Fiction | Shadow Kingdoms

Sorcerer, Chapter 56: The Welcome of the Elves

A fantasy gamelit web-novel

This is part of a fantasy gamelit web-novel, with a Dungeons & Dragons flavor. The full title is “Sorcerer, Level 1”. Click here to begin at Chapter 1, or click here for the contents page!

Ten minutes later, Alcar and Leppie were standing just behind Remiz, surrounded by a group of seven other elves.

Foremost among them was an individual who had been introduced as Roebers, and who was plainly Ramiz’s brother — if not his identical twin. The elven chief was slightly the taller of the pair of brothers, and — despite what Ramiz had said to Alcar — appeared to be sober.

At least for now.

The other elves around them were dressed in varying styles of clothes, mostly dresses and robes, all of which looked clean. Again, none of them really looked like farmers, and the majority of them were smoking pipes or cigars of chorna leaf, as Ramiz had been.

The elven woman nearest to Alcar pulled some pieces of sliced meat from a pocked and held it out to Brutus, who gratefully wolfed it down.

“Welcome, strangers,” announced Roebers, and then he sneezed, and looked to the side; the nearest young elf provided him with a handkerchief, and he blew his nose noisily before progressing. “Welcome to our small and peaceful town, Riverhome Village.”

“Welcome!” called out another elf.

“Woot!” cried a third.

Another coughed loudly, and then spat.

Alcar glanced around. The place was certainly not a town, and could barely be called a village, in his opinion. The streets were unpaved, with each building emerging directly from the grassy landscape, and most of the few houses were wooden and rickety-looking. A minority at least had stone foundations, and most were painted, though the paint was often a patchwork, as if repairs frequently needed to be made.

“We thank you all for your hospitality,” said Leppie, stepping forward and giving a curt bow to Roebers.

“Yeah, man — thanks,” added Alcar, stepping closer to his companion and eyeing the the elven leader. “We’ve travelled far from Katresburg, and have further to go. Do you have an inn, or some shops around here?”

The young elven man beside the leader stepped forward; he was one of the darker-skinned individuals that Alcar tended to think of as red elves, and was wearing a long yellow robe. “There is a single store selling food and farm produce,” said the young elf seriously. “Perhaps some supplies for your dog can be found.”

“That would be a start, yes,” replied Alcar. He reached into his robes, and pulled out the jar of red pickles that he had taken from the wooden chest, back at the gulley. “We had more food, of course, but then had to abandon what wasn’t already rotten when we were attacked. It was the kobolds…”

He tailed off, aware that all of the elves were suddenly crowding in on him and looking closely at the jar he was now holding.

“Is that a jar of lewin pickles?” asked Roebers intently, stepping forward with the others, his eyes widening.

“Roop-roop yumkies!” called out a voice form behind.

“Head candy!” hissed another.

Alcar looked from the elven leader to the jar, and then back. “I mean, it could be,” he said, tossing it in his hand and then passing it to Roebers. “If you want it, you’re more than welcome. I’ve never tried them before, but our friend Kora packed them for the trip.”

Roebers’ eyes lit up as he took the jar. “These are much prized among this community,” he said. “They grow only in the great swamp, and few have the skill to pickle them. Oh… we’re going to have some fun tonight!”

Most of the other elves were now crowding around their leader, and Alcar caught Ramiz’s eye.

“Told you my brother is a drunkard,” said the elven man. “And he is overly fond of foods like that. The effect on humans is mild, you see, but on us elves, those are powerful hallucinogens. He’ll be off his head for hours. It makes my bad habits look pretty mild in comparison.”

“Sorry, man,” said Alcar with a shrug.

The leader and most of the other elves were now walking away, bearing the jar with them. The woman with the dog treats gave one last piece of meat to Brutus, and then hurried after. “Let’s get smashed!” she cried out as she moved away.

“Oh dear,” said Leppie.

“It’s all right,” said Ramiz. “Or rather, it isn’t, but it’s not your fault.”

“I was going to tell them to look out for our friends,” added Leppie. “Travelers by the name of Ubund, Etienne and Olynka. A human woman, a halfling man, and one of the vep-te people.”

“Uh, huh,” said Ramiz, nodding as he looked at the healer. Ubund is well known to us, and should know his way around Riverhome Village. As for the others, well…” He shrugged, pulling another cigar from inside his robes. “As long as they are not goblins or kobolds, they will be welcomed. That place over there is the inn. Though it’s not like the inns you would find in a city. Our local herbalist lives there.”

“Sounds just fine,” said Alcar, patting the jars in his pocket.

Sorcerer, Chapter 55 >> series contents page >> Sorcerer, Chapter 57

At last, a safe and simple place to rest…? And hopefully Ubund will know the way there…? Reunions surely await soon. Onwards! Thanks for reading!