Sigeweard listens to the she elf. His eyes soften. His breath catches at times as he seems surprised or perhaps stunned. He nods fiercely. Though the elf still wears a translucent robe, adorned with ruined chain and scale, his eyes remain chastely on her face. He listens till she finishes, then inhales deeply.
He seems concerned. "This is complicated..." he begins.
"The elves first and most core spiritual principle is that Correlon created them to be perfect. He did so as a response to something greater than himself. To the best of his understanding, the elves are what he knows to be perfect. The same can be said of any of the elder races. "
His brow furrows as if he is contemplating some of this for the first time also. He seems to agree with what he is saying. It's odd to see a person listening to themselves talk and sorting through the information.
Cuthbert's servant continues retelling the elf's response to Nomin's query.
" Correlon's greatest and most scared gift is the purity of his design. All of the Seldarine, the deities of the elves, are responsible for some aspect of Correlon's gifts. They are ever watchful of impurity. This may seem to be a poor mix for a race who strongly espouses the free ebb and flow of chaos, but that's the real beauty of the elves "
Sigeweard wrinkles his brows at this. It borders on sacrilege to him, yet he seems to be an elf friend. perhaps he struggles with this on a personal level.
" Elven tradition teaches, that when the forces of law and chaos clashed, the Seldarine represented chaos. Many met oblivion. Immortals can be utterly destroyed. Yet, to many this was part of the chaos they allied with. At some point they came to understand something. Chaos is neither good nor evil, it's just random. Randomly beautiful or ugly. Straight and graceful or crooked and grotesque. Chaos alone is mostly a thing that can not exist for long in the world or the universe. By nature it wants to be formless. Chaos is not destruction it's a lack of construction.
The Seldarine felt a need to be. To exist. To be proud and vain. To eat sleep breath and love. In order to do this, they had to defy the lords of chaos. The lords merely wanted to eradicate law, so they could return to the primordial ooze that they had come from. Existing brought them pain and the lords of law forced them to become solid. Forced them to be. "
Solara grunts and starts to clean the blood off her blade. She scowls as Sigweard, Vanya and Nomin discuss the War of Law and Chaos. She seems very resolute as if her mind has been made up. She distracts herself by cleaning and sharpening her blade. She plucks a few arrow shafts from her upper body armor, then tends to her horse.
Sigeweard rubs his head as if he is fighting a migraine, yet he continues. At times he stops to clarify a point with Vanya, before continuing.
"The Seldarine came to understand though they were beings of chaos, they also enjoyed existence. Life was precious to them. Chaos is a constant force and it's overwhelming entropy means death for all things eventually. Death permeates chaos and to be of it or to serve it means to surrender to the eventuality of oblivion. The Seldarine understood this and navigated through the war. Though they were not neutral, they were able to remove themselves from the struggle and see, each side had merit. Total law is stale and sterile. Total chaos is ugly and at best uncomfortable.
In time servants of law resented being sent to battle chaos. Why not just enforce the tenets of law and put a final binding stop to the flux of chaos. They revolted. The splinter formed the ideas and forces of good and evil. Life, beauty, comfort and anything that fostered these things was good. Destruction, pain, hurting, oppressing, and killing were at the other end of the spectrum. Law and chaos had elements of each. "
" The Seldarine, saw chaos as a wondrous force, yet wanted to remain. They brought forth the first elves. Letting chaos grow and change them, but cutting away darkness, crookedness, ugliness, pain and misery. They grew wild like plants and the Seldarine pruned them. From that day, elves have been very much in tune with beauty and nature. They prune their world much like the Seldarine. They do not need the straight and tall towers of the humans, they prefer the wild, curving spirals of a great old tree or some wizardly flow of crystal and steel. For them all beautiful things are desirable, but the allure of natural random beauty is by far the greatest of all. "
As if on cue, Vanya seems to understand Sigeweards translation. she speaks in very broken common. " Elf spend days cutting away darkness. Clearing away the webs. Making room for new beautiful things. New elfs. Elf celebrate how much beauty is to the life of the dead. How much good is left behind. And sometimes..they go to be with Seldarine. And sometimes they come back. "
Sigeweard sighs and finishes. He seems calm and thoughtful. If he disagrees, he is very respectful of his peers and does not show it.
"So, the elves celebrate the passing of one of their own, by recanting how they lived. How perfect and like Correlon they were. How much good they left behind. How much darkness did they cut away from existence? Did they slay orcs and goblins, demons and devils, vampires and wraiths? Some build elaborate beautiful tombs and resting places, some prefer to be interred in nature. Some pass on to dwell in the court of the Seldarine, while others reincarnate. Their faith easily rivals any other I suppose." He smiles and nods, not really looking at anyone in particular.
"I don't know about this pruning business however...I prefer to find darkness and give it a sharp knock on the head! "
He half kiddingly waves his staff in a menacing manner. His gesture lightens the mood for some. For others it only reminds them of the task at hand.
Nomin says "I am humbled by the beauty of your words!" He bows his head and without looking up he asks Sigweard. "Tell my lady Vanya, direct me and I shall do her bidding as delicately and precisely as these clumsy mortal hands can be depended upon or I shall kneel and pray for her and her kin for I shall not look upon her again until this task is complete as I am not worthy to do so, so truly has she pierced my soul with her light."
Solara finishes sharpening her blade and pretends not to hear the rest of the exchange, though she rolls her eyes as Nomin declares his intentions.
Sigeweard senses tension and interjects again. " Ah yes, of course...we need to get all the pieces together." He cringes as he realizes what he just said. "The wolves and ravens...um and the goblin carvings." He reaches into a satchel and removes a few scroll cases. The cleric looks to Solara and asks "Have you studied reading these yet?"
The paladin shakes her head. It's apparent the reminder of her lack of skill is not lightening her mood. She walks to her horse and inspects it's saddlebags.
Sigeweard looks to Nomin. He has a wry look on his face. "Come my pious friend, we have much to do this day."
It's hard to tell if he is being sarcastic or not. He has a way of speaking calmly, yet there always seems to be a secret humorous element to his dialogue.
He leads the group to the first of the bodies. " Ah geez...I keep forgetting about these." He points to a goblin corpse.
" Get some firewood." A self pleasing smile slowly grows on his face. " It's our solemn duty to make sure those poor wolves do not ingest foul goblin meat."
Bonfires are built and lit. Goblin and orc bodies are committed to the cleansing flames. Solara, Vanya and Sigeweard produce a set of scrolls and herbs. They direct the group to gently drag the bodies of the elves to one area. They assure everyone this is respectful and sanitary. Sigeweard and Vanya spend a little time determining which limbs and detached body parts belong to which corpses. Once the bodies are gathered and identified by Vanya a final count is made. She seems certain all are accounted for. The two clerics command every one else to wrap the bodies in shrouds as they begin to cast spells and perform ceremonies to honor and preserve the dead. Protective circles are cast, candles lit, bells rung and various herbs are ignited like incense. Ground minerals like salt are also used as are sacred liquids.
Finally a set of copper pieces are laid over each dead elf's eyes. It appears Vanya and Sigeweard have come to an understanding and agreement, that he be allowed to perform half of these rituals. Though he is not an elven cleric, his intentions are clear correct enough for Vanya. They read off the scrolls for each victim. The casting is brief.
Each cleric and the paladin offer prayers, then the purification is done. Solara takes the lead and instructs the group on how to assemble the makeshift litters. Sigeweard and her have enough to load the bodies onto and several extra for any gear that was salvaged. There is nothing spectacular left but personal effects often have value to the living relatives of the deceased.
The litters are simple rope and canvas devices. Not stiff or particularly sturdy, they are still quite effective in dragging a body around without disturbing it's integrity. The ropes and cords are laced through existing holes and grommet like holes in the tarps and an easily stored makeshift stretcher is assembled.
"Your expecting us to drag these poor sods all the way back to town?"
The clerics respond in unison, shaking their heads. Solara interjects, "Not at all. A cart and team of horses is on it's way from town as we speak. A patrol should arrive soon as well."
As if on cue, the sound of horses can be heard coming down the road.
It's an odd site. Four human riders on horses, and two gnomish riders, also on large horses. The gnomes have cleverly engineered saddles, that allow the demi humans to climb into them from the ground. This allows them to travel at great speeds, that rival the humans. They approach from the north. They use a set of simple silent gestures to signal to the paladin and clerics. The trio respond in kind with a similar signal. The approaching riders slow their mounts and slowly ride to the group's location.
Nomin says to Sigeweard "I am not the most pious man, I hope you know that. I don't mean to give you that impression mistakenly. Just something about Vanya is so holy and right that I can't help but feel like a 5 year old boy in the presence of his mother. I don't know, now I'm just babbling."
"If you ask me, burning it too good for these pieces of filth" Nomin motions towards the pile of humanoids. "But I understand you don't need these corpses stinking up the forest."
Nomin waves away the smoke curling up from the piles of burning humanoid bodies.
The Gnomes dismount and help load the bodies of the elves onto the cart. The two clerics and Paladin also help. They are all vigilant in giving commands on how to carry and load them. Still, they are the first to grab a corpse and haul it to the cart.
They gently place the remains and stack them as carefully as possible.
A smaller younger wolf, that had been tearing at the bodies earlier comes forward. It sniffs the air curiously. It stares at the group, it's eyes searching and scanning each of the party members.
Vanya surveys the cart and halts stops suddenly. She let's out a long slow wail. Her keening cry resounds through the forest. Flocks of birds flutter from the trees at the sound of her shrill cry. She shakes and shudders. The she elf points to a corpse..then another. Her body shakes with convulsive energy.
Those ones....Her arms outstretch and the gossamer cloth of her vestments billow in the morning air. Her finger points to two of the bodies.
"These ones. They .. " she sobs, " They... want to return to the Oerth. "
She rests her arms on the cart and bows her head in silent prayer. The veins in her arms and along her temples throb. Her jaw twitches. Several crows land near her. The young wolf walks forward and sniffs her.
Solara scowls. "This is barbaric!" She seems about ready to refuse to partake, but her resolution softens. She hesitates and then walks forward. She and Sigeweard reach into the cart and pull out the two bodies. They lay carry the corpses and lay them in the undergrowth about twenty feet from the trail. More ravens and a few wolves gather, waiting. The group is quiet...with respect or revulsion.
Spugnoir also helps. He voices his thoughts. "These two respect the circle of life. They served us all and wish to continue to do so. They will live in in servitude, by nourishing what is to come after them. "
Even the gnomes stop to listen to his words.
This act completed, everyone silently awaits some practical command or gesture to continue. Solara, still irritated with the days events and conversation, shouts an order to mount up or fall into formation. She mounts her horse in an uncharacteristic show of drama. She then utters a command to move out and the party begins a slow trek back to Hommlet.