Sywyn Gaellys

[Pookey]

"Elf! You are dead! I'm going to cut you into pieces and use you for goblin bait!"

A silver haired elf casually looked over from his seat at the red-faced human yelling at him. His eyes looking over the human lazily, half lidded. The elf's two companions looked at each other knowingly, quickly standing up and backing away.

"Calm yourself, Kelan. I'm sure this is all some misunderstanding." The contempt in his voice was undisguised.

"Elise is my wife, damn you!" The human advanced slowly on the elf, head hunched down and arms flailing as he approached.

"Was she? Strange that she never mentioned you." the elf turned in his chair to face the human, leaning back and looking relaxed. "Perhaps you should vent your rage upon her."

The tavern grew silent as more people noticed the red-faced and shaking human yelling in elven at the seated elf. Sywyn's friends stood a few feet behind him, watching the human with fascination and a little contempt.

"You won't mock me and you won't make a fool of me! I'll not have the horns put on my head by the likes of you!"

Finally close enough, the human grabbed for the elf. His hand closed on the elf's arm, but he let go as sharp pain lanced up his arm. The elf pulled his dagger out of the human's forearm, grabbing his wrist and yanking it down to the floor. A small pinprick of pain in his throat took the human's attention from his forearm and he was suddenly still. The elf held his bleeding arm while holding the dagger to his exposed throat, pricking him ever so slightly.

"You may not lay hands upon me. I will not suffer it." said the elf in a voice cold as the icecaps.

The human looked into the elf's cold blue eyes with impotent rage, blood dripping slowly from his forearm onto the floor. The elf looked back thoughtfully.

"I am a trusting soul, and if you say you will kill me, why should I not believe you and drive this dagger into your throat right now?"

"Sywyn." One of the elf's companions touched his shoulder briefly. "The human's friends approach."

The elf half turned his head to his companion and nodded, then looked quietly back to the human.

"If I find you upon my trail, I will kill you."

The elf slowly released the human's arm and stood up, sheathing his dagger. Turning, his black cape swirling and hand casually on the hilt of his rapier, he moved quickly for the exit. His companions looked at each other, shrugged almost imperceptably, and sat back down as the human's friends arrived, asking questions loudly and exclaiming at his bloody forearm as they surrounded him and moved to the bar for some bandages.

Three days later, a patrol in the High Forest found the body of the human known as Kelan. It appeared that he had been killed by a roving band of goblins, since some of his personal effects were found on them when they were in turned hunted and killed. However, a black fletched arrow in the pattern used by Sywyn Gaellys was also found near Kelan's body, broken in half and covered in blood.

The following week a border patrol reported that he was passed out of the High Forest, heading south. The patrol captain reported that Sywyn spent the evening at their campfire chatting and drinking with them and that nothing in his demeanor was amiss. He gave his destination as Cormyr.

[Pookey]

The silver haired elf and a brawny Damaran human in chainmail stood at the mouth of the cave, breathing heavily and looking around at the bodies of the kobolds surrounding them. A few of the kobolds stirred, but at the slightest movement, the elf plunged a dagger into them, finishing them off quickly and quietly. Inside the cave, the cries of a few baby kobolds could be heard. In the darkness they could be seen crawling over the bodies of their mothers, lying motionless, arrow shafts protruding from chests, necks and heads.

Wiping off his knife, the elf advanced into the cave toward the first baby. "Wait a minute! You can't kill them. They're babies!" said the human in elven. "It's not right."

The Damaran spoke in the elf's language. He hadn't learned enough common yet to get the point across. He usually only spoke common to the elf, which helped him learn quickly, but for conversations such as this, only the elf's language was adequate.

"They will die soon anyway. Their parents are dead and no one is coming back to feed them. Besides, nits make lice. This is a war between the humanoids and we allied races. They would not show mercy to us or our little ones, I assure you."

"But we're different. We don't kill babies. That's what makes us better. We can't let ourselves be dragged down to their level."

The elf's eyes flashed. "Fool of a human! You just killed these babies' parents and now you balk at finishing the job? What would you do? Take them to a temple to be raised in the loving kindness of Lathander or Ilmater?"

The human's eyes lit up at the suggestion and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Dolt! They will grow up to hate us, no matter what or who raises them. One day when they are mature, they will slaughter everyone who tried to raise them and they will come back out here and waylay people like us again."

The elf turned away and began the grim task of slaughtering baby kobolds. The human looked on for a while, then quietly turned and walked away. When he was finished, the elf looked up and shook his head at the departing human and spoke quietly to himself.

"Do you think I enjoy this? Killing babies?" he whispered to the human's retreating back, quietly wiping his knife blade clean and surveying the cave. "I don't, but I do what I must."

The elf looked around one last time, surveying the cave, then quietly walked out. He was almost halfway to Cormyr now, where he knew there were many more humanoids to be killed. As he left the cave, two pairs of reptilian eyes quietly watched the elf leave from under what appeared to be a pile of stones.

[Pookey]

The human watched the road, boredom clashing with duty. In the distance, a figure approached, walking lightly, with a grace that betrayed his elf origins. As the elf approached, the human saw silver hair, brown leathers and a fine bow. Definitely an elf. The human loosened his weapons in their sheathes and made ready his shield. Probably not going to be a problem, but you don't live long on the border by not being prepared.

"I am saying hello to you, human!" said the elf with a smile.

Confusion clouded the face of the guard briefly, then he perked up as something different was happening. Different is good when standing long, boring watches.

"Well met, elf. What is your business in Cormyr?"

"Yes! I am coming for living here in the Cormyr Kingdom today," said the elf.

The human shook his head slightly. Usually the elves spoke common pretty well, but this one spoke like a drunken Damaran. Sighing mentally, he went through his standard speech for immigrants.

"Very good! I am speaking to this man in building for getting papers." said the elf, pale blue eyes watching his surroundings.

"On your way, then." Said the guard.

He watched the figure of the elf walk toward the building, making sure he entered, then turned his attention back to the road. "Well, that was interesting," he thought. He looked up to the sun and wondered when his relief would come so he could get some lunch.

[Pookey]

The forest was silent, birds and animals sensing the tension as orcs cried in the far distance, calling to each other as they tracked the small group of elves. Just ahead, a small group of small elves huddled in the cover of a tree, closer observation revlealed them to be children, clinging together in palpable fear and looking around. Suddenly, a tall adult elf appeared nearby, as if out of nowhere, armed with bow and sword. He walked silently, his ice blue eyes laughing at their surprise, face framed by raven black hair tied back in a pony tail. He bent to one knee beside them, his smile reaching through his eyes, reassuring them as he looked at each of them. Behind his laughing eyes, they saw the hard, dangerous edge of mithral and knew that he would not allow them to be taken while he lived. Then it was gone, replaced by the laughing eyes Sywyn was well known for. His deeds of mischief legend in this area of the High Forest.

Sywyn looked around briefly, checking his flanks and the trail behind the group before motioning them to silence, then to follow him. He stood, stepping forward along the trail toward their next resting spot, a hiding place he knew well, having used it to elude the uptight recipients of his sense of humor. Once there, no orc would find them and they could rest and reverie for a time, then press on the final leg of their journey to safety.

He felt the sharp pain of an arrow entering his heart. His mouth opened in shock and surprise, then fear for his charges knowing he had failed them. Looking down, expecting to see the black shaft of an orc arrow sticking out of his body, he saw nothing. The pain in his chest and heart continued, then slowly faded away, when he realized it was not he the arrow had pierced.

Pain exploded in his head, bursting like a barrel of black powder, sending waves of despair through his body. His hands moved to his temples as he stifled a scream, dropping his bow and falling to his hands and knees. He rocked back and forth, mouthing "No, no, no..." over and over on the ground. He saw the face of his beloved, his soulmate, his last kiss and her smile as she told him she loved him and to hurry back. Now he knew... the arrow was in her heart, her eyes looked up unseeing at the world, he soul flew to the Summerlands like an arrow. He felt her pulling at him through their bond, her distance from him increasing at the speed of an arrow's flight.

One of the children moved to him, placing her hand on the back of his head, bending down to look at his face, eyes not comprehending. "Sywyn? What's wrong? Are you alright?" The others looked from him to each other, shaking their heads slightly as their eyes shot silent, frightened questions at each other, then looked around for the enemies they knew were tracking them.

In his mind's eye, a black pit opened up, calling to him. "Come Sywyn, end your pain, be with me forever now in the Summerlands, come to me, fall in to me and your pain will end." He could feel the soothing edges of the blackness calling to him, hear the voice of his soulmate calling him. "Sywyn, you must come to me now or the bond will be broken!" His soulmate's voice gained a hint of urgency. He relaxed and prepared to fall into the blackness, to be with her forever more, when a gentle touch and a small noise tugged at his consciousness. He looked back, down a long tunnel, seeing his surroundings, the wood, elf children as if looking through the wrong end of a spyglass.

The children... they would die without him. "Sywyn, you must come now or nevermore." Pain, heartsickness, waves of his despair ran through his body like ice water in his veins, as he looked into the soothing, cool blackness for a moment that seemed like forever. "Goodbye Sywyn" her voice full of regret and pain, sounded in his mind, his own body wracked with his sobs as he felt his connection to her fade, her presence so far away now he could feel nothing of her.

He felt the touch of the child patting his shoulder, her hand wiping away tears as he lay on the ground. "Sywyn?" Eyes opened, focused on the young elf child, then slowly looked around, sounds of the forest penetrating his senses, the feel of rocks pressing into his skin through leathers, his bow on the ground before him. Now, an incredible ache filled his chest, where before there was love and warmth, flowing freely to and from his beloved. Slowly, he got up from the ground, moving like an ancient elf in the twilight of life, leaning heavily on his bow for support.

The children looked up at him, eyes wide with fear and confusion. He looked back, icy blue eyes no longer full of laughter, only deep wells of pain, yet still behind them was the hard, sharp edge of the mithral blade. Slowly they began questing, searching the area for threats, watching the path ahead, behind, searching out to the left and right. He shuddered briefly, then smiled reassurance at the children. This time though, the smile never reached his eyes. Some of the older children watched and wondered if it ever would reach them again. His hand signals bade them be silent and follow him, as the small group moves quickly through the wood, followed by the cries of orcs far behind, but closer than before.

One week later, a small party entered the elven settlement, slightly ragged and trailworn. Elves raced to take up the children with cries of delight and relief in their eyes, picking them up and carrying them off to food and drink and warm, soft beds. Standing alone, he leaned against a tree, forgotten by the adults in the joy at seeing the children, but not forgotten by the children. Each child stared back as they were carried away, watching the silent elf who brought them out of danger, his hair turned from raven black to pure shining silver overnight, eyes no longer laughing, body haggard and thinning. They remembered him crying out in reverie, so that they had to cover his mouth to silence him. His shame and embarrassment at endangering them forgiven with hands that held and hugged him tightly as he broke down again and again in tears. Later, by the evening campfires, their elders spoke of the death of Lissa, ambushed and slain by orcs on that day, and how she cried out to her love Sywyn to come to her as the life faded from her eyes.

Years passed, and Sywyn the Quiet began to speak again, and sometimes to smile. Still his old friends looked at him with worry, sending the children to him when he seemed most fey and uncaring of life. They would play around him, pulling him into their games until he would begin to smile again, though all noticed his smiles never again reached his eyes, and sometimes his hand would go to his chest as if some old wound or pain troubled him. Some who saw said there was no scar upon his chest to cause it, but others knew the truth of it.