Conversation

The stern demeanor of the massive druid left little doubt with Ademar that he should choose his next words carefully. But what could he say? Who were these goblins he was speaking of? What happened to the townsmen who were chasing him? Where was he? Who was this imposing, one-eyed centaur and what, exactly, did he want? The confusion must have been clear on his scared face for the centaur shifted his weight noisily onto his rear legs taking a somewhat less aggressive stance although his glare remained upon the elf. Finally Ademar could take no more of the intense stare from the druid.

“I’m sorry but, I know nothing of these goblins you speak of.” The elf replied hesitantly. “The last thing I remember is falling from the river bank and then I was fighting to stay above the water then, everything went black…”

Vantil raised his hand and waved it over Ademar’s head as he whispered something that even the elf’s keen ears could not decipher. “Do not try to lie to me.” The druid warned ominously, his voice sounding very much like the low thunder that precedes a storm. “I have little time or patience left for outsiders.”

Ademar did not know a great deal about magic but he understood enough not to take lightly the words of those who wielded it. His next response cracked and squeaked through his suddenly dry lips. “I speak truth to you good keeper of the forest, I do not know of these beasts you speak of. I am a mere traveler passing through and wish no ill-will toward you or that which you protect.” As he spoke he gained confidence and conviction in his voice as what he said was all truth. He just hoped that the centaur was only reading the truth of his words and not the thoughts behind them.

Vantil stood there for several heartbeats weighing every word that the elf spoke. As the seconds passed doubt began to creep into Ademar and he started thinking about how he might escape if the druid became violent, slowly though, the druid’s scowl softened.

“I find it very odd that a fey creature would find it best to travel through the night, especially in a storm. It is flattering though, that the humans would not risk entering the forest to find you night walker. At least I will not have to deal with them too.” Ademar’s pale skin lightened at least two shades as he stood there, how could he know?!

As if on cue the druid spoke again. “I have a great deal of power within this forest and friends for miles in all directions. I spoke to a family of mice who told me of your passing through the plain.” The poor elf felt trapped, how much more did he know and whose side was he on? Were the back woods farmers and their overgrown smith outside even now waiting to take his hands!?

Ademar was trying hard to hold his composure but the expression must have been plain upon his face as Vantil lifted his large hand, bidding the elf be calm. “I do not know what you have done to anger the villagers but they seem to be done chasing you. As long as they do not come here again looking for you, and disturbing the forest I have no interest in your problems.”

Ademar relaxed visibly at that bit of news and reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow. He winced as his hand brushed across the rough, still-tender skin of his face.
Vantil spoke again. “I don’t know what brought these wounds upon you but I did what could be done for them. The burns were too old for my magic to heal completely. I tried using some herbs but they seem to have had limited success…” He lamented glancing at the bandages cast upon the floor. Ademar’s fingers played gently across his face assessing the damage. It was the first time he had really thought much of his wounds since leaving Caercaster a week ago. The fire had done the most damage on the right side of his face leaving long, crisscrossing ridges of tender pink flesh there. The backs of his hands and forearms were similarly scared; he must have been shielding the left side of his face with them. This will put an end to after-revelry revelry the elf mused darkly to himself.

For several hours following his waking the centaur and elf talked. Vantil told Ademar of all he knew about finding him laying on the riverbank, the goblin captain, the slaughter of the stags; he even recounted the loss of his eye which sent a chill down the elf’s spine. Through all of this Ademar gave sparse and vague information, guarding the shame of his recent past. The conversations drifted then into more enjoyable topics as the druid produced a meal of bread, cheese, a thick soup and a bottle of home brewed wine then stoked up the fire while dusk descended upon the world.

Through the twilight hours and long into the night the two talked of fond memories and past exploits. As the third bottle of wine dwindled and conversation topics waned the mood in the druid’s small hut sobered.

“I have tracked the monster.” Vantil stated. “I know which of those holes in the mountains he calls home.”

Ademar looked on having a good idea of what the druid was getting at yet hoping he would not ask.

“On tomorrows dawn I will leave the forest.” He paused and the elf swallowed hard on the last sip of wine in his cup. “I would ask that you go with me and help me exact revenge upon the monsters that use the ancient mountains as their shelter. Lantana demands that I put an end to these defilers. Their poaching must end.”

Before the druid finished his sentence Ademar was shaking his head. “I can not follow you into the mountains. I’m afraid it is not my path. I have an oath to fulfill and I will not risk dying before I can see its end.”

“You would turn your back on the forest?”

“I would see my vow to its completion. It is no different than that which you are proposing now. Would you turn away from this hunt for another cause?”

The druid thought hard on that for a moment before responding. “I understand. I will not force you to my cause but, know that the forest has called for your aid. Perhaps we can speak of this again before I depart tomorrow.” With that he rose, picked up the bowls and empty cups and retired for the night.

Ademar lay down on the pile of blankets and stared at the heavy logs of the ceiling. It was the first time in a while that he had been clean and warm and with a full stomach. It was also the first time in many years that he had to make such a difficult decision without any guidance. It would be a long night.