"A Dwarf, a Wizard and an Elf Meet in the Woods."
Part II – Silver Tree
A/N: This chapter is even more self-indulgent that the usual fanfic writing. I wanted to tie in a previous story set 200 years ago and which took place in the area. The short history lesson presented is not relevant to the main story-line, so skip to the last third of the chapter, if you wish.
Chapter 18 – The 'Defenders of Silver Tree'
Stefane looked up at the sculpture that towered over the town square. A stone plinth, almost twelve feet in height, supported an amazing work of art. A wide, triangular, flat platform somehow delicately balanced on the plinth, held three exquisitely carved statues. Each was about ten feet in height and overlooked the square from its corner of the raised platform.
Mage, elf and dwarf had been crossing the crowded square on their way to the Baron's residence when Stefane slowed and regarded the stunning work of art.
"We've been her four days, and the town is not that big. I have passed by here a dozen times and each time I pause to admire this", said Stefane.
The setting sun gave the sculpture's white marble a pinkish hue, adding a touch of colour not seen during the day.
"Aye", agreed the dwarf. "The workmanship is amazin'. That little wry smile on the human mouth. The haughty sneer on the elf's face. An' the hooded third figure - obviously female but I'm not certain if it's elven or human – that look. Well, I'd not like to cross her in life."
"Who were they", asked Stefane?
Daelynn pointed to a bronze plaque at the base of the plinth. "It says who they were, right there. The 'Defenders of Silver Tree'."
"Um, yes. I can read. But a little more detail, Lady?" Implored the young mage.
"Master Gemfinder", Daelynn began in her earnest 'I am going to teach you something' voice. "You may not know of our Goblin Wars? Unlike the goblin races of the south, those in the Orcish Alps suffer from a madness that drives them out of their mountain retreats every few to several centuries. They set upon all peoples in an orgy of wanton destruction. Several hundred years ago, the founder of this kingdom, our Good King Tristan, faced them in battle, slaying the goblin king and saving the south from the goblin's degradations."
Daelynn paused, looking up at the three statues.
"The goblin hordes amassed again a few centuries ago – shortly after I was born. The kingdom was recovering from a Succession War and had little in the way of forces to repel the invaders. But the goblin horde stalled at Silver Tree. Mad as they were, the goblin commanders were not idiots. They knew that they could not leave a force of warriors behind them. Instead of preying upon the Central Baronies, the goblins attacked Silver Tree."
"It held", asked Garlt?
"Aye. The town's walls were higher in those days" said the elf, indicating old fortifications at the north end of the square. "But historical texts say it was close thing. Months with poor or no food and little water, constant attacks by waves of crazed goblins – the defenses were almost overwhelmed. But they held long enough for the South to get their asses on horses and set northwards. The town's forces were relieved and the goblins chased back into the mountains."
Moving to her right, Daelynn pointed to the armoured male figure. Sword held high his plumed helmet pushed back revealing a handsome face.
"Marshall Tor of the Northern Marches. He commanded the region's military. Friend and foe could see his white plumed helmet on the parapet day and night. His presence inspired fear in the attacking horde and confidence in his fighters."
Daelynn walked around the sculpture to its far side. "The robed male elf was a powerful mage-Lord from a southern clan. See his outspread hand, in the midst of casting? And in his other hand, a staff of great power. He could slay a hundred goblins with a single spell, or so the stories say."
"And", the elf stepped several paces to her left, pointing up at the last figure. "'The Ranger of the Northern Woods'. She is about to raise her bow and shoot. The artist captured such a strength in her stance and fire in her glance. And see, just above her? An owl in flight. Stories say that the owl would scout out the goblin forces each night, altering the defenders to any sneak attack."
"The names of the elves were not recorded", said Daelynn, wistfully. "There is another story that says the Marshall and the Ranger fell in love with each other and eloped after the final battle!"
"Ye Gods", complained Garlt. "It were a fine story up to thet point!"
Daelynn and Stefane laughed at the dwarf's obvious dislike of the romantic aspect of the tale.
Looking about the square, the elf observed that shops and stalls were closing. The sun had just set and within the hour the guards at the entrance to the Baron's residence, located on the far side of the square, would be replaced by their night-shift counterparts.
"At the west end of the square there is a narrow alleyway. Walk thirty yards down it. Stop and await me there", instructed the elf.
Stefane turned to ask why they had to split up, but the elf had vanished.
"She can be very… bossy", observed the young man.
"Oh, aye. Thet she can. But she paid fer dinner so we must do as instructed", grumbled the dwarf.
Garlt and Stefane were peering down the alleyway towards the now nearly deserted square when a soft voice from the shadows startled them.
"Thanks for waiting."
Dwarf and human jumped.
"Do ye have to be so sneaky and all", hissed the dwarf! "An' where ye been? It's almost been half an hour! This alley smells like piss!"
"I am not certain Daelynn, but I think Master Gemfinder was getting worried about you", interpreted Stefane.
"We, or rather I, was followed from the inn. Had to dodge the tail", explained Daelynn. "It appears that, while the Baron will not see me, he does want to know what I am up to."
"An' what are ye up to, elf?"
"Scouting mission, Master Dwarf. Night has fallen and the guards at their posts are thinking only of their supper. Darkness and inattention are a thie... er, scout's friends. Now, please keep an eye out for any who might wander this way? Stefane. I will need a boost up the wall behind you. On the other side is the Baron's residence. I need to take a look around."
"Ah", murmured Galt. "Thet explains the dark grey leggings, tunic and cloak yer wearin'. I can hardly see ye."
The elf turned to the mage. "Okay, Stefane. I will need a boost…"
Daelynn 's instructions were cut-off as Stefane grabbed her by her waist and hoisted her upwards. The top of the wall was still several feet above her head. She lowered her arms, resting them on the man's broad shoulders.
"Not quite what we need, good sir. It is fine enough for lifting a maid into or out of a hay stack, but I will need more height."
"Oh! Um, sorry." Stefane offered. "What do I need to do?"
The light in the alleyway was poor, but Stefane could make out Daelynn's smiling lavender eyes.
"First, lower me to the ground."
Reluctantly, Stefane obliged, stepping back and dutifully awaited orders.
"Now, lower your hands. Cup them like this. When I step onto your hands, lift fast. I will move up onto your shoulders. Now."
Stefane lifted the elf with ease. Daelynn stepped quickly up onto the man's shoulders and leapt, her fingers grasping the top of the rough stone wall. Concentrating, she pulled herself up. Hand to the top of the wall, the other hand, an arm, then an elbow. And she was up. Laying flat along wall's top, she looked down at her companions.
"I will return to the inn later tonight", she whispered. "Don't wait up."
"I think she's gone", said Stefane.
"Then let's be gone too, lad. There's ale waitin'."
Dwarf and mage nonchalantly walked out of the alley and crossed the square, neither one noticing a faint shimmering in the air behind them.