Willow's End - Jera Skyspear
Elvish words/phrases linked to Glossary OR hover mouse to see translation.
Thunder

Not since the Spring Equinox had it rained with any consequence. In fact, winter had been unusually warm and mostly dry as well. Now it was well past Midsummer. In the valley below Raumo Korda, all the new plantings lay crisped in the fields by the sun. Not enough water could be carried to them and in fact it had become difficult to even find water to carry. The creek beds were dry. Ponds were reduced to puddles of scum. Only cold streams from rock faces were still running and what had been a rush was now a trickle. The humans in their valley were rationing what water they could collect, sparingly keeping themselves and their animal stock alive.

The dwarves had water reserves within great vaults beneath the mountain, but kept them secret. They had coin and metal to trade for food, but the humans on the other side of their mountain had very little food for themselves, so that meant much less for dwarves to buy, if any. Their money wouldn't fill empty stomachs. If only the two groups had shared, they might have been able to use some of the reserved water in order to save the crops, but that required more trust than either was willing to give apparently.

High upon the mountain, the third side of the commerce triangle was surviving. There were more pleasant things to consume in more plentiful times, but nourishment could be gotten from a number of sources so the elf clan employed these creatively. They also knew about collecting water from dewfall and such. It took patience but the Sithryn could be very long on patience when needed.

The air grew hotter and drier as summer marched on toward a harvest that was unlikely to yield anything but fueled tempers and further desperation.

In the meantime, the elven clan upon the mountain had spare time to think and discuss, without the occurrence of storms to watch. These discussions ultimately led to fundamental questioning. What were they doing on this mountaintop and why? Perhaps even patience here was being tested by scant provisions and inconveniences.

As the clan talk circled, it was told again how the plan had worked just fine for more than a century. The elves increased the presence of mithril within the silver mines below. They'd gotten a reasonable amount of it mined for their use. The dwarves had been content to make great fortunes from the lion's share of mithril, ordinary silver, and other precious metals in their mines. They had good trade with the humans who seemed to have no end to buyers of raw and worked metals. Plus, all three parties had agreed to maintain the peace and in fact promote friendly commerce between them for the duration of the arrangement.

While there had certainly been other dry seasons, not in all this time had it been so persistent as now, and the sensitive dwellers on the mountaintop felt the tension rising upward. The dwarf and human leaders had changed over time and perhaps the most recent of them were not as secure in the pact made by the trio of races.

Something more was troubling the elves too, now that their involvement had been curtailed by what they knew to be a natural, though infrequent, cycle. While the metal workers among them most certainly delighted in the creations they made from mithril, the talk wound around to the primary use of the special metal. All others seemed interested in it for one thing... the making of war.

Mithril silver was indeed superior for creating more powerful weapons and more protective, lighter armor. But did these Sithryn want to be so intrinsically involved in that? They decided they did not. So, in a way, they were being given an opportunity to halt their involvement in the perpetual struggles between the races and even within them. They no longer had a wish to participate in the advancement of death and destruction. They had in fact left their original home for precisely this reason. Though rain was needed, they were in no hurry to see the storms resume or to continue working with them.

Even so, this lengthy drought was bound to be irksome to their contract partners. With no lightning and no silver being converted into mithril, the dwarves noticed the drying up of that commodity. Considering that it was worth many times the value of gold, there was much more to perturb them than just the scarcity of food or water.

The humans began to believe that the mountaintop dwellers, whom they didn't trust in the first place, were perhaps hoarding or stopping the rain in some way. The dwarves capitalized on this perception in order to gain an awkward ally in trying to force the hand of the elves. After all, the dwarves weren't really sure how the elves increased the presence of mithril silver, only that they had been but now they'd stopped doing it?

As preparations began for what would be a rather subdued Harvest festival, the elf clan council received a message from the neighbors below. Attendance was requested for a meeting on the dire situation which was striking the dwarves and the humans. It was a very cordial request, even with a hint of concern that the elves might be having as much difficulty, so perhaps they'd come to share ideas. Indeed, the invitation was entirely too cordial. Yet, the leadership of the Clan of the Blade of Light on Raumo Korda agreed that it would be an appropriate gesture to speak with the other two parties involved in their now fragile agreement.

The meeting was held in a great hall within the dwarf complex. The assembly around the long stone table was impressive, being the uppermost command of each of the three factions. There was general talk at first, reports of food and water shortages and the like, then the dwarf lord called the issue of rain into question and this was directed rather pointedly at the elf leadership.

Jera's mother, Kumori, the primary interpreter for the clan at such meetings, was very careful with her understanding and her wording, in all three languages. Although most of the meeting was being conducted in the Common Speech, she wanted to be sure that each message was clear. After a brief pause she explained the elves' official position on the rain question:

Although they did indeed make use of storms (the details on which she did not elaborate), they did not control their presence nor frequency nor duration nor any such thing. Since the problem was really lack of rain or storms and Clan Hyandakalan did not summon, only direct, then the clan leadership could only calmly advise the other two factions that they could do nothing until the skies themselves opened up.

This did not sit well. The dwarf lord posed his point differently, and quite tersely, but the answer was the same. The elf clan did not control the weather, they only capitalized on it, when present. They could not reverse the cycle of drought. They could not bring nor make rain. They could not promise any useful action without storms appearing... of the sky's own volition.

Very quickly gazes shot around the room, some accompanied by almost imperceptible nods. The dwarf lord then slammed his fist upon the stone table and made clear his anger at the perturbing calmness with which the elves were lying to them, all of them, and had thereby shattered their agreement!

DHP © Jun 02 2002

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