Cataclysm, page 25
part #1 of Rebirth Series
“Leldeif? Is that a dwarven name?” Tic asked.
“No, elvish,” Leldeif replied causing Tic to sit straighten up in surprise.
“Elvish, I have never met an elf before,” Tic said excitedly.
“I kind of gathered that, but I am not a good one to represent what the elves are like, at least not…”
“Oh, why is that?” Tic asked not making the man finish what appeared to be some dour reflection. He was painfully aware of the man’s missing ears for some reason, elves ears are supposed to be pointy. On a longer not so polite glance he noticed all of the scar tissue.
The man slowly turned to Tic revealing the horror that was his face. Not only was he missing his ears, but he was also down an eye. His left cheek was permanently twisted from a long wickedly curved scar that ran from above his forehead, down the side of his face, and on to his neck where it looked as if the blade had been plunged in to the hilt. The scar was black inform ash or soot on the blade the skin… bubbled from the heat of fire.
Tic calmly turned back to his coffee as if nothing was amiss, not wanting to stare at the man whose face would definitely label him as a freak in some crowds, however, Tic was raised better than that. He knew better than to comment or judge someone over appearances, especially when it looked as if it was something violent that had been done to him. He tried to quickly think of an accident that could have happened, but in the end realized this was the result of battle and torture.
Leldief laughed loudly at Tic’s lack of reaction and Tic saw why his accent sounded so different. His tongue had been cut out and he was shaping the words with his lips alone.
“Well I am glad that you found something humorous, would you like to let me in on it?” Tic asked as he looked at the elf’s face, unflinching.
“It is you my friend, you are funny. I have seen many reactions to this horror that I have to call a face, but never in all my days have I witnessed no reaction at all.”
“So, you have some disfigurement, big deal. I’ve seen worse,” Tic lied.
“Have you really?” Leldeif said, Tic noticed that he almost had to twist his face inside out to shape the ‘L’s’ but they sounded right.
“No, to be honest, I haven’t. I was always taught not to judge a man by his appearance. Shysters like to appear rich so they dress flamboyantly though they may not have a penny in their pocket. A rich man, at least some rich men, hate being judged for the money they have earned and they also hate being approached for money, so they might dress like a bum or at least down to avoid it. Those who are born to money though, well they’re another story entirely and my family does not travel in those circles, so we don’t comment on them. I myself, well…I was born to work I guess you would say.”
“Interesting, I appreciate the proper manners you have displayed, you are a credit to your parents. I would think, however, by the way you sold boots in the last ten days, that you would have the money to associate with the high born.”
“Oh, we have the money, in fact several of the elite owe our company great debt and pay interest on that debt monthly, but we are not like them. My father never wanted us to be like them, so we kept our business to ourselves and have been raised to work and contribute.”
“Is that what you do, lend money to rich people?” Leldeif pressed, making Tic a little nervous about the conversations turn toward money. For the first time he noticed that Leldeif carried a sword, as well as a shorter but still very long, dagger.”
“Look, mister, if you’re looking to rob me, I should tell you that I have already brought the week’s earnings to the bank so I have very little money with me.”
“Relax, kid, if I wanted to rob you, I wouldn’t have let you see my face or told you my name, yes…that is my real name. No, I am here to see about a job.”
“A job? You want to make boots?”
“No, I don’t think that I would be a very dedicated boot maker. All I know is the sword and at my age I am loathe to learn anything new.”
“I see, I’m sorry, but I have seen you walk into that tavern next to us here every day for the last month. I am not comfortable hiring someone with a drinking problem,” Tic said which, resulted in even more laughter from the elf.
“You don’t know much about elves do you, Mister Rowe.”
“No, in fact I know nothing about elves.”
“Elves don’t get drunk. We metabolize things much faster than humans and store it longer, so for me to get what a human would call drunk would take hours of shot after shot of almost pure alcohol. Besides, I don’t drink there, I work there.”
“You work there?”
“Yes,” he said and waited as if he was wondering what he should tell this young human. He preferred to keep things professional, but what he wanted as a position would require a more personal connection.
“Let me be open with you, Tic, which is something that I am not very good at, but since I would like to be in your employ, I will try.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that…I think,” Tic said, to which the scarred man smiled, or at least Tic thought it was a smile.
“Trust me, I am typically not this talkative. Something happened a few years back that changed my world, bad things. Things that made me not truly a part of this world anymore, unfortunately, I am too much of a coward to do anything about it.”
“I don’t know that, that makes you a coward, Leldeif.”
“Please, my story, let me finish.” He held up a single hand to stall anything else that Tic may say and he saw that two fingers were missing. Tic wasn’t intimidated by the elf, though it was clear that he knew how to use the sword on his hip, but he abstained from speaking.
“Since then my life hasn’t gone in the direction that I would like it to have gone. I am not absolving my own guilt in that matter as most of it was due to my own…nature so to speak. I tried being back with those of my own kind, but it made things worse with their pity as well as their thinly veiled disgust, so I came to Riverhouse. I thought that being here where all races co-mingled would make things easier, well…the verdict is still out on that decision. I burned up a couple of jobs until I got myself under control enough to function and then landed the bouncer position at the Blue Jug,” he said and nodded his head toward the tavern next to the cobbler’s storefront. Tic was getting bored with the story and really wanted him to get back to the point so that he could continue relaxing. He wanted to finish his cup of coffee and then stroll a bit and see what some of the other shops had to offer. This all seemed to be quite a bit of talk for someone who just wanted a job that Tic didn’t have to give, but he remained patient.
“So, in the Blue Jug I have been hearing talk. There are not a lot of reputable clientele within the establishment so their conversations are always bordering upon what some would term as barely legal if legal at all.”
“I guess I don’t see what that has to do with me,” Tic said.
“Yeah, I was afraid of that. You see, being new to not only Riverhouse but this continent, has made you the target of their conversations, Tic,” Leldeif said and Tic paused, knowing that this could mean something.
“I take it that they aren’t interested in a new pair of boots.”
“No, boots are not on their agenda. Most would be interested in the money that you have managed to generate over the last few weeks while others may have other motivations.”
“I apologize for being so abrupt, Mister Leldeif.”
“Just Leldeif, elves don’t use the mister or missus. It is simply rank or name with us.”
“Okay, Leldeif then. I would like to do some touring yet today so if it would be okay, could you get to the point of this meeting.”
“Yes, of course…sorry, but I just wanted to be transparent with you. Point, hmmm, well. I have lost my apartment and my boss at the Blue Jug has only been paying me half wages. He says that my face is scaring people away, but I think that he is just cheap. So, I need a place to stay and am willing to work for it is basically what I have to ask you for in a nutshell.”
“Work, hmmm. You said that you are not a cobbler so I guess I have to ask what you are suggesting.”
“Well, I could provide security at night for the price of you letting me use that shack behind the storefront there until I get another place.”
“Oh, I see,” Tic said knowing that the job he requested was simply one that they didn’t have available or need for that matter. “I’m sorry, Leldeif, but we don’t keep anything of value in the storefront and our factory is already secured through the Riverhouse guards Insurance. That is in our lease, so I don’t think that I can help you out with a job.”
“Oh, I guess…I should have expected as much. Thank you for your time then.” The elf stood and turned to leave, but Tic knew that he couldn’t let him go like that. He was all alone and didn’t have a roof over his head and he could tell that it took a lot for the elf to approach him like this.
“Wait a minute, sir, if you will,” Tic said, trying to think his way through the problem. “If you want to stay in that shack, you are welcome to it.”
“No, I am not comfortable with charity, thank you for the offer though.”
“Okay, do you know anything about gardening or landscaping?” Tic blurted before he got too far away. The elf stopped then slowly turned back to the young man.
“Is that some kind of joke,” Leldeif said, his anger barely contained.
“Joke? No…I don’t even know how that could be a joke?” Tic replied innocently.
“Oh, I thought you heard about…never mind. I do happen to have extensive knowledge in the field of botany, I am an elf after all.” Leldeif said and Tic wondered how far he wanted to take this. Then he remembered when Rowen took him around the place and showed him some of the other businesses and what they had done to make their entry more appealing to customers.
“Well, I would have to hire you full time for the projects I want to do, how much are you paid at the Blue Jug?” Tic asked.
“Two coppers a night, food, and drink.”
“So a half of a silver a week? I think that we can do better than that. Let’s go with two silvers a week, room, and board. Would that be enough to get you to give up your job at the Blue Jug?”
“It is more than I could have hoped for, sir. I regret that it borders upon charity, but I am not in a situation to refuse your generosity.”
“It is settled then, go get your stuff and we will head in and get to work on a pair of boots for you.”
“Boots? I’m sorry, but humans do not do well with elven foot wear.”
“I’ve noticed that your feet look a little different, it will be a challenge for me.”
“It will definitely be a challenge for you, that row of joints down the center tends to mess with you guys.”
“The what?”
“Elven feet, they bend differently than human feet do.”
“I guess we will have to learn as we go, won’t we,” Tic said with a smile, feeling something special about this man that he couldn’t quite make out.
* * *
“Don’t move,” the older man growled into Tia’s ear as he pressed her into a nook along a shadowed warehouse wall in a dark alley. Tia’s mind raced as she realized that… she was about to die.
The entire trip had been a nightmare as soon as they hit Skorsdale and found the city to be practically empty.
They had seen fishermen and other vessels on the way into the harbor, yet barely a soul in town. Traders out of Riverhouse were typically welcome in these small hamlets filled with swarthy people skilled of craft and battle-hardened .
“They have modeled themselves after their ancients and have done so since before the cataclysm.” Her uncle had told her. “Most consider them to be humanities oldest society. The men are large and strong, not large like a piner, but large from hard work, good food, and lots of ale. The Boot Box is just down the street, the top carton is for them. They would take a hundred pairs today if we could make them faster. I feel bad leaving Tic on his own to run things,” Rowen said to his niece.
“It’s for the best, Uncle Rowen, trust me. Tic couldn’t wait for us to get out of there. I am sure he has at least tripled the output.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it. He is good, very good. But there ain’t nobody that good.”
“Ya wanna bet?”
“Ho, you have been hanging out with piners too long. No I don’t want to bet. However, since you did make it a challenge, so I’ll bet you twenty-five percent of your take.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Tia asked warily.
“You get twenty-five percent less if you lose or twenty five percent more if you win.”
“Done, but to clarify, I am betting that Tic has more than tripled production only, not anything else.”
“Like what?” Rowen asked confused.
“Like some of the speculating I have done about new apprentices and additions to the shop to accommodate some of his plans.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Rowen growled in a tone that she was getting quite used to.
“Dare? You handed it over to him, Uncle. You can bet there will be many changes made by the time we return. So do we have a bet?” Tia prompted them back on track.
“We do, and I will be scanning the books to make sure it is better than three times as much.”
“Go ahead, backorders count.”
“What?”
“Backorders…they’re a pet peeve of Tic’s. He will have those moved off the shelves and sold in the first week.”
“You seem to think that you know him pretty well,” Rowen said and she just smiled. There were three boot shops in Skorsdale, all of who not only made their own product but warehoused and sold other makers wares. They were all skilled craftsmen, but were lacking in some techniques and features that made Lemure boots famous.
“Hilda! How have you been my friend?” Rowen was suddenly all smiles at the first cobbler’s shop they came too.
“Rowen, you crook, I was beginning to wonder if’n you’d ever make it back to the Dale,” the woman in her mid to late forties howled back joyfully. She wasn’t pretty nor was she ugly, she was natural and fit into the sleepy little waterfront like she was a permanent fixture.
“This is my niece, Tia, the one that I told you about.”
“Yeah…she’s the one who’s going to be running your route, ain’t she?” Hilda said.
“She is, after we spend some time getting her comfortable and all,” Rowen replied.
“Make sure knows the use of her blades or a pretty girl like her might have a rough time of things,” Hilda warned.
“She’s good enough, better yet she is smart enough to run and knows how to hide. That has saved my backside much more than knowing how to work a blade has. I was hoping your rangers were here so I could introduce her to them,” Rowen asked in his roundabout way knowing that it could open the door for a whole lot of conversation.
“I don’t know that they’ll make it back tonight. To be honest we have had a whole lot of movement north of us migrating to the north and east.”
“What is it, buffalo? Caribou?
“Goblins, a few trolls and even a giant but mainly goblins…by the thousands,” Hilda said watching for his reaction. She wasn’t disappointed as both of their eyes grew huge with surprise.
“Goblins?” Tia asked and the woman just nodded.
“Are they attacking?” Rowen’s voice bordering on panic.
“Nope.” She shook her head. “They’re just passing by. We simply ran a borderline of warriors to keep them out of our territory. Strangely, there hasn’t been one incident, not even a missing chicken. Scares me a little, to be honest with ya.”
“What do you do if things go south?” Rowen asked.
“Oh, we have contingencies built in with Riverhouse. Besides, if it gets that bad, they’re going to need us on deck.”
“Good for you, Riverhouse will take care of all of us, I am sure. Now on to business, I have twenty pairs of stock for your shelves and three pre orders, one for Erickson and two for Olsen.”
24
The Gardener
She calls to me at night, as she did upon that very first night of my arrival. She caressed my soul gently, softly running her warm hand over my entire being like my mother who was forever lost to my existence. At first I mistook it for being her, some spirit or latent energy that waited on this plane and just for the moment she could touch me and claim me as hers, but…it wasn’t. It wasn’t her at all and now my life will never again be my own for I have been claimed, by her.
“How do these work?”
“They’re better, but I still couldn’t wear them all of the time. Maybe for an event or something where boots were required.”
“Hmmm, what do elves usually do for shoes?”
“Simply a thickened leather sole is what is typical for us and we simply adapt,” Leldeif said.
“Adapt huh, take them off…I have an idea.” Tic waved his hands indicating the boots he had made for him. He was used to making thick heavy soles for work men and frost piners, not elves with an actual joint running down the long center of the foot allowing their foot to curl almost into a tube length wise. It was what gave the elves such incredible dexterity.
The elf went back to setting stones for the interior of their lobby waiting area which was actually outdoors facing the river for the view. The weather within Riverhouse was regulated, much to Tic’s surprise so there was no actual winter while inside. It still amazed him that it had been constructed in a way that encouraged gravity airflow, meaning that the southern end, being significantly lower in elevation than the northern end, allowed the air to naturally flow north once it was heated. This process of creating opposing currents between the water flowing south and the heated air moving north, enabled easy travel in all directions on the river. Side chambers of rapids and pools for fishing and other recreations, as well as aquaculture and commercial fishing areas were also dwarf-made and set to look as natural as anything in the wilds.
