ic I Want My Tears Back

[RocketLord]

GM

 

The two Elven guards looked between each other. Did they marvel at the wits of the Monarch of Mourning? Did they ponder on the meaning of the words, or were they simply confused by what he was saying? 

 

"The lights of the mist? But..." one began, before the other waved him off with his hand. 

 

"No, brother. He cannot have!"

 

"But he must have!"

 

"But he cannot! It is the law! And only she would have broken the law!"

 

The two Elves turned to Lament again. Their eyes narrowed, the spears pressing closer. He could feel the bronze tip from one pressing into his neck, yet without drawing blood. 

 

"Just who showed you the path to the lights, traveller?"

 

The music was still playing, as merry as ever. 

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Oh dear! Lament really did not want to drop the Bog-wife in it. She had been helpful. On the other hand, he had a spear at his neck, which was rather uncomfortable. And, even worse, it affected the timbre of his voice. 

 

"Tales shall surely be told about your hospitality" he said, dripping some sarcastic acid into his voice. Perhaps a little shame would melt their hearts. 

 

On the other hand, he really didn't seem to have a choice. He was after the children, and his quest would go ill if he made enemies of the Elves. 

 

"The Bog Wife showed me the lights, I believe. But...I know nothing of your laws, and I the path I tread is most obscure. I am ignorant!"

[RocketLord]

GM

 

"The bog wife!" the first Elven guard exclaimed.

 

"The bog wife!" the other agreed.

 

They looked at each, then at the Hero of Heartache again. Spears slowly withdrawn, but not quite, they at least no longer pressed into Lament's throat. The music stopped. A voice called out from the hall.

 

"Bring the mortal to me!" It was a deeper voice. If the bog wife had sounded old, this, decidedly male, voice sounded ancient. It echoed in the hall, finally bringing the music to a stop. Invoking the bog wife's name had done something, at least. It clearly came from the throne in the middle of the hall, just around a bend into a smaller cave, where Lament could not see its occupant.

 

Withdrawing a bit, but with their spears still pointed at him, the Elven guards motioned for Lament to move. "You heard the King! Forward, mortal!"

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Nobility? Or Regality? Is the Noble Regal? Is the Regent Noble? Ah, I imagine regents are rarely noble. 

 

"Why of course, it be my pleasure, and my pleasure it be! Verily, it doth not displease me, and displease me - nay! it does not!" he half-sang to the tune of the now silent instruments. 

 

As he boldly stepped forward, he politely inquired. "And how do I adress his majestic majesty? with bow or courtesy or merry little dance?" he asked. 

 

Or unleashing the Void and letting them know what I am truly made of - both literally and figuratively!

 

But no, that type of theatrics would come later, surely!

[RocketLord]

GM

 

"You address him with a bow, as deep as can be." The first of the guards said, as they led Lament towards their King.

 

"You address him with silence, until spoken to." The second guard said, as he nudged Lament forward with his spear. 

 

"You address him as the one true king, ruler of all that he sees." They said in unison, as Lament now found himself standing before the throne.

 

The throne was made of oak. Finely cut, worked by hand, refined into a marvelous shape that almost seemed to shift and turn when the Baron of Bleak moved. There were no seams, no joints. It had all been cut from one solid piece. And on the throne sat a man. As pale as the other Elves, inhumanly beautiful, almost frightenly so. His hair was long and white, reaching to his waist. He was clad in a white tunic. Gold rings on his fingers. An antler crown on his brow. He looked upon Lament, waiting.

[Supercape]

Lament

 

When it came to bows, and deep bows in particular, Lament was on quite comfortable ground. His bows were most deep, and indeed, his mind, he had quite the reknown for the depth of his bows. In fact, he would confidentally claim that if the Olympic introduced competative bowing, he would bring home gold. 

 

Wait. I have to adress him as one true king but be silent too...which is it? which is it!

 

But alas, it was too late, for he was already in the presence of said one true king. 

 

His bow was most deep. 

 

"Forsooth, I greet thee, oh one true King, ruler of all he sees, whose reknown for mercy and hospitality knows no equal!"

[RocketLord]

GM

 

The King looked at him. His face showed little emotion, little reaction to the greeting or the bow. One of the guards objected, however! "I told you not to speak, until spoken to! I'm sorry, my king!" 

 

The King looked suitably unimpressed, as he remained on his throne. "And what mercy is it that I am renown for, mortal man? What mercy and hospitality is it that you seek at my court?" His words were like ice being stabbed into Lament's heart. Cold, with the same lacking emotion, with the same lack of care.

 

But what did Lament hear, from behind the throne? Hushed crying and sniffles. The sound of children abducted, most likely!

[Supercape]

Lament

 

The children! Surely!

 

Now, this King was beginning to look like quite the rascal. Child-napping? along with his ego and vanity!

 

How Lament despised the vain! Oh, what contemp for the ego! Why, he said so every day to the mirror when putting on his make up. 

 

And yet, the time for violence was not quite here. Mayhap the mystery had another layer or two!

 

"You are known for your most merciful mercy, and your most hospitable hospitality!" said Lament. "Why, I am sure songs are sung from here to the hut of Baba-Yaga! From the depths of Atlantis, to the Lunar Halls of Mister Moon!" he waffled, wondering, after he said it, what exactly the Lunar Halls of Mister Moon where. 

 

Never mind, it sounds good!

 

"I would seek song, dance, the beat of the drum, the flow of the wine, and merry making. Ah, these are the pleasures of life, are they not? And how sweet they would be were they accompanied by the frolic of gay children!" he sighed. 

Edited December 20, 2018 by Supercape

[RocketLord]

GM

 

The king stood up. He stood fast, he stood furious. He towered above Lament, as he stood above the Dealer of Downers. His eyes were lightning, his voice was thunder. The guards slowly backed away, leaving Lament standing on his own in the middle of the room. 

 

"What do you seek to imply, jester? That you know what pleases a King? What do you presume to know about my people, you insignificant, mortal gnat! Do you see my halls decked for merrymaking? Do you see my subjects dancing in joy? Do you see the tears of joy that springs from my eyes!?" The crying of the children were growing louder now. They were obviously scared. "Do you know who I am!? I am the Elf King! I am the master of the time before your time! I am eternal, never changing! I am the fear in the back of your mind in the dark! I am the joy at the dance, the smile on your lips! I am Elver Kongen! And I want my tears back!"

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Lament's eyes grew dark. 

 

"Then tell me, oh Great King" he said, so softly it could almost not be heard. 

 

"Why are the tears of children yours? They did not fall from your eyes, did they?" he said. His voice soft and terrible. The King might know, if was wise, that there was something inside Lament that was no fool, no helpless minion, and probably not mortal either. 

 

"Tell me why they are yours, or you are no King, but a thief!" he said, boldly now. 

[RocketLord]

GM

 

"I am the Elf King, mortal. All that I see is mine. All that I behold is mine." 

 

He stood his ground. If he knew about the thing inside of Lament, he did not show his knowledge. "Do you not understand? Do you believe that I wish to steal the tears of these mortal children? Are you that simple!?"

 

"Can you show me another path, then? Can you show me another way to return my tears?"

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"Simple I may be...." agreed Lament, for he really was out of his depth here. Not that he would fully admit it, not even to himself. 

 

"But perhaps I can be of assistance!" he said boldly. "If another path you seek, then I offer to seek it for you!" he said, committing himself to who knew what?

 

"Do you say then, that it is not the tears of these children you desire, but your own? You miss the tears of melancholia? of joy? of bittersweet grief?" he asked, inquisitively. "Are you saying you can no longer weep?"

[RocketLord]

GM

 

He paused. The Elf King was genuinely baffled. Did this man, this mortal, the Barrister of Bleak offer to help? Did he offer his aid? That a mortal could aid something far older than the very lands that stood above them?

 

"I miss the wonder, I miss the awe! I miss the sleepless nights that I used to live for!" the Elf King thundered. "I do not weep, I do not feel! I have seen too much, I have seen too little! I can entertain no more, I take no joy in great plays! I feel no sadness for tragedies! The stories that would once move me to tears now leave me cold and still!"

 

He stood down the heavy steps from the throne, standing right before Lament. He towered over him. He was beauty, he was nature, he was terrible and lovely, all at once. A thing as old as the void that gnawed inside the mortal man before him. "Then tell me, mortal, how can one such as you help me feel the lost in me once again?"

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"I thought as much!" replied Lament. "Why, how irksome it must be! Verily, it is a travesty for any such tragedy to diminish the full spectrum of your glorious palate!" he declared. 

 

Whatever that means. But it sounds fantastic!

 

"Then, O King, we must to action ride! Please allow me to offer my aide in such a worthy quest!" he said, bowing again. "My skills and wit are legendary, my power dark and mysterious! Surely so perceptive a King as your good self has noted that not any mere mortal could find their way to your melodic abode?" he questioned, but did not wait for answer. 

 

"Nay! I am to this course both determined and set! We must, in order to find your tears, find first who stole them!" he declared. 

 

"Parchment, Quill! For detective work is called for!" he said, waving around vaguely at the minions of the King indicating that Parchment and Quill would most certainly be vital components for solving the mystery. 

 

"Let us put minds to task, just as the great Sherlock of Holmes did in the street of Baker, as I am sure you are familiar with, O King!" he said, bowing greatly. "Alas that he is not of this earth today, but, let us make use of his method. Deduction!"

 

"And, great King, deduction starts with facts! Tell me - when did you last have your tears?"

[RocketLord]

GM

 

The King paused. He seemed to greatly think things through. Great thoughts, too great for any mortal to ponder, perhaps. Or maybe he was just wondering if this mortal that stood before him, that seemed to know a great deal more than he would have first believed, when he saw him, would be as capable as he sounded. 

 

"You heard the man!" The Elf King's voice boomed. Soon, an Elf appeared, carrying parchment and quill. It seemed that Lament was getting his wish. Detective work it was, then! 

 

The Elf King returned to his throne, slowly sliding into it. His body fell heavily into the tree that had been fashioned into a shape, quite unlike its natural one. "It was many moons ago, mortal. I do not know how many, to tell the truth. We had a visitor. She claimed to be a traveller, she had heard of the great shows that I commissioned, and yet... once she left, I could no longer feel the awe at the great showings. I could no longer shed tears of joy at great plays, or musical masterpieces... not even at the sight of the dance of an Elven Maiden!" He seemed to be more trusting towards Lament, now. Perhaps he could solve this mystery and save the children, after all!

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Lament duly carved ink to parchment with a flourish. He had an artistic flair, of course, but that didn't really include calligraphy. 

 

Moons

Visitor

Shows

Feel

Dance

Maiden

 

He finished with a flourish. 

 

"It seems then, that this visitor is your thief! Now, we must determine her identity! What can you tell me of her, O great King? Was she fair? Short? Tall? Complexion? How did she speak, and in what tongue? What said she of herself?"

[RocketLord]

GM

 

The King seemed to ponder. What, indeed, could he remember of this visitor? "She was not of this world, mortal. We thought her an Elven maid, but not of my kingdom. We welcomed her as kin, and if she is indeed the thief, we were betrayed." He turned to one of the guards. "Fetch a pair of seven league boots. The mortal will need them, if he is too seek out this thief, after all." 

 

Returning his gaze to Lament, he crossed his arms. "I truly hope you are a formidable warrior, mortal. That there are more to you than meets the eye. For the thief is no ordinary Elven maid, or even Elven at all. She is the Grendel's mother! A horrible beast in her own right! But if you bring back my tears from this foul beast, I will let the children go."

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"Grendel's mother! Then, O great King, we have it!" said Lament quite uncertain whether they had it at all, but quite certain that it was a good idea to appear certain. 

 

"Now, all we must do is locate this theiving thief who has mastered thievery!" he said, rubbing his hands in anticipation. Despite the stakes, he was rather enjoying this most novel of experiences!

 

"Where, do you think, oh wise King whose widsom is mose wisery, do you think this scoundrel would be found? I promise to determine the truth of the matter, and rectify the insult! For I do not merely do this for the children, King! No! Even if you had not stolen - ah - in response to being stole from, then I would gladly help you, for to live without tears is grevious and ugly a wound!"

[RocketLord]

GM

 

The guard came back, carrying a pair of worn boots. Old, and brown, and caked in mud. Once golden buckles to tie the boots were now caked in dust and dirt. They might have been wonderful boots once, but now, their magic were hidden behind age and use. The guard presented them to Lament.

 

"We know where she reside, bard. She is in Jutland, in a secret cave, not far from what was once the hall of Hrothgar, ancient king of the Danes. It is far from here. Days of travel by carriage! Maybe a fourth of a day by a modern train. But with these, these wonderful seven league boots, it will be mere hours!"

 

He paused, standing dramatically. His cape fluttering in a non-existent wind. "What say you, bard? Will you retrieve my tears from the foul beast? Will you be my champion?"

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"Jutland, eh? A secret Cave, eh? Not so secret from the eyes of the King, it seems!"

 

"I will indeed, O King! Tears should not be stolen!" a bit like Children...but this is probably the best way to solve that problem. 

 

Not the ideal way. But the best way. At least, that was what he told himself as he put on the seven league boots. 

 

"Secret Cave. Jutland. Yes indeed, I will stride there with most strideful striding!" he said, proudly, ginerly shuffling his feet. "However, if I may ask...how may I find the secret Cave? I fear it may be secret!" he asked, politely, with a big and humble bow. 

[RocketLord]

GM

 

The King waved his hand. "Bah, have you no sense for tales and stories, bard? Your quest has begun, your destination is given. You will reach your goal, eventually. There might be hardships on the way, there might be nothing but a peaceful journey, but, eventually, you will find your goal." Lament could see just the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. "You are not in the mortal lands anymore. The rules of your world no longer apply!"

 

He pointed towards the entrance that Lament had used to enter. "Now go, and bring me back my tears!"

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"Of course, great King!" bowed Lament, wondering if he had dropped the ball somewhat. In which case, it was best to exit stage left - and promptly. The King may not have been able to cry anymore, but Lament guessed he was still quite able to get irritated, angry, or downright furious. 

 

He took a few cautious steps to the exit, not wanting to propel himself to the skies quite yet. 

 

As he had no idea where this secret cave was, and in fact had no idea where he was in the first place, he decided to trust in magic. Or more specifically, the King's assurance of magic. 

 

It was better than nothing. 

 

So determined, he stepped outside and decided to lunge forward...and see where the boots took him!

[RocketLord]

GM

 

The first step was short. A normal step.

The second was long. Lament found himself moving several meters with one step.

By the third, he was striding across a distance that would be measured in miles. A single league, to be exact.

By the fourth step, Lament was travelling as few had done for centuries, at the least. With every step he took, he crossed seven leagues. The boots on his feet, that had looked so worn and and dirty, were now shaking off the dust and dirt. The buckles were golden. The boots were stark black. They were items of magic, of wonder, as they carried the raconteur of regret across unknown lands.

 

Faster, and faster. He saw passing lights. Cars, cities. He heard bits and pieces of conversations. Single words, parts of words. A ramble of sound, of life. But would he find his way?

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Seven leagues with every step! Verily, the boots are named well, for they doth do what it says on the tin!

 

He was not sure about the shade of Gold - not with the black. He would have gone a little brighter. A little more tinkle. But, one could not complain. 

 

He looked down and felt giddy, but maintained his composure - at least on the outside (which, when it came to it, was all that mattered, darlings!) lights and laughter, engines and words. He couldn't make sense of any of it, but at least it gave him some existential orientation rather than being lost in some ethereal burning world. 

 

He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know how he was doing it. But he kept bounding forward all the same...

[RocketLord]

GM

 

And then he stopped. Not in front of a cave. Not in front of a mountain. But in front of what had once been a majestic castle, now but a ruin. The castle of Hrothgar, once the king of Denmark. Now but a faded tale of monsters and heroes. Alas, it did not seem like Lament had reached his final destination. No such luck, but maybe the castle would hold the answers that he sought. 

 

Or maybe he would rather try again, to take a step and hope he did not go too far, or too short.