Stowaway

[anarii]

With the moot of trolls pursuing closely, all that could b heard was their blaring growls, and their growling tummies almost surpassing, Anarii fled deeper into the forest, with the chance of escape fleeing just as quickly. He lacked the bravery to die an honorable death, fighting an uncertain cause; all he could picture were the flashing images of blood, deluges of blood, never before mentioned in his childhood tales. He could never have imagined the macabre amount of it, pouring everywhere. So, he ran, never looking back. How far did he plan to go? Sure he could outrun the trolls for now, but he knew there was nothing like the endurance of a hungry troll. The screams and shrieks of his comrades, of his family, only quickened each step.

Wearily as he grew, his limbs grew stiff. His only choice now would be to cast what few enchantments he was given, and validate his death with the death of at least one more troll. But a merciful act, not unlikely attributed by the guiding hand of Rillifan, flew his way – literally. An airship of some sort, badly damaged, came straggling towards the northwest, not far from where he stood. Unusually, it was flying very low, but still out of reach him, or the tallest trees in the forest. His eyes caught glimpse of some glowing runes, reach far above the canopy of the forest. Upon clearer inspection, it appeared to be an obelisk of some sort. Maybe, just maybe, it might be tall enough. So he ran, with renewed strength, and clearly his fate was being watched over, for one purpose or another. Soon he was climbing, a most arduous accent, to the top of the obelisk. The fat bodied trolls watched helplessly as they tossed stones, and climbed atop one another in a makeshift ladder, which would have worked, had they been ten times larger. When the airship flew nearby, he grabbed onto a severed rope, which shifted and almost gave out when the weight of his little elven body hung from it. But it held, and he prayed that he had the strength to hang on, let alone the strength needed to climb on aboard the airship. And in the end, he had the strength to hang on, and the strength to climb aboard.

After he was aboard, he nourished his famished body with food scraps, flung about the frowzy kitchen. And so, he snuck past the crew, and wandered down below, which was an easy thing to do considering his past profession and the chaos of crewman trying to repair the ship. Soon, he noticed someone, much like his kind, a half-elven in fact, and the first elvish creature he had seen in days. So he sat behind a large stump of wood, and felt strangely at home sitting near the half-elf. But the half-elf, Nerryth by name, knew there was company on board, and by chance had happened to catch a glimpse of Anarii’s presence.

“So are you just going to sit there, or are you going to help me with this?” Nerryth asked.

Nerryth was constructing a support beam eye’s gazing steadily upon his work.

“How did you know I was here? You couldn’t know that!” replied Anarii, almost in an angry tone, for he was quite well known for his furtive ways.

Nerryth uttered on, “I know many things. I know that you escaped the trolls and their infamous elf stew. I know that you were able to escape by grabbing a loose rigging. I know that you are an elf, alone and scared. I even know that you weigh just shy of one hundred pounds.”

This was not an unusual skill possessed by Nerryth, for he had been a carpenter for some time. He was, at the moment, replacing a support beam that held a support cable, the very same one that Anarii had straddled for his dear life. By studying the wood, and the cracks that had formed, he was able to procure much of the information just mentioned. From the lengths of the cracks, he was able to decipher the length of time Anarii had held onto the rigging. From his estimation of the ship’s speed and heading, he was able to pinpoint the location of Anarii’s arrival back to Trollbark Forest. From the intensity of the crack, he figured Anarii’s weight, which was about the weight of an adolescent elf. As for the alone and scared part, he could tell just by the tone of Anarii’s voice, for Nerryth too had once been in a similar situation.

“Well, if you don’t want to help, I’m sure the captain would like to know of the little interloper aboard his ship.” Scoffed the Carpenter.

So you see, Anarii was rather inclined to help the half-elf, though he was glad to finally feel at home. And as for the half-elf, he enjoyed the company of another elf, and could surely use the help. While they worked, Anarii told his tale of his roots in the Rangers of the North. He told of their journey on behalf of the Elven Queen, to aid Waterdeep in its Troll problem as an act of good will between their peoples. He told of the surprise raid on their camp. And oh, did he EVER tell of the blood...

-Anarii