Falcon Island: Chapter 3 - Hamill

Chapter 3 - Hamill

            The first report of Orcs came two years after Radicus. The western Elven capital had been raided and demolished by an unknown race of barbarians. The report told of “heavily muscled men crawling from the ashy soil, gray and toothy,” and how the cannibals completely massacred the city’s defenses.  The attackers were called “Orcs,” after Ascher Orcus, the messenger who first told of their arrival.

            Ascher Orcus, a lookout, was the first to see the Orcs coming to the Elven western capital. In the midst of the raid, the lord of that capital sent Orcus to flee with his family and bring the news of the massacre to the eastern elves. Shortly after delivering the terrible news, Orcus went mad and began devouring his own flesh. In Orcus’s last days, he attacked his own family and was finally killed when he was found crouching over a pile of his son’s bones and the mangled corpse of his wife.

            Orcus belonged to family of Elven midwives. 

            The word Orc now just means “rapist.”

            Orcus was an Avox of Charbydax, the Blue.

            This is the legacy that the Blue god Charybdax leaves.  He is the god of water, healing, and community.  Only in the time since Radicus have people blamed Charybdax for the destruction of the coast and the expansion of the sea.  Water had always been a symbol of bounty and life.  Never had our livelihood been torn asunder by water before our villages started crumbling into the sea.  And every Blue Avox, since Radicus erupted, has lost his mind.

            I found nearly every day that I had periods where I was unable to think straight.  Thoughts repeated over and over behind my eyes.  I hate traveling.  I hate missions.  I hate journeys.  I hate the rain.  I hate traveling.  I hate missions.  I hate journeys.  I hate the rain.

            This mantra repeated in my mind as I threw thin strips of salted meat into my smoking chamber to dehydrate.  This set for the rest of the day as I continued my preparations.  I knelt and tried to pray.
            “Hail, divine birds….”

            But then I stopped.  What did I have to say to them?  They were not here.  I was an Avox, chosen by Charybdax.  Was not Charybdax obligated to guide me?  To protect me?  To reassure me?  The whole concept of the Avoxi was supposed to be a comfort.  Avoxi are supposed to be chosen by the gods, watched and cared for.  Charybdax was responsible for this rain and the Beating Sea.  Were not the Orcs already a grave enough threat?  I wanted him to just be gone.

            But I felt Charybdax over my shoulder, always pushing me, always questioning.  He wanted me to second-guess myself; he wanted me to live in fear, to live in between action and inaction.  During our meeting with the Elder Council, he succeeded. 

            I got up off my knees.  Prayer would not prepare me for this journey.  I took my chair to my desk and laid out my spell books.  The pages were damp and crinkled around the edges.  I lamented that I would have to take them out into the rain again.  I had three magic tomes, each in a satchel with a leather strap attached.  I packed them and stuffed them soundly with layers of fur. 

            I realized then that I did not have much else to pack.  Once I armed myself with leather armor over my faded blue tunic, put on my heavy leather boots, hung my mace from my belt and slung my tomes over my shoulder, my little hut would be empty.  I did not realize it would be so easy to leave everything behind.  Again.

            I paced back and forth for hours, waiting for the jerky.  I brought sparks to my fingers and immediately extinguished them.  Practice.  Out in the rain and the flooded plains, I needed to be ready at any moment.

            And that’s when I received a knock on the door.  A rhythmic, cheerful knocking.  Not Aureleus’s knock.

            I stood in the middle of my empty hut, a spark in my palm.  I never had company.  I had been careful not to become attached to anyone here.  Not after everything that happened in my home village.  The only person I could call a friend was Aureleus and that friendship had brought plenty of trouble as it was.

            “Who is it?” I asked with apprehension. Maybe it was someone from the shrine, come to offer a blessing.  They were losing their Chief Blue.  I suppose I should have gone to appoint a replacement, but why bother.  They would continue on without me with nothing but a whispered prayer to acknowledge my disappearance.  Aureleus said he would see me the next morning, but not then.

            “I’d really rather you just let me in.  I’m not a fan of breaking into people’s homes, but I’ll do it,” a small voice responded. 

            “I am busy.  I do not wish to be disturbed,” I said. 

            And then the door opened.  It swung inward slowly, and behind it under the canopy was one of the small folk.  “I told you I’d do it,” he said.  He stood about half my height, and strangely, the first thing that caught my attention was that he was dry.  He walked calmly inside and politely closed the door behind him.  He did not track any water in with him, and I was struck with curiosity at how he had managed this.

            He was dressed in grey leathers with the feather motif of Romox, the Grey. He had two hand-axes tucked into his belt on each hip, and a rope coiled across his chest. If not for the black mustache and short beard on his chin, he would have looked like a child playing dress-up like a soldier.

            I could not tell whether he was Halfling or Gnome.  The small folk are similar in stature.  Mature Halflings have the bodies of children with adult faces. Gnomes have a slightly thicker build with bigger heads and ears.  The distinguishing feature of Gnomes are their ears.  They are pointed, but not like Elves.  Gnome ears have multiple points instead of only one, fanning away from their heads and down their chins.

            It was strange enough to see a member of the small folk here this far north in Cloud State, but this one looked different.  “It is obvious you are from Little Wing.  What brings you to Cloud State, and here to my hut?  State your business,” I said with a frown.

            “Not even going to ask my name?  Seems a poor practice when meeting someone for the first time.  Some cleric you are.  No wonder they’re kicking you out.”  He hopped onto my cot and his feet dangled over the edge.  “The name’s Hamill, and the reason you’re wondering whether I’m a Halfling or a Gnome is because I’m neither.  I’m a Quill, a half-breed.  Got a lovely Gnome father and a darling Halfling mother.  Father’s a brewer, makes the Hop and Drop’s second most expensive mead.  Mother’s a seamstress, but you’ve probably never seen her work.  The cutest little dresses for the small folk schoolgirls.  You ever been to Little Wing?  I think I’d have remembered you and your scary friend, but he’s never been there either—“

            “Enough!” I finally interrupted his rambling at the mention of Aureleus.  “Who are you, and what do you want?”

            “Damn, you really are dense.  I told you:  Hamill, the Quill, son to a Gnome brewer and a Halfling seamstress, which is frankly more than you’ve told me.  But you’re right, I haven’t told you what I want.  You know, that’s a weird question: ‘what do I want?’  There’s lots of things I want.  A warm bed, a dry tent.  Yeah, staying this dry isn’t easy—“

            “You are not answering my questions!”  I lit my hand aflame.  “And I am growing impatient.”

            He hopped off the cot and started backing toward the door.  “Great Sagitax and Stratox, are you tense.  I’m here because I want safe passage out of Cloud State.  And frankly, you and your freaky friend are the two most powerful people on this side of the island and you happen to be on your way out.  Now, some people would ask questions about why you’re leaving, but not me.  I just want to get to Raptor’s Rock without getting eaten by Orcs.  And if your friend loses his mind and decides to eat me, then that’s only half an Orc eating me.  Ha! Get it, ‘cause your friend is…Hmm, never mind.  You get it.”

            He was just standing in front of the door across the fire pit from me.  We stared at each other for a few moments, and he started madly tapping his foot to fill the silence.

            I extinguished the flame from my hand and the smoke rose. 

            “You want out of Cloud State?  You want to go to Raptor’s Rock?  Why?” I asked apprehensively.

            “Hey, I didn’t ask you any questions.  Seems only fair for you not to ask me, right?  Besides, ‘strength in numbers’ and all that.”

            “The Elder Council would disagree.  They seem to think the fewer the better for this mission.”

            “When have you started taking the Elder Council’s advice on traveling?  They’ve never left that smoke chamber.”

            “This is true.”  I paused to consider the possible outcomes of this conversation.  “I know this will sound utilitarian of me.  What can you offer to our expedition?”

            “I thought you Blues were all about ‘community.’  Listen, I’m dry.  Are you?  You been pacing around inside for hours in your dry hut and I can still hear your boots squish.  I don’t have to prove my ‘usefulness’ to anyone.  You let me travel with you, and you might get to have dry feet for a change.  Good enough for you?”

            We stared at each other, and I could not help but smile.  The prospect of dry feet lifted a weight from my damp soul.  And like that, Hamill joined me as we met Aureleus the next morning.