Saturday, 19 May 2012

A Fateful Meeting: Malmir's language woes!

The elf had done little during the curious exchange but admire the simple nature of humans. The way they puffed themselves up like strutting peacocks, spouted hot, but largely meaningless words and gabbled away in their crude, primitive language. Still, there was a rude honesty there, a truthfulness so lacking in his own kin. No lengthy diatribes here, no sonnets, odes or monologues crafted over the seasons to communicate the deeper facets of the natural world. No deadly dance of word play cast down through the years here, spinning arguments and weaving subtle meanings out of half truths and oxymorons.

His elders had a word for discussions such as these. Lotholothan. A rough translation of into reikspiel would have been something like 'the soft blade of eons'. Some of his elders had been arguing their point for decades, content to spend their lengthy lives nestled under the green boughs and waste their breath debating the nature of the fox, the thoughts of a river or even, the age of the world.

Johann had an interesting human word to describe such talk... What had it been?

"Bollocks!" Malmir said.

Harbull, his thoughts of sausages suddenly gobbled up, looked aghast at the brightly attired elf that stood so gracefully before him.

"You name is... bollocks?" The Halfling mumbled in amazement, his quick eyes not quite deciding to focus on the elf or the meat pies that a pedlar had just uncovered amongst the milling crowd.

Johann, Werner and the woman laughed... The tension between them evaporating.

His name's Malmir, " Johann smiled, " and I've already saved his arse once today, I didn't think I'd need to protect him from a hungry halfling. Or from the language barrier!"

The others laughed again, far more easily this time, though Malmir still stood rather aloof. His cool blue eyes turned back towards the town crier. "Perhaps we could gather a little more information about this contract from the hawker, as if you observe, there is hardly a rush of enquirers despite many obvious candidates? This could be a chance for us to make a tidy sum and head to a larger city?"

Just as Malmir spoke, another female human caught his eye. With an air of pompous, arrogance she accosted the town crier and forcefully loosened him of the contract. Within moments she had left the fat, repulsive man blinking in the street and entwined her thin arm with the of the elf.

Without asking any one's pardon she whisked them off towards the appropriate street and, hopefully, the chance of some easy pay.

The elders would certainly have had a word for a woman of this type.

Malmir was sure that Johann also had a word.


Malmir kept that particular piece of new vocabulary to himself- just in case- as he was lead away.

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