Rylde Mylyl

He who rides in the Mind of Rylde Mylyl

The date of my birth is irrelevant to those who may read these words for only those of my family need such things. To you I will say I was born in the Year of the Crystal Hare, quite a bit after the death of Teiro at the hands of Larnival the Destroyer.

For those of you who are reading this, I am Rylde Mylyl of the River Elves. Who are the River Elves, ye may ask. We are the children of the Ocean; as are the other Elven clans, though they may not recognize that history, but we remember. My village’s name is my own to know, but to say the least, it is well hidden from those who travel the roads today. For my village does not wish to be disturbed by the other races. To say the least, we are there, and we are watching.

My father is Adinirahc Mylyl, and my mother was Elvraema Mylyl, I am the only child of this union as my mother was slain before she could bear my father another child.

This is my tale of my early memories, dating back just before my Mother died at the hands of humans. This is my tale of my first recorded journeys to the cesspool of Crossings, my achievements there and my failures. My views have changed some since my first step into the realms of the other races, some, but not all. Just my way of handling such things has changed drastically. Upon reading this, one may hate me, or love me, too either, do at your own peril.

During one of the many winters of my childhood, when I was under the age of 20, my mother and me, along with several other elves from different families had traveled to another Elven community. 'Twas there we visited and bartered a few goods with them. They had connections to a Dwarven community, and so had access to some minerals that we could not harvest ourselves. My mother enjoyed these outings, even thought it took several days of travel to accomplish. She just liked to travel a bit and catch up on some of the gossip of the outside world.

Upon our return back to our village, I got my first look at a human, and forever shall this sight remain in my head, along with a moldering hatred of the short-lived race. As we journeyed, we were waylaid by a band of humans. The first indication of their presence was a hail of arrows that took down a good portion of our group. I myself took an arrow in the shoulder, and was thrown from our cart as it was overturned our spooked horses.

Death was unleashed upon our group, as the humans came from their hiding spaces to engage in melee with those who still stood, my mother included. To say the least, all in my village are trained with weapons, just some more than others. My mother and the others fought long and hard, but the humans were many. One of the last things I remembered seeing is my mother being cut almost in twain by a coward human from behind.

How long was I out for, only the gods know, but when I awoke, I was covered in snow with teeth chattering to where it hurt. It had seemed I was overlooked by the humans, but as I stiffly wandered about eyeing the massacre, I felt I should have died there that day. The humans not only killed my mother and my people, they took trophies as well, as some were scalped and some missing ears.

I was told later by my father, that I was found in the middle of the bodies trying to keep warm. I was told I was whispering to myself and to my mother, as her name was spoken by me as if she was still there. They said, it was due to the cold, and through the loss of blood sustained by the arrow. I know better, I was vowing myself to, my mother, and to the god of the dead. "Urrem'Tier," that I would live, and I would destroy those responsible, and their families as well.

As I healed from my ordeal, I took up books of old, speaking of my people and their pasts. The histories of the Elven and Human Wars, I read of Teiro and his heroism, the Old traditions. I immersed myself into our histories, and our fight against the humans, who set my blood boiling in anger. Even as I read the books, my father visited me to try to mellow my anger. He oft told me not to judge the whole for the actions of a few, but at that time, I cared not if the Humans died for the child.

I grew over the years; my anger only subdued a bit on the subject of the Humans. My yearning to see our people roam the lands that were rightfully ours was in the forefront now. I questioned why our village hides within the lands, through magic and trickery, to only watch the other races. Each time I hear, "We set ourselves apart from the others, so their taint will not sift into our people. We are not the slayers, cheats nor charlatans. Our people are brothers and sisters to each other, and each is treated in kind. Yet, in the land beyond our walls, this is not so. So, we shield ourselves from such madness and remain pure in blood and belief. As such, when the Ocean calls for us, we shall be accepted as we are as we came, untainted."

I grew dissatisfied and restless as I grew up, and my father noticed it with sadness. He called me into his room one night to speak with me upon this matter.

"Rylde, from what I see, our place no longer holds your spirit, so how can I hold your flesh as well." he said sadly as he gazed at me. His eyes spoke on many level's of his sadness. 'If we keep you here, you will be consumed by your emotions, and may consume our people here as well."

I remember feeling shocked at the words, but inside I knew them to be true so I said nothing.

"Upon the sun's rising, you will go beyond our walls, and our forest, to travel among the other clans and races. We hope that upon your wandering's you will come to peace with yourself. There is a City, that is far off, yet it is a hub of activity for many races. They call the city, Crossings, there I ask you to go, to find yourself. When you have finally come to terms with yourself, and you will know of this time, you may come back among your Clan and be accepted."

All I could do is blink in disbelief on the words he spoke, he said more, but my mind did not register them. Soon, our talk was over, and I was back in my room, thinking on the words spoken. Upon the sun's first ray's of light, I was no where to be found by my clan. My journeys had begun.

Weeks had gone by before I took stock of the walled city of Crossings, and 'twas still a few weeks before I finally stepped foot within this Human controlled place. I only wore the bare necessities; a heavy cloak for chilled nights, trousers, boots, a tunic and a large sack to hold my meager items. I had lived off the lands since my journey began, a few coins in my pocket.

I fell into the Middens, into the cities' poverty stricken peasant corner. Where the city forgot it's poor and unfortunate. 'Twas here I learned of the atrocities that happen every day, by those who have against those who don’t. Only a gateway away, noble and adventurers snidely walked by hoarding away what the poor needed. They flaunted their status in the faces of those who had nothing. Here, I grew to despise a new thing, Nobility. At times here, I actually felt sorry for some of the human's, as they treated each other like cattle. 'Twas something unheard of by me, yet here it was, right in my face.

As my time here grew, I learned how to survive in this Urban Jungle and was taken in by the shadows. 'Twas here in places no one wants to remember, I learned the trades of urban survival, for it kept me fed, and a few, coins that I could pass on to those in the Middens. My status grew within the shadows, and within the Middens, as my wealth was their wealth, my food was their food. Things looked well.

My travels through the city, brought me into contact with many people, my first real encounter was with a young elf maiden named Maegwen. Her craft was that of a healer, they had a guild, and called themselves Empaths. I traveled a bit with her, and our friendship grew, I had feelings for her, but I could not show them. I was a wanderer, and I could not be accounted to be around, so I think here I started with my wall, my distance.

You are now probably wondering, whom I follow in the spiritual realm, at the earliest times in Crossings, I would have said nothing. But, a venture into the wilds changed all of that. I was out floating through goblin territory, scouting them out, pillaging items of worth from them, when I ran into a pack of what I learned later, was Scavenger Wolves. I tried my best to outwit them, to out dance, and evade. But it came to no avail. Within minutes, I was chased down and savagely tore apart. I would have been nothing more than a full belly for some, when other hunters came in and chased or killed them all off. I was in bad shape, so bad, that my spirit started to float away from the flesh.

I felt myself separate from this world, as my spirit floated into the next life I felt myself being pulled away from my accent. Soon, my spirit form drifted into a large darkened room, several statues were about yet hidden within shadows. The sound of something scurrying around, actually, 'twas many things moving about, and from my view, the floor seemed to move in waves. My form still was pulled further into the chamber towards a throne made of bones, seemingly of different origin. And sitting upon the throne was a figure that was shrouded by a thick cloak, that hid all of its wearer's features. Only a feeling of dread could I feel in this ones' presence, and the tales of the gods slipped into my thoughts.

"Rylde Mylyl, your time has come and gone." I heard, yet it was not spoken, just seemingly heard in my mind. It was an almost a chorus of voices, both male and female, but neither.

"Feel honored this day child of the Elven people, as I shall give you. Your soul has not yet finished what it was sent out to do, so I give my favor to return to the realm of flesh."

Words start to form in my mind, and I open my mouth to utter words of gratitude, yet I was cut off.

"This favor, I do not give lightly, and there must always be payment for such."

My spirit seemed to float towards the form stopping just inches from the shrouded one. A thin bony hand reaches out and touches my spirit form, and it is wracked with pain, then as fast as it has come, it is gone. I feel weak. With it's hand rests something, I am not sure at this time, but it is something of me, this I feel."

"Each time you venture to my Realm to ask favor from me, and you have proper payment, you shall be returned to the land of the flesh. Remember though, one only has so much soul before one has none left. Upon the time when you have no more payment, your existence shall belong to the Oblivion. Such are the words of Urrem'Tier."

One moment I am standing before the god of the dead, the next moment my body is gasping for air in a Temple, that I am told am in Crossings. From this day forward, my soul belongs to Urrem'Tier, guardian of Oblivion.