)
I am Arissandra Windshadow the Vague; my clan is far distant from here, and their name would be meaningless here in human lands. I am an initiate of the wind and rain and a child of the open sky. I am very, very confused.
I travelled to Darkmoon Vale under the guidance of a dream; I need a staff. It will take many seasons to prepare, to find a willing tree and a willing vine who will mesh as I need to fulfil this, seasons of tending and care, but life is long, I am yet quite young, and I am in no particular hurry.
I was entirely willing to deal with the humans who have set themselves up to exploit this place. They are touchy about others dealing in their trees, for some reason, but it is a courtesy to treat with other species as they prefer. And yet, for some reason, they were reluctant to accept an offer to allow me to care for a tree for a mere twenty or thirty years and leave it unmolested for that time. I was willing to pay them in goods or services as they desired, as I believe is the appropriate custom. As is also appropriate, I asked my companion Iska to part company with me when I was in their close territory, as humans fear wolves for some reason, and I do not wish him to come to any harm. (I have since learned that when he accompanies me closely, they do not recognise him as a wolf; I am not certain what brings about this power of illusion, as it is no magic that I know.)
In my brief time in this human town, two were a great relief to me; the herbalist, who is wise in the ways of plants and medicine, and a wizard who lived nearby, a fellow elf who had been there for some time and could provide me some conversation from a reasonable perspective. I had learned somewhat where the druid grove gathered in the wood, and was preparing to attempt to meet them and secure their advice on my staff when the disease broke out and caused a certain level of agitation.
I have decided to make a study of humans, as my training in the functioning of ecosystems was clearly not adequate to dealing with this species. The two who became my companions have been a good place to start. They seem to have an entirely appropriate dislike for the undead, an excessive fondness for wrapping themselves in metal, and a certain recklessness that seems to require an unfortunate quantity of the use of the sacred powers of healing in order to maintain their obsession with proper speed of action. It is not that a capacity for violence is outside the scope of the natural; no true observer of the world of beasts could possibly make such an argument. It is more that the forcing of health is a drain on the spirit, something to be touched in emergencies rather than used as a means to continue to argue against time.
I had heard that they were a comparatively short-lived species, but I had not understood how intensely it governs their responses and their governments. After observing the recklessness of some of their young - though to be fair the one most markedly reckless had elven blood - I am amazed at how many of them survive to breeding age.
Other observations about humans: their recklessness does not limit itself to simple war against time. One of my human companions was curious about an item we retrieved from the body of a long-dead suicidal dwarf, and tried it on; it promptly turned his arm into stone and could not be removed. At that point, the assistance of my elven friend was sought to determine what the object was. (Though the possession was not entirely detrimental, as it greatly increased his capacity as a warrior, and he was not weak in that regard beforehand.) They can be touchy and easily offended; when I commented that a kobold who had claimed never to harm 'pinkskins' was wearing human fingerbones, the same human reacted with a certain amount of violent response. That protectiveness of others in their species that appears to have driven that reaction and sent us into the forest in search of a cure for the disease does not, however, appear to extend to include weaponry enchanted to do particular harm to other members of the species. They are not always entirely as aware of their gods as one might anticipate; as my friend commented to me recently, "Only a human would be a paladin and not know it." Certain of them are very chauvanistic about the superiority of their species; one was quite offended by the prospect of treating with kobolds, arguing that they were lizards. (Some of my best friends have been lizards. They are wise in the Mysteries of sun and shadow.)
I will say, however, that their exuberance is extremely appealing. Their willingness to drink (despite their apparent frailty where alcohol is concerned) in the cause of celebration implies a certain freedom of spirit that their perspective on time otherwise denies them. Their exuberance of living does have an appeal, I think especially to one as young as I, one who has not perhaps put childish things as far aside as some might have done; the austerity of adulthood has its appeal, but, again, I am yet young. I will also say that their forwardness and urgency has driven me to learn and adapt far more swiftly than I would have done had I proceeded in my education and search for wisdom at my own pace; I recognise that I have apprehended certain Mysteries far younger than many as a result of my brief association with them.
They appear to have interesting theories about ecology. The aforementioned paladin has expressed concern for certain female humans in the town, who are employed as temporary mates for certain of the lumberjacks. Apparently their living conditions are very poor by human standards, and this matter can perhaps be corrected by culling their employers until one is in place who will treat them well. This group of humans (the employers) is something very like rabid, though I am unclear if whatever is wrong with them is entirely infectious or if it is a disease of the mind. (This may have been similar to the logic this human applied to the kobold settlement, that if the mind-rabid ones were removed, the others would be better neighbors.)
I believe we are planning on travelling to address the problems provoked by a certain item that we took from a rather unpleasant undead creature in the near future. If there is not time for me to reach the druid grove to enquire about the staff and what trees might be amenable to my request to deal with them and safe from the depredations of the lumberjacks before we go, I shall do it upon our return; a year or two more or less will not make a difference.
So I'm going to let her babble.
(
miz_evolution may be amused by the second-to-last paragraph. At least I hope so.)I am Arissandra Windshadow the Vague; my clan is far distant from here, and their name would be meaningless here in human lands. I am an initiate of the wind and rain and a child of the open sky. I am very, very confused.
I travelled to Darkmoon Vale under the guidance of a dream; I need a staff. It will take many seasons to prepare, to find a willing tree and a willing vine who will mesh as I need to fulfil this, seasons of tending and care, but life is long, I am yet quite young, and I am in no particular hurry.
I was entirely willing to deal with the humans who have set themselves up to exploit this place. They are touchy about others dealing in their trees, for some reason, but it is a courtesy to treat with other species as they prefer. And yet, for some reason, they were reluctant to accept an offer to allow me to care for a tree for a mere twenty or thirty years and leave it unmolested for that time. I was willing to pay them in goods or services as they desired, as I believe is the appropriate custom. As is also appropriate, I asked my companion Iska to part company with me when I was in their close territory, as humans fear wolves for some reason, and I do not wish him to come to any harm. (I have since learned that when he accompanies me closely, they do not recognise him as a wolf; I am not certain what brings about this power of illusion, as it is no magic that I know.)
In my brief time in this human town, two were a great relief to me; the herbalist, who is wise in the ways of plants and medicine, and a wizard who lived nearby, a fellow elf who had been there for some time and could provide me some conversation from a reasonable perspective. I had learned somewhat where the druid grove gathered in the wood, and was preparing to attempt to meet them and secure their advice on my staff when the disease broke out and caused a certain level of agitation.
I have decided to make a study of humans, as my training in the functioning of ecosystems was clearly not adequate to dealing with this species. The two who became my companions have been a good place to start. They seem to have an entirely appropriate dislike for the undead, an excessive fondness for wrapping themselves in metal, and a certain recklessness that seems to require an unfortunate quantity of the use of the sacred powers of healing in order to maintain their obsession with proper speed of action. It is not that a capacity for violence is outside the scope of the natural; no true observer of the world of beasts could possibly make such an argument. It is more that the forcing of health is a drain on the spirit, something to be touched in emergencies rather than used as a means to continue to argue against time.
I had heard that they were a comparatively short-lived species, but I had not understood how intensely it governs their responses and their governments. After observing the recklessness of some of their young - though to be fair the one most markedly reckless had elven blood - I am amazed at how many of them survive to breeding age.
Other observations about humans: their recklessness does not limit itself to simple war against time. One of my human companions was curious about an item we retrieved from the body of a long-dead suicidal dwarf, and tried it on; it promptly turned his arm into stone and could not be removed. At that point, the assistance of my elven friend was sought to determine what the object was. (Though the possession was not entirely detrimental, as it greatly increased his capacity as a warrior, and he was not weak in that regard beforehand.) They can be touchy and easily offended; when I commented that a kobold who had claimed never to harm 'pinkskins' was wearing human fingerbones, the same human reacted with a certain amount of violent response. That protectiveness of others in their species that appears to have driven that reaction and sent us into the forest in search of a cure for the disease does not, however, appear to extend to include weaponry enchanted to do particular harm to other members of the species. They are not always entirely as aware of their gods as one might anticipate; as my friend commented to me recently, "Only a human would be a paladin and not know it." Certain of them are very chauvanistic about the superiority of their species; one was quite offended by the prospect of treating with kobolds, arguing that they were lizards. (Some of my best friends have been lizards. They are wise in the Mysteries of sun and shadow.)
I will say, however, that their exuberance is extremely appealing. Their willingness to drink (despite their apparent frailty where alcohol is concerned) in the cause of celebration implies a certain freedom of spirit that their perspective on time otherwise denies them. Their exuberance of living does have an appeal, I think especially to one as young as I, one who has not perhaps put childish things as far aside as some might have done; the austerity of adulthood has its appeal, but, again, I am yet young. I will also say that their forwardness and urgency has driven me to learn and adapt far more swiftly than I would have done had I proceeded in my education and search for wisdom at my own pace; I recognise that I have apprehended certain Mysteries far younger than many as a result of my brief association with them.
They appear to have interesting theories about ecology. The aforementioned paladin has expressed concern for certain female humans in the town, who are employed as temporary mates for certain of the lumberjacks. Apparently their living conditions are very poor by human standards, and this matter can perhaps be corrected by culling their employers until one is in place who will treat them well. This group of humans (the employers) is something very like rabid, though I am unclear if whatever is wrong with them is entirely infectious or if it is a disease of the mind. (This may have been similar to the logic this human applied to the kobold settlement, that if the mind-rabid ones were removed, the others would be better neighbors.)
I believe we are planning on travelling to address the problems provoked by a certain item that we took from a rather unpleasant undead creature in the near future. If there is not time for me to reach the druid grove to enquire about the staff and what trees might be amenable to my request to deal with them and safe from the depredations of the lumberjacks before we go, I shall do it upon our return; a year or two more or less will not make a difference.
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Someday, I will have to do a short comical shot about what would happen if your Ari and my Ari ran into eachother at a bar or something.
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And as Kelwyn might respond, "and only an elf would not enlighten him."
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