Unfettered - Part 2 - Crossing the seas

Unlike dwarves, elves greatly valued magic- possibly as much as humans, though it was still often perceived as a means to an end. Elves spent centuries honing magical talent into forms of wizardry that serve as the basic templates today. Their libraries could rival those of dwarves and gnomes, if it weren't for the nature of elven society. Instead, elves often only passed on their knowledge to their direct descendants, forming family grimoires and reputations that spread their names far and wide among their own kin. Elven families were held in prestige for the knowledge they passed down, with the boldest and brightest blazing a trail for others to follow. Elves and humans seemed to have very different views of royalty.

When Bryne first laid eyes on the princess above him, he knew he was either delirious or in love. Dark eyes and darker hair, she stared back at him. Her touch was calloused, but gentle. Her white robes were silken, but frayed. Her smile was practiced, and then she rose, and let another tend to him.

Mylleile was an elf of the sea, a stout flower usually wandering the Azura ocean. Water elves, as they were simply known to land-dwellers, lived most of their life only briefly touching the shore for trade or supplies. Myl's own family had grown their barge from a sapling off Elfheim's coast a mere two centuries ago. While Bryne drank their fresh water and sampled a surprisingly hearty salad, Myl explained the ways of the water elf in words few dwarves had the chance to record. She described with great passion how the druids formed her massive barge from a tree as tall as mountains, taking years to gently soothe and guide the still-living wood into a craft that'd continue to grow on the sea. She recounted the stories of the first crew to board their craft, leaving the mainland for a chance at fortune or adventure. She explained that she and her brother were of a family of summoners, but that her brother had recently gone missing, and was probably somewhere on the orcish continent.

When stars began to break through the evening twilight, Myl was still singing the tales of her solace-filled life. Myl expressed surprise and relief that a dwarf took such interest, despite a lack of parchment or paper to jot it all down. She concluded with a polite smile that she despised the nickname 'Myl'.

Bryne's cheeks grew rosey, and he quickly bowed his head in apology to Mylleile. For a half-century old dwarf, she remarked, he acted much like a human child, full of wonder. Bryne could only chuckle, then sip more tea. Perhaps it was because she was short and strong, or perhaps Bryne simply had a latent appeal to elven finesse, but Bryne couldn't help but find the princess fascinating. She commanded her crew with simple and polite orders. She showed Bryne her eldritch companion; A water elemental in the shape of a sea serpent, and the true discoverer of Bryne's capsized craft. She admired Bryne's handiwork, claiming that she had not seen such care put into a tree-sized canoe. Had she not noticed the respect he'd given the tree's remains, she might have had second thoughts about picking up a Slag (exiled dwarf). When Bryne offered his services to her and her vessel, he spotted the slightest twinge of disgust on her lips; "No thank you," Mylleile responded gently, "I'd rather never see a mortal tool harm our Liberra; You should next ask a dryad if she'd like to bake in one of your forges."

Bryne quickly excused himself, and claimed a need for rest.

It was clear that Mylleile's crew were wary of Bryne's presence. Despite their normally calm and professional facades, he caught wind of a few whispers and glaring glances. He learned soon that his presence was a disturbance upon the natural cycle of an elven barge; His lack of expertise often got in the way of various sailors, his appetite was rarely sated with just one serving of their food or water, and even his stool was deemed improper fertilizer for their beloved tree-barge. No sailing expertise could possibly compare to the way a water elf guided dozens of massive leaves to steer a small sea-dwelling city through the ocean. While his fancy for Mylleile quickly extinguished out of fear and neglect, his respect for her only grew. It was entirely her responsibility to deem where next this craft should go, and whether they'd meet with profit, monsters, or the end of a sword. Her patience with Bryne was well practiced; It was also her responsibility to deal with all others. She was the face, this barge the body, and each of her crew were a limb driving the beast forward.

One early morning, Bryne awoke with the whole vessel in a stir. Bryne left his pod-like quarters to find they had just made contact with yet another water elf colony, and were planning to board. Flares flew up into the air like fireworks, in direction of the distant vessel. When the other clan responded with flares in like, Bryne guessed that their colored lights were akin to a code or language. What he hadn't guessed was that the ship he was on, as massive as it seemed to him, was actually on the smaller end of things. As they neared, Bryne was sure that the elves were mistakenly steering their barge straight into a whole island. If Mylleile's was a small city, the colony they were approaching was a metropolis accompanied by surrounding towns.

Bryne kept to himself throughout the whole exchange. Though he'd picked up snippets of elven language on his journey, water elves speaking their native tongue was like a dialect all in its own. Before he knew it, a massive root shoved Mylleile's vessel off, and they were on their way again. "She's sick," Mylleile commented. It was the first time Bryne saw her frown. "Some strange curse or disease. Half of them are blaming some drow spy or hag, the other half see it as an omen of war." With a sigh, Mylleile concluded: "They were hoping for some aid, before resorting to harvesting her seeds. It's a shame to see her go..."

When a shore bird perched itself on Liberra's branch, Mylleile promised to drop Bryne off at a safe port. She claimed that she'd need to continue her search for her brother. Bryne bowed his head and promised that he'd return her generosity by searching the land for her sibling. "If you find him," Mylleile warned, "Keep to yourself and try not to judge him too harshly. You can tell his mood from his Air elemental. Just tell him," she scrunched her nose, "that Myl sent you."

With that, Bryne found himself on a massive floating leaf headed towards a port town.