CHPT 408: Questions Build our World.

Half-Elves....

Humans crossbreeding with the Monsters of the Tangents. Not through a bite-- not through a vicious mauling and transference of bodily fluids and magical furs. Through the natural process..... in theory. But then again, that didn't sound very likely. To have a child born-- truly, from the union of Man and Elf. How could it survive? How did Rollan and Liam survive? Who raised them? Where are Elves accepted in human society? It all sounded so unlikely.

As everything had been for the past two weeks. Unlikely. Bizarre. Weird. Claude had only ever heard of such things in fairytales-- scary stories meant to keep modern day men and women away from Witches and Wizards over rumors of their ghastly choice to interbreed and fornicate with all manner of creatures for more power. Back when Witches were referred to as Hags.

But, now it seemed there may have been validity to the old ghost stories. Rollan was a living piece of evidence. But he was no Wizard. He was a Druid-- a Warrior. A talented Swordsman. And Claude was incredibly lost...

It seemed everyone else was well. The silence that filled the small firelit encampment was only disrupted by Ursula's monstrous snoring. Cassidy sat off to Claude's right, his hands still hovering over his mechanical bows as Rollan held his sword to him over the fire. The flames knicked at the metal surface for so long he could smell the materials on the metal surface burning.

At his left, sharing the bench with him, Piet watched the two as he tapped his hooves against the soft earth. The impossibly powerful muscles in his quads were taut beneath his skin. He may have looked like he was simply seated, but his weapons were very much at the ready. Canis mocked his older brother while the Banshee- Ma, watched on contently. Being able to essentially see Death coming kind of made her clairvoyant to the current scenario. As long as she wasn't screaming, Claude wasn't too worried.

Even so. Everyone had seen Rollan fight. No reason not to stay on guard if he aims a weapon at you.

"Rollan...." Claude said warily.

Rollan grunted and dropped his sword, a collective sigh of relief flickered the flames they sat around.

"You're old.... I mean no offense, but that means this happened a while ago. Where on earth is this occurring?" Claude asked in reference to Elves laying with Humans.

Rollan shook his head, "I'm no human, Monsieur. Assuming my age is about as good as trying to breath underwater, no?"

"What are you saying?" Claude asked.

"I'm saying, you don't know enough, hm?"

"Ain't that the truth." Cassidy whispered.

"Then explain it to me. Help me understand you..... Liam and the touch of the desert. I'm lost, Rollan." Claude replied.

Rollan huffed to himself in thought for a moment. Seeing his cloudy white eyes move about them all circling the fire was freaky at best. But he'd forgotten it all when Rollan began speaking.

"Oui.... alright. Let's go back thirty years." Rollan said as he held up three skinny fingers.

"[A bit more recent than I would've thought.]" Arne interjected. Claude agreed.

"....Back when Man was still fighting Man as much as Monster across the North Solgrond Ocean, hm?"

The North Solgrond. The ocean that split New Gloria from The Sunlands and Arthuria.

"Are you referring to the wars for territory in Arthuria?" Claude questioned.

Cassidy nodded, "Back then, Arthuria was split by multiple Monarchies and Huntsmen groups that traveled in search of Excalibur from Islandia. Back then, people just referred to the whole of that area as The Red Shadow Lands.... Vampires loved the absence of sunlight and abundance of war."

"[Indeed, they did.]" Arne agreed, his voice made grim by what must've been an all too detailed memory.

"Oui, you are right, Hunter." Rollan agreed, "It was all Red Shadow, Monsieur. Blood and darkness. All of it. This was long before any idea of joining into one Nation of Arthuria was possible like its become today."

"[I BEG YOUR BLOODY PARDON?!]" Arne screamed in Claude's mind in response to learning of how the times had changed in his absence.

Rollan nodded as if he heard the Lupine Guide, "Arthuria was once small. A land of noble and refined people pushed to the edge of the Solgrond Ocean. Oui,.....ehhh, much of that side of the world was split into small groups. Beliefs. Understandings of the world. Only brought together by trade and bounty. Some places were better off, other places were hell on earth, hm?"

Claude nodded in understanding.

Rollan looked down at his hands, his leathery dark-skinned face twisted in anger and disgust, "Some places... Monsieur-- they must've been cursed. Cursed by the gods that we cannot see, no? The Tangents appeared in clusters..... where I'm from they were called bouches de mort. Death Doors. The Animals surrounding the area, seemingly as twisted and conniving as the Demons from below.... Oui, it was horror back then."

"Rollan, where are you from. Where did something like this happen?"

Rollan looked up from his old hands, meeting Claude's eyes, "A small place that is no more, no no. Long since taken over and rebuilt by the growing Nation of Arthuria. Back before then-- back when.... ehhh, I was there. It was only known as Gevaudan's Gulch."

Claude didn't know that name. It made his skin tingle though.

Cassidy grunted, "Sheesh... That ain't no joke....."

"None at all." Rollan agreed.

Canis and Piet nodded with the Banshee seated between them. The three looked so odd-- capable of taking out entire teams of low Ranked Heroes and mid-level Demons. Now seated at a fire where they were copying human mannerisms in an attempt to socialize with the pack they found themselves apart of. Despite this, they too reacted to the name.

Gevaudan's Gulch.

Rollan ground his sword into the ground, giving himself something to do physically as he retold what must've been incredibly troubling memories. The last time Claude saw him in such a way was when he spoke about his traitorous friend, Lilith. The Wolf-Shifting Witch.

"In the Old World-- before... ehhhh, all of this. It was simply known as France. A quiet a peaceful land surrounded by Mountains and beautiful sculptures." Rollan explained.

"France sounds pretty...." Ma said.

"I'm sure it was, Madame." Rollan agreed, "Gevaudan's Gulch was not. The lacking amount of sun-- the constant storms, made it and all of the lands around it breeding grounds for Vampire Covens. The warring border cities and countries left the humans weakened. Amongst the Vampire Covens, Dark Elves became some of their most powerful assets, hm? That and Necromancers. There were even Dwarves that came down from the Mountains,..... ehh, employed by Coven heads to build city-like compounds below ground and in the forests." Rollan looked around, finding everyone looked on with cringe at the stacking disasters, "Oui, it was as messy as it sounded. It gets worse, Monsieur."

"Boy does it..." Cassidy agreed.

"How?" Claude asked in near disbelief.

"The Mountains. Oui, the Mountains. The Dwarves that came down from their massive heights told the Vampires one thing. Never enter the Mountains."

"Why?" Claude asked.

"It is called, The Curse of Gevaudan." Rollan explained.

The name.

"In the Moutains, Wolves lived in the thousands. Something inside the Mountain changed them. Cursed their blood, drove them mad, gave them sentience, and an infinite hunger. Oui, it was said to be a sort of magic... born from the fear-- bloodshed, violence and discontentment of Humans. A collective magic focused and pressed into the Mountains by the Beast of Gevaudan."

"The what?" Claude asked.

"A boogeyman, Monsieur. Some say it's one of the DarkGods pets that's escaped to our realm.... others say the Wolves were just evolved from the Wild Rifts in Islandia. I've even heard some WereWolves say the Beast of Gevaudan is real, yes? One of the first WereWolves-- banished, overrun by his own pack and left to twist and torment himself alone for centuries."

"They're all theories. Nobody knows, and that's why the Beast ain't real as far as I'm concerned... and being that we're over an Ocean apart, I'm not very concerned." Cassidy said.

Claude felt like he'd fallen into a rabbit hole of information, "Wait-- how the hell does this get us to Half-Elves?"

Rollan shrugged, "Quite simply, Monsieur. When the last of of the Dwarves left the Mountains to join the Vampires. The Wolves and the Beast had no one to contend with, hm? Nobody to go to war with. Those Mountains surrounding the Gulch were vast..... but food ran low quickly. They descended on the people below immediately."

"And then?"

Rollan sighed, "A secret Royal Organization consisting of experienced Witches, Wizards and Hexblades presented the idea of a hybrid defense force to the King of the Gulch. Naturally Monsieur, it was passed. And those like Liam and myself were born. They called us Javelins."

Claude's mouth almost hit the floor. Not because of what exactly Rollan just said, but because of what the entire story implied.

"Rollan.... you're only thirty years old?"

Cassidy suddenly caught onto it as well.

Rollan shook his head, "I'm twenty-seven."