086 – Of Aristocratic Elves And Bourgeois Elves

The boy had disappeared, while Master Mundrl and Steven’s escort were sorting through his clothes. They put his underwear aside, discarded his worn socks into a separate pile, and were going over his BDU trousers. They looked at the setup with the pockets and storm flaps pulling a bandanna from a pocket, jabbering to each other in their tongue. Then the escort turned to Steven, translating.

“You carry things in your thigh pockets?”

“Gloves, bandanna, other soft things.” Steven answered.

The elves jabbered a bit more, as the trousers were turned inside out and the Master examined the seams. The translator spoke a bit more.

“Do you kick much in your fighting? Crawl around, or stretch your legs wide?”

“I don’t kick much, but full movement at my hips is good.”

This was relayed as the trousers were put aside. The costume from the Palace was glanced over, and then put on top of the discarded socks. The rest of his clothes were looked over, but little asked of. Most of his actual gear was ignored, but his leatherman got a few moments of play before being put back down. Then his vest was all but ripped apart as every pocket and seam was examined.

The boy had returned with a notepad and his father, Master Mundrl, began jabbering at him as the boy recorded. Then the two adults jabbered.

“Do you find the vest and pack acceptable?”

“How do you mean? I’m used to it. Everything is where I expect it.”

The adults jabbered, as the Master continued to inspect the vest, hefting it and testing its openings.

“Does it repel water? Does it dry quickly?”

“Parts of it act as a sponge. But it is tolerable.”

Master Mundrl stopped as this was relayed. He then put the vest on the pile with the suit and socks. He examined the pack inside and out, removing the water bladder in the process and setting it back down when done. The Master then spoke through the other elf to Steven.

“Is the pack as tolerable as the vest?”

“Yes, but I would have brought a different one, had I known what I was getting into.”

This elicited a rapid back and forth that Steven correctly guessed the generals of. Steven interrupted it, with a wild idea that came completely out of the blue into his mind.

“I presume that this is the discard pile. And what’s here is to be replaced. If I could get the pack I would prefer, what would happen?”

The escort translated this. The Master looked from the escort to Steven, and back, and then spoke a staccato of words. They went back and forth for a bit, and then stopped. The escort stayed quiet. Steven had no clear idea about elfin gestures and expressions, but guessed that his escort was frustrated and feeling put upon. The escort then spoke, making a swirling motion with his hands. Master Mundrl beamed.

The escort turned to Steven. “I will need to tell my clan leader. How fast could you do your merchandising were you sent home?”

“I would guess one, maybe two days.”

The escorts look darkened, as the other beamed and picked up the old sword. He inspected it, mumbling to the boy, who filled a page on his stack of notes just about the sword. The other sword was next, the scabbard dismissed as serviceable, but obviously not made by a craftsman.

A question was relayed. “Do you intend to keep and use this sword?”

“Keep? Yes. Use? Doubtful, if the older one is better.”

The crossbow and its bag for bolts were looked over and moved on from with little comment.

Steven interjected, picking the weapon up. “This is small for me.  Could I find one bigger? I have not been anywhere that I could wait for one to be made, before arriving here. Nor have I really had time to shop here for one.”

Steven shouldered the weapon as he was want to, and then moved his hands to where he would prefer, moving the weapon off his shoulder, and his front hand off the stock to slightly in front of the bow.

The translator made no effort to provide any input. The Master looked thoughtful, and the son just made notes. After a moment, Steven put the crossbow back down.

The rest of the stuff was sorted and finally the bedroll exposed. It was the only part of the kit that Steven felt any embarrassment about. He pulled it apart, keeping 2 blankets as the third was immediately put in discard. As the Master inspected the other two, he moved one to the discard that Steven pointedly moved back.

They looked as each other for a moment.

Master Mundrl nodded once, and left it in the keep pile. Finally the Master picked up Steven’s greatcoat, which he had managed to keep in good condition. He looked it over, and held it out to Steven. Steven put it on, and they moved over to the block in the dressing area. Steven secured it in place and settled it. The Master babbled to his son, as he pulled and adjusted.

Then the elves looked at Steven’s boots. These elicited a bit of an argument between the elves. Through the translator, Steven was asked if he wanted new boots, as those he wore were very definitely showing wear. Steven responded that if he could get new ones from home that could be then taken apart and used as a base, that would suit him; the boots he had seen here did not impress him at all and the few he had tried were not comfortable.

The Master elf turned to the escort, and they spoke at length for several minutes. Steven got down, pulled the coat off and began to repack his stuff in the discarded bag, when Master Mundrl stopped him.

“Go home. Get your things. Come back.” The Master spoke in English.

Master Mundrl smiled at the escorts discomfort, as the boy left the room sniggering. The escort left, motioning to Steven to follow. The boy returned with a box that all Steven’s ‘keep’ pile went into.

Master Mundrl spoke again. “You get new clothes, new vest, and pack. You bring comfortable pattern. We make it.”

He bowed, with bubbling mirth in his eyes.

Steven returned the bow, finished packing the discard pile in to the pack, took his coat, belt knife, camera and film and followed his escort.

The escort was still huffy over being the butt of the merchant’s humor as he entered the suite where the Caplan’s were staying. He first spotted Roxanne, then found Caspian there and spoke rapidly to the mage and left.

Steven collected Roxanne as the others talked, and watched the elf leave. Caspian stood dumbfounded. Rox watched the elf leave, with a look of amusement.

Finally Steven broke the silence. “Well?”

Caspian turned to them. “Pack for Terra. You’re going shopping. How did you manage to offend him?”

The conversation during dinner in the café oscillated between offense given and taken, and what would be wanted to purchase and otherwise acquire on return to Earth. Just as dinner finished, Master Iver’s Assistant brought two stone disks a bit larger than dinner plates, gave them to Roxanne, and left.

With the meal done, Caspian took the disks in hand and led out from the café back to their rooms. “We need to leave the city to use these. Then Roxanne will teleport us to the convergence point. I will take us to Terra. However, we had best keep things quick. Any more than three days, and the elves will presume that you have given up.”

“Earth days or local days? And then what will they do,” Rox asked.

“Probably local, which are longer than Earth. Then they retrieve your children on their own, and raise them themselves here.”

Steven stood. “I say we go as soon as we can. I just left all my clothes at the outfitters.” He put his coat over his arm.

Caspian shrugged. “Fine with me.”

Roxanne moved toward the bedroom. “I’m going to change. I’ll be right back.”

Steven looked around after watching her leave. “Where’s Cyrril?”

“Out, somewhere. I send him away when I have to talk to elves. The stuffy galumphs needn’t have him to tell them what I think of them.”

Half an hour later, they walked out of the hotel where Cyrril joined them. They headed for the city gate. Master Iver joined them as they walked, but stayed quietly aside, and perhaps unrecognized by all but Roxanne.

Once outside the gate, Caspian picked a spot off the road and where it looked like few came directly and set one of the disks on the ground. Using it for a locus, Caspian guided Roxanne in the teleport spell to carry then across the continent to the stone circle where Roxanne and Steven had first set foot on Tywacomb. This took a bit of work; Rox had no clear memory of the circle, so she he instructed her in finding it by its unique arrangement. Once done, she set up the rest of the spell and cast it.

The spell was a variant on the one Caspian used, using Rox’s staff for the center. They all watched the land fall away, arc under them, and finally tip over and accelerate at a mountain.

They landed in almost the center of the circle of stones. Rox and Steven stepped aside and sat on stones large enough to hold them. Caspian leaned on his staff for some support and walked aside.

“I have no idea at which of the two points on Terra we will land, or what time of day. Also I hope you know just what you are after.” Caspian dropped the second disk out of the way.

Steven patted the parchment that he had written his and Roxanne’s wish lists on, hoping nothing had happened to shut down their financial accounts. He also had his camera and film; he used up the last of his third roll as they waited, taking a multi-image panorama of the view. Rox had a few things with her, including a leather bag containing her new jewelry set, and another with all her dirty laundry. They rested a bit, as Caspian set to charging up with mana, Cyrril doing the same. Roxanne looked about in some wonder, and stretched her awakened sensitivity to magic, soaking in the sensation of the several ley lines.

It was late afternoon, and the sun was low on the horizon, with one of the twin moons visible at about its zenith. After an hour of sitting and taking Caspian reported that he was ready.

The three stood in a circle at the center and each gripped Caspian’s staff with their right hands. Caspian then cast the spell to travel the ley lines to Terra. They all felt awareness leave them, coupled with a sense of upward acceleration.