Skymen, derogatorily: Elves.
The Head Councilman Brofloski wandered amidst the home walls of Vytlydh, if there was one thing the men of Sky learnt well it was comfort (well, so too the dwarves, it were only a man thing). In spite of his "status", he greeted and were greeted like every man before and after, left or right. Although there was the man here or there who was made to warn the Councilman of the Zaonites, there was no man who ever wished to steal the role of he, it was only in the military such things were seen.
Speaking of, a man (of course of the sky) ran on foot towards him, horses were not needed if you could outpace them and harbour more rations for yourself; vanity for certain was not a concern in the world of the humbled.
"Broflovski, the Zaonites were spotted at the southwest, near the tavern of–", Kyle shook his head with a scoff; murmuring
"The giggling donkey… well, I suppose they know how to have fun; let's not keep them waiting!" Broflovski raised his voice and pitched a smile, even if he was in no particular mood to deal with the Zaonites; deciding to be honest and slouching with a hung face.
The two ran off, where only a squad to what could've been a legion of violent warriors of scorned men. Slowing down, the Councilman followed a pattern ingrained in his memory; there was no culture because history was not lost nor neglected or erased, it was merely a part of day to day life. His hand clenched, and his fingers in a furled position started galloping, from the two on the left to the two on the right, murmuring chants of readily available reading. After a bit of his hand performance, his index straightened out and pointed; Broflovski opening his eye which now saw a mile ahead of him. Wherever his finger pointed, he saw what was hidden behind the fog of the human futility; dragging his finger left and right, lazily opening
"Was it luck you were stationed here or was your Fathership on the path of reprimand?", the men of the sky laughed; nodding along to the head councilman's humour. One of the sonhoods admitted
"You know much too well Councilman the Father isn't fond of a sober mind against the Red Men of Hell!", Broflovski scoffs and chuckles yet again
"I do, he tells me every second day… or first, I can barely tell by the ounces that we share–", the men rile up with great laughter, and not a pint had been shared with them; let alone entered the giggling donkey.
As the crowd of sons enjoyed laughter with the councilman, it were soon closed by the crack of noise; the Councilman fell back as he felt the side of his head, his hair was carved out by a sphere. Gasping and waving his finger around, disorienting himself as he saw way above the sky than he was meant to or the microbes within his fellow man's hair; soon disappearing to find the assailant.
The Councilman fixed his senses, relinquishing his powers to properly see what belay ahead; it was a whiles off for any man, except for those of the sky. He rushed along to the noises of grunts and cuts and wheezes and gashes and slashes, becoming aware of the noise once he reached the sight.
The Marshal, the only non-red thing in the army bled red against her lavender coats, the elves were only unlucky to be hurt; meanwhile she were lucky to be alive. The Marshal raised her hand in a recognition, a signal between distant friends in healing.
"Marshal"
"Councilman, of the Elves.", the Councilman jittered with his face; something within it hated what was spat upon him
"Elves?", The Marshal nodded; walking a bit closer, her foot sinks into snow and under pressure of wounds
"Yes- not exactly the base standard of man, are we?", Broflovski looked her up and down, taking a step back and rolling his shoulders rear to puff his chest out he sneered
"And you are?", The Marshal bowed her head once more, winking an eye with a voracious grin
"Why of course, the base is always the weakest of your alterations when scaling; I thought you were blessed councilman buttt… I suppose man could always take the undeserved spot of the peak of this little rule.", the Councilman squinted; shaking his head and shrugging, leaning his head forwards
"What could you possibly be talking about, Marshal? Scaling? Towards what? Which man holds more power? More capable? It seems rather childish; each man to his merit has worth in ways a linear balance cannot discern!", the Marshal tutted a little, pouting with her hands behind her back as if she regressed 25 or so years in much more ignorant times
"O' Elf of the Great Council, is blindness common in the Elven heritage? Surely you must know the difference between the Rabbit and the Lion–", Kyle tensed his face, groaning as he heard the rhetorics that groomed many men of the unpromised bloodline
"Marshal please– this toying of words, you know I'm the wiser."; the Marshal glanced at him, blinking her eyes shut and then nodding, she began to walk off. The Councilman lost, looked the elves on the ground; they were able to handle themselves, turning back to the Marshal walking away.
"So– what was that Marshal? That… tool– that must've been your's, you couldn't have thrown it that far! And I'm refusing to believe you came better to a bow–" The Marshal chuckled and murmured
"Not a day without doubt are we…", the Marshal walked on, scoffing as she pulled on a leather belt that slung over her shoulder; remarking
"It's a tool of fire, and propels stone; that's all it is." as she continued to march on, waving him off, but the Councilman was going to continue for a question longer
"But why not take the shot? I know you could've. I saw you.", the Councilman wasn't good at lying; it wasn't a part of his job. The Marshal recognised, as it was her job; but she humoured the Councilman with a joke, stopping
"To check if you were mortal.", she wasn't good in humour; she was a liar in deals of dark tragedies, this were a sunbathe conversation in comparison and the Councilman was feeling the consequences of her Tonal whip. Raising a brow, he tried rolling back, redefining her statement
"To scare me? Prove you were better?". The Marshal stared at him, her face was tight; even when she laughed there were creases that showed an age she wouldn't be for another 40 years; walking up and feeling the back of his hair like most concubines had, she leaned her head forwards and whispered in his ear
"You are in the land of man now, it's best you leave; Councilman soon to be of the Sky.", before stepping back and raising her hand; taking a twist and leaving towards the land of the scorned men. Shaking his head, he returned to the Sons of war, who had bettered themselves; a bit worried on the new device of war the men of the lowlands crafted, a parasite infested the elf.
"Sons, what say we have a drink? Hadn't hurt anyman lest they were lowlands!" The sunken men rose in mood a bit; all reaching the giggling donkey to get a drink. Walking inside, they were met with a friendly tender, an old son– more like an older brother to the men who wandered inside, a Valmer. To the lowmen of Kupa Keep, he was but a cautionary tale of Elven Human relations; cursed with a body that can't handle its magic, but to his brothers, he were a tale of guilt.
The Councilman walked to take a seat, seeing as the older brother struggled to walk along with the wooden instruments; the sight wasn't surprising, only disappointing as the offer were made, which he reminded Valmer.
"Had the practitioner found work elsewhere, Jimmy?" Jimmy shook his head; he weren't a liar, like the lowman, nor like the skyman in front of him.
"N–nuh, th–they d–di–di–di–dih–did tr—try to vi-sit, t–t–thou-though.", the Councilman shifted in his seat, looking down at Valmer's legs; ruined as always. He cleared his throat and tapped the counter, the Old Brother driving a drink towards him
"And… What words were shared? I suppose nothing… sufficient.", Jimmy puffed, shaking his head and looking down as he muttered
"I–I–I declined and she u–uh… sh–she was sh-shocked. S-said no sane man would de–decline.", Kyle looked down, swirling his drink and taking a sip; turning his head up; he nodded as he lowered his voice to make genuine criticism of his friend
"She's right you know… no harm towards you–", Jimmy nodded, leaning as he poured a little more in his cup before being stopped by the Councilman earlier than usual; a sign that Jimmy couldn't avoid it. But Jimmy could, it was his gimmick; humour.
"W–well o-of course! A man goes i–into war and he c–comes out an e–e–eh–elf! Th–that's no sane man! That's an elf!", the bar laughs at the slur, raising their drinks and cheering him on. The Councilman sunk in his seat, giving an awkward laugh; before resuming under the guise of depraved humour
"Hah.. yeah…" he took a moment to think, then resumed
"...Listen, Jimmy. Easy choices are hard and few to come between– you should know that, look what it cost you!" as he gestured to Jimmy's legs, leaning forwards with a smile; Kyle begged quietly
"But this? This is an easy choice! You could go all over again! No requesting for people to walk you over to places! You! Free to be!". Jimmy looks down, he takes a turn thinking, and exhales through his nose; and says
"I got a good one–" The Councilman sighed, rubbing his face
"Jimmy, Please–", but there was no stopping; it was Jimmy's gimmick after all.
"A ma–man walks into a garri–g—gar—garris—garrison, w—with a sword and shield; h–he says 'I–I'm going to be a hero!'... th–the man walks i–into ba–battle a–and is asked 'd–do—doo you w–wha—want to be a hero?'- the man s–says 'yes! I–I want to be a hero!'... b–but the man was asked a–an even harder question. N–nobody said it b–but the man… looking at t–those lowla–la–lands… h-he answers the question w–with a yes; and crawls out with a y–yes! E–everyone c–comes h—home, ex–except for the man; i–instead an elf comes h–home! S-so the father a-asks, 'wh–what was the question?'; and the elf s–says, 'i–is an elf's life worth m–more th–than a mans?', the man laughs, asking 'wh–what's the difference?'; and th-the elf says 'o…one is human, th-the other isn't!'" as Jimmy laughed, it wasn't a funny joke, but people deal with things one way or another; Broflovski cleared his throat, murmuring
"They probably would've grown up being a soldier anyways…", Jimmy wheezed as he knocked on his leg; flinching a little as he murmured
"A-a very good one…", he took a few more moments, then lowered his face; clearing his throat as he resumed
"So, the elf, h–has come home; b–but an elf doesn't belong h–here… the–they belong with a s–sword and shield, s–serving… s–so the elf has nothing… e–except for his walking stick; a–a souvenir t…to h..homier times.", Jimmy leaned back, clearing his throat as he murmured
"A…anything else I…I ca–ca–can do for you, K–Ku–Kyle?"; Kyle took one final drink and nodded, remarking
"If you recall, do you know the location of the Men of the Highland's Minister of Arms Resides?"