The Death of a Chieftain
At age 13, Elsweyr Eleanos had been making trips to the Princedoms with his father for three years.
He trekked the several hour trips with his father, the village chief, four times a year to trade furs and chopped lumber for necessary supplies. He went to learn how to deal with humans, as well as learn basic Common for when he became the new chief. While his father dealt with various merchants, Elsweyr visited his favorite store, Majun’s. Majun spoke a little Elvish, so Elsweyr could speak to him a little bit. He and Elsweyr would teach each other bits of their native tongues while Elsweyr played with toys. Majun’s sold many toys and trinkets that Elsweyr loved to play with. His father would never allow him to take one home, as human niceties were thought to corrupt the soul, but little Elsweyr was allowed to fiddle with dolls, marbles, wooden swords, and other trinkets as long as his father was busy talking with the merchants.
One day, Elsweyr was playing with a fat human boy, fighting him with a long wooden sword. With a deft swing, he took out the boy’s legs at the knee, causing him to fall. Elsweyr smiled and offered the boy a hand up, which was slapped away. The battle broke out again, this time, the boy had a look in his eye that looked strange to Elsweyr. The human boy swung more viscously this time around, so Elsweyr nimbly ducked and weaved, telling the boy to stop as best he could in broken Common, “Stop! No more!”, but he wouldn’t listen. Finally, Elsweyr had had enough. He dove under a heavy swing and swept out the boy’s legs once again, then backed away. Suddenly a heavy punch connected to the back of his head, knocking him down onto his chest.
When Elsweyr recovered, his eyesight was blurry with tears, but he could see the boy standing there with a smug look on his face. A large man in expensive robes rubbed his knuckles.
“Stay down you little shit!” The man yelled, kicking Elsweyr in the chest and stomach. The boy joined in soon after.
They kicked and laughed and spit, the man yelling “You’re trash, little elf! You’re so poor that you can’t even afford to buy a toy from Majun’s! I’ve seen you loitering and mooching! Learn your place!”
Then, to Elsweyr’s relief, the kicking stopped. He looked up to see his father fist fighting the man. The battle was one-sided, as his father quickly punched the man into submission.
While the man kneeled on the ground huffing, the Chief turned to the fat boy, who ran as fast as his thick, short legs could carry him. Turning to Elsweyr, he said in Elvish, “Are you okay, Elsweyr?” His face warm and kind, he kneeled and held a hand out to his son. Then Elsweyr heard a sickening squishing sound, and his father’s eyes grew wide. Then the Chief collapsed to the ground, a dagger in his back.
Handing Elsweyr an amulet, he said in Elvish, “Take this, Elsweyr, back to your mom, to your sister. Run home, RUN!” His father coughed out his parting, and a spray of blood. Guards began running to the scene, shouting in guttural Common.
Elsweyr ran, never looking back.
He ran as fast as his legs could take him, all the way back to the edge of his home encampment. Then he stopped. He didn’t want to return home. He didn’t want to tell his mother and sister that Dad died. He didn’t want to go home. He didn’t want to become chief. And he didn’t want to give the amulet back to Mom.
So Elsweyr ran, never looking back.